CHAP. IV.

The power of fear over a mind, weak either by nature, or infirmities

of body: The danger of its leading to despair, is shewn by the

condition Natura was reduced to by the importunities of priests of

different perswasions. This chapter also demonstrates, the little

power people have of judging what is really best for them, and that

what has the appearance of the severest disappointment, is

frequently the greatest good.

As to lose the memory of his disgrace, or at least all those gloomy

reflections it had occasioned, was the chief motive which had made

Natura resolve to travel a second time, it was a matter of

indifference to him which way he went. He first took care to make

himself master of all that was worth observation in Holland, where he

found little to admire, except the Stadthouse, and the magnificence

with which king William, after his accession to the crown of these

kingdoms, had ornamented his palace at Loo; but the rough, unpolite

behaviour of the people, disgusted him so much, that he stayed no

longer among them than was necessary to see what the place afforded,

and then passed on to Brussels, Antwerp, and, in fine, left no great

city, either in Dutch or French Flanders unvisited; thence went into

Germany, where his first route was to Hanover, having, it seems, a

curiosity of seeing a prince, whose brows were one day to be incircled

with the crown of England; but this country was, at that time, in so

low and wretched a condition, that whether he looked on the buildings,

the lands, or the appearance of the inhabitants, all equally presented

a scene of poverty to his eyes; he therefore made what haste he could

out of it, having found nothing, except the Elector himself, that gave

him the least satisfaction. He was also at several other petty courts,

all which served to inspire in him not the most favourable idea of

Germany.

At length he arrived at Vienna, a city pompous enough to those who had

never seen Rome and Paris; but however it may yield to them in

elegance of buildings, gardening, and other delicacies of life, it was

yet more inferior in the manners of the people;--he perceived among

the persons of quality, an affectation of grandeur, a state without

greatness, and in the lower rank of gentry, a certain stiffness, even

to the meanest, and an insufferable pride, which came pretty near

ferocity:--the costly, but ill-contrived parades frequently made,

discovered less their riches than their bad taste, and appeared the

more ridiculous to Natura, as they were extolled for their

magnificence and elegance; but, even here, as indeed all over Germany,

the courts of Berlin and Dresden excepted, you see rather an _aim_ of

attracting admiration and respect, than the _power_ of it. These,

however, were the sentiments of Natura, others perhaps may judge

differently.

But whatever may be the deficiencies of Germany in matters of genius,

wit, judgment, and manners, there is none in good eating, and good

wine; and though their fashion of cookery is not altogether so polite,

nor so agreeable to the palates of others as their own, yet it must be

confessed, that in their way, they are very great epicures; but though

they generally eat voraciously, they drink yet more; and so nimbly do

they send the glass about, that a stranger finds it no small

difficulty to maintain his sobriety among them.

Natura's too great compliance with their intreaties in this point, had

like to have proved fatal to him:--the strength of the wines, and

drinking them in a much larger quantity than he had been accustomed

to, so inflamed his blood, that he soon fell into a violent fever,

which for some days gave those that attended him, little hopes of his

recovery; but by the skill of his physician, joined to his youth, and

the goodness of his constitution, the force of the distemper at last

abated, yet could not be so intirely eradicated, as not to leave a

certain pressure and debility upon the nerves, by some called a fever

on the spirits, which seemed to threaten either an atrophy or

consumption; his complexion grew pale and livid, and his strength and

flesh visibly wasted; and what was yet worse, the vigour of his mind

decayed, in proportion with that of his external frame, insomuch that,

falling into a deep melancholy, he considered himself as on the brink

of the grave, and expected nothing but dissolution every hour.

While he continued in this languishing condition, he was frequently

visited by the priests, who in some parts of Germany, particularly at

Vienna, are infinitely more inveterate against Protestantism than at

Paris, or even at Rome, though the _papal_ seat; as indeed any one may

judge, who has heard of the many and cruel persecutions practised upon

the poor Protestants by the emperors, in spite of the repeated

obligations they have had to those powers who profess the doctrines of

Calvin and Luther; but gratitude is no part of the characteristic of a

German.

