Juliet, thus escaped from the eminent and terrific dangers to which she
had been exposed, entered the farm-house with a glowing delight diffused
over her countenance, that instinctively communicated a participating
pleasure to the people of the farm; and caused her to be received with
an hospitality that might have contented the expectations of an old
friend.
Nothing so unfailingly ensures, or rather creates a welcome, as
cheerfulness; cheerfulness! so beautifully, by Addison, called an Hymn
to the Divinity! Whether it be, that the view of sprightliness seems the
fore-runner of pleasure to ourselves; or whether we judge all within to
be innocent, where all without is serene; various, according to
sentiment, or circumstance, as may be the motive, the result is nearly
universal; that those who approach us with cheerfulness, are sure to be
met with kindness. Cheerfulness is as distinct from insipid placidity as
from buoyant spirits; it seems to indicate a disposition of thankful
enjoyment for all that can be attained of good, blended with resignation
upon principle to all that must be endured of evil.
Her first care was to satisfy her two still wondering conductors, who
proved to be sons to the master of the farm, by giving to each
half-a-crown; that they might not lose their time, she told them, by
waiting till she had settled her business with their father: and, after
doubling her caresses to her protector, Dash, she sent them back to
their work; manifestly glad that they had not affronted a young woman,
who knew how to behave herself, they said, so handsomely.
She now begged an audience of the farmer, to whom she resolved to
communicate her alarming adventure at the hut.
The farmer, who was surrounded by his family and his labourers, to whom
he was issuing orders, desired her to speak out at once.
Juliet could by no means consent to publish so dark and uncertain a
history to so many hearers; she again, therefore, entreated to address
him in private.
He had come home, he answered, only to take a mug of beer; for the
plough was in the field: however, she might call again, if she would, at
dinner-time; but he had no time to give to talk in a morning.
And forth he went, whistling, and hallooing after his labourers, as he
jogged his way.
She then applied to his bustling, sturdy wife; but with no better
success; who was to feed the poultry? who was to give the wash to the
pigs? who was to churn the butter? if she threw away her time by
gossipping in the morning?
The rest of the family consisted of three grown up daughters, and four
or five children. The daughters, though more civil, because less
voluntarily busy, and, as yet, less interested than their parents, were
too inexperienced to give any assistance, or form any judgment upon such
an affair; Juliet, therefore, who was sinking with fatigue and
emptiness, and who desired nothing so much as to remain for some time
under any safe roof, begged, of the young women, a bason of bread and
milk for her breakfast; and permission to stay at the farm till the hour
of dinner.
These requests were granted without the smallest demur, even before she
produced her purse; which they viewed with no small surprize, saying
that they hoped they were not so near, as to take money for a little
bread and milk of a traveller; but that, if she must needs do it, she
might give a small matter to the children.
Recollecting, now, her rustic and ordinary garb, and fearing to awaken
suspicion, or curiosity, she put a penny a-piece into the hands of two
little boys and a girl.
It was then that she saw how far she was removed from the capital; in
the precincts of which the poor and the labourer are almost constantly
rapacious, or necessitous. The high price to be obtained, there, for
whatever is marketable, makes generosity demand too great a sacrifice,
save from the exalted few; who, still in all places, and in all classes,
are, by the candid observer, occasionally, to be found. But in this
obscure hamlet, where plenty was not bribed away to sale, this little
donation was received with as much amazement as joy; and the children
scampered to the dairy, and to the plough-field, to shew it first to
mammy, and then to dad.
Juliet, having taken her simple repast, strolled into a small meadow,
just without the farm-yard; where she seated herself upon a style, to
enjoy, at once, the fragrant air, and personal repose.
