of Providence, a weak infantine voice reached his ears; it was lisping
out the name of mother. He looked, and beheld a blooming child leaning
over, and kissing with eager fondness, lips that were insensible to the
warm pressure. Starting at the sight of the sage, she fixed her eyes on
him, "Wake her, ah! wake her," she cried, "or the sea will catch us."
Again he felt compassion, for he saw that the mother slept the sleep of
death. He stretched out his hand, and, smoothing his brow, invited her to
approach; but she still intreated him to wake her mother, whom she
continued to call, with an impatient tremulous voice. To detach her from
the body by persuasion would not have been very easy. Sagestus had a
quicker method to effect his purpose; he took out a box which contained a
soporific powder, and as soon as the fumes reached her brain, the powers
of life were suspended.
He carried her directly to his hut, and left her sleeping profoundly on
his rushy couch.
CHAP. II.
AGAIN Sagestus approached the dead, to view them with a more scrutinizing
eye. He was perfectly acquainted with the construction of the human body,
knew the traces that virtue or vice leaves on the whole frame; they were
now indelibly fixed by death; nay more, he knew by the shape of the solid
structure, how far the spirit could range, and saw the barrier beyond
which it could not pass: the mazes of fancy he explored, measured the
stretch of thought, and, weighing all in an even balance, could tell whom
nature had stamped an hero, a poet, or philosopher.
By their appearance, at a transient glance, he knew that the vessel must
have contained many passengers, and that some of them were above the
vulgar, with respect to fortune and education; he then walked leisurely
among the dead, and narrowly observed their pallid features.
His eye first rested on a form in which proportion reigned, and, stroking
back the hair, a spacious forehead met his view; warm fancy had revelled
there, and her airy dance had left vestiges, scarcely visible to a mortal
eye. Some perpendicular lines pointed out that melancholy had
predominated in his constitution; yet the straggling hairs of his
eye-brows showed that anger had often shook his frame; indeed, the four
temperatures, like the four elements, had resided in this little world,
and produced harmony. The whole visage was bony, and an energetic frown
had knit the flexible skin of his brow; the kingdom within had been
extensive; and the wild creations of fancy had there "a local habitation
and a name." So exquisite was his sensibility, so quick his
comprehension, that he perceived various combinations in an instant; he
caught truth as she darted towards him, saw all her fair proportion at a
glance, and the flash of his eye spoke the quick senses which conveyed
intelligence to his mind; the sensorium indeed was capacious, and the
sage imagined he saw the lucid beam, sparkling with love or ambition, in
characters of fire, which a graceful curve of the upper eyelid shaded.
The lips were a little deranged by contempt; and a mixture of vanity and
self-complacency formed a few irregular lines round them. The chin had
suffered from sensuality, yet there were still great marks of vigour in
it, as if advanced with stern dignity. The hand accustomed to command,
and even tyrannize, was unnerved; but its appearance convinced Sagestus,
that he had oftener wielded a thought than a weapon; and that he had
silenced, by irresistible conviction, the superficial disputant, and the
being, who doubted because he had not strength to believe, who, wavering
between different borrowed opinions, first caught at one straw, then at
another, unable to settle into any consistency of character. After gazing
a few moments, Sagestus turned away exclaiming, How are the stately oaks
torn up by a tempest, and the bow unstrung, that could force the arrow
beyond the ken of the eye!
What a different face next met his view! The forehead was short, yet well
set together; the nose small, but a little turned up at the end; and a
draw-down at the sides of his mouth, proved that he had been a humourist,
who minded the main chance, and could joke with his acquaintance, while
he eagerly devoured a dainty which he was not to pay for. His lips shut
like a box whose hinges had often been mended; and the muscles, which
display the soft emotion of the heart on the cheeks, were grown quite
rigid, so that, the vessels that should have moistened them not having
much communication with the grand source of passions, the fine volatile
fluid had evaporated, and they became mere dry fibres, which might be
pulled by any misfortune that threatened himself, but were not
sufficiently elastic to be moved by the miseries of others. His joints
were inserted compactly, and with celerity they had performed all the
animal functions, without any of the grace which results from the
imagination mixing with the senses.