These venerable distracters of the human mind, were perpetually

ringing hell and damnation in his ears, in case he abjured not, before

his death, the errors in which he had been educated, and continued in

so many years, and by acts of penance and devotion, reconcile himself

to the mother church; they pleaded the antiquity of their faith,

brought all the fathers they could muster up, to prove that alone was

truly orthodox, and that all dissenting from it was a sin not to be

forgiven.

On the other hand, the English ambassador's chaplain, who knew well

enough what they were about, omitted nothing that might confirm him in

the principles of the reformation, and convince him that the church of

England, as by law established, had departed only from the errors

which had crept into the primitive church, not from the church itself,

and that all the superstitious doctrines now preached up by the Romish

priests, were only so many impositions of their own, calculated to

inrich themselves, and keep weak minds in awe.

Natura, who had till now contented himself with understanding moral

duties, and had never examined into matters of controversy between the

two religions, now found both had so much to say in defence of their

different modes of worship, that he became very much divided in his

sentiments; and each remonstrating to him by turns, the danger of

dying in a wrong belief, wrought so far upon the present weakness of

his intellects, as to bring him into a fluctation of ideas, which

might, in time, either have driven him into despair, or made him

question the very fundamentals of a religion, the merits of which its

professors seemed to place so much in things of meer form and

ceremony.

By this may be seen how greatly _christianity_ suffers by the unhappy

divisions among the professors of it:--much it is to be wished, though

little to be hoped, that both sides would be prevailed upon to recede

a little from their present stiffness in opinion, or be at least less

virulent in maintaining it; since each, by endeavouring to expose and

confute what they look upon as an absurdity in the other, join in

contributing to render the truth of the whole suspected, and not only

give a handle to the avowed enemies, of depreciating and ridiculing

all the sacred mysteries of religion, but also stagger the faith of a

great many well-meaning people, and afford but a too plausible

pretence for that sceptism which goes by the name of _free-thinking_,

and is of late so much the fashion.

In another situation, perhaps, Natura would have been little affected

with any thing could have been said on this score; but health and

sickness make a wide difference in our way of thinking:--when

surrounded by the gay pleasures of life, and in the full vigour and

capacity of enjoying them, we either do not reflect at all, or but

cursorily on the evil day; but when cold imbecility steals upon us,

either through age or accidents, and death and eternity stare us in

the face, we have quite other sentiments, other wishes:--whoever

firmly believes, that in leaving this life, we but step into another,

either of happiness or misery, and that which ever it proves, will be

without end, or possibility of change, and that the whole of future

welfare depends on the road we take in going out of this world, will

be very fearful lest he should chuse the wrong; and it is not

therefore strange, that while, with equal force, the _papist_ pulled

one way, and the _protestant_ another, the poor penitent should be

involved in the most terrible uncertainty.

Happy, therefore, was it, both for the recovery of his mind and body,

that his physicians finding all their recipes had little effect,

advised him to seek relief from the waters of the Spa, and as it was

their opinion, they would be of more efficacy, when drank upon the

spot, he accordingly took his journey thither, but by reason of his

weakness, was obliged to be carried the whole way in a litter.

It is very probable, that being eased of the perplexities the

incessant admonitions of the priests of different opinions had given

him, contributed as much as the waters to his amendment; but to which

ever of these causes it may be imputed, it is certain that he every

day became better, and as his strength of body returned, so did that

of his mind, in proportion; with his apprehensions of death, his

disquiets about matters of religion subsided also, and whenever any

thing of that kind came cross his thoughts, it was but by starts, and

was soon dissipated with other ideas, which many objects at this place

presented him with.

But that to which he was chiefly indebted for the recovery of his

former gaiety of temper, was meeting with an English family, with whom

he had been extremely intimate; the lady had come thither for the same

purpose he had done, her husband being very tender of her, would needs

accompany her, and they brought with them their only daughter, a young

lady of great beauty, and not above eighteen, in hopes, as they said,

of alleviating a certain melancholly, to which she was addicted,

without any cause, at least any that was visible, for it.

