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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..e3467a8 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #53687 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/53687) diff --git a/old/53687-0.txt b/old/53687-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 1b0a303..0000000 --- a/old/53687-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,5971 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Melmoth the Wanderer Vol 3 (of 4), by -Charles Robert Maturin - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - - - -Title: Melmoth the Wanderer Vol 3 (of 4) - -Author: Charles Robert Maturin - -Release Date: December 7, 2016 [EBook #53687] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MELMOTH THE WANDERER VOL 3 (OF 4) *** - - - - -Produced by David Edwards, Jana Srna and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This -file was produced from images generously made available -by The Internet Archive) - - - - - - - Transcriber’s Notes: - - Every effort has been made to replicate this text as faithfully as - possible, including inconsistencies in spelling, hyphenation, and - punctuation. Some corrections of spelling and punctuation have been - made. They are listed at the end of the text. - - Italic text has been marked with _underscores_. - - - - - MELMOTH - THE - WANDERER: - A - TALE. - - BY THE AUTHOR OF “BERTRAM,” &c. - - IN FOUR VOLUMES. - - VOL. III. - - EDINBURGH: - PRINTED FOR ARCHIBALD CONSTABLE AND COMPANY, - AND HURST, ROBINSON, AND CO. CHEAPSIDE, - LONDON. - - 1820. - - - - -MELMOTH. - - - - -CHAPTER XII. - - Juravi lingua, mentem injuratam gero.---- - Who brought you first acquainted with the devil? - - SHIRLEY’S ST PATRICK FOR IRELAND. - - -“I ran on till I had no longer breath or strength, (without perceiving -that I was in a dark passage), till I was stopt by a door. In falling -against it, I burst it open, and found myself in a low dark room. When I -raised myself, for I had fallen on my hands and knees, I looked round, -and saw something so singular, as to suspend even my personal anxiety -and terror for a moment. - -“The room was very small; and I could perceive by the rents, that I had -not only broken open a door, but a large curtain which hung before it, -whose ample folds still afforded me concealment if I required it. There -was no one in the room, and I had time to study its singular furniture -at leisure. - -“There was a table covered with cloth; on it were placed a vessel of a -singular construction, a book, into whose pages I looked, but could not -make out a single letter. I therefore wisely took it for a book of -magic, and closed it with a feeling of exculpatory horror. (It happened -to be a copy of the Hebrew Bible, marked with the Samaritan points). -There was a knife too; and a cock was fastened to the leg of the table, -whose loud crows announced his impatience of further constraint(1). - - (1) Quilibet postea paterfamilias, cum _gallo_ præ manibus, in medium - primus prodit. * * * * * * * * - - Deinde expiationem aggreditur et capiti suo ter gallum allidit, - singulosque ictus his vocibus prosequitur. Hic Gallus sit permutio pro - me, &c. * * * * * * * Gallo deinde imponens manus, eum statim mactat, - &c. - - Vide Buxtorf, as quoted in Dr Magee (Bishop of Raphoe’s) work on the - atonement. Cumberland in his Observer, I think, mentions the discovery - to have been reserved for the feast of the Passover. It is just as - probable it was made on the day of expiation. - -“I felt that this apparatus was somewhat singular--it looked like a -preparation for a sacrifice. I shuddered, and wrapt myself in the -volumes of the drapery which hung before the door my fall had broken -open. A dim lamp, suspended from the ceiling, discovered to me all these -objects, and enabled me to observe what followed almost immediately. A -man of middle age, but whose physiognomy had something peculiar in it, -even to the eye of a Spaniard, from the clustering darkness of his -eye-brows, his prominent nose, and a certain lustre in the balls of his -eyes, entered the room, knelt before the table, kissed the book that lay -on it, and read from it some sentences that were to precede, as I -imagined, some horrible sacrifice;--felt the edge of the knife, knelt -again, uttered some words which I did not understand, (as they were in -the language of that book), and then called aloud on some one by the -name of Manasseh-ben-Solomon. No one answered. He sighed, passed his -hand over his eyes with the air of a man who is asking pardon of himself -for a short forgetfulness, and then pronounced the name of “Antonio.” A -young man immediately entered, and answered, “Did you call me, -Father?”--But while he spoke, he threw a hollow and wandering glance on -the singular furniture of the room. - -“I called you, my son, and why did you not answer me?”--“I did not hear -you, father--I mean, I did not think it was on me you called. I heard -only a name I was never called by before. When you said ‘Antonio,’ I -obeyed you--I came.”--“But _that_ is the name by which you must in -future be called and be known, to me at least, unless you prefer -another.--You shall have your choice.”--“My father, I shall adopt -whatever name you choose.”--“No; the choice of your new name must be -your own--you must, for the future, either adopt the name you have -heard, or another.”--“What other, Sir?”--“_That of parricide._” The -youth shuddered with horror, less at the words than at the expression -that accompanied them; and, after looking at his father for some time in -a posture of tremulous and supplicating inquiry, he burst into tears. -The father seized the moment. He grasped the arms of his son, “My child, -I gave you life, and you may repay the gift--my life is in your power. -You think me a Catholic--I have brought you up as one for the -preservation of our mutual lives, in a country where the confession of -the true faith would infallibly cost both. I am one of that unhappy race -every where stigmatized and spoken against, yet on whose industry and -talent the ungrateful country that anathematizes us, depends for half -the sources of its national prosperity. I am a Jew, “an Israelite,” one -of those to whom, even by the confession of a Christian apostle, -“pertain the adoption, and the glory, and the covenants, and the giving -of the law, and the service of God, and the promises; whose are the -fathers, and of whom as concerning the flesh--” Here he paused, not -willing to go on with a quotation that would have contradicted his -sentiments. He added, “The Messias will come, whether suffering or -triumphant(2). I am a Jew. I called you at the hour of your birth by the -name of Manasseh-ben-Solomon. I called on you by that name, which I felt -had clung to the bottom of my heart from that hour, and which, echoing -from its abyss, I almost hoped you would have recognized. It was a -dream, but will you not, my beloved child, realize that dream? Will you -not?--will you not? The God of your fathers is waiting to embrace -you--and your father is at your feet, imploring you to follow the faith -of your father Abraham, the prophet Moses, and all the holy prophets who -are with God, and who look down on this moment of your soul’s -vacillation between the abominable idolatries of those who not only -adore the Son of the carpenter, but even impiously compel you to fall -down before the image of the woman his mother, and adore her by the -blasphemous name of Mother of God,--and the pure voice of those who call -on you to worship the God of your fathers, the God of ages, the eternal -God of heaven and earth, without son or mother, without child or -descendant, (as impiously presumed in their blasphemous creed), without -even worshipper, save those who, like me, sacrifice their hearts to him -in solitude, at the risk of those hearts being PIERCED BY THEIR OWN -CHILDREN.” - - (2) The Jews believe in two Messias, a suffering and a triumphant one, - to reconcile the prophecies with their own expectations. - -“At these words, the young man, overcome by all he saw and heard, and -quite unprepared for this sudden transition from Catholicism to Judaism, -burst into tears. The father seized the moment, “My child, you are now -to profess yourself the slave of these idolaters, who are cursed in the -law of Moses, and by the commandment of God,--or to enrol yourself among -the faithful, whose rest shall be in the bosom of Abraham, and who, -reposing there, shall see the unbelieving crawling over the burning -ashes of hell, and supplicate you in vain for a drop of water, according -to the legends of their own prophet. And does not such a picture excite -your pride to deny them a drop?”--“I would not deny them a drop,” sobbed -the youth, “I would give them these tears.”--“Reserve them for your -father’s grave,” added the Jew, “for to the grave you have doomed me.--I -have lived, sparing, watching, temporizing, with these accursed -idolaters, for _you_. And now--and now you reject a God who is alone -able to save, and a father kneeling to implore you to accept that -salvation.”--“No, I do not,” said the bewildered youth.--“What, then, do -you determine?--I am at your feet to know your resolution. Behold, the -mysterious instruments of your initiation are ready. There is the -uncorrupted book of Moses, the prophet of God, as these idolaters -themselves confess. There are all the preparations for the year of -expiation--determine whether those rites shall now dedicate you to the -true God, or seize your father, (who has put his life into your hands), -and drag him by the throat into the prisons of the Inquisition. You -may--you can--_will you?_” - -“In prostrate and tremulous agony, the father held up his locked hands -to his child. I seized the moment--despair had made me reckless. I -understood not a word of what was said, except the reference to the -Inquisition. I seized on that last word--I grasped, in my despair, at -the heart of father and child. I rushed from behind the curtain, and -exclaiming, “If he does not betray you to the Inquisition, _I will_.” I -fell at his feet. This mixture of defiance and prostration, my squalid -figure, my inquisitorial habit, and my bursting on this secret and -solemn interview, struck the Jew with a horror he vainly gasped to -express, till, rising from my knees, on which I had fallen from my -weakness, I added, “Yes, I will betray you to the Inquisition, unless -you instantly promise to shelter me from it.” The Jew glanced at my -dress, perceived his danger and mine, and, with a _physical_ presence of -mind unparalleled, except in a man under strong impressions of mental -excitation and personal danger, bustled about to remove every trace of -the expiatory sacrifice, and of my inquisitorial costume, in a moment. -In the same breath he called aloud for _Rebekah_, to remove the vessels -from the table; bid _Antonio_ quit the apartment, and hastened to clothe -me in some dress that he had snatched from a wardrobe collected from -centuries; while he tore off my inquisitorial dress with a violence that -left me actually naked, and the habit in rags. - -“There was something at once fearful and ludicrous in the scene that -followed. Rebekah, an old Jewish woman, came at his call; but, seeing a -third person, retreated in terror, while her master, in his confusion, -called her in vain by her _Christian_ name of Maria. Obliged to remove -the table alone, he overthrew it, and broke the leg of the unfortunate -animal fastened to it, who, not to be without his share in the tumult, -uttered the most shrill and intolerable screams, while the Jew, -snatching up the sacrificial knife, repeated eagerly, “Statim mactat -gallum,” and put the wretched bird out of its pain; then, trembling at -this open avowal of his Judaism, he sat down amid the ruins of the -overthrown table, the fragments of the broken vessels, and the remains -of the martyred cock. He gazed at me with a look of stupified and -ludicrous inanity, and demanded in delirious tones, what “my lords the -Inquisitors had pleased to visit his humble but highly-honoured mansion -for?” I was scarce less deranged than he was; and, though we both spoke -the same language, and were forced by circumstances into the same -strange and desperate confidence with each other, we really needed, for -the first half-hour, a rational interpreter of our exclamations, starts -of fear, and bursts of disclosure. At last our mutual terror acted -honestly between us, and we understood each other. The end of the matter -was, that, in less than an hour, I felt myself clad in a comfortable -garment, seated at a table amply spread, watched over by my involuntary -host, and watching him in turn with red wolfish eyes, which glanced from -his board to his person, as if I could, at a moment’s hint of danger -from _his_ treachery, have changed my meal, and feasted on his -life-blood. No such danger occurred,--my host was more afraid of me than -I had reason to be of him, and for many causes. He was a Jew _innate_, -an impostor,--a wretch, who, drawing sustenance from the bosom of our -holy mother the church, had turned her nutriment to poison, and -attempted to infuse that poison into the lips of his son. I was but a -fugitive from the Inquisition,--a prisoner, who had a kind of -instinctive and very venial dislike to giving the Inquisitors the -trouble of lighting the faggots for _me_, which would be much better -employed in consuming the adherent to the law of Moses. In fact, -impartiality considered, there was every thing in my favour, and the Jew -just acted as if he felt so,--but all this I ascribed to his terrors of -the Inquisition. - -“That night I slept,--I know not how or where. I had wild dreams before -I slept, if I did sleep; and after,--such visions,--such _things_, -passed in dread and stern reality before me. I have often in my memory -searched for the traces of the first night I passed under the roof of -the Jew, but can find nothing,--nothing except a conviction of my utter -insanity. It might not have been so,--I know not how it was. I remember -his lighting me up a narrow stair, and my asking him, was he lighting me -_down_ the steps of the dungeons of the Inquisition?--his throwing open -a door, and my asking him, was it the door of the torture-room?--his -attempting to undress me, and my exclaiming, “Do not bind me too -tight,--I know I must suffer, but be merciful;”--his throwing me on the -bed, while I shrieked, “Well, you have bound me on the rack, -then?