A huge form was stretched near him, that exhibited marks of overgrown
infancy; every part was relaxed; all appeared imperfect. Yet, some
undulating lines on the puffed-out cheeks, displayed signs of timid,
servile good nature; and the skin of the forehead had been so often drawn
up by wonder, that the few hairs of the eyebrows were fixed in a sharp
arch, whilst an ample chin rested in lobes of flesh on his protuberant
breast.
By his side was a body that had scarcely ever much life in it--sympathy
seemed to have drawn them together--every feature and limb was round and
fleshy, and, if a kind of brutal cunning had not marked the face, it
might have been mistaken for an automaton, so unmixed was the phlegmatic
fluid. The vital spark was buried deep in a soft mass of matter,
resembling the pith in young elder, which, when found, is so equivocal,
that it only appears a moister part of the same body.
Another part of the beach was covered with sailors, whose bodies
exhibited marks of strength and brutal courage.--Their characters were
all different, though of the same class; Sagestus did not stay to
discriminate them, satisfied with a rough sketch. He saw indolence roused
by a love of humour, or rather bodily fun; sensuality and prodigality
with a vein of generosity running through it; a contempt of danger with
gross superstition; supine senses, only to be kept alive by noisy,
tumultuous pleasures, or that kind of novelty which borders on absurdity:
this formed the common outline, and the rest were rather dabs than
shades.
Sagestus paused, and remembered it had been said by an earthly wit, that
"many a flower is born to blush unseen, and waste its sweetness on the
desart air." How little, he exclaimed, did that poet know of the ways of
heaven! And yet, in this respect, they are direct; the hands before me,
were designed to pull a rope, knock down a sheep, or perform the servile
offices of life; no "mute, inglorious poet" rests amongst them, and he
who is superior to his fellow, does not rise above mediocrity. The genius
that sprouts from a dunghil soon shakes off the heterogenous mass; those
only grovel, who have not power to fly.
He turned his step towards the mother of the orphan: another female was
at some distance; and a man who, by his garb, might have been the
husband, or brother, of the former, was not far off.
Him the sage surveyed with an attentive eye, and bowed with respect to
the inanimate clay, that lately had been the dwelling of a most
benevolent spirit. The head was square, though the features were not very
prominent; but there was a great harmony in every part, and the turn of
the nostrils and lips evinced, that the soul must have had taste, to
which they had served as organs. Penetration and judgment were seated on
the brows that overhung the eye. Fixed as it was, Sagestus quickly
discerned the expression it must have had; dark and pensive, rather from
slowness of comprehension than melancholy, it seemed to absorb the light
of knowledge, to drink it in ray by ray; nay, a new one was not allowed
to enter his head till the last was arranged: an opinion was thus
cautiously received, and maturely weighed, before it was added to the
general stock. As nature led him to mount from a part to the whole, he
was most conversant with the beautiful, and rarely comprehended the
sublime; yet, said Sagestus, with a softened tone, he was all heart, full
of forbearance, and desirous to please every fellow-creature; but from a
nobler motive than a love of admiration; the fumes of vanity never
mounted to cloud his brain, or tarnish his beneficence. The fluid in
which those placid eyes swam, is now congealed; how often has tenderness
given them the finest water! Some torn parts of the child's dress hung
round his arm, which led the sage to conclude, that he had saved the
child; every line in his face confirmed the conjecture; benevolence
indeed strung the nerves that naturally were not very firm; it was the
great knot that tied together the scattered qualities, and gave the
distinct stamp to the character.
The female whom he next approached, and supposed to be an attendant on
the other, was below the middle size, and her legs were so
disproportionably short, that, when she moved, she must have waddled
along; her elbows were drawn in to touch her long taper, waist, and the
air of her whole body was an affectation of gentility. Death could not
alter the rigid hang of her limbs, or efface the simper that had
stretched her mouth; the lips were thin, as if nature intended she should
mince her words; her nose was small, and sharp at the end; and the
forehead, unmarked by eyebrows, was wrinkled by the discontent that had
sunk her cheeks, on which Sagestus still discerned faint traces of
tenderness; and fierce good-nature, he perceived had sometimes animated
the little spark of an eye that anger had oftener lighted. The same
thought occurred to him that the sight of the sailors had suggested, Men
and women are all in their proper places--this female was intended to
fold up linen and nurse the sick.