Natura had often seen the amiable Maria (for so she was called) but

had never felt for her any of those pleasing, and equally painful,

emotions, which a nearer conversation with her now inspired him

with:--he had always thought her very handsome, but she now appeared

perfectly adorable in his eyes:--the manner of her behaviour, that

modest sweetness which appeared through her whole deportment, and

seemed, as it were, a part of her soul, had for him irresistible

charms; and as he very well knew the circumstances of her family, such

as his friends could make no reasonable objections against, nor his

own such as could be thought contemptible by those of her kindred, he

attempted not to repel the satisfaction which he felt, in the hopes of

being one day able to make an equal impression on her heart.

The very first use he made of his intire recovery from his late

indisposition, was an endeavour to convince her how much her presence

had contributed to it, and that the supremest wish his soul could

form, was to enjoy it with her in the nearest, and most tender union,

as long as life continued.--She received the declarations he made her

of his passion with great reserve, and yet more coldness; and affected

to take them only for the effects of a gallantry, which she told him

was far from being agreeable to a person of her humour: but he

imputing her behaviour only to an excess of that extreme modesty which

accompanied all her words and actions, was so far from being rebuffed

at it, that he acquainted her parents with his inclination, and, at

the same time, intreated their permission for prosecuting his

addresses to her.

Both of them heard his proposals with a joy which it was impossible

for either, especially the mother of that lady, to conceal:--each

cried out, almost at the same time, that the sentiments he expressed

for their daughter, was an honour they hoped she had too much good

sense not to accept with the utmost satisfaction, and added, that they

would immediately lay their commands upon her, to receive him in the

manner she ought to do.

As their families and fortunes were pretty equivalent, and Maria,

besides her being an heiress, had beauty enough to expect to marry,

even above her rank, Natura could not keep himself from being a little

astonished at the extravagance of pleasure they testified at the offer

he had made: parents generally take some time to consider, before they

give their assent to a proposal of this sort; and as he knew they were

very well acquainted with the occasion of his leaving England this

second time, and were of a party the most opposite that could be to

that he was suspected to have favoured, their extreme readiness to

dispose of their only daughter, and with her their whole estate, to

him seemed the more strange, as he had been, ever since he conceived a

passion for Maria, in the most terrible apprehension of meeting with a

different reception from them, meerly on the account of his supposed

principles.

The transport, however, that so unexpected a condescension gave him,

prevented him from examining too deeply what might be the motives that

induced them to it, and he gave himself wholly up to love, gratitude,

and the delightful thoughts of being in a short time possessed of all

he at present wished, or imagined he ever should ask of Heaven.

But how were all these rapturous expectations dashed, when soon after

going to visit Maria, he found her lovely eyes half drowned in tears,

and her whole frame in the utmost disorder:--'What, madam,' cried he,

with a voice which denoted both grief and surprize, 'can have

happened, to give you any cause of the disquiet I see in you!'--'You,'

replied she, snatching away her hand, which he had taken, 'you alone

are the cause;--what encouragement did I ever give you,' continued

she, 'that should make you imagine the offers you have made my parents

would be agreeable to me?--Did I ever authorize you to ask a consent

from them, which I was determined never to grant myself, and which, I

will suffer a thousand deaths rather than ratify.'

The confusion Natura was in at these words was so great, that it

prevented him from making any answer; but he looked on her in such a

manner as made her ashamed of what she had said, and perhaps too of

the passion that had so far transported her; and perceiving he still

continued silent, 'I own myself obliged for the affection you express

for me,' resumed she, with more mildness, 'though it is at present the

greatest misfortune could have happened to me. Could I have thought

you would have declared yourself in the manner you have done to my

father and mother, I would have convinced you how impossible it would

be for you to reap any advantage from it, and that by so doing you

would only make me the most wretched creature in the world; but all is

now too late, and I foresee the cruel consequence.'--Here her tears

interrupted the passage of her words, and Natura having recollected

himself, began to complain of the severity of his destiny, which

compelled him to _love_ with the most violent passion a person who

could only return it with an equal degree of hate.--'Love,' replied

she, with a deep sigh, 'is not in our power;--let me therefore conjure

you, by all that which you pretend to have for me, to proceed no

farther in this business, nor endeavour to prevail on my parents to

force an inclination, which no obligations to them, services from you,

or length of time can ever influence in your favour; for be assured,

that if you do, you will only see the hand should be given you at the

altar, employed in cutting my own throat, or plunging a dagger in my

breast.'