--strain it hard, that I may forget myself the sooner; but let your -surgeon not be near to watch my pulse,--let it cease to throb, and let -me cease to suffer.” I remember no more for many days, though I have -struggled to do so, and caught from time to time glimpses of thoughts -better lost. Oh, Sir, there are some _criminals of the imagination_, -whom if we could plunge into the _oubliettes_ of its magnificent but -lightly-based fabric, its lord would reign more happy. * * * * * * * - -“Many days elapsed, indeed, before the Jew began to feel his immunity -somewhat dearly purchased, by the additional maintenance of a -troublesome, and, I fear, a deranged inmate. He took the first -opportunity that the recovery of my intellect offered, of hinting this -to me, and inquired mildly what I purposed to do, and where I meant to -go. This question for the first time opened to my view that range of -hopeless and interminable desolation that lay before me,--the -Inquisition had laid waste the whole track of life, as with fire and -sword. I had not a spot to stand on, a meal to earn, a hand to grasp, a -voice to greet, a roof to crouch under, in the whole realm of Spain. - -“You are not to learn, Sir, that the power of the Inquisition, like that -of death, separates you, by its single touch, from all mortal relations. -From the moment its grasp has seized you, all human hands unlock their -hold of yours,--you have no longer father, mother, sister, or child. The -most devoted and affectionate of all those relatives, who, in the -natural intercourse of human life, would have laid their hands under -your feet to procure you a smoother passage over its roughnesses, would -be the first to grasp the faggot that was to reduce you to ashes, if the -Inquisition were to demand the sacrifice. I knew all this; and I felt, -besides, that, had I never been a prisoner in the Inquisition, I was an -isolated being, rejected by father and mother,--the involuntary murderer -of my brother, the only being on earth who loved me, or whom I could -love or profit by,--that being who seemed to flash across my brief -_human_ existence, to illuminate and to blast. The bolt had perished -with the victim. In Spain it was impossible for me to live without -detection, unless I plunged myself into an imprisonment as profound and -hopeless as that of the Inquisition. And, if a miracle were wrought to -convey me out of Spain, ignorant as I was of the language, the habits, -and the modes of obtaining subsistence, in that or any other country, -how could I support myself even for a day. Absolute famine stared me in -the face, and a sense of degradation accompanying my consciousness of my -own utter and desolate helplessness, was the keenest shaft in the -quiver, whose contents were lodged in my heart. My consequence was -actually lessened in my own eyes, by ceasing to become the victim of -persecution, by which I had suffered so long. _While people think it -worth their while to torment us, we are never without some dignity, -though painful and imaginary._ Even in the Inquisition I belonged to -somebody,--I was watched and guarded;--now, I was the outcast of the -whole earth, and I wept with equal bitterness and depression at the -hopeless vastness of the desert I had to traverse. - -“The Jew, not at all disturbed by these feelings, went daily out for -intelligence, and returned one evening in such raptures, that I could -easily discover he had ascertained his own safety at least, if not mine. -He informed me that the current report in Madrid was, that I had -perished in the fall of the burning ruins on the night of the fire. He -added, that this report had received additional currency and strength -from the fact, that the bodies of those who had perished by the fall of -the arch, were, when discovered, so defaced by fire, and so crushed by -the massive fragments, as to be utterly undistinguishable;--their -remains had been collected, however, and mine were supposed to be among -the number. A mass had been performed for them, and _their cinders, -occupying but a single coffin_(3), were interred in the vaults of the -Dominican church, while some of the first families of Spain, in the -deepest mourning, and their faces veiled, testified their grief in -silence for those whom they would have shuddered to acknowledge their -mortal relationship to, had they been still living. Certainly a lump of -cinders was no longer an object even of religious hostility. My mother, -he added, was among the number of mourners, but with a veil so long and -thick, and attendance so few, that it would have been impossible to have -known the Duchess di Monçada, but for the whisper that her appearance -there had been enjoined for penance. He added, what gave me more perfect -satisfaction, that the holy office was very glad to accredit the story -of my death; they wished me to be believed dead, and what the -Inquisition wishes to be believed, is rarely denied belief in Madrid. -This signing my certificate of death, was to me the best security for -life. In the communicativeness of his joy, which had expanded his heart, -if not his hospitality, the Jew, as I swallowed my bread and water, (for -my stomach still loathed all animal food), informed me that there was a -procession to take place that evening, the most solemn and superb ever -witnessed in Madrid. The holy office was to appear in all the pomp and -plenitude of its glory, accompanied by the standards of St Dominic and -the cross, while all the ecclesiastical orders in Madrid were to attend -with their appropriate insignia, invested by a strong military guard, -(which, for some reason or other, was judged necessary or proper), and, -attended by the whole populace of Madrid, was to proceed to the -principal church to humiliate themselves for the recent calamity they -had undergone, and implore the saints to be more personally active in -the event of a future conflagration. - - (3) This extraordinary fact occurred after the dreadful fire which - consumed sixteen persons in one house, in Stephen’s Green, Dublin, - 1816. The writer of this heard the screams of sufferers whom it was - impossible to save, for an hour and a half. - -“The evening came on--the Jew left me; and, under an impression at once -unaccountable and irresistible, I ascended to the highest apartment in -his house, and, with a beating heart, listened for the toll of the bells -that was to announce the commencement of the ceremony. I had not long to -wait. At the close of twilight, every steeple in the city was vibrating -with the tolls of their well-plied bells. I was in an upper room of the -house. There was but one window; but, hiding myself behind the blind, -which I withdrew from time to time, I had a full view of the spectacle. -The house of the Jew looked out on an open space, through which the -procession was to pass, and which was already so filled, that I wondered -how the procession could ever make its way through such a wedged and -impenetrable mass. At last, I could distinguish a motion like that of a -distant power, giving a kind of indefinite impulse to the vast body that -rolled and blackened beneath me, like the ocean under the first and -far-felt agitations of the storm. - -“The crowd rocked and reeled, but did not seem to give way an inch. The -procession commenced. I could see it approach, marked as it was by the -crucifix, banner, and taper--(for they had reserved the procession till -a late hour, to give it the imposing effect of torch-light.) And I saw -the multitude at a vast distance give way at once. Then came on the -stream of the procession, rushing, like a magnificent river, between two -banks of human bodies, who kept as regular and strict distance, as if -they had been ramparts of stone,--the banners, and crucifixes, and -tapers, appearing like the crests of foam on advancing billows, -sometimes rising, sometimes sinking. At last they came on, and the whole -grandeur of the procession burst on my view, and nothing was ever more -imposing, or more magnificent. The habits of the ecclesiastics, the -glare of the torches struggling with the dying twilight, and seeming to -say to heaven, We have a sun though yours is set;--the solemn and -resolute look of the whole party, who trod as if their march were on the -bodies of kings, and looked as if they would have said, What is the -sceptre to the cross?--the black crucifix itself, trembling in the rear, -attended by the banner of St Dominick, with its awful inscription.--It -was a sight to convert all hearts, and I exulted I was a Catholic. -Suddenly a tumult seemed to arise among the crowd--I knew not from what -it could arise--all seemed so pleased and so elated. - -“I drew away the blind, and saw, by torch-light, among a crowd of -officials who clustered round the standard of St Dominick, the figure of -my companion. His story was well known. At first a faint hiss was heard, -then a wild and smothered howl. Then I heard voices among the crowd -repeat, in audible sounds, “What is this for? Why do they ask why the -Inquisition has been half-burned?--why the virgin has withdrawn her -protection?--why the saints turn away their faces from us?--when a -parricide marches among the officials of the Inquisition. Are the hands -that have cut a father’s throat fit to support the banner of the cross?” -These were the words but of a few at first, but the whisper spread -rapidly among the crowd; and fierce looks were darted, and hands were -clenched and raised, and some stooped to the earth for stones. The -procession went on, however, and every one knelt to the crucifixes as -they advanced, held aloft by the priests. But the murmurs increased too, -and the words, “parricide, profanation, and victim,” resounded on every -side, even from those who knelt in the mire as the cross passed by. The -murmur increased--it could no longer be mistaken for that of adoration. -The foremost priests paused in terror ill concealed--and this seemed the -signal for the terrible scene that was about to follow. An officer -belonging to the guard at this time ventured to intimate to the chief -Inquisitor the danger that might be apprehended, but was dismissed with -the short and sullen answer, “Move on--the servants of Christ have -nothing to fear.” The procession attempted to proceed, but their -progress was obstructed by the multitude, who now seemed bent on some -deadly purpose. A few stones were thrown; but the moment the priests -raised their crucifixes, the multitude were on their knees again, still, -however, holding the stones in their hands. The military officers again -addressed the chief Inquisitor, and intreated his permission to disperse -the crowd. They received the same dull and stern answer, “The cross is -sufficient for the protection of its servants--whatever fears you may -feel, I feel none.” Incensed at the reply, a young officer sprung on his -horse, which he had quitted from respect while addressing the Suprema, -and was in a moment levelled by the blow of a stone that fractured his -skull. He turned his blood-swimming eyes on the Inquisitor, and died. -The multitude raised a wild shout, and pressed closer. Their intentions -were now too plain. They pressed close on that part of the procession -among which their victim was placed. Again, and in the most urgent -terms, the officers implored leave to disperse the crowd, or at least -cover the retreat of the obnoxious object to some neighbouring church, -or even to the walls of the Inquisition. And the wretched man himself, -with loud outcries, (as he saw the danger thickening around him), joined -in their petition. The Suprema, though looking pale, bated not a jot of -his pride. “These are my arms!” he exclaimed, pointing to the crucifixes, -“and their inscription is εν-τουτω-νικα. I forbid a sword to be drawn, -or a musket to be levelled. On, in the name of God.” And on they -attempted to move, but the pressure now rendered it impossible. The -multitude, unrepressed by the military, became ungovernable; the crosses -reeled and rocked like standards in a battle; the ecclesiastics, in -confusion and terror, pressed on each other. Amid that vast mass, every -particle of which seemed in motion, there was but one emphatic and -discriminate movement--that which bore a certain part of the crowd -strait on to the spot where their victim, though inclosed and inwrapt by -all that is formidable in earthly, and all that is awful in spiritual -power--sheltered by the crucifix and the sword--stood trembling to the -bottom of his soul. The Suprema saw his error too late, and now called -loudly on the military to advance, and disperse the crowd by any means. -They attempted to obey him; but by this time they were mingled among the -crowd themselves. All order had ceased; and besides, there appeared a -kind of indisposition to this service, from the very first, among the -military. They attempted to charge, however; but, entangled as they were -among the crowd, who clung round their horses hoofs, it was impossible -for them even to form, and the first shower of stones threw them into -total confusion. The danger increased every moment, for one spirit now -seemed to animate the whole multitude. What had been the stifled growl -of a few, was now the audible yell of all--“Give him to us--we must have -him;” and they tossed and roared like a thousand waves assailing a -wreck. As the military retreated, a hundred priests instantly closed -round the unhappy man, and with generous despair exposed themselves to -the fury of the multitude. While the Suprema, hastening to the dreadful -spot, stood in the front of the priests, with the cross uplifted,--his -face was like that of the dead, but his eye had not lost a single flash -of its fire, nor his voice a tone of its pride. It was in vain; the -multitude proceeded calmly, and even respectfully, (when not resisted), -to remove all that obstructed their progress; in doing so, they took -every care of the persons of priests whom they were compelled to remove, -repeatedly asking their pardon for the violence they were guilty of. And -this tranquillity of resolved vengeance was the most direful indication -of its never desisting till its purpose was accomplished. The last ring -was broken--the last resister overcome. Amid yells like those of a -thousand tigers, the victim was seized and dragged forth, grasping in -both hands fragments of the robes of those he had clung to in vain, and -holding them up in the impotence of despair. - -“The cry was hushed for a moment, as they felt him in their talons, and -gazed on him with thirsty eyes. Then it was renewed, and the work of -blood began. They dashed him to the earth--tore him up again--flung him -into the air--tossed him from hand to hand, as a bull gores the howling -mastiff with horns right and left. Bloody, defaced, blackened with -earth, and battered with stones, he struggled and roared among them, -till a loud cry announced the hope of a termination to a scene alike -horrible to humanity, and disgraceful to civilization. The military, -strongly reinforced, came galloping on, and all the ecclesiastics, with -torn habits, and broken crucifixes, following fast in the rear,--all -eager in the cause of human nature--all on fire to prevent this base and -barbarous disgrace to the name of Christianity and of human nature. - -“Alas! this interference only hastened the horrible catastrophe. There -was but a shorter space for the multitude to work their furious will. I -saw, I felt, but I cannot describe, the last moments of this horrible -scene. Dragged from the mud and stones, they dashed a mangled lump of -flesh right against the door of the house where I was. With his tongue -hanging from his lacerated mouth, like that of a baited bull; with one -eye torn from the socket, and dangling on his bloody cheek; with a -fracture in every limb, and a wound for every pore, he still howled for -“life--life--life--mercy!” till a stone, aimed by some pitying hand, -struck him down. He fell, trodden in one moment into sanguine and -discoloured mud by a thousand feet. The cavalry came on, charging with -fury. The