Fortune seconded this next project, and I foresaw the possibility of regaining the happiness I had lost: the desire of laying the fruits of my travels at the feet of my Julia, gave me as much industry as perseverance; I vanquished my natural indolence, and the tiresome disgust with which this new species of employment at first inspired me, and read and reflected during the time that business did not call my attention.
Study soon ceased to appear painful: I acquired a pa.s.sionate love for reading; my mind was insensibly enlightened, my ideas enlarged, and my heart became calm. Industry, reading, and thinking, recovered me, by degrees, from the soporiferous draught of indolence; religion likewise gave fort.i.tude to reason, elevated my soul, and released me from the tyrannical empire of pa.s.sion.
This revolution in my temper and sentiments did not at all change my projects. "Tis true, I had no longer that excessive and silly pa.s.sion for Julia which had made us both so unhappy. I loved with less violence, with less self-interest, but with more certainty. Pa.s.sion is always blind, selfish, and seeking its own satisfaction: friendship is founded upon esteem, owes all its power to virtue, is more affectionate, and the more affectionate it is, the more it is equitable and generous.
I pa.s.sed five years in Holland, during which time I was constantly fortunate in the business in which I was engaged; and at length, by extreme conomy and unwearied a.s.siduity, entirely re-established my fortune. I then thought of nothing but of once more visiting my own country. I imagined, with the most tender delight, the happiness I was going to regain, when falling at the feet of Julia, I might say to her, "I return worthy of you; I return to consecrate my life to your happiness."
Thus occupied by the most delightful of ideas, I departed from Holland, far, alas! from suspecting the blow I was about to receive.
I had written to Sinclair, desiring him to inform Julia of my journey, and received an answer at Brussels; by which I learned Julia had had a fever, but at the same time the letter a.s.sured she had not been dangerously ill, and was almost recovered. The explanations which accompanied that letter prevented all uneasiness, and I continued my route with no other fear than that of seeing Julia more surprized than affected at my resolutions and return.
I drew nearer and nearer to Paris, and at last, when within twenty leagues, I met Sinclair, who stopped my carriage, and descended from his own: I opened my door, and flew to embrace him; but as soon as my eyes met his, I shuddered: astonishment and terror rendered me speechless!
Sinclair opened his arms to me, but his face was bathed in tears!
I durst not ask the reason, and he had not the power to tell me.
I expected the worst, and from that moment faithless fleeting joys forever forsook my heart!
Sinclair dragged me towards my carriage without speaking a single word, and the postillions instantly quitted the road to Paris. "Whither are you taking me?" cried I distractedly; "tell me: I will know."
Ah, unhappy man!
Go on! continue! strike me to the heart!
Sinclair answered not, but wept and embraced me. Tell me, continued I, what is my fate? Is it her hatred, or her loss, thou wouldst announce?
Sinclair"s lips opened to answer, and my heart sunk within me; I wanted the courage to hear him p.r.o.nounce my sentence; "Oh, my friend!" added I, "my life this moment is in thy hands."
The supplicating tone with which I spoke these words, sufficiently expressed my feelings. Sinclair looked at me with compa.s.sion in his eyes. "I can be silent," said he, "but dare not deceive:" he stopt; I asked no more; and the rest of the road we both kept a profound silence, which was only interrupted by my sobs and sighs.
Sinclair conducted me to a country-house, where I at length received a confirmation of my misery: alas! all was lost: Julia existed no more; her death not only deprived me of all felicity, but took from me the means of repairing my faults, of expiating my past errors, except by regret, repentance, and by daily pouring out my silent griefs before an elegant Mausoleum, which the generous friendship of Sinclair had kindly caused to be erected to her memory in the neighbourhood of his country-house.
The remainder of my history has nothing interesting; consoled by time and religion, I consecrated the rest of my career to friendship, study, and the offices of humanity; I obtained my uncle"s pardon, and the care of making him happy became my greatest delight; and I fulfilled, without effort, and in their whole extent, those sacred duties which nature and grat.i.tude required.
Though my uncle was far advanced in years, heaven still permitted him to remain with me ten years, after which I had the misfortune to lose him: I purchased his estate, and retired thither for the rest of my days.
Sinclair promised to come and see me once a-year, and though fifteen are now past since that event, we have never been eighteen months without seeing each other.
Sinclair, at present in his fifty-eighth year, has run a career the most brilliant and the most fortunate: a happy husband, a happy father, a successful warrior, covered with glory, loaded with fortune"s favours, he enjoys a felicity and fate the more transcendant, in that they only could be procured by virtue united to genius.
As for me, I, in my obscure mediocrity, might yet find happiness, were it not for the mournful, the bitter remembrance of the evils which others have suffered through the errors of my youth.
[[Sources:
Original: _Les veillees du chateau_, 1785, by Stephanie Felicite, comtesse de Genlis, 1746-1830.