Anxious to observe the mother of his charge, he turned to the lily that
had been so rudely snapped, and, carefully observing it, traced every
fine line to its source. There was a delicacy in her form, so truly
feminine, that an involuntary desire to cherish such a being, made the
sage again feel the almost forgotten sensations of his nature. On
observing her more closely, he discovered that her natural delicacy had
been increased by an improper education, to a degree that took away all
vigour from her faculties. And its baneful influence had had such an
effect on her mind, that few traces of the exertions of it appeared on
her face, though the fine finish of her features, and particularly the
form of the forehead, convinced the sage that her understanding might
have risen considerably above mediocrity, had the wheels ever been put in
motion; but, clogged by prejudices, they never turned quite round, and,
whenever she considered a subject, she stopped before she came to a
conclusion. Assuming a mask of propriety, she had banished nature; yet
its tendency was only to be diverted, not stifled. Some lines, which took
from the symmetry of the mouth, not very obvious to a superficial
observer, struck Sagestus, and they appeared to him characters of
indolent obstinacy. Not having courage to form an opinion of her own, she
adhered, with blind partiality, to those she adopted, which she received
in the lump, and, as they always remained unopened, of course she only
saw the even gloss on the outside. Vestiges of anger were visible on her
brow, and the sage concluded, that she had often been offended with, and
indeed would scarcely make any allowance for, those who did not coincide
with her in opinion, as things always appear self-evident that have never
been examined; yet her very weakness gave a charming timidity to her
countenance; goodness and tenderness pervaded every lineament, and melted
in her dark blue eyes. The compassion that wanted activity, was sincere,
though it only embellished her face, or produced casual acts of charity
when a moderate alms could relieve present distress. Unacquainted with
life, fictitious, unnatural distress drew the tears that were not shed
for real misery. In its own shape, human wretchedness excites a little
disgust in the mind that has indulged sickly refinement. Perhaps the
sage gave way to a little conjecture in drawing the last conclusion; but
his conjectures generally arose from distinct ideas, and a dawn of light
allowed him to see a great way farther than common mortals.
He was now convinced that the orphan was not very unfortunate in having
lost such a mother. The parent that inspires fond affection without
respect, is seldom an useful one; and they only are respectable, who
consider right and wrong abstracted from local forms and accidental
modifications.
Determined to adopt the child, he named it after himself, Sagesta, and
retired to the hut where the innocent slept, to think of the best method
of educating this child, whom the angry deep had spared.
[The last branch of the education of Sagesta, consisted of a variety of
characters and stories presented to her in the Cave of Fancy, of which
the following is a specimen.]
CHAP.
A FORM now approached that particularly struck and interested Sagesta.
The sage, observing what passed in her mind, bade her ever trust to the
first impression. In life, he continued, try to remember the effect the
first appearance of a stranger has on your mind; and, in proportion to
your sensibility, you may decide on the character. Intelligence glances
from eyes that have the same pursuits, and a benevolent heart soon traces
the marks of benevolence on the countenance of an unknown
fellow-creature; and not only the countenance, but the gestures, the
voice, loudly speak truth to the unprejudiced mind.