crowd, saturated with cruelty and blood, gave way in grim -silence. But they had not left a joint of his little finger--a hair of -his head--a slip of his skin. Had Spain mortgaged all her reliques from -Madrid to Monserrat, from the Pyrennees to Gibraltar, she could not have -recovered the paring of a nail to canonize. The officer who headed the -troop dashed his horse’s hoofs into a bloody formless mass, and -demanded, “Where was the victim?” He was answered, “Beneath your horse’s -feet(4);” and they departed. * * * * * * * * * - - (4) This circumstance occurred in Ireland 1797, after the murder of - the unfortunate Dr Hamilton. The officer was answered, on inquiring - what was that heap of mud at his horse’s feet,--“The man you came - for.” - -“It is a fact, Sir, that while witnessing this horrible execution, I -felt all the effects vulgarly ascribed to fascination. I shuddered at -the first movement--the dull and deep whisper among the crowd. I -shrieked involuntarily when the first decisive movements began among -them; but when at last the human shapeless carrion was dashed against -the door, I echoed the wild shouts of the multitude with a kind of -savage instinct. I bounded--I clasped my hands for a moment--then I -echoed the screams of the thing that seemed no longer to live, but still -could scream; and I screamed aloud and wildly for life--life--and mercy! -One face was turned towards me as I shrieked in unconscious tones. The -glance, fixed on me for a moment, was in a moment withdrawn. The flash -of the well-known eyes made no impression on me then. My existence was -so purely mechanical, that, without the least consciousness of my own -danger, (scarce less than that of the victim, had I been detected), I -remained uttering shout for shout, and scream for scream--offering -worlds in imagination to be able to remove from the window, yet feeling -as if every shriek I uttered was as a nail that fastened me to -it--dropping my eye-lids, and feeling as if a hand held them open, or -cut them away--forcing me to gaze on all that passed below, like -Regulus, with his lids cut off, compelled to gaze on the sun that -withered up his eye-balls--till sense, and sight, and soul, failed me, -and I fell grasping by the bars of the window, and mimicking, in my -horrid trance, the shouts of the multitude, and the yell of the -devoted(5). I actually for a moment believed myself the object of their -cruelty. The drama of terror has the irresistible power of converting -its audience into its victims. - - (5) In the year 1803, when Emmett’s insurrection broke out in - Dublin--(_the fact_ from which this account is drawn was related to me - by an eye-witness)--Lord Kilwarden, in passing through Thomas Street, - was dragged from his carriage, and murdered in the most horrid manner. - Pike after pike was thrust through his body, till at last he was - _nailed to a door_, and called out to his murderers to “put him out of - his pain.” At this moment, a shoemaker, who lodged in the garret of an - opposite house, was drawn to the window by the horrible cries he - heard. He stood at the window, gasping with horror, his wife - attempting vainly to drag him away. He saw the last blow struck--he - heard the last groan uttered, as the sufferer cried, “put me out of - pain,” while sixty pikes were thrusting at him. The man stood at his - window as if nailed to it; and when dragged from it, became--an _idiot - for life_. - -“The Jew had kept apart from the tumult of the night. He had, I suppose, -been saying within himself, in the language of your admirable poet, - - “Oh, Father Abraham, what these Christians are!” - -But when he returned at a late hour, he was struck with horror at the -state in which he found me. I was delirious,--raving, and all he could -say or do to soothe me, was in vain. My imagination had been fearfully -impressed, and the consternation of the poor Jew was, I have been told, -equally ludicrous and dismal. In his terror, he forgot all the technical -formality of the Christian names by which he had uniformly signalized -his household, since his residence in Madrid at least. He called aloud -on Manasseh-ben-Solomon his son, and Rebekah his maid, to assist in -holding me. “Oh, Father Abraham, my ruin is certain, this maniac will -discover all, and Manasseh-ben-Solomon, my son, will die uncircumcised.” - -“These words operating on my delirium, I started up, and, grasping the -Jew by the throat, arraigned him as a prisoner of the Inquisition. The -terrified wretch, falling on his knees, vociferated, “My cock,--my -cock,--my cock! oh! I am undone!” Then, grasping my knees, “I am no -Jew,--my son, Manasseh-ben-Solomon, is a Christian; you will not betray -him, you will not betray _me_,--me who have saved your life. -Manasseh,--I mean Antonio,--Rebekah,--no, Maria, help me to hold him. Oh -God of Abraham, my cock, and my sacrifice of expiation, and this maniac -to burst on the recesses of our privacy, to tear open the veil of the -tabernacle!”--“Shut the tabernacle,” said Rebekah, the old domestic whom -I have before mentioned; “yea, shut the tabernacle, and close up the -veils thereof, for behold there be men knocking at the door,--men who -are children of Belial, and they knock with staff and stone; and, -verily, they are about to break in the door, and demolish the carved -work thereof with axes and hammers.”--“Thou liest,” said the Jew, in -much perturbation: “there is no carved work thereabout, nor dare they -break it down with axes and hammers; peradventure it is but an assault -of the children of Belial, in their rioting and drunkenness. I pray -thee, Rebekah, to watch the door, and keep off the sons of Belial, even -the sons of the mighty of the sinful city--the city of Madrid, while I -remove this blaspheming carrion, who struggleth with me,--yea, -struggleth mightily,” (and struggle I did mightily). But, as I -struggled, the knocks at the door became louder and stronger; and, as I -was carried off, the Jew continued to repeat, “Set thy face against -them, Rebekah; yea, set thy face like a flint.” As he retired, Rebekah -exclaimed, “Behold I have set my back against them, for my face now -availeth not. My back is that which I will oppose, and verily I shall -prevail.”--“I pray thee, Rebekah,” cried the Jew, “oppose thy FACE unto -them, and verily that shall prevail. Try not the adversary with thy -back, but oppose thy face unto them; and behold, if they are men, they -shall flee, even though they were a thousand, at the rebuke of one. I -pray thee try thy face once more, Rebekah, while I send this scape-goat -into the wilderness. Surely thy face is enough to drive away those who -knocked by night at the door of that house in Gibeah, in the matter of -the wife of the Benjamite.” The knocking all this time increased. -“Behold my back is broken,” cried Rebekah, giving up her watch and ward, -“for, of a verity, the weapons of the mighty do smite the lintels and -door-posts; and mine arms are not steel, neither are my ribs iron, and -behold I fail,--yea, I fail, and fall backwards into the hands of the -uncircumcised.” And so saying, she fell backwards as the door gave way, -and fell not, as she feared, into the hands of the uncircumcised, but -into those of two of her countrymen, who, it appeared, had some -extraordinary reason for this late visit and forcible entrance. - -“The Jew, apprized who they were, quitted me, after securing the door, -and sat up the greater part of the night, in earnest conversation with -his visitors. Whatever was their subject, it left traces of the most -intense anxiety on the countenance of the Jew the next morning. He went -out early, did not return till a late hour, and then hastened to the -room I occupied, and expressed the utmost delight at finding me sane and -composed. Candles were placed on the table, Rebekah dismissed, the door -secured, and the Jew, after taking many uneasy turns about the narrow -apartment, and often clearing his throat, at length sat down, and -ventured to entrust me with the cause of his perturbation, in which, -with the fatal consciousness of the unhappy, I already began to feel _I_ -must have a share. He told me, that though the report of my death, so -universally credited through Madrid, had at first set his mind at ease, -there was now a wild story, which, with all its falsehood and -impossibility, might, in its circulation, menace us with the most -fearful consequences. He asked me, was it possible I could have been so -imprudent as to expose myself to view on the day of that horrible -execution? and when I confessed that I had stood at a window, and had -involuntarily uttered cries that I feared might have reached some ears, -he wrung his hands, and a sweat of consternation burst out on his pallid -features. When he recovered himself, he told me it was universally -believed that my spectre had appeared on that terrible occasion,--that I -had been seen hovering in the air, to witness the sufferings of the -dying wretch,--and that my voice had been heard summoning him to his -eternal doom. He added, that this story, possessing all the credibility -of superstition, was now repeated by a thousand mouths; and whatever -contempt might be attached to its absurdity, it would infallibly operate -as a hint to the restless vigilance, and unrelaxing industry of the holy -office, and might ultimately lead to my discovery. He therefore was -about to disclose to me a secret, the knowledge of which would enable me -to remain in perfect security even in the centre of Madrid, until some -means might be devised of effecting my escape, and procuring me the -means of subsistence in some Protestant country, beyond the reach of the -Inquisition. - -“As he was about to disclose this secret on which the safety of both -depended, and which I bent in speechless agony to hear, a knock was -heard at the door, very unlike the knocks of the preceding night. It was -single, solemn, peremptory,--and followed by a demand to open the doors -of the house in the name of the most holy Inquisition. At these terrible -words, the wretched Jew flung himself on his knees, blew out the -candles, called on the names of the twelve patriarchs, and slipped a -large rosary on his arm, in less time than it is possible to conceive -any human frame could go through such a variety of movements. The knock -was repeated,--I stood paralyzed; but the Jew, springing on his feet, -raised one of the boards of the floor in a moment, and, with a motion -between convulsion and instinct, pointed to me to descend. I did so, and -found myself in a moment in darkness and in safety. - -“I had descended but a few steps, on the last of which I stood -trembling, when the officers of the Inquisition entered the room, and -stalked over the very board that concealed me. I could hear every word -that passed. “Don Fernan,” said an officer to the Jew, who re-entered -with them, after respectfully opening the door, “why were we not -admitted sooner?”--“Holy Father,” said the trembling Jew, “my only -domestic, Maria, is old and deaf, the youth my son is in his bed, and I -was myself engaged in my devotions.”--“It seems you can perform them in -the dark,” said another, pointing to the candles, which the Jew was -re-lighting.--“When the eye of God is on me, most reverend fathers, I am -never in darkness.”--“The eye of God _is_ on you,” said the officer, -sternly seating himself; “and so is another eye, to which he has deputed -the sleepless vigilance and resistless penetration of his own,--the eye -of the holy office. Don Fernan di Nunez,” the name by which the Jew -went, “you are not ignorant of the indulgence extended by the church, to -those who have renounced the errors of that accursed and misbelieving -race from which you are descended, but you must be also aware of its -incessant vigilance being directed towards such individuals, from the -suspicion necessarily attached to their doubtful conversion, and -possible relapse. We know that the black blood of Grenada flowed in the -tainted veins of your ancestry, and that not more than four centuries -have elapsed, since your forefathers trampled on that cross before which -you are now prostrate. You are an old man, Don Fernan, but not an _old -Christian_; and, under these circumstances, it behoves the holy office -to have a watchful scrutiny over your conduct.” - -“The unfortunate Jew, invoking all the saints, protested he would feel -the strictest scrutiny with which the holy office might honour him, as a -ground of obligation and a matter of thanksgiving,--renouncing at the -same time the creed of his race in terms of such exaggeration and -vehemence, as made me tremble for his probable sincerity in any creed, -and his fidelity to me. The officers of the Inquisition, taking little -notice of his protestations, went on to inform him of the object of -their visit. They stated that a wild and incredible tale of the spectre -of a deceased prisoner of the Inquisition having been seen hovering in -the air near his house, had suggested to the wisdom of the holy office, -that the living individual might be concealed within its walls. - -“I could not see the trepidation of the Jew, but I could feel the -vibration of the boards on which he stood communicated to the steps that -supported me. In a choaked and tremulous voice, he implored the officers -to search every apartment of his house, and to raze it to the ground, -and inter him under its dust, if aught were found in it which a faithful -and orthodox son of the church might not harbour. “That shall doubtless -be done,” said the officer, taking him at his word with the utmost _sang -froid_; “but, in the mean time, suffer me to apprize you, Don Fernan, of -the peril you incur, if at any future time, however remote, it shall be -discovered that you harboured or aided in concealing a prisoner of the -Inquisition, and an enemy of the holy church,--the very first and -lightest part of that penalty will be your dwelling being razed to the -ground.” The Inquisitor raised his voice, and paused with emphatic -deliberation between every clause of the following sentences, measuring -as it were the effect of his blows on the increasing terror of his -auditor. “You will be conveyed to our prison, under the suspected -character of a relapsed Jew. Your son will be committed to a convent, to -remove him from the pestilential influence of your presence;--and your -whole property shall be confiscated, to the last stone in your walls, -the last garment on your person, and the last denier in your purse.” - -“The poor Jew, who had marked the gradations of his fear by groans more -audible and prolonged at the end of every tremendous denunciatory -clause, at the mention of confiscation so total and desolating, lost all -self-possession, and, ejaculating--“Oh Father Abraham, and all the holy -prophets!”