English Translation: _Tales of the castle; or, Stories of instruction and delight_, trans. Thomas Holcroft, 1745-1809. This selection is pages 203-270 in Volume 1 (of 5), in the 1793 (4th) edition.
The serial began in no. 45 of the New-York Weekly; the first 8 of its 12 installments are in Volume I.
Link: ADVENTURE OF A SPANISH n.o.bLEMAN.
_From the Chevalier De Rabilier"s remarkable Events of the present Century._
Francis Anthony De Sandoval, duke of Medina Celi, and of St. Lucar, in the province of Andalusia, was not only a grandee of the first cla.s.s, but exceedingly beloved in the country where he usually resided, on account of his great benevolence and affability to all ranks of people who approached him. Having a prodigious estate in lands, besides the duties and customs of the port of St. Lucar, near Seville, which were conferred on his family by Roderick the last monarch of the Gothic race, he kept a sort of vice royal court, to which the n.o.bility, gentry, and merchants, around his wide domain, were always welcomed with the grandeur of a prince, the hospitality of a burgher, and the smiles of a friend. Young, rich, powerful, and revered by thousands, who considered him as the pride of their country, and an honour to the whole nation, nothing seemed wanting to complete the felicity of this worthy n.o.bleman, but an alliance suitable to his elevated rank and more distinguished virtues. Many were the overtures on that head, from the most ill.u.s.trious families in every part of Spain; but his grace, who was of a domestic turn, and averse from the vanities of high life, declined entering into any engagement which might subject him to the impertinence, folly, and etiquette, to which the major part of the fashionable world seem to abound, either as servile imitators, or involuntary slaves. He loved magnificence, but abhorred ceremony as much as the amus.e.m.e.nts wherein persons of fortune usually lose the best part of their time. Hunting he considered as a manly exercise, calculated to brace the nerves, and give circulation to the blood, therefore to be taken occasionally as physic, not followed as a trade. It may be asked by some fantastic man of pleasure of the court, or jolly squire of the country, how then could a person of his quality spend his leisure hours? Why, in reading, walking, entertaining his numerous friends at home, and returning the necessary visits abroad, in various innocent parties on land and water, in keeping up his gardens and improvements, in examining his vast houshold accounts, inspecting the state of his va.s.sals and farmers, hearing and redressing their grievances, portioning the marriageable daughters of his poor tenantry, and presiding at those nuptials, where he is considered in the threefold light of father, benefactor, and guardian; as the ministering angel of comfort, and deputed commissioner of a bountiful Providence, to dispense his gracious mercies amongst the sons and daughters of affliction. If to these healthful avocations and duties, so worthy elevated rank and rich possessions, we add the public and private attendance on religious worship, frequent self-examination, and the distribution of super-abundant wealth, to modest indigence and clamorous distress, as a small tribute for the distinguished blessings, which rightly enjoyed, will confer the purest happiness here, and a crown of glory in the regions of everlasting day hereafter, little or no time can be spared for frivolous amus.e.m.e.nts or sinful pursuits. Think of this, ye extravagant and debauched men of quality without peace, morals, or good faith, whose hours are sacrificed to folly, whose minds are the sport of delusion, whose bodies are the sinks of disease, and whose fortunes are hastening to the hands of the extortioner who sooner or later, will consume all you possess! Let the example of the duke of Medina point out the true man of sense, honour and distinction; act like him and be happy!
Whilst this model of real n.o.bility was thus blessed, and blessing all around, chance led him to the house of a tradesman in Seville, whose only son was that very day to be married to an amiable girl of that city. The condescension with which his grace always accepted an offer of contributing to the pleasure of his friends and neighbours, rendered much solicitation needless, and he determined to stand bridesman on the occasion. The guests were a company of genteel citizens, who with their wives and daughters, made a very tolerable appearance, and the duke seemed delighted with manners not viciously refined, where elegance, unsullied by pride or affectation, and beauty, una.s.sisted by art, shone out in native meridian l.u.s.tre. But, with what joy did he behold a plain, modest maiden, daughter to a linen-draper, named Anthony de Valdez, who came with her mother to the wedding! He gazed, he admired, he loved, this picture of rural innocence, with as much elegance and sensibility as suited his ideas of a perfect form, joined to an amiable and virtuous mind. After some acquaintance and private enquiries, which terminated to the advantage of the young lady and her family, the duke demanded the fair Elvira de Valdez in marriage, and was received with equal joy and astonishment by the honest couple, who shed tears of grat.i.tude for the happiness offered their beloved child by the richest and most ill.u.s.trious lord in the whole monarchy of Spain. Miss Elvira expressed no reluctance, but what proceeded from her own demerit and total inequality; but this was soon got over, and the happy day fixed for the Sunday following.
(_To be concluded in our next._)
AN ACCOUNT
OF A MURDER COMMITTED BY MR. J---- Y----, UPON HIS FAMILY, IN DECEMBER, A. D. 1781.