With these words, and an air that had somewhat of wildness in it, she

flung out of the room, leaving him in a consternation impossible to

describe, almost to conceive; her mother came in immediately after,

and judging by his countenance how her daughter had behaved, told him

he must not regard the coyness of a young girl; that she doubted not

but Maria would soon be convinced what was her true happiness; and

that a little perseverance and assiduity on his side, and authority on

theirs, would remove all the scruples, bashfulness alone had created

in her: 'No, madam,' answered he, with some impatience, 'there is

somewhat more than all this you have mentioned, against me;--there is

a rooted detestation to me in the very soul of Maria, which as I

cannot but despair of being ever able to remove, common reason bids me

attempt no farther.'

The mother of Maria appeared very much perplexed, and said a great

deal to perswade him that his apprehensions were without foundation;

but the young lady had expressed herself in terms too strong for him

not to be perfectly assured she was in earnest; and being willing to

ruminate a little on the affair, he took leave, though not without the

other extorting a promise from him, of coming again the next day.

Natura had not given himself much time to reflect, before he conceived

great part of the truth:--he could not think either his person or

qualifications so contemptible, as to inspire a heart unprepossessed

by some other object, with an aversion such as Maria had expressed: he

therefore concluded, she had disposed of her affections before she

knew of his: it also seemed plain to him that her parents were not

ignorant of her attachment, and being such as they could not approve

of, it was that which had rendered them both so ready to snatch at his

proposal, without any mention of those considerations they would

otherwise naturally have had of jointure, settlements, and all those

things, previous to marriage, between persons of condition.

He was the more confirmed in this belief, when the father came to his

lodgings the next morning; and without seeming to know any thing of

what had passed between him, either with his wife, or Maria, asked, in

a gay manner, how the latter had received his addresses? To which

Natura answered in the same manner as he had done to her mother;

adding only, that he could not avoid believing her heart was already

engaged to some more worthy man, and was sorry his own unhappy passion

had occasioned any interruption. The father left nothing unsaid that

might dissipate such a conjecture, and affected to railly him on a

jealousy which, he said, was common to lovers; and then told him a

long story how himself had formerly suffered much by the same vain

imagination. But all this was so far from making Natura doubt the

truth of his conjectures, that, seeing through the artifice, he was

the more convinced they were intirely right.

He went, notwithstanding, in the afternoon, either because he had

promised to do so, or because he could not all at once resolve to

banish himself from a person he took so much pleasure in beholding,

though now without hopes of ever being able to obtain:--being left

alone with Maria, both of them remained in a kind of sullen silence

for some minutes, till at last the force of his passion in spite of

himself made him utter some complaints on the cruelty of fortune, and

his own insensibility, which had denied him the opportunity of

discovering the thousand charms he now found in her, till too late to

have his adoration of them acceptable to her. 'I have not less

reason,' said she, 'to accuse the chance which at this time brought us

together, than you can possibly have; since the love you profess for

me, and which I once more assure you I can never return, has laid me

under the severest displeasure of my parents';--'but I had hopes,'

continued she, 'after the declaration I made you yesterday, that you

would have renounced all pretensions to me, and had generosity enough

in your nature, not to have taken the advantage of my father and

mother's power over me, to force me into a compliance, which must be

fatal to one or both of us.'

'No, madam,' answered he, much surprized, 'I am far from even a wish

of becoming guilty of what you accuse me with;--dear as I prize your

person, I would not attempt to purchase it at the expence of your

peace of mind; nor could I be truly blessed in the enjoyment of the

_one_, without the _other_;--it is only to Maria herself I would have

been obliged, not to the authority of her parents.'

'Will you then quit me,' cried she hastily, 'and let the act appear

wholly your own?'--'I will,' replied he, after a pause, 'difficult as

it is to do so, and irresolute and inconstant as it will make me

seem.' 'That,' said she, 'will be an action truly deserving my esteem;

and in return, know I am much more your friend in refusing your

addresses, than either my parents in encouraging, or your own mistaken

wishes in offering them':--'but,' pursued she, 'I beg you will enquire

no farther, but leave me, and break off with my parents in the best

manner you can.'