--fell, as I conjectured from the sound, prostrate on the -floor. I gave myself up for lost. Exclusive of his pusillanimity, the -words he had uttered were enough to betray him to the officers of the -Inquisition; and, without a moment’s hesitation between the danger of -falling into their hands, and plunging into the darkness of the recess -into which I had descended, I staggered down a few remaining steps, and -attempted to feel my way along a passage, in which they seemed to -terminate. - - - - -CHAPTER XIII. - - There sat a spirit in the vault, - In shape, in hue, in lineaments, like life. - - SOUTHEY’S THALABA. - - -“I am convinced, that, had the passage been as long and intricate as any -that ever an antiquarian pursued to discover the tomb of Cheops in the -Pyramids, I would have rushed on in the blindness of my desperation, -till famine or exhaustion had compelled me to pause. But I had no such -peril to encounter,--the floor of the passage was smooth, and the walls -were matted, and though I proceeded in darkness, I proceeded in safety; -and provided my progress removed me far enough from the pursuit or -discovery of the Inquisition, I scarcely cared how it might terminate. - -“Amid this temporary magnanimity of despair, this state of mind which -unites the extremes of courage and pusillanimity, I saw a faint light. -Faint it was, but it was distinct,--I saw clearly it was light. Great -God! what a revulsion in my blood and heart, in all my physical and -mental feelings, did this sun of my world of darkness create! I venture -to say, that my speed in approaching it was in the proportion of one -hundred steps to one, compared to my crawling progress in the preceding -darkness. As I approached, I could discover that the light gleamed -through the broad crevices of a door, which, disjointed by subterranean -damps, gave me as full a view of the apartment within, as if it were -opened to me by the inmate. Through one of these crevices, before which -I knelt in a mixture of exhaustion and curiosity, I could reconnoitre -the whole of the interior. - -“It was a large apartment, hung with dark-coloured baize within four -feet of the floor, and this intermediate part was thickly matted, -probably to intercept the subterranean damps. In the centre of the room -stood a table covered with black cloth; it supported an iron lamp of an -antique and singular form, by whose light I had been directed, and was -now enabled to descry furniture that appeared sufficiently -extraordinary. There were, amid maps and globes, several instruments, of -which my ignorance did not permit me then to know the use,--some, I have -since learned, were anatomical; there was an electrifying machine, and a -curious _model of a rack_ in ivory; there were few books, but several -scrolls of parchment, inscribed with large characters in red and -ochre-coloured ink; and around the room were placed _four_ skeletons, -not in cases, but in a kind of upright coffin, that gave their bony -emptiness a kind of ghastly and imperative prominence, as if they were -the real and rightful tenants of that singular apartment. Interspersed -between them were the stuffed figures of animals I knew not then the -names of,--an alligator,--some gigantic bones, which I took for those of -Sampson, but which turned out to be fragments of those of the -Mammoth,--and antlers, which in my terror I believed to be those of the -devil, but afterwards learned to be those of an Elk. Then I saw figures -smaller, but not less horrible,--human and brute abortions, in all their -states of anomalous and deformed construction, not preserved in spirits, -but standing in the ghastly nakedness of their white diminutive bones; -these I conceived to be the attendant imps of some infernal ceremony, -which the grand wizard, who now burst on my sight, was to preside over. - -“At the end of the table sat an old man, wrapped in a long robe; his -head was covered with a black velvet cap, with a broad border of furs, -his spectacles were of such a size as almost to hide his face, and he -turned over some scrolls of parchment with an anxious and trembling -hand; then seizing a scull that lay on the table, and grasping it in -fingers hardly less bony, and not less yellow, seemed to apostrophize it -in the most earnest manner. All my personal fears were lost in the -thought of my being the involuntary witness of some infernal orgie. I -was still kneeling at the door, when my long suspended respiration burst -forth in a groan, which reached the figure seated at the table in a -moment. Habitual vigilance supplied all the defects of age on the part -of the listener. It was but the sensation of a moment to feel the door -thrown open, my arm seized by an arm powerful though withered by age, -and myself, as I thought, in the talons of a demon. - -“The door was closed and bolted. An awful figure stood over me, (for I -had fallen on the floor), and thundered out, “Who art thou, and why art -thou here?” I knew not what to answer, and gazed with a fixed and -speechless look on the skeletons and the other furniture of this -terrible vault. “Hold,” said the voice, “if thou art indeed exhausted, -and needest refreshment, drink of this cup, and thou shalt be refreshed -as with wine; verily, it shall come into thy bowels as water, and as oil -into thy bones,”--and as he spoke he offered to me a cup with some -liquid in it. I repelled him and his drink, which I had not a doubt was -some magical drug, with horror unutterable; and losing all other fears -in the overwhelming one of becoming a slave of Satan, and a victim of -one of his agents, as I believed this extraordinary figure, I called on -the name of the Saviour and the saints, and, crossing myself at every -sentence, exclaimed, “No, tempter, keep your infernal potions for the -leprous lips of your imps, or swallow them yourself. I have but this -moment escaped from the hands of the Inquisition, and a million times -rather would I return and yield myself their victim, than consent to -become yours,--your tender-mercies are the only cruelties I dread. Even -in the prison of the holy office, where the faggots appeared to be lit -before my eyes, and the chain already fastened round my body to bind it -to the stake, I was sustained by a power that enabled me to embrace -objects so terrible to nature, sooner than escape them at the price of -my salvation. The choice was offered me, and I made my election,--and so -would I do were it to be offered a thousand times, though the last were -at the stake, and the fire already kindling.” - -Here the Spaniard paused in some agitation. In the enthusiasm of his -narration, he had in some degree disclosed that secret which he had -declared was incommunicable, except in confessing to a priest. Melmoth, -who, from the narrative of Stanton, had been prepared to suspect -something of this, did not think prudent to press him for a farther -disclosure, and waited in silence till his emotion had subsided, without -remark or question. Monçada at length resumed his narrative. - -“While I was speaking, the old man viewed me with a look of calm -surprise, that made me ashamed of my fears, even before I had ceased to -utter them. “What!” said he at length, fixing apparently on some -expressions that struck him, “art thou escaped from the arm that dealeth -its blow in darkness, even the arm of the Inquisition? Art thou that -Nazarene youth who sought refuge in the house of our brother Solomon, -the son of Hilkiah, who is called Fernan Nunez by the idolaters in this -land of his captivity? Verily I trusted thou shouldst this night have -eat of my bread, and drank of my cup, and been unto me as a scribe, for -our brother Solomon testified concerning thee, saying, His pen is even -as the pen of a ready writer.” - -“I gazed at him in astonishment. Some vague recollections of Solomon’s -being about to disclose some safe and secret retreat wandered over my -mind; and, while trembling at the singular apartment in which we were -seated, and the employment in which he seemed engaged, I yet felt a hope -hover about my heart, which his knowledge of my situation appeared to -justify. “Sit down,” said he, observing with compassion that I was -sinking alike under the exhaustion of fatigue and the distraction of -terror; “sit down, and eat a morsel of bread, and drink a cup of wine, -and comfort thine heart, for thou seemest to be as one who hath escaped -from the snare of the fowler, and from the dart of the hunter.” I obeyed -him involuntarily. I needed the refreshment he offered, and was about to -partake of it, when an irresistible feeling of repugnance and horror -overcame me; and, as I thrust away the food he offered me, I pointed to -the objects around me as the cause of my reluctance. He looked round for -a moment, as doubting whether objects so familiar to him, could be -repulsive to a stranger, and then shaking his head, “Thou art a fool,” -said he, “but thou art a Nazarene, and I pity thee; verily, those who -had the teaching of thy youth, not only have shut the book of knowledge -to thee, but have forgot to open it for themselves. Were not thy -masters, the Jesuits, masters also of the healing art, and art thou not -acquainted with the sight of its ordinary implements? Eat, I pray thee, -and be satisfied that none of these will hurt thee. Yonder dead bones -cannot weigh out or withhold thy food; nor can they bind thy joints, or -strain them with iron, or rend them with steel, as would the living arms -that were stretched forth to seize thee as their prey. And, as the Lord -of hosts liveth, their prey wouldst thou have been, and a prey unto -their iron and steel, were it not for the shelter of the roof of -Adonijah to-night.” - -“I took some of the food he offered me, crossing myself at every -mouthful, and drank the wine, which the feverish thirst of terror and -anxiety made me swallow like water, but not without an internal prayer -that it might not be converted into some deleterious and diabolical -poison. The Jew Adonijah observed me with increasing compassion and -contempt.--“What,” said he, “appals thee? Were I possessed of the powers -the superstition of thy sect ascribes to me, might I not make thee a -banquet for fiends, instead of offering thee food? Might I not bring -from the caverns of the earth the voices of those that “peep and -mutter,” instead of speaking unto thee with the voice of man? Thou art -in my power, yet have I no power or will to hurt thee. And dost thou, -who art escaped from the dungeons of the Inquisition, look as one that -feareth on the things that thou seest around thee, the furniture of the -cell of a secluded leach? Within this apartment I have passed the term -of sixty years, and dost thou shudder to visit it for a moment? These be -the skeletons of bodies, but in the den thou hast escaped from were the -skeletons of perished souls. Here are relics of the wrecks or the -caprices of nature, but thou art come from where the cruelty of man, -permanent and persevering, unrelenting and unmitigated, hath never -failed to leave the proofs of its power in abortive intellects, crippled -frames, distorted creeds, and ossified hearts. Moreover, there are -around thee parchments and charts scrawled as it were with the blood of -man, but, were it even so, could a thousand such volumes cause such -terror to the human eye, as a page of the history of thy prison, written -as it is in blood, drawn, not from the frozen veins of the dead, but -from the bursting hearts of the living. Eat, Nazarene, there is no -poison in thy food,--drink, there is no drug in thy cup. Darest thou -promise thyself that in the prison of the Inquisition, or even in the -cells of the Jesuits? Eat and drink without fear in the vault, even in -the vault of Adonijah the Jew. If thou daredst to have done so in the -dwellings of the Nazarenes, I had never beheld thee here. Hast thou -fed?” he added, and I bowed. “Hast thou drank of the cup I gave thee?” -my torturing thirst returned, and I gave him back the cup. He smiled, -but the smile of age,--the smile of lips over which more than an hundred -years have passed, has an expression more repulsive and hideous than can -be deemed; it is never the smile of pleasure,--it is a _frown of the -mouth_, and I shrunk before its grim wrinkles, as the Jew Adonijah -added, “If thou hast eat and drank, it is time for thee to rest. Come to -thy bed, it may be harder than they have given thee in thy prison, but -behold it shall be safer. Come and rest thee there, it may be that the -adversary and the enemy shall not there find thee out.” - -“I followed him through passages so devious and intricate, that, -bewildered as I was with the events of the night, they forced on my -memory the well-known fact, that in Madrid the Jews have subterranean -passages to each other’s habitations, which have hitherto baffled all -the industry of the Inquisition. I slept that night, or rather day, (for -the sun had risen), on a pallet laid on the floor of a room, small, -lofty, and matted half-way up the walls. One narrow and grated window -admitted the light of the sun, that arose after that eventful night; and -amid the sweet sound of bells, and the still sweeter of human life, -awake and in motion around me, I sunk into a slumber that was unbroken -even by a dream, till the day was closing; or, in the language of -Adonijah, “till the shadows of the evening were upon the face of all the -earth.” - - - - -CHAPTER XIV. - - Unde iratos deos timent, qui sic propitios merentur? - - SENECA. - - -“When I awoke, he was standing by my pallet. “Arise,” said he, “eat and -drink, that thy strength may return unto thee.” He pointed to a small -table as he spoke, which was covered with food of the plainest kind, and -dressed with the utmost simplicity. Yet he seemed to think an apology -was necessary for the indulgence of this temperate fare. “I myself,” -said he, “eat not the flesh of any animal, save on the new moons and the -feasts, yet the days of the years of my life have been one hundred and -seven; sixty of which have been passed in the chamber where thou sawest -me. Rarely do I ascend to the upper chamber of this house, save on -occasions like this, or peradventure to pray, with my window open -towards the east, for the turning away wrath from Jacob, and the turning -again the captivity of Zion. Well saith the ethnic leach, - - “Aer exclusus confert ad longevitatem.” - -“Such hath been my life, as I tell thee. The light of heaven hath been -hidden from mine eyes, and the voice of man is as the voice of a -stranger in mine ears, save those of some of mine own nation, who weep -for the affliction of Israel; yet the silver cord is not loosed, nor the -golden bowl broken; and though mine eye be waxing dim, my natural force -is not abated.” (As he spoke, my eyes hung in reverence on the hoary -majesty of his patriarchal figure, and I felt as if I beheld an embodied -representation of the old law in all its stern simplicity--the unbending -grandeur, and primeval antiquity.) “Hast thou eaten, and art full? -Arise, then, and follow me.” - -“We descended to the vault, where I found the lamp was always burning. -And Adonijah, pointing to the parchments that lay on the table, said, -“This is the matter wherein I need thy help; the collection and -transcription whereof hath been the labour of more than half a life, -prolonged beyond the bounds allotted to mortality; but,” pointing to his -sunk and blood-shot eyes, “those that look out of the windows begin to -be darkened, and I feel that I need help from the quick hand and clear -eye of youth. Wherefore, it being certified unto me by our brother, that -thou wert a youth who couldst handle the pen of a scribe, and, moreover, -wast in need of a city of refuge, and a strong wall of defence, against -the laying-in-wait