(_Concluded from page 20._)
At the noise of my feet upon the dry corn stalks---she turned hastily round and seeing me exclaimed, "O father, my dear father, spare me, let me live--let me live,--I will be a comfort to you and my mother--spare me to take care of my little sister Diana--do--do let me live."--She was my darling child, and her fearful cries pierced me to the soul---the tears of _natural pity_ fell as plentifully down my cheeks, as those of terror did down her"s, and methought that to destroy _all_ my idols, was a hard task---I again relapsed at the voice of complaining; and taking her by the hand, led her to where her mother lay; then thinking that if I intended to retain her, I must make some other severe sacrifice, I bade her sing and dance---She complied, terribly situated as she was,---but I was not asking in the line of my duty--I was convinced of my error, and catching up a hatchet that stuck in a log, with one well aimed stroke cleft her forehead in twain---she fell---and no sign of retaining life appeared.
I then sat down on the threshold, to consider what I had best do---"I shall be called a murderer (said I) I shall be seized--imprisoned--executed, and for what?--for destroying my idols---for obeying the mandate of my father---no, I will put all the dead in the house together, and after setting fire to it, run to my sister"s and say the Indians have done it---"I was preparing to drag my wife in, when the idea struck me that I was going to tell a _horrible lie_;" and how will that accord with my profession? (asked I.) No, let me speak the truth, and declare the good motive for my actions, be the consequences what they may."
His sister, who was the princ.i.p.al evidence against him, stated---that she had scarce got home, when a message came to Mr. J----n, her husband, informing him that his mother was ill and wished to see him; he accordingly set off immediately, and she not expecting him home again till the next day, went to bed---there being no other person in the house. About four in the morning she heard her brother Y------ call her, she started up and bade him come in. "I will not (returned he) for I have committed the unpardonable sin---I have burnt the Bible." She knew not what to think, but rising hastily opened the door which was only latched, and caught hold of his hand: let me go, Nelly (said he) my hands are wet with blood---the blood of my Elizabeth and her children.---She saw the blood dripping from his fingers, and her"s chilled in the veins, yet with a fort.i.tude unparalleled she begged him to enter, which--as he did, he attempted to sieze a case knife, that by the light of a bright pine-knot fire, he perceived lying on the dresser---she prevented him, however, and tearing a trammel from the chimney, bound him with it to the bed post---fastening his hands behind him---She then quitted the house in order to go to his, which as she approached she heard the voice of loud lamentation, the hope that it was some one of the family who had escaped the effects of her brother"s frenzy, subdued the fears natural to such a situation and time, she quickened her steps, and when she came to the place where Mrs. Y---- lay, she perceived that the moans came from Mrs. Y----"s aged father, who expecting that his daughter would set out upon her journey by day break, had come at that early hour to bid her farewel.
They alarmed their nearest neighbours immediately, who proceeded to Mrs.
J----n"s, and there found Mr. Y---- in the situation she had left him; they took him from hence to Tomhanick, where he remained near two days---during which time Mr. W--tz--l (a pious old Lutheran, who occasionally acted as preacher) attended upon him, exhorting him to pray and repent; but he received the admonitions with contempt, and several times with ridicule, refusing to confess his error or _join_ in prayer---I say _join_ in prayer, for he would not kneel when the rest did, but when they arose he would prostrate himself and address his "father," frequently saying "my father, thou knowest that it was in obedience to thy commands, and for thy glory that I have done this deed." Mrs. Bl--------r, at whose house he then was, bade some one ask him who his father was?--he made no reply---but pushing away the person who stood between her and himself, darted at her a look of such indignation as thrilled horror to her heart---his speech was connected, and he told his tale without variation; he expressed much sorrow for the loss of his dear family, but consoled himself with the idea of having performed his duty--he was taken to ALBANY and there confined as a lunatic in the goal, from which he escaped twice, once by the a.s.sistance of Aqua Fortis, with which he opened the front door.
I went in 1782 with a little girl, by whom Mr. Bl-----r had sent him some fruit; he was then confined in dungeon, and had several chains on---he appeared to be much affected at her remembrance of him, and put up a pious e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.n for her and her family---since then I have received no accounts respecting him.
The cause for his wonderfully cruel proceedings is beyond the conception of human beings---the deed so unpremeditated, so unprovoked, that we do not hesitate to p.r.o.nounce it the effect of insanity---yet upon the other hand, when we reflect on the equanimity of his temper, and the comfortable situation in which he was, and no visible circ.u.mstance operating to render him frantic, we are apt to conclude, that he was under a strong delusion of Satan. But what avail our conjectures, perhaps it is best that some things are concealed from us, and the only use we can now make of our knowledge of this affair, is to be humble under a scene of human frailty to renew our pet.i.tion, "Lead us not into temptation."
May 27, 1796.
[[Sources:
This is believed to be the original publication of the narrative.
The author may be Margaretta Faugeres, daughter of Ann Eliza Bleecker ("Mrs. Bl----er")
Notes: Tomhanick is now spelled Tomhannock.]]
BEAUTIFUL ALLEGORY.