Whenever a stranger advances towards you with a tripping step, receives
you with broad smiles, and a profusion of compliments, and yet you find
yourself embarrassed and unable to return the salutation with equal
cordiality, be assured that such a person is affected, and endeavours to
maintain a very good character in the eyes of the world, without really
practising the social virtues which dress the face in looks of unfeigned
complacency. Kindred minds are drawn to each other by expressions which
elude description; and, like the calm breeze that plays on a smooth lake,
they are rather felt than seen. Beware of a man who always appears in
good humour; a selfish design too frequently lurks in the smiles the
heart never curved; or there is an affectation of candour that destroys
all strength of character, by blending truth and falshood into an
unmeaning mass. The mouth, in fact, seems to be the feature where you may
trace every kind of dissimulation, from the simper of vanity, to the
fixed smile of the designing villain. Perhaps, the modulations of the
voice will still more quickly give a key to the character than even the
turns of the mouth, or the words that issue from it; often do the tones
of unpractised dissemblers give the lie to their assertions. Many people
never speak in an unnatural voice, but when they are insincere: the
phrases not corresponding with the dictates of the heart, have nothing to
keep them in tune. In the course of an argument however, you may easily
discover whether vanity or conviction stimulates the disputant, though
his inflated countenance may be turned from you, and you may not see the
gestures which mark self-sufficiency. He stopped, and the spirit began.
I have wandered through the cave; and, as soon as I have taught you a
useful lesson, I shall take my flight where my tears will cease to flow,
and where mine eyes will no more be shocked with the sight of guilt and
sorrow. Before many moons have changed, thou wilt enter, O mortal! into
that world I have lately left. Listen to my warning voice, and trust not
too much to the goodness which I perceive resides in thy breast. Let it
be reined in by principles, lest thy very virtue sharpen the sting of
remorse, which as naturally follows disorder in the moral world, as pain
attends on intemperance in the physical. But my history will afford you
more instruction than mere advice. Sagestus concurred in opinion with
her, observing that the senses of children should be the first object of
improvement; then their passions worked on; and judgment the fruit, must
be the acquirement of the being itself, when out of leading-strings. The
spirit bowed assent, and, without any further prelude, entered on her
history.
My mother was a most respectable character, but she was yoked to a man
whose follies and vices made her ever feel the weight of her chains. The
first sensation I recollect, was pity; for I have seen her weep over me
and the rest of her babes, lamenting that the extravagance of a father
would throw us destitute on the world. But, though my father was
extravagant, and seldom thought of any thing but his own pleasures, our
education was not neglected. In solitude, this employment was my mother's
only solace; and my father's pride made him procure us masters; nay,
sometimes he was so gratified by our improvement, that he would embrace
us with tenderness, and intreat my mother to forgive him, with marks of
real contrition. But the affection his penitence gave rise to, only
served to expose her to continual disappointments, and keep hope alive
merely to torment her. After a violent debauch he would let his beard
grow, and the sadness that reigned in the house I shall never forget; he
was ashamed to meet even the eyes of his children. This is so contrary to
the nature of things, it gave me exquisite pain; I used, at those times,
to show him extreme respect. I could not bear to see my parent humble
himself before me. However neither his constitution, nor fortune could
long bear the constant waste. He had, I have observed, a childish
affection for his children, which was displayed in caresses that
gratified him for the moment, yet never restrained the headlong fury of
his appetites; his momentary repentance wrung his heart, without
influencing his conduct; and he died, leaving an encumbered wreck of a
good estate.
As we had always lived in splendid poverty, rather than in affluence, the
shock was not so great; and my mother repressed her anguish, and
concealed some circumstances, that she might not shed a destructive
mildew over the gaiety of youth.
So fondly did I doat on this dear parent, that she engrossed all my
tenderness; her sorrows had knit me firmly to her, and my chief care was
to give her proofs of affection. The gallantry that afforded my
companions, the few young people my mother forced me to mix with, so much
pleasure, I despised; I wished more to be loved than admired, for I could
love. I adored virtue; and my imagination, chasing a chimerical object,
overlooked the common pleasures of life; they were not sufficient for my
happiness. A latent fire made me burn to rise superior to my
contemporaries in wisdom and virtue; and tears of joy and emulation
filled my eyes when I read an account of a great action--I felt
admiration, not astonishment.
My mother had two particular friends, who endeavoured to settle her
affairs; one was a middle-aged man, a merchant; the human breast never
enshrined a more benevolent heart. His manners were rather rough, and he
bluntly spoke his thoughts without observing the pain it gave; yet he
possessed extreme tenderness, as far as his discernment went. Men do not
make sufficient distinction, said she, digressing from her story to
address Sagestus, between tenderness and sensibility.