of thy brethren round about thee, I was willing that -thou shouldst come under my roof, and eat of such things as I set before -thee, and such as thy soul desireth, excepting only the abominable -things forbidden in the law of the prophet; and shouldst, moreover, -receive wages as an hired servant.” - -“You will perhaps smile, Sir; but even in my wretched situation, I felt -a slight but painful flush tinge my cheek, at the thought of a -Christian, and a peer of Spain, becoming the amanuensis of a Jew for -hire. Adonijah continued, “Then, when my task is completed, then will I -be gathered to my fathers, trusting surely in the Hope of Israel, that -mine eyes shall “behold the King in his beauty,--they shall see the land -that is very far off.” And peradventure,” he added, in a voice that -grief rendered solemn, mellow, and tremulous, “peradventure there shall -I meet in bliss, those with whom I parted in woe--even thou, Zachariah, -the son of my loins, and thou, Leah, the wife of my bosom;” -apostrophizing two of the silent skeletons that stood near. “And in the -presence of the God of our fathers, the redeemed of Zion shall meet--and -meet as those who are to part no more for ever and ever.” At these -words, he closed his eyes, lifted up his hands, and appeared to be -absorbed in mental prayer. Grief had perhaps subdued my prejudices--it -had certainly softened my heart--and at this moment I half-believed that -a Jew might find entrance and adoption amid the family and fold of the -blessed. This sentiment operated on my human sympathies, and I inquired, -with unfeigned anxiety, after the fate of Solomon the Jew, whose -misfortune in harbouring me had exposed him to the visit of the -Inquisitors. “Be at peace,” said Adonijah, waving his bony and wrinkled -hand, as if dismissing a subject below his present feelings, “our -brother Solomon is in no peril of death; neither shall his goods be -taken for a spoil. If our adversaries are mighty in power, so are we -mighty also to deal with them by our wealth or our wisdom. Thy flight -they never can trace, thy existence on the face of the earth shall also -be unknown to them, so thou wilt hearken to me, and heed my words.” - -“I could not speak, but my expression of mute and imploring anxiety -spoke for me. “Thou didst use words,” said Adonijah, “last night, -whereof, though I remember not all the purport, the sound yet maketh -mine ears to tingle; even mine, which have not vibrated to such sounds -for four times the space of thy youthful years. Thou saidst thou wert -beset by a power that tempted thee to renounce the Most High, whom Jew -and Christian alike profess to worship; and that thou didst declare, -that were the fires kindled around thee, thou wouldst spit at the -tempter, and trample on the offer, though thy foot pressed the coal -which the sons of Dominick were lighting beneath its naked sole.”--“I -did,” I cried, “I did--and I would--So help me God in mine extremity.” - -“Adonijah paused for a moment, as if considering whether this were a -burst of passion, or a proof of mental energy. He seemed at last -inclined to believe it the latter, though all men of far-advanced age -are apt to distrust any marks of emotion as a demonstration rather of -weakness than of sincerity. “Then,” said he, after a long and solemn -pause, “then thou shalt know the secret that hath been a burthen to the -soul of Adonijah, even as his hopeless solitude is a burthen to the soul -of him who traverseth the desert, none accompanying him with step, or -cheering him with voice. From my youth upward, even until now, have I -laboured, and behold the time of my deliverance is at hand; yea, and -shall be accomplished speedily. - -“In the days of my childhood, a rumour reached mine ears, even mine, of -a being sent abroad on the earth to tempt Jew and Nazarene, and even the -disciples of Mohammed, whose name is accursed in the mouth of our -nation, with offers of deliverance at their utmost need and extremity, -so they would do that which my lips dare not utter, even though there be -no ear to receive it but thine. Thou shudderest--well, then, thou art -sincere, at least, in thy faith of errors. I listened to the tale, and -mine ears received it, even as the soul of the thirsty drinketh in -rivers of water, for my mind was full of the vain fantasies of the -Gentile fables, and I longed, in the perverseness of my spirit, to see, -yea, and to consort with, yea, and to deal with, the evil one in his -strength. Like our fathers in the wilderness, I despised angel’s food, -and lusted after forbidden meats, even the meats of the Egyptian -sorcerers. And my presumption was rebuked as thou seest:--childless, -wifeless, friendless, at the last period of an existence prolonged -beyond the bounds of nature, am I now left, and, save thee alone, -without one to record its events. I will not trouble thee now with the -tale of my eventful life, farther than to tell thee, that the skeletons -thou tremblest to behold, were once clothed in flesh far fairer than -thine. They are those of my wife and child, whose history thou must not -now hear--but those of the two others thou must both hear and relate.” -And he pointed to the two other skeletons opposite, in their upright -cases. “On my return to my country, even Spain, if a Jew can be said to -have a country, I set myself down on this seat, and, lighted by this -lamp, I took in my hand the pen of a scribe, and vowed by a vow, that -this lamp should not expire, nor this seat be forsaken, nor this vault -untenanted, until that the record is written in a book, and sealed as -with the king’s signet. But, behold, I was traced by those who are keen -of scent, and quick of pursuit, even the sons of Dominick. And they -seized me, and laid my feet fast in the bonds; but my writings they -could not read, because they were traced in a character unknown to this -idolatrous people. And behold, after a space they set me free, finding -no cause of offence in me; and they bade me depart, and trouble them no -more. Then vowed I a vow unto the God of Israel, who had delivered me -from their thraldom, that none but he who could read these characters -should ever transcribe them. Moreover, I prayed, and said, O Lord God of -Israel! who knowest that we are the sheep of thy fold, and our enemies -as wolves round about us, and as lions who roar for their evening prey, -grant, that a Nazarene escaped from their hands, and fleeing unto us, -even as a bird chased from her nest, may put to shame the weapons of the -mighty, and laugh them to scorn. Grant also, Lord God of Jacob, that he -may be exposed to the snare of the enemy, even as those of whom I have -written, and that he may spit at it with his mouth, and spurn at it with -his feet, and trample on the ensnarer, even as they have trampled; and -then shall my soul, even mine, have peace at the last. Thus I -prayed--and my prayer was heard, for behold, _thou_ art here.” - -“As I heard these words, a horrid foreboding, like a night-mare of the -heart, hung heavily on me. I looked alternately at the withering -speaker, and the hopeless task. To bear about that horrible secret -inurned in my heart, was not that enough? but to be compelled to scatter -its ashes abroad, and to rake into the dust of others for the same -purpose of unhallowed exposure, revolted me beyond feeling and -utterance. As my eye fell listlessly on the manuscripts, I saw they -contained only _the Spanish language_ written in _the Greek -characters_--a mode of writing that, I easily conceived, must have been -as unintelligible to the officers of the Inquisition, as the -Hieroglyphics of the Egyptian priests. Their ignorance, sheltered by -their pride, and that still more strongly fortified by the impenetrable -secresy attached to their most minute proceedings, made them hesitate to -entrust to any one the circumstance of their being in possession of -manuscript which they could not decypher. So they returned the papers to -Adonijah, and, in his own language, “Behold, he abode in safety.” But to -me this was a task of horror unspeakable. I felt myself as an added link -to the chain, the end of which, held by an invisible hand, was drawing -me to perdition; and I was now to become the recorder of my own -condemnation. - -“As I turned over the leaves with a trembling hand, the towering form of -Adonijah seemed dilated with preternatural emotion. “And what dost thou -tremble at, child of the dust?” he exclaimed, “if thou hast been -tempted, so have they--if thou hast resisted, so have they--if they are -at rest, so shalt thou be. There is not a pang of soul or body thou hast -undergone, or canst undergo, that they have not suffered before thy -birth was dreamt of. Boy, thy hand trembles over pages it is unworthy to -touch, yet still I must employ thee, for I need thee. Miserable link of -necessity, that binds together minds so uncongenial! I would that the -ocean were my ink, and the rock my page, and mine arm, even mine, the -pen that should write thereon letters that should last like those on the -written mountains for ever and ever--even the mount of Sinai, and those -that still bear the record, “Israel hath passed the flood(6).” As he -spoke, I again turned over the manuscripts. “Does thy hand tremble -still?” said Adonijah; “and dost thou still hesitate to record the story -of those whose destiny a link, wondrous, invisible, and indissoluble, -has bound to thine. Behold, there are those near thee, who, though they -have no longer a tongue, speak to thee with that eloquence which is -stronger than all the eloquence of living tongues. Behold, there are -those around thee, whose mute and motionless arms of bone plead to thee -as no arms of flesh ever pleaded. Behold, there are those who, being -speechless, yet speak--who, being dead, are yet alive--who, though in -the abyss of eternity, are yet around thee, and call on thee, as with a -mortal voice. Hear them!--take the pen in thine hand, and write.” I took -the pen in my hand, but could not write a line. Adonijah, in a transport -of ecstasy, snatching a skeleton from its receptacle, placed it before -me. “Tell him thy story thyself, peradventure he will believe thee, and -record it.” And supporting the skeleton with one hand, he pointed with -the other, as bleached and bony as that of the dead, to the manuscript -that lay before me. - - (6) Written mountains, _i. e._ rocks inscribed with characters - recordative of some remarkable event, are well known to every oriental - traveller. I think it is in the notes of Dr Coke, on the book of - Exodus, that I have met with the circumstance alluded to above. A rock - near the Red Sea is said once to have borne the inscription, “Israel - hath passed the flood.” - -“It was a night of storms in the world above us; and, far below the -surface of the earth as we were, the murmur of the winds, sighing -through the passages, came on my ear like the voices of the -departed,--like the pleadings of the dead. Involuntarily I fixed my eye -on the manuscript I was to copy, and never withdrew till I had finished -its extraordinary contents. - - - - -Tale of the Indians. - - -“There is an island in the Indian sea, not many leagues from the mouth -of the Hoogly, which, from the peculiarity of its situation and internal -circumstances, long remained unknown to Europeans, and unvisited by the -natives of the contiguous islands, except on remarkable occasions. It is -surrounded by shallows that render the approach of any vessel of weight -impracticable, and fortified by rocks that threatened danger to the -slight canoes of the natives, but it was rendered still more formidable -by the terrors with which superstition had invested it. There was a -tradition that the first temple to the black goddess Seeva(7), had been -erected there; and her hideous idol, with its collar of human sculls, -forked tongues darting from its twenty serpent mouths, and seated on a -matted coil of adders, had there first received the bloody homage of the -mutilated limbs and immolated infants of her worshippers. - - (7) Vide Maurice’s Indian Antiquities. - -“The temple had been overthrown, and the island half depopulated, by an -earthquake, that agitated all the shores of India. It was rebuilt, -however, by the zeal of the worshippers, who again began to re-visit the -island, when a tufaun of fury unparalleled even in those fierce -latitudes, burst over the devoted spot. The pagoda was burnt to ashes by -the lightning; the inhabitants, their dwellings, and their plantations, -swept away as with the besom of destruction, and not a trace of -humanity, cultivation, or life, remained in the desolate isle. The -devotees consulted their imagination for the cause of these calamities; -and, while seated under the shade of their cocoa-trees they told their -long strings of coloured beads, they ascribed it to the wrath of the -goddess Seeva at the increasing popularity of the worship of Juggernaut. -They asserted that her image had been seen ascending amid the blaze of -lightning that consumed her shrine and blasted her worshippers as they -clung to it for protection, and firmly believed she had withdrawn to -some happier isle, where she might enjoy her feast of flesh, and draught -of blood, unmolested by the worship of a rival deity. So the island -remained desolate, and without inhabitant for years. - -“The crews of European vessels, assured by the natives that there was -neither animal, or vegetable, or water, to be found on its surface, -forbore to visit; and the Indian of other isles, as he passed it in his -canoe, threw a glance of melancholy fear at its desolation, and flung -something overboard to propitiate the wrath of Seeva. - -“The island, thus left to itself, became vigorously luxuriant, as some -neglected children improve in health and strength, while pampered -darlings die under excessive nurture. Flowers bloomed, and foliage -thickened, without a hand to pluck, a step to trace, or a lip to taste -them, when some fishermen, (who had been driven by a strong current -toward the isle, and worked with oar and sail in vain to avoid its -dreaded shore), after making a thousand prayers to propitiate Seeva, -were compelled to approach within an oar’s length of it; and, on their -return in unexpected safety, reported they had heard sounds so -exquisite, that some other goddess, milder than Seeva, must have fixed -on that spot for her residence. The younger fishermen added to this -account, that they had beheld a female figure of supernatural -loveliness, glide and disappear amid the foliage which now luxuriantly -overshadowed the rocks; and, in the spirit of Indian devotees, they -hesitated not to call this delicious vision an incarnated emanation of -Vishnu, in a lovelier form than ever he had appeared before,--at least -far beyond that which he assumed, when he made one of his avatars in the -figure of a tiger. - -“The inhabitants of the islands, as superstitious as they were -imaginative, deified the vision of the isles after their manner. The old -devotees, while invoking her, stuck close to the bloody rites of Seeva -and Haree, and muttered many a horrid vow over their beads, which they -took care to render effectual by striking sharp reeds into their arms, -and tinging every bead with blood as they spoke. The young women rowed -their light