THUS ended my romance with that poor unhappy one; yet it did not fail to
produce me many sweet sensations during several weeks. Often, when
steeped in melancholy, would her sweet calm voice breathe consolation to
my spirit; when, dwelling on the meanness and ingratitude of mankind, I
became irritated, and hated the world, the voice of Maddalene gently led
me back to feelings of compassion and indulgence.
How I wish, poor, unknown, kind-hearted repentant one, that no heavy
punishment may befall thee. And whatever thou shalt suffer, may it well
avail thee, re-dignify thy nature, and teach thee to live and die to thy
Saviour and thy Lord. Mayest thou meet compassion and respect from all
around thee, as thou didst from me a stranger to thee. Mayest thou teach
all who see thee thy gentle lesson of patience, sweetness, the love of
virtue, and faith in God, with which thou didst inspire him who loved
without having beheld thee. Perhaps I erred in thinking thee beautiful,
but, sure I am, thou didst wear the beauty of the soul. Thy
conversation, though spoken amidst grossness and corruption of every
kind, was ever chaste and graceful; whilst others imprecated, thou didst
bless; when eager in contention, thy sweet voice still pacified, like oil
upon the troubled waters. If any noble mind hath read thy worth, and
snatched thee from an evil career; hath assisted thee with delicacy, and
wiped the tears from thy eyes, may every reward heaven can give be his
portion, that of his children, and of his children’s children!
Next to mine was another prison occupied by several men. I also heard
_their_ conversation. One seemed of superior authority, not so much
probably from any difference of rank, as owing to greater eloquence and
boldness. He played, what may musically be termed, the first fiddle. He
stormed himself, yet put to silence those who presumed to quarrel by his
imperious voice. He dictated the tone of the society, and after some
feeble efforts to throw off his authority they submitted, and gave the
reins into his hands.
There was not a single one of those unhappy men who had a touch of that
in him to soften the harshness of prison hours, to express one kindly
sentiment, one emanation of religion, or of love. The chief of these
neighbours of mine saluted me, and I replied. He asked me how I
contrived to pass such a cursed dull life? I answered, that it was
melancholy, to be sure; but no life was a cursed one to me, and that to
our last hour, it was best to do all to procure oneself the pleasure of
thinking and of loving.
“Explain, sir, explain what you mean!”
I explained, but was not understood. After many ingenious attempts, I
determined to clear it up in the form of example, and had the courage to
bring forward the extremely singular and moving effect produced upon me
by the voice of Maddalene; when the magisterial head of the prison burst
into a violent fit of laughter. “What is all that, what is that?” cried
his companions. He then repeated my words with an air of burlesque;
peals of laughter followed, and I there stood, in their eyes, the picture
of a convicted blockhead.
As it is in prison, so it is in the world. Those who make it their
wisdom to go into passions, to complain, to defy, to abuse, think that to
pity, to love, to console yourself with gentle and beautiful thoughts and
images, in accord with humanity and its great Author, is all mere folly.