Fain would he have obtained a farther explanation of words, which

seemed to him to contain some mystery, as indeed they did; but she was

no less inflexible to his intreaties on that score, than she had been

to those of his love; and perceiving his presence gave her only pain,

he went out of the house with an aking and agitated heart, but

resolved to do as she desired and he had promised, whatever pangs it

cost him.

He had not gone above an hundred paces on his way home, before he was

accosted by a man who seemed like an upper-servant in a gentleman's

family, and who, with a low bow, delivered him a letter, which, on

seeing directed to himself, he hastily opened, and found contained

these lines:

Sir,

"If you have any thing in you of the gallantry, generosity, or

gratitude, for which your country is famed, come where the bearer

will conduct you, to a woman, who has suffered much on your

account, and can be extricated from an unhappy affair only by your

advice."

Natura was little in a humour to pursue an adventure of the kind this

seemed to be; but curiosity got the better of his spleen, and he bad

the fellow lead the way, and he would follow; which he accordingly

did, till they were out of the town, and from the sight of all the

houses.

Being come into a field which was a kind of an inclosure, and a

theatre proper enough for the tragedy intended to be acted on it, the

fellow turned back, and drew a pistol, which he instantly discharged

at the head of Natura, crying at the same time, 'Maria sends you

this.'--Heaven so directed the bullets, that the one passed by his

ear, and the other only grazed upon his shoulder, without doing any

farther damage, than taking away a small piece of his sleeve. It is

easy to judge of his surprize, yet was it not so great as to disable

him from drawing his sword in order to revenge himself on the

assassin; but the wretch, in case his fire-arms should miscarry, had

provided a falchion concealed under his coat, with which, the same

instant, he ran furiously on Natura, and had certainly cleft him down,

tho' perhaps in doing so, he might have received his own death's wound

at the same time from the sword of his antagonist; but both these

events were happily prevented by the peculiar interposition of Divine

Providence: some reapers, who had lain asleep under an adjacent hedge,

being roused with the noise of the pistol, ran to the combatants, and

with their hooks beat down both their weapons; while at the same

fortunate crisis, two gentlemen attended by three servants, who

happening to cross a road which had a full prospect over the field,

had seen, at a distance, all that had passed, and came galloping up to

the assistance of Natura, who was then beginning to interrogate the

villain on the occasion of this attempt; but he refused to give any

satisfactory answer to what he said, so was dragged by the countrymen,

and others, who by this time were gathered together, back into the

town, and carried immediately before a magistrate, who, on his

obstinately refusing to make any confession, committed him to prison.

Natura, who imagined nothing more certain, than that Maria had set

this fellow on to murder him, as the surest way to get rid of his

addresses, went directly to the house where she lodged, full of a

resentment equal to the detestable crime of which he thought her

guilty;--he found her in the room with her father and mother, of whom

he took little notice, but stepped forwards to the place where she was

sitting; and seeing her a little surprized, which indeed was

occasioned only by his sudden return, and the abrupt manner in which

he entered:--'You find, madam,' said he, with a voice broke with rage,

'your plot has miscarried;--Natura still lives, though it must be

owned your emissary did all could be expected to obey your commands,

for my destruction.'

It is hard to say, whether Maria, or her parents, were in the greatest

consternation at these words; but he soon unravelled the mystery, by

relating the whole story, not omitting what the assassin said in

presenting the pistol, and then as a confirmation throwed the letter

he had received into Maria's lap, and at the same time shewed the

passage one of the bullets had made through the sleeve of his

coat:--the young lady no sooner cast her eyes upon the letter, than

she gave a great shriek, and crying out, 'O Humphry, Humphry! every

way my ruin!' immediately fell fainting on the floor; her father,

without regarding the condition she was in, snatched up the paper, the

hand-writing of which he presently recollected, as having, it seems,

intercepted several wrote by the same person;--'Abandoned, infamous

creature,' cried he;--'shame of thy sex and family,' added the mother,

striking her breast in the utmost agony:--in fine, never was such a

scene of distraction and despair!--Natura, injured as he had been,

could not behold it without compassion;--he ran by turns to Maria,

endeavouring to raise her,--then to her parents, beseeching them to

moderate their passion,--then to her again:--'You are too generous,'