canoes as near as they dared to the haunted isle, making -vows to Camdeo(8), and sending their paper vessels, lit with wax, and -filled with flowers, towards its coast, where they hoped their darling -deity was about to fix his residence. The young men also, at least those -who were in love and fond of music, rowed close to the island to solicit -the god Krishnoo(9) to sanctify it by his presence; and not knowing what -to offer to the deity, they sung their wild airs standing high on the -prow of the canoe, and at last threw a figure of wax, with a kind of -lyre in its hand, towards the shore of the desolate isle. - - (8) The Cupid of the Indian mythology. - - (9) The Indian Apollo. - -“For many a night these canoes might be seen glancing past each other -over the darkened sea, like _shooting stars of the deep_, with their -lighted paper lanthorns, and their offerings of flowers and fruits, left -by some trembling hand on the sands, or hung by a bolder one in baskets -of cane on the rocks; and still the simple islanders felt joy and -devotion united in this “voluntary humility.” It was observed, however, -that the worshippers departed with very different impressions of the -object of their adoration. The women all clung to their oars in -breathless admiration of the sweet sounds that issued from the isle; and -when that ceased they departed, murmuring over in their huts those -“notes angelical,” to which their own language furnished no appropriate -sounds. The men rested long on their oars, to catch a glimpse of the -form which, by the report of the fishermen, wandered there; and, when -disappointed, they rowed home sadly. - -“Gradually the isle lost its bad character for terror; and in spite of -some old devotees, who told their blood-discoloured beads, and talked of -Seeva and Haree, and even held burning splinters of wood to their -scorched hands, and stuck sharp pieces of iron, which they had purchased -or stolen from the crews of European vessels, in the most fleshy and -sensitive parts of their bodies,--and, moreover, talked of suspending -themselves from trees with the head downwards, till they were consumed -by insects, or calcined by the sun, or rendered delirious by their -position,--in spite of all this, which must have been very affecting, -the young people went on their own way,--the girls offering their -wreaths to Camdeo, and the youths invoking Krishnoo, till the devotees, -in despair, vowed to visit this accursed island, which had set every -body mad, and find out how the unknown deity was to be recognised and -propitiated; and whether flowers, and fruits, and love-vows, and the -beatings of young hearts, were to be substituted for the orthodox and -legitimate offering of nails grown into the hands till they appeared -through their backs, and _setons_ of ropes inserted into the sides, on -which the religionist danced his dance of agony, till the ropes or his -patience failed. In a word, they were determined to find out what this -deity was, who demanded no suffering from her worshippers,--and they -fulfilled their resolution in a manner worthy of their purpose. - -“One hundred and forty beings, crippled by the austerities of their -religion, unable to manage sail or oar, embarked in a canoe to reach -what they called the accursed isle. The natives, intoxicated with the -belief of their sanctity, stripped themselves naked, to push their boat -through the surf, and then, making their _salams_, implored them to use -oars at least. The devotees, all too intent on their beads, and too well -satisfied of their importance in the eyes of their favourite deities, to -admit a doubt of their safety, set off in triumph,--and the consequence -may be easily conjectured. The boat soon filled and sunk, and the crew -perished without a single sigh of lamentation, except that they had not -feasted the alligators in the sacred waters of the Ganges, or perished -at least under the shadow of the domes of the _holy city_ of Benares, in -either of which cases their salvation must have been unquestionable. - -“This circumstance, apparently so untoward, operated favourably on the -popularity of the new worship. The old system lost ground every day. -Hands, instead of being scorched over the fire, were employed only in -gathering flowers. Nails (with which it was the custom of the devotees -to lard their persons) actually fell in price; and a man might sit at -his ease on his hams with as safe a conscience, and as fair a character, -as if fourscore of them occupied the interval between. On the other -hand, fruits were every day scattered on the shores of the favourite -isle; flowers, too, blushed on its rocks, in all the dazzling luxuriance -of colouring with which the Flora of the East delights to array herself. -There was that brilliant and superb lily, which, to this day, -illustrates the comparison between it and Solomon, who, in all his -glory, was not arrayed like one of them. There was the rose unfolding -its “paradise of leaves,” and the scarlet blossom of the bombex, which -an English traveller has voluptuously described as banqueting the eye -with “its mass of vegetable splendour” unparalleled. And the female -votarists at last began to imitate some of “those sounds and sweet airs” -that every breeze seemed to waft to their ears, with increasing strength -of melody, as they floated in their canoes round this isle of -enchantment. - -“At length one circumstance occurred that put its sanctity of character, -and that of its inmate, out of all doubt. A young Indian who had in vain -offered to his beloved the mystical bouquet, in which the arrangement of -the flowers is made to express love, rowed his canoe to the island, to -learn his fate from its supposed inhabitant; and as he rowed, composed a -song, which expressed that his mistress despised him, as if he were a -Paria, but that he would love her though he were descended from the head -of Brahma;--that her skin was more polished than the marble steps by -which you descend to the tank of a Rajah, and her eyes brighter than any -whose glances were watched by presumptuous strangers through the rents -of the embroidered purdah(10) of a Nawaub;--that she was loftier in his -eyes than the black pagoda of Juggernaut, and more brilliant than the -trident of the temple of Maha-deva, when it sparkled in the beams of the -moon. And as both these objects were visible to his eyes from the shore, -as he rowed on in the soft and glorious serenity of an Indian night, no -wonder they found a place in his verse. Finally, he promised, that if -she was propitious to his suit, he would build her a hut, raised four -feet above the ground to avoid the serpents;--that her dwelling should -be overshadowed by the boughs of the tamarind; and that while she slept, -he would drive the musquitoes from her with a fan, composed of the -leaves of the first flowers which she accepted as a testimony of his -passion. - - (10) The curtain behind which women are concealed. - -“It so happened, that the same night, the young female, whose reserve -had been the result of any thing but indifference, attended by two of -her companions, rowed her canoe to the same spot, with the view of -discovering whether the vows of her lover were sincere. They arrived -about the same time; and though it was now twilight, and the -superstition of these timid beings gave a darker tinge to the shadows -that surrounded them, they ventured to land; and, bearing their baskets -of flowers in trembling hands, advanced to hang them on the ruins of the -pagoda, amid which it was presumed the new goddess had fixed her abode. -They proceeded, not without difficulty, through thickets of flowers that -had sprung spontaneously in the uncultivated soil--not without fear that -a tiger might spring on them at every step, till they recollected that -those animals chose generally the large jungles for their retreat, and -seldom harboured amid flowers. Still less was the alligator to be -dreaded, amid the narrow streams that they could cross without tinging -their ancles with its pure water. The tamarind, the cocoa, and the -palm-tree, shed their blossoms, and exhaled their odours, and waved -their leaves, over the head of the trembling votarist as she approached -the ruin of the pagoda. It had been a massive square building, erected -amid rocks, that, by a caprice of nature not uncommon in the Indian -isles, occupied its centre, and appeared the consequence of some -volcanic explosion. The earthquake that had overthrown it, had mingled -the rocks and ruins together in a shapeless and deformed mass, which -seemed to bear alike the traces of the impotence of art and nature, when -prostrated by the power that has formed and can annihilate both. There -were pillars, wrought with singular characters, heaped amid stones that -bore no impress but that of some fearful and violent action of nature, -that seemed to say, Mortals, write your lines with the chisel, I write -my hieroglyphics in fire. There were the disjointed piles of stones -carved into the form of snakes, on which the hideous idol of Seeva had -once been seated; and close to them the rose was bursting through the -earth which occupied the fissures of the rock, as if nature preached a -milder theology, and deputed her darling flower as her missionary to her -children. The idol itself had fallen, and lay in fragments. The horrid -mouth was still visible, into which human hearts had been formerly -inserted. But now, the beautiful peacocks, with their rain-bow trains -and arched necks, were feeding their young amid the branches of the -tamarind that overhung the blackened fragments. The young Indians -advanced with diminished fear, for there was neither sight or sound to -inspire the fear that attends the approach to the presence of a -spiritual being--all was calm, still, and dark. Yet their feet trod with -involuntary lightness as they advanced to these ruins, which combined -the devastations of nature with those of the human passions, perhaps -more bloody and wild than the former. Near the ruins there had formerly -been a tank, as is usual, near the pagodas, both for the purposes of -refreshment and purification; but the steps were now broken, and the -water was stagnated. The young Indians, however, took up a few drops, -invoked the “goddess of the isle,” and approached the only remaining -arch. The exterior front of this building had been constructed of stone, -but its interior had been hollowed out of the rock; and its recesses -resembled, in some degree, those in the island of Elephanta. There were -monstrous figures carved in stone, some adhering to the rock, others -detached from it, all frowning in their shapeless and gigantic -hideousness, and giving to the eye of superstition the terrible -representation of “_gods of stone_.” - -“Two of the young votarists, who were distinguished for their courage, -advanced and performed a kind of wild dance before the ruins of the -ancient gods, as they called them, and invoked (as they might) the new -resident of the isle to be propitious to the vows of their companion, -who advanced to hang her wreath of flowers round the broken remains of -an idol half-defaced and half-hidden among the fragments of stone, but -clustered over with that rich vegetation which seems, in oriental -countries, to announce the eternal triumph of nature amid the ruins of -art. Every year renews the rose, but what year shall see a pyramid -rebuilt? As the young Indian hung her wreath on the shapeless stone, a -voice murmured, “There is a _withered_ flower there.”--“Yes--yes--there -is,” answered the votarist, “and that withered flower is an emblem of my -heart. I have cherished many roses, but suffered one to wither that was -the sweetest to me of all the wreath. Wilt thou revive him for me, -unknown goddess, and my wreath shall no longer be a dishonour to thy -shrine?”--“Wilt _thou_ revive the rose by placing it in the warmth of -thy bosom,” said the young lover, appearing from behind the fragments of -rock and ruin that had sheltered him, and from which he had uttered his -oracular reply, and listened with delight to the emblematical but -intelligible language of his beloved. “Wilt thou revive the rose?” he -asked, in the triumph of love, as he clasped her to his bosom. The young -Indian, yielding at once to love and superstition, seemed half-melting -in his embrace, when, in a moment, she uttered a wild shriek, repelled -him with all her strength, and crouched in an uncouth posture of fear, -while she pointed with one quivering hand to a figure that appeared, at -that moment, in the perspective of that tumultuous and indefinite heap -of stone. The lover, unalarmed by the shriek of his mistress, was -advancing to catch her in his arms, when his eye fell on the object that -had struck hers, and he sunk on his face to the earth, in mute -adoration. - -“The form was that of a female, but such as they had never before -beheld, for her skin was perfectly white, (at least in their eyes, who -had never seen any but the dark-red tint of the natives of the Bengalese -islands). Her drapery (as well as they could see) consisted only of -flowers, whose rich colours and fantastic grouping harmonized well with -the peacock’s feathers twined among them, and altogether composed a -feathery fan of wild drapery, which, in truth, beseemed an “island -goddess.” Her long hair, of a colour they had never beheld before, pale -auburn, flowed to her feet, and was fantastically entwined with the -flowers and the feathers that formed her dress. On her head was a -coronal of shells, of hue and lustre unknown except in the Indian -seas--the purple and the green vied with the amethyst, and the emerald. -On her white bare shoulder a loxia was perched, and round her neck was -hung a string of their pearl--like eggs, so pure and pellucid, that the -first sovereign in Europe might have exchanged her richest necklace of -pearls for them. Her arms and feet were perfectly bare, and her step had -a goddess-like rapidity and lightness, that affected the imagination of -the Indians as much as the extraordinary colour of her skin and hair. -The young lovers sunk in awe before this vision as it passed before -their eyes. While they prostrated themselves, a delicious sound trembled -on their ears. The beautiful vision spoke to them, but it was in a -language they did not understand; and this confirming their belief that -it was the language of the gods, they prostrated themselves to her -again. At that moment, the loxia, springing from her shoulder, came -fluttering towards them. “He is going to seek for fire-flies to light -his cell(11),” said the Indians to each other. But the bird, who, with -an intelligence peculiar to his species, understood and adopted the -predilection of the fair being he belonged to, for the fresh flowers in -which he saw her arrayed every day, darted at the withered rose-bud in -the wreath of the young Indian; and, striking his slender beak through -it, laid it at her feet. The omen was interpreted auspiciously by the -lovers, and, bending once more to the earth, they rowed back to their -island, but no longer in separate canoes. The lover steered that of his -mistress, while she sat beside him in silence; and the young people who -accompanied them chaunted verses in praise of the _white_ goddess, and -the island sacred to her and to lovers. - - (11) From the fire-flies being so often found in the nest of the - loxia, the Indians imagine he illuminates his nest with them. It is - more likely they are the food of his young. - - - - -CHAPTER XV. - - But tell me to what saint, I pray, - What martyr, or what angel bright, - Is dedicate this holy day, - Which brings you here so gaily dight? - - Dost thou not, simple Palmer, know, - What every child can tell thee here?