The prospect here, though less sublime in itself, and less exalting in
the ideas which it inspired, than that of the lonely and majestic
beauty, which had so powerfully charmed her, visually and
intellectually, in the midst of the New Forest; was yet gay, varied,
verdant and lovely. On the opposite side of a winding and picturesque
road, by which the greater part of the hedge around the meadow was
skirted, was situated a small Gothic church; of which the steeple was
nearly over-run with ivy, and the porch, half sunk into the ground, from
the ravages of time and of neglect; wearing, all together, the air of a
venerable ruin. Further on, and built upon a gentle acclivity, stood a
clean white cottage, evidently appropriated to the instruction of youth,
or rather childhood; to which sundry little boys and girls, each with a
book, or with needle-work, in his hand, were trudging with anxious
speed. Juliet spoke to each of them as they passed; pleased with their
innocent prattle, and gathering alternately, from their native
intelligence, or gaping stupidity, food to amuse her mind, with
predictions of their future characters. Sheep were browsing upon a
distant heath; cows were watering in a neighbouring stream; and two
beautiful colts were prancing and skipping, with all the bounding vigour
of untamed liberty, in the meadow. Geese, turkies, cocks and hens, ducks
and pigs, peopled the farm-yard; keeping up an almost constant chorus of
rural noises; which, at first, stunned her ears, but which, afterwards,
entertained her fancy, by drawing her observation to their various
habits and ways. The children came, jumping, to play around her; and her
friend Dash, discovering her retreat, frequently left the wood-cutters
to bound forwards, and court her caresses.
The young women of the house, to divert their several labours of
weeding, churning, or washing, occasionally, also, joined her, for the
pleasure of a little chat; which they by no means, like their father or
mother, held in contempt. Juliet received them with an urbanity that
gave such a zest to their little visits, that it served to quicken their
work, that they might quicken their return; and, with the eldest, she
changed the bonnet of Debby Dyson, for one that was plainer, and yet
more coarse.
There was nothing in these young persons of sufficient 'mark or
likelihood' to make them attractive to Juliet; but she was glad to earn
their good will; and not sorry to learn what were their occupations;
conscious that a dearth of useful resources, was a principal cause, in
adversity, of FEMALE DIFFICULTIES.
Here, then, Juliet formed a project to rest, till her own should be
removed; or, at least, till she could obtain some intelligence, that
might guide her uncertain steps: this seemed the spot upon which she
might find repose; this seemed the juncture for enjoying quiet and
tranquility in the country life; to which she desired to devote the
residue of the time that might still be destined to suspense.--Here,
retirement would be soothing, and even seclusion supportable, from the
charm of the scenery, the beauty of the walks, the guileless characters,
and vivifying activity of the inhabitants of the farm-house; and the
fragrant serenity of all around. Here, peace and plenty were the result
of industry; and primitive, though not polite hospitality, was the
offspring of natural trust. If there was no cultivation, there was no
art; if there was no refinement, there were integrity and good will.
She applied, therefore, to her new young acquaintances, to promote her
plan with their parents. They lost not a moment in making the
arrangement; and Juliet was immediately installed in a small chamber,
upon the attic-story. She settled that she should eat from their table,
but alone; for she dreaded remark or discovery. No terms were fixed; a
little matter, they said, would suffice; and Juliet saw that she had
nothing to fear from imposition; every face in the family bearing the
mark, or the promise, of steady honesty.
Nor, indeed, could any price be exorbitant to Juliet, that could procure
some relief to her fears, and some respite from her toils. Her first
care was to obtain, through her new friends, implements for writing; and
then to transmit, in detail, assurances of her present safety, and even
comfort, to Gabriella; from whom she entreated intelligence, whether
pursuit and enquiry were still active.
As fearful, now, of the name of Ellis, as, heretofore, she had been of
that of Granville, she desired that the answer might be directed, under
cover to 'Master Simmers, Farmer, at ----, near the New Forest;' and that
the enclosed letter might have no other address than, 'For the young
Woman who lodges at the Farm.'
Again, then, she returned to the meadow, which, now her mind was more at
ease, seemed adorned with added verdure, freshness, and beauty. Here,
pensive, yet not without consolation, she past the day.