To give the shortest definition of sensibility, replied the sage, I
should say that it is the result of acute senses, finely fashioned
nerves, which vibrate at the slightest touch, and convey such clear
intelligence to the brain, that it does not require to be arranged by the
judgment. Such persons instantly enter into the characters of others, and
instinctively discern what will give pain to every human being; their own
feelings are so varied that they seem to contain in themselves, not only
all the passions of the species, but their various modifications.
Exquisite pain and pleasure is their portion; nature wears for them a
different aspect than is displayed to common mortals. One moment it is a
paradise; all is beautiful: a cloud arises, an emotion receives a sudden
damp; darkness invades the sky, and the world is an unweeded garden;--but
go on with your narrative, said Sagestus, recollecting himself.
She proceeded. The man I am describing was humanity itself; but
frequently he did not understand me; many of my feelings were not to be
analyzed by his common sense. His friendships, for he had many friends,
gave him pleasure unmixed with pain; his religion was coldly reasonable,
because he wanted fancy, and he did not feel the necessity of finding,
or creating, a perfect object, to answer the one engraved on his heart:
the sketch there was faint. He went with the stream, and rather caught a
character from the society he lived in, than spread one around him. In my
mind many opinions were graven with a pen of brass, which he thought
chimerical: but time could not erase them, and I now recognize them as
the seeds of eternal happiness: they will soon expand in those realms
where I shall enjoy the bliss adapted to my nature; this is all we need
ask of the Supreme Being; happiness must follow the completion of his
designs. He however could live quietly, without giving a preponderancy to
many important opinions that continually obtruded on my mind; not having
an enthusiastic affection for his fellow creatures, he did them good,
without suffering from their follies. He was particularly attached to me,
and I felt for him all the affection of a daughter; often, when he had
been interesting himself to promote my welfare, have I lamented that he
was not my father; lamented that the vices of mine had dried up one
source of pure affection.
The other friend I have already alluded to, was of a very different
character; greatness of mind, and those combinations of feeling which are
so difficult to describe, raised him above the throng, that bustle their
hour out, lie down to sleep, and are forgotten. But I shall soon see him,
she exclaimed, as much superior to his former self, as he then rose in my
eyes above his fellow creatures! As she spoke, a glow of delight
animated each feature; her countenance appeared transparent; and she
silently anticipated the happiness she should enjoy, when she entered
those mansions, where death-divided friends should meet, to part no more;
where human weakness could not damp their bliss, or poison the cup of joy
that, on earth, drops from the lips as soon as tasted, or, if some daring
mortal snatches a hasty draught, what was sweet to the taste becomes a
root of bitterness.
He was unfortunate, had many cares to struggle with, and I marked on his
cheeks traces of the same sorrows that sunk my own. He was unhappy I say,
and perhaps pity might first have awoke my tenderness; for, early in
life, an artful woman worked on his compassionate soul, and he united his
fate to a being made up of such jarring elements, that he was still
alone. The discovery did not extinguish that propensity to love, a high
sense of virtue fed. I saw him sick and unhappy, without a friend to
sooth the hours languor made heavy; often did I sit a long winter's
evening by his side, railing at the swift wings of time, and terming my
love, humanity.
Two years passed in this manner, silently rooting my affection; and it
might have continued calm, if a fever had not brought him to the very
verge of the grave. Though still deceived, I was miserable that the
customs of the world did not allow me to watch by him; when sleep forsook
his pillow, my wearied eyes were not closed, and my anxious spirit
hovered round his bed. I saw him, before he had recovered his strength;
and, when his hand touched mine, life almost retired, or flew to meet
the touch. The first look found a ready way to my heart, and thrilled
through every vein. We were left alone, and insensibly began to talk of
the immortality of the soul; I declared that I could not live without
this conviction. In the ardour of conversation he pressed my hand to his
heart; it rested there a moment, and my emotions gave weight to my
opinion, for the affection we felt was not of a perishable nature.--A
silence ensued, I know not how long; he then threw my hand from him, as
if it had been a serpent; formally complained of the weather, and
adverted to twenty other uninteresting subjects. Vain efforts! Our hearts
had already spoken to each other.