-- - Nor saint nor angel claims this show, - But the bright season of the year. - - QUEEN-HOO HALL, BY STRUTT. - - -“The sole and beautiful inmate of the isle, though disturbed at the -appearance of her worshippers, soon recovered her tranquillity. She -could not be conscious of fear, for nothing of that world in which she -lived had ever borne a hostile appearance to her. The sun and the -shade--the flowers and foliage--the tamarinds and figs that prolonged -her delightful existence--the water that she drank, wondering at the -beautiful being who seemed to drink whenever she did--the peacocks, who -spread out their rich and radiant plumage the moment they beheld -her--and the loxia, who perched on her shoulder and hand as she walked, -and answered her sweet voice with imitative chirpings--all these were -her friends, and she knew none but these. - -“The human forms that sometimes approached the island, caused her a -slight emotion; but it was rather that of curiosity than alarm; and -their gestures were so expressive of reverence and mildness, their -offerings of flowers, in which she delighted, so acceptable, and their -visits so silent and peaceful, that she saw them without reluctance, and -only wondered, as they rowed away, how they could move on the water in -safety; and how creatures so dark, and with features so unattractive, -happened to _grow_ amid the beautiful flowers they presented to her as -the productions of their abode. The elements might be supposed to have -impressed her imagination with some terrible ideas; but the periodical -regularity of these phænomena, in the climate she inhabited, divested -them of their terrors to one who had been accustomed to them, as to the -alternation of night and day--who could not remember the fearful -impression of the first, and, above all, who had never heard any terror -of them expressed _by another_,--perhaps the primitive cause of fear in -most minds. Pain she had never felt--of death she had no idea--how, -then, could she become acquainted with fear? - -“When a north-wester, as it is termed, visited the island, with all its -terrific accompaniments of midnight darkness, clouds of suffocating -dust, and thunders like the trumpet of doom, she stood amid the leafy -colonnades of the banyan-tree, ignorant of her danger, watching the -cowering wings and drooping heads of the birds, and the ludicrous terror -of the monkies, as they skipt from branch to branch with their young. -When the lightning struck a tree, she gazed as a child would on a -fire-work played off for its amusement; but the next day she wept, when -she saw the leaves would no longer grow on the blasted trunk. When the -rains descended in torrents, the ruins of the pagoda afforded her a -shelter; and she sat listening to the rushing of the mighty waters, and -the murmurs of the troubled deep, till her soul took its colour from the -sombrous and magnificent imagery around her, and she believed herself -precipitated to earth with the deluge--borne downward, like a leaf, by a -cataract--engulphed in the depths of the ocean--rising again to light on -the swell of the enormous billows, as if she were heaved on the back of -a whale--deafened with the roar--giddy with the rush--till terror and -delight embraced in that fearful exercise of imagination. So she lived -like a flower amid sun and storm, blooming in the light, and bending to -the shower, and drawing the elements of her sweet and wild existence -from both. And both seemed to mingle their influences kindly for her, as -if she was a thing that nature loved, even in her angry mood, and gave a -commission to the storm to nurture her, and to the deluge to spare the -ark of her innocence, as it floated over the waters. This existence of -felicity, half physical, half imaginative, but neither intellectual or -impassioned, had continued till the seventeenth year of this beautiful -and mild being, when a circumstance occurred that changed its hue for -ever. - -“On the evening of the day after the Indians had departed, Immalee, for -that was the name her votarists had given her, was standing on the -shore, when a being approached her unlike any she had ever beheld. The -colour of his face and hands resembled her own more than those she was -accustomed to see, but his garments, (which were European), from their -square uncouthness, their shapelessness, and their disfiguring -projection about the hips, (it was the fashion of the year 1680), gave -her a mixed sensation of ridicule, disgust, and wonder, which her -beautiful features could express only by a smile--that smile, a _native -of the face_ from which not even surprise could banish it. - -“The stranger approached, and the beautiful vision approached also, but -not like an European female with low and graceful bendings, still less -like an Indian girl with her low salams, but like a young fawn, all -animation, timidity, confidence, and cowardice, expressed in almost a -single action. She sprung from the sands--ran to her favourite -tree;--returned again with her guard of peacocks, who expanded their -superb trains with a kind of instinctive motion, as if they felt the -danger that menaced their protectress, and, clapping her hands with -exultation, seemed to invite them to share in the delight she felt in -gazing at the _new flower that had grown in the sand_. - -“The stranger advanced, and, to Immalee’s utter astonishment, addressed -her in the language which she herself had retained some words of since -her infancy, and had endeavoured in vain to make her peacocks, parrots, -and loxias, answer her in corresponding sounds. But her language, from -want of practice, had become so limited, that she was delighted to hear -its most unmeaning sounds uttered by human lips; and when he said, -according to the form of the times, “How do you, fair maid?” she -answered, “God made me,” from the words of the Christian Catechism that -had been breathed into her infant lip. “God never made a fairer -creature,” replied the stranger, grasping her hand, and fixing on her -eyes that still burn in the sockets of that arch-deceiver. “Oh yes!” -answered Immalee, “he made many things more beautiful. The rose is -redder than I am--the palm-tree is taller than I am--and the wave is -bluer than I am;--but they all change, and I never change. I have grown -taller and stronger, though the rose fades every six moons; and the rock -splits to let in the bats, when the earth shakes; and the waves fight in -their anger till they turn grey, and far different from the beautiful -colour they have when the moon comes dancing on them, and sending all -the young, broken branches of her light to kiss my feet, as I stand on -the soft sand. I have tried to gather them every night, but they all -broke in my hand the moment I dipt it into water.”--“And have you fared -better with the stars?” said the stranger smiling.--“No,” answered the -innocent being, “the stars are the flowers of heaven, and the rays of -the moon the boughs and branches; but though they are so bright, they -only blossom in the night,--and I love better the flowers that I can -gather, and twine in my hair. When I have been all night wooing a star, -and it has listened and descended, springing downwards like a peacock -from its nest, it has hid itself often afterwards playfully amid the -mangoes and tamarinds where it fell; and though I have searched for it -till the moon looked wan and weary of lighting me, I never could find -it. But where do you come from?--you are not scaly and voiceless like -those who grow in the waters, and show their strange shapes as I sit on -the shore at sun-set;--nor are you red and diminutive like those who -come over the waters to me from other worlds, in houses that can live on -the deep, and walk so swiftly, with their legs plunged in the water. -Where do you come from?--you are not so bright as the stars that live in -the blue sea above me, nor so deformed as those that toss in the darker -sea at my feet. Where did you grow, and how came you here?--there is not -a canoe on the sand; and though the shells bear the fish that live in -them so lightly over the waters, they never would bear me. When I placed -my foot on their scolloped edge of crimson and purple, they sunk into -the sand.”--“Beautiful creature,” said the stranger, “I come from a -world where there are thousands like me.”--“That is impossible,” said -Immalee, “for I live here alone, and other worlds must be like -this.”--“What I tell you is true, however,” said the stranger. Immalee -paused for a moment, as if making the first effort of reflection--an -exertion painful enough to a being whose existence was composed of -felicitous tacts and unreflecting instincts--and then exclaimed, “We -both must have grown in the world of voices, for I know what you say -better than the chirp of the loxia, or the cry of the peacock. That must -be a delightful world where they all speak--what would I give that my -roses grew in the world of answers!” - -“At this moment the stranger made certain signals of hunger, which -Immalee understood in a moment, and told him to follow her to where the -tamarind and the fig were shedding their fruit--where the stream was so -clear, you could count the purple shells in its bed--and where she would -scoop for him in the cocoa-shell the cool waters that flowed beneath the -shade of the mango. As they went, she gave him all the information about -herself that she could. She told him that she was the daughter of a -palm-tree, under whose shade she had been first conscious of existence, -but that her poor father had been long withered and dead--that she was -very old, having seen many roses decay on their stalks; and though they -were succeeded by others, she did not love them so well as the first, -which were a great deal larger and brighter--that, in fact, every thing -had grown smaller latterly, for she was now able to reach to the fruit -which formerly she was compelled to wait for till it dropt on the -ground;--but that the water was grown taller, for once she was forced to -drink it on her hands and knees, and now she could scoop it in a -cocoa-shell. Finally, she added, she was much older than the moon, for -she had seen it waste away till it was dimmer than the light of a -fire-fly; and the moon that was lighting them now would decline too, and -its successor be so small, that she would never again give it the name -she had given to the first--Sun of the Night. “But,” said her companion, -“how are you able to speak a language you never learned from your loxias -and peacocks?”--“I will tell you,” said Immalee, with an air of -solemnity, which her beauty and innocence made at once ludicrous and -imposing, and in which she betrayed a slight tendency to that wish to -mystify that distinguishes her delightful sex,--“there came a spirit to -me from the world of voices, and it whispered to me sounds that I never -have forgotten, long, long before I was born.”--“Really?” said the -stranger. “Oh yes!--long before I could gather a fig, or gather the -water in my hand, and that must be before I was born. When I _was_ born, -I was not so high as the rose-bud, at which I tried to catch, now I am -as near the moon as the palm-tree--sometimes I catch her beams sooner -than he does, therefore I must be very old, and very high.” At these -words, the stranger, with an expression indescribable, leaned against a -tree. He viewed that lovely and helpless being, while he refused the -fruits and water she offered him, with a look, that, for the first time, -intimated compassion. The stranger feeling did not dwell long in a -mansion it was unused to. The expression was soon exchanged for that -half-ironical, half-diabolical glance Immalee could not understand. “And -you live here alone,” he said, “and you have lived in this beautiful -place without a companion?”--“Oh no!” said Immalee, “I have a companion -more beautiful than all the flowers in the isle. There is not a -rose-leaf that drops in the river so bright as its cheek. My friend -lives under the water, but its colours are so bright. It kisses me too, -but its lips are very cold; and when I kiss it, it seems to dance, and -its beauty is all broken into a thousand faces, that come smiling at me -like little stars. But, though my friend has a thousand faces, and I -have but one, still there is one thing that troubles me. There is but -one stream where it meets me, and that is where are no shadows from the -trees--and I never can catch it but when the sun is bright. Then when I -catch it in the stream, I kiss it on my knees; but my friend has grown -so tall, that sometimes I wish it were smaller. Its lips spread so much -wider, that I give it a thousand kisses for one that I get.” “Is your -friend male or female,” said the stranger.--“What is that?” answered -Immalee.--“I mean, of what sex is your friend?” - -“But to this question he could obtain no satisfactory answer; and it was -not till his return the next day, when he revisited the isle, that he -discovered Immalee’s friend was what he suspected. He found this -innocent and lovely being bending over a stream that reflected her -image, and wooing it with a thousand wild and graceful attitudes of -joyful fondness. The stranger gazed at her for some time, and thoughts -it would be difficult for man to penetrate into, threw their varying -expression over his features for a moment. It was the first of his -intended victims he had ever beheld with compunction. The joy, too, with -which Immalee received him, almost brought back human feelings to a -heart that had long renounced them; and, for a moment, he experienced a -sensation like that of his master when he visited paradise,--pity for -the flowers he resolved to wither for ever. He looked at her as she -fluttered round him with outspread arms and dancing eyes; and sighed, -while she welcomed him in tones of such wild sweetness, as suited a -being who had hitherto conversed with nothing but the melody of birds -and the murmur of waters. With all her ignorance, however, she could not -help testifying her amazement at his arriving at the isle without any -visible means of conveyance. He evaded answering her on this point, but -said, “Immalee, I come from a world wholly unlike that you inhabit, amid -inanimate flowers, and unthinking birds. I come from a world where all, -as I do, think and speak.” Immalee was speechless with wonder and -delight for some time; at length she exclaimed, “Oh, how they must love -each other! even I love my poor birds and flowers, and the trees that -shade, and the waters that sing to me!” The stranger smiled. “In all -that world, perhaps there is not another being beautiful and innocent as -you. It is a world of suffering, guilt, and care.” It was with much -difficulty she was made to comprehend the meaning of these words, but -when she did, she exclaimed, “Oh, that I could live in that world, for I -would make every one happy!”