said the father, 'let her die, happy had it been if she had perished

in the cradle':--Just as he spoke these words she revived, and lifting

up her eyes, 'O, I am no murd'ress,' cried she, 'guilty as I am, in

this Heaven knows my innocence.'--'It is false, it is false,' said the

father; 'but were it true, canst thou deny, thou most abandoned

wretch, that thou wert also ignorant that the villain who wrote this

letter had followed us to Spaw, and bring a second shame upon

us?'--She answered to this only with her tears, which assuring him she

had no defence to make on this article, his rage grew more inflamed;

he loaded her with curses, and could not keep himself from spurning

her with his feet, as she still lay groveling on the ground, and might

perhaps have proceeded to greater violences, had not Natura, by main

force, with-held him, while her mother, tho' little less incensed

against her, dragged her in a manner out of the room, more dead than

alive.

The unhappy object removed from his sight, the provoked father grew

somewhat more calm, and turning to Natura, 'You see now, sir,' said

he, 'how unworthy this wretched girl is of that affection with which

you once honoured her; but how shall I obtain your pardon for what the

too great tenderness for an only child has made me guilty of to

you;--all I can say is, that I hoped she had been reclaimed, and so

far from even a wish to repeat her crimes, that she had only an utter

detestation for the villain that had seduced her.'

Natura knew very well how he ought to judge of this affair; but as he

had an aversion to dissimulation, and was unwilling to add any thing

to the affliction he was witness to, he said little in answer to the

other's apology, but that he was extremely sorry for Maria, and the

misfortunes she had brought on the family; and then took his leave as

soon as decency would permit; but with a firm resolution to hold no

farther conversation, wherever they should hereafter happen to meet,

with persons who had all of them, in their several capacities, used

him so ill.

The assassin was soon after brought to a public trial, where tortures

making him confess the truth, he acknowledged, that having been a

servant in the family, the beauty of Maria had inspired him with

desires, unbefitting the disparity between them;--that emboldened by

an extraordinary goodness she shewed to him, he had declared his

passion, and met with all the returns he wished;--that she became

pregnant by him, and had made a vow to keep herself single, till the

death of her father should leave her at liberty to marry him; but that

an unlucky accident having discovered their amour, he was turned out

of the house, and the grief Maria conceived at it occasioned an

abortion; but that after her recovery she contrived means to meet him

privately, and to support him with money, that he might not be obliged

to go to service any more; that she had acquainted him with their

coming to the Spa, and not only knew of his following them in disguise

to that place, but contrived a rendezvous where they saw each other

often, and he learned from her the addresses of Natura, and the

positive commands laid on her by her parents of marrying him, in order

to retrieve her honour and reputation; that as besides the extreme

love he had for her, his own interest obliged him to hinder the match,

if by any means he could; and finding no other than the death of his

rival, he had attempted it by the way already mentioned: but cleared

Maria, however, of all guilt on this score, who, he assured the court,

knew nothing of his intentions of murder.

The sentence passed on him was, to be hanged in chains, which was

accordingly executed in a few days; though Natura, pitying his case,

in consideration of the greatness of the temptation, laboured for a

mitigation of his doom.--He never saw the unfortunate Maria

afterwards, but heard she was in a condition little different from

madness, which making her parents think it improper she should return

to England, they conveyed her to Liege, where they placed her as a

pensioner in the convent of English nuns, there to remain till time

and reflection should make a change in her, fit to appear again in the

world; which proceeding in them shewed, that whatever aversion some

people have to _this_, or _that_ form of religion, they can

countenance, nay, pretend to approve it, when it happens to prove for

their convenience to do so.

Natura was now intirely cured of his passion, but could not avoid

feeling a very tender commiseration for her, who had been the unhappy

object of it; he found also, on meditating on every passage of this

adventure, that she was infinitely less to blame, in regard to him,

than her parents had been; and that what he had accused, as cruel in

her, was much more kind than the favour they had pretended for

him.--When he reflected on the gulph of misery he had so narrowly

escaped, he was filled with the most grateful sentiments to that

Providence which had protected him; and also made sensible, that what

we often pray for, as the greatest of blessings, would, if obtained,

prove the severest curse:--a reflection highly necessary for all who

desire any thing with too much ardency.

Life's Progress Through the Passions; Or, The Adventures of Natura · 第 29 / 37 题