The next, she rambled a few paces further, and found out a cottage, in a
situation of the most romantic loveliness, in which two labourers, and
their wives, resided with their mother; a cheerful, pleasing old woman,
with whom Juliet was immediately in amity.
She visited, also, the school; made acquaintance with its mistress, who
appeared to be a sensible and worthy woman; and captivated the easy
hearts of the little scholars, by the playful manner in which she
noticed their occupations, encouraged their diligence, and assisted them
to learn their lessons.
She aided, also, the young women of the farm, in various of the lighter
domestic offices that fell to their share; and amused, at once, and
instructed her own mind, by opening a new road for admiration of the
wondrous works of the Great Creator, in observing and studying the
various animals abounding in and about the farm. The remark and
attention of a few days, sufficed to shew her, not only as much
difference in the interiour nature of the four-footed and of the
plumaged race, as there is in their hides or their feathers; but nearly,
or, perhaps, quite as much diversity, in their dispositions, as in those
of their haughty human masters; though the means of manifestation bore
no comparison. In fixing her attention upon them, in following their
motions, and considering their actions; she found that though the same
happy instinct guided them all alike to self-preservation, the degrees
of skill with which they discovered the shortest and best method for
attaining what they coveted, were infinite; yet not more striking than
the variety of their humours; kind, complying, generous; or fierce,
selfish, and gloomy, in their intercourse with one another. _Le droit du
plus fort_, (the right of strength,) though the most ordinary, was by no
means the only, or the universal basis of animal legislation. Dexterity
and sagacity find ascendance wherever there is animation: and
propensities benign and social, or malignant and savage, as palpably
distinguish beast from beast, and bird from bird, as man from his
fellow.
What an inexhaustible source was here, to a thinking being, both for
information and entertainment! Oh Providence Divine! she cried, how
minute is the perfection, yet how grand the harmony of thy works!
Still, however, she sought vainly to obtain the requested conference.
The farmer, whose thoughts were absorbed exclusively in the interests of
his farm, was always too busy to afford her any time, and too
indifferent to give her any attention. As she lodged in the house, he
could hear her, he said, when he should be more at leisure; and all her
eloquence was ineffectual, either to awaken his curiosity, or to excite
his benevolence, by intimations of the importance, or of the haste, of
the business which she wished to communicate. 'Ay, girl, ay,' he would
reply; 'by and by will do just as well.'
But by and by came not! When she endeavoured to catch a moment, at the
hour of breakfast, the whole day, he would cry, was as good as thrown
away, if a man lost a moment of his morning: yet if she solicited his
hearing in the evening, he would cordially offer her some bread and
cheese, and beer; but rise from them himself, heavy and sleepy, to go to
bed; saying, 'Hark y', my girl; when you've worked as hard as a farmer,
you'll be as glad of your night's rest.'
If she sought him in the middle of the day, he was always surrounded by
his family, and by labourers, from whom he would never step apart;
telling her to speak out what she had to say, and to fear nothing and
nobody.
Farming, she soon found, he regarded as the only art of life worth
cultivation, or even worth attention; every other seemed to him
superfluous or silly. A woman, therefore, as she could neither plough
the field, nor mow the corn, he considered as every way an inferiour
being: and, like the savages of uncivilised nature, he would scarcely
have allowed a female a place at his board, but for the mitigation given
to his contempt, from regarding her as the mother of man.
The sex, therefore, of Juliet, was here wholly against her; and youth
and beauty, those powerful combatants of misanthropy! were necessarily
without influence, where they were never looked at: Could they ripen his
corn? or make his hay? No; What then, was their value?
Nevertheless, he treated neither his wife nor his daughters ill; he only
considered them as his servants: and when they were diligent and useful,
he praised them and gave them presents; and, when their work was done,
suffered them to seek what diversion they pleased, without interference
or controul. The females were indifferent, and therefore contented;
though neither confidential nor affectionate.
The sons, on the contrary, were open, boisterous, and daring;
domineering over their sisters, and mocking their mother; while they
nearly shared, with their partial father, both his authority and his
profits.
In a family such as this, Juliet had no chance of softening the languor
of her suspense by society; and books, its best substitute, had never
found their way into the farm-house; save an odd volume or two of
trials, sundry tracts upon farriery, and various dismal old ballads.
The first charm of this rural residence, consisting in its views and
its walks, soon lost something of its animation to Juliet, through the
restriction of fear, which impeded her from roving beyond the
neighbourhood of the farm. And though the beautiful prospect from the
meadow, and the air and exercise of mounting to the school, might
permanently have afforded her delight, if shared with some loved friend,
or enjoyed with some good author; she became, in a short time, through
the total deprivation of either, nearly as languid from monotony
without, as she was wearied by ungenial intercourse within.
On Sunday, after they had all been to church, the young women proposed
to accompany her in a stroll; and the hope of a romantic ramble without
danger, induced her acceptance of the invitation. This, however, was an
essay which she did not feel tempted to repeat. She found that their
only idea of taking a stroll, was to get away from home; and their only
object of pursuit, was to encounter their several sweethearts. They
walked not for exercise; they had more than enough in their daily
occupations. They walked not for air; they rarely spent an hour of the
day under shelter. They walked still less in search of rural views, or
picturesque beauties; they saw them not; or, rather, they saw them too
constantly to heed them. Their chosen scene was the high road; along
which they leisurely, but merrily sauntered, to enjoy,--not the verdure
of the adjacent fields, or wood; not the freshness of the salubrious
breeze; not the charm, here and there occasionally bursting upon the
sight, of sloping hills, or flowery dales; but to watch for every
distant cloud of rising dust, that announced, or that promised the
approach of a horse, cart, or waggon.
What, to these, was the pleasure of situation? Juliet saw, with concern,
that all which, to herself, would have solaced a similar way of life, to
them was null. Accustomed from their infancy to beautiful scenery, they
looked at it as a thing of course, without pleasure or admiration;
because without that which fixes all worldly acceptation of
happiness,--comparison.
The mother, whose existence, from the fear and from the commands of her
husband, was laborious; and, from her own love of saving, penurious; had
scarcely even any idea of pleasure, beyond what accrued from feeding her
rabbits, fattening her hogs, and carrying her eggs and poultry to a good
market.
The farmer, whose will had no controul, either from himself or his
family; and who indulged his own humours in the same proportion that he
kept theirs in awe, had yet a master; and a master more despotic and
ungovernable than himself,--the Weather! to whose power, however, he by
no means submitted tamely. The whole house rang with the violence of his
rage, if the rain fell while his hay were cutting or stacking; and he
could scarcely swallow his dinner for chagrin, if it failed to fall when
his peas wanted filling: his imprecations were those of a man provoked
by the grossest personal injury, if a sharp wind came not at his
bidding, when he perceived insects crawling upon the leaves of his
fruit-trees in the orchard; and his whole family trembled, as if
immediate ruin, or an earthquake were impending, when he claimed, and
claimed in vain, the sun to ripen his corn.
Juliet now found, that a farmer is sensible to no happiness, that a gust
of wind, a shower of rain, or the beams of the sun; as they meet, or
oppose, his wishes; does not confirm, or may not destroy.
The storms, nevertheless, raised by this man of the elements, were from
causes too obvious to create surprize; and they were known to be too
harmless in their operations, to occasion any other movement in his
household, than that of a general struggle which should first get out of
his way till they were blown over: but, to a stranger, to Juliet, they
were more tremendous, because as foreign to the habits of her life, as
they were ungenial to her nature. To change therefore, a scene so
continually overcast, she took leave of the family, thankfully repaying
the services which she had received; and left the farm, to lodge herself
with the pleasing old woman, who had won her favour, in the beautifully
picturesque cottage in the neighbourhood.