--“But you could not, Immalee,” said the -stranger; “this world is of such extent that it would take your whole -life to traverse it, and, during your progress, you never could be -conversant with more than a small number of sufferers at a time, and the -evils they undergo are in many instances such as you or no human power -could relieve.” At these words, Immalee burst into an agony of tears. -“Weak, but lovely being,” said the stranger, “could your tears heal the -corrosions of disease?--cool the burning throb of a cancered -heart?--wash the pale slime from the clinging lips of famine?--or, more -than all, quench the fire of forbidden passion?” Immalee paused aghast -at this enumeration, and could only faulter out, that wherever she went, -she would bring her flowers and sunshine among the healthy, and they -should all sit under the shade of her own tamarind. That for disease and -death, she had long been accustomed to see flowers wither and die their -beautiful death of nature. “And perhaps,” she added, after a reflective -pause, “as I have often known them to retain their delicious odour even -after they were faded, perhaps _what thinks_ may live too after the form -has faded, and that is a thought of joy.” Of passion, she said she knew -nothing, and could propose no remedy for an evil she was unconscious of. -She had seen flowers fade with the season, but could not imagine why the -flower should destroy itself. “But did you never trace a worm in the -flower?” said the stranger, with the sophistry of corruption. “Yes,” -answered Immalee, “but the worm was not the native of the flower; its -own leaves never could have hurt it.” This led to a discussion, which -Immalee’s impregnable innocence, though combined with ardent curiosity -and quick apprehension, rendered perfectly harmless to her. Her playful -and desultory answers,--her restless eccentricity of imagination,--her -keen and piercing, though ill-poised intellectual weapons,--and, above -all, her instinctive and unfailing _tact_ in matters of right and wrong, -formed altogether an array that discomfited and baffled the tempter more -than if he had been compelled to encounter half the _wranglers_ of the -European academies of that day. In the logic of the schools he was -well-versed, but in this logic of the heart and of nature, he was -“ignorance itself.” It is said, that the “awless lion” crouches before -“a maid in the pride of her purity.” The tempter was departing gloomily, -when he saw tears start from the bright eyes of Immalee, and caught a -wild and dark omen from her innocent grief. “And you weep, Immalee?” -“Yes,” said the beautiful being, “I always weep when I see the sun set -in clouds; and will you, the sun of my heart, set in darkness too? and -will you not rise again? will you not?” and, with the graceful -confidence of pure innocence, she pressed her red delicious lip to his -hand as she spoke. “Will you not? I shall never love my roses and -peacocks if you do not return, for they cannot speak to me as you do, -nor can I give them one thought, but you can give me many. Oh, I would -like to have many thoughts about _the world that suffers_, from which -you came; and I believe you came from it, for, till I saw you, I never -felt a pain that was not pleasure; but now, it is all pain when I think -you will not return.”--“I will return,” said the stranger, “beautiful -Immalee, and will shew you, at my return, a glimpse of that world from -which I come, and in which you will soon be an inmate.”--“But shall I -see you there,” said Immalee, “otherwise how shall I _talk -thoughts_?”--“Oh yes,--oh certainly.”--“But why do you repeat the same -words twice; _your once_ would have been enough.”--“Well then, -yes.”--“Then take this rose from me, and let us inhale its odour -together, as I say to my friend in the fountain, when I bend to kiss -_it_; but my friend withdraws _its_ rose before I have tasted it, and I -leave mine on the water. Will you not take my rose,” said the beautiful -suppliant, bending towards him. “I will,” said the stranger; and he took -a flower from the cluster Immalee held out to him. It was a withered -one. He snatched it, and hid it in his breast. “And will you go without -a canoe across that dark sea?” said Immalee.--“We shall meet again, and -meet in the _world of suffering_,” said the stranger.--“Thank you,--oh, -thank you,” repeated Immalee, as she saw him plunge fearless amid the -surf. The stranger answered only, “We shall meet again.” Twice, as he -parted, he threw a glance at the beautiful and isolated being; a -lingering of humanity trembled round his heart,--but he tore the -withered rose from his bosom, and to the waved arm and angel-smile of -Immalee, he answered, “We shall meet again.” - - - - -CHAPTER XVI. - - Più non ho la dolce speranza. - - DIDONE. - - -“Seven mornings and evenings Immalee paced the sands of her lonely isle, -without seeing the stranger. She had still his promise to console her, -that they should meet in the world of suffering; and this she repeated -to herself as if it was full of hope and consolation. In this interval -she tried to educate herself for her introduction into this world, and -it was beautiful to see her attempting, from vegetable and animal -analogies, to form some image of the incomprehensible destiny of man. In -the shade she watched the withering flower.--“The blood that ran red -through its veins yesterday is purple to-day, and will be black and dry -to-morrow,” she said; “but it feels no pain--it dies patiently,--and the -ranunculus and tulip near it are untouched by grief for their companion, -or their colours would not be so resplendent. But can it be thus in the -world that thinks? Could I see _him_ wither and die, without withering -and dying along with him. Oh no! when that flower fades, I will be the -dew that falls over him!” - -“She attempted to enlarge her comprehension, by observing the animal -world. A young loxia had fallen dead from its pendent nest; and Immalee, -looking into the aperture which that intelligent bird forms at the lower -extremity of the nest to secure it from birds of prey, perceived the old -ones with fire-flies in their small beaks, their young one lying dead -before them. At this sight Immalee burst into tears.--“Ah! you cannot -weep,” she said, “what an advantage I have over you! You eat, though -your young one, your own one, is dead; but could I ever drink of the -milk of the cocoa, if _he_ could no longer taste it? I begin to -comprehend what he said--to think, then, is to suffer--and a world of -thought must be a world of pain! But how delicious are these tears! -Formerly I wept for pleasure--but there is a pain sweeter than pleasure, -that I never felt till I beheld _him_. Oh! who would not think, to have -the joy of tears?” - -“But Immalee did not occupy this interval solely in reflection; a new -anxiety began to agitate her; and in the intervals of her meditation and -her tears, she searched with avidity for the most glowing and -fantastically wreathed shells to deck her arms and hair with. She -changed her drapery of flowers every day, and never thought them fresh -after the first hour; then she filled her largest shells with the most -limpid water, and her hollow cocoa nuts with the most delicious figs, -interspersed with roses, and arranged them picturesquely on the stone -bench of the ruined pagoda. The time, however, passed over without the -arrival of the stranger, and Immalee, on visiting her fairy banquet the -next day, wept over the withered fruit, but dried her eyes, and hastened -to replace them. - -“She was thus employed on the eighth morning, when she saw the stranger -approach; and the wild and innocent delight with which she bounded -towards him, excited in him for a moment a feeling of gloomy and -reluctant compunction, which Immalee’s quick susceptibility traced in -his pausing step and averted eye. She stood trembling in lovely and -pleading diffidence, as if intreating pardon for an unconscious offence, -and asking permission to approach by the very attitude in which she -forbore it, while tears stood in her eyes ready to fall at another -repelling motion. This sight “whetted his almost blunted purpose.” She -must learn to suffer, to qualify her to become my pupil, he thought. -“Immalee, you weep,” he added, approaching her. “Oh yes!” said Immalee, -smiling like a spring morning through her tears; “you are to teach me to -suffer, and I shall soon be very fit for your world--but I had rather -weep for you, than smile on a thousand roses.”--“Immalee,” said the -stranger, repelling the tenderness that melted him in spite of himself, -“Immalee, I come to shew you something of the world of thought you are -so anxious to inhabit, and of which you must soon become an inmate. -Ascend this hill where the palm-trees are clustering, and you shall see -a glimpse of part of it.”--“But I would like to see the whole, and all -at once!” said Immalee, with the natural avidity of thirsty and unfed -intellect, that believes it can swallow all things, and digest all -things. “The whole, and all at once!” said her conductor, turning to -smile at her as she bounded after him, breathless and glowing with newly -excited feeling. “I doubt the part you will see to-night will be more -than enough to satiate even your curiosity.” As he spoke he drew a tube -from his vest, and bid her apply it to her sight. The Indian obeyed him; -but, after gazing a moment, uttered the emphatic exclamation, “I am -there!--or are they here?” and sunk on the earth in a frenzy of delight. -She rose again in a moment, and eagerly seizing the telescope, applied -it in a wrong direction, which disclosed merely the sea to her view, and -exclaimed sadly, “Gone!--gone--all that beautiful world lived and died -in a moment--all that I love die so--my dearest roses live not half so -long as those I neglect--you were absent for seven moons since I first -saw you, and the beautiful world lived only a moment.” - -“The stranger again directed the telescope towards the shore of India, -from which they were not far distant, and Immalee again exclaimed in -rapture, “Alive and more beautiful than ever!--all living, thinking -things!--their _very walk thinks_. No mute fishes, and senseless trees, -but wonderful rocks(12), on which they look with pride, as if they were -the works of their own hands. Beautiful rocks! how I love the perfect -straitness of your sides, and the crisped and flower-like knots of your -decorated tops! Oh that flowers grew, and birds fluttered round you, and -then I would prefer you even to the rocks under which I watch the -setting sun! Oh what a world must that be where nothing is natural, and -every thing beautiful!--thought must have done all that. But, how -_little every thing is_!--thought should have made every thing -larger--_thought should be a god_. But,” she added with quick -intelligence and self-accusing diffidence, “perhaps I am wrong. -Sometimes I have thought I could lay my hand on the top of a palm-tree, -but when, after a long, long time, I came close to it, I could not have -reached its lowest leaf were I ten times higher than I am. Perhaps your -beautiful world may grow higher as I approach it.”--“Hold, Immalee,” -said the stranger, taking the telescope from her hands, “to enjoy this -sight you should understand it.”--“Oh yes!” said Immalee, with -submissive anxiety, as the world of sense rapidly lost ground in her -imagination against the new-found world of mind,--“yes--let me -think.”--“Immalee, have you any religion?” said the visitor, as an -indescribable feeling of pain made his pale brow still paler. Immalee, -quick in understanding and sympathising with physical feeling, darted -away at these words, returned in a moment with a banyan leaf, with which -she wiped the drops from his livid forehead; and then seating herself at -his feet, in an attitude of profound but eager attention, repeated, -“_Religion!_ what is that? is it a new thought?”--“It is the -consciousness of a Being superior to all worlds and their inhabitants, -because he is the Maker of all, and will be their judge--of a Being whom -we cannot see, but in whose power and presence we must believe, though -invisible--of one who is every where unseen; always acting, though never -in motion; hearing all things, but never heard.” Immalee interrupted -with an air of distraction--“Hold! too many thoughts will kill me--let -me pause. I have seen the shower that came to refresh the rose-tree beat -it to the earth.” After an effort of solemn recollection, she added, -“The voice of dreams told me something like that before I was born, but -it is so long ago,--sometimes I have had thoughts within me like that -voice. I have thought I loved the things around me too much, and that I -should love things _beyond_ me--flowers that could not fade, and a sun -that never sets. I could have sprung, like a bird into the air, after -such a thought--but there was no one to shew me that path upward.” And -the young enthusiast lifted towards heaven eyes in which trembled the -tears of ecstatic imaginings, and then turned their mute pleadings on -the stranger. - - (12) Intellige “buildings.” - -“It is right,” he continued, “not only to have thoughts of this Being, -but to express them by some outward acts. The inhabitants of the world -you are about to see, call this, _worship_,--and they have adopted (a -Satanic smile curled his lip as he spoke) very different modes; so -different, that, in fact, there is but one point in which they all -agree--that of making their religion a torment;--the religion of some -prompting them to torture themselves, and the religion of some prompting -them to torture others. Though, as I observed, they all agree in this -important point, yet unhappily they differ so much about the mode, that -there has been much disturbance about it in the world that thinks.”--“In -the world that _thinks_!” repeated Immalee, “Impossible! Surely they -must know that a difference cannot be acceptable to Him who is -One.”--“And have you then adopted no mode of expressing your thoughts of -this Being, that is, of worshipping him?” said the stranger.--“I smile -when the sun rises in its beauty, and I weep when I see the evening star -rise,” said Immalee.--“And do you recoil at the inconsistencies of -varied modes of worship, and yet you yourself employ smiles and tears in -your address to the Deity?”--“I do,--for they are both the expressions -of joy with me,” said the poor Indian; “the sun is as happy when he -smiles through the rain-clouds, as when he burns in the mid-height of -heaven, in the fierceness of his beauty; and I am happy whether I smile -or I weep.”--“Those whom you are about to see,” said the stranger, -offering her the telescope, “are as remote in their forms of worship as -smiles from tears; but they are not, like you, equally happy in both.” -Immalee applied her eye to the telescope, and exclaimed in rapture at -what she saw. “What do you see?” said the stranger. Immalee described -what she saw with many imperfect expressions, which, perhaps, may be -rendered more intelligible by the explanatory words of the stranger. - -“You see,” said he, “the coast of India, the shores of the world near -you.--There is the black pagoda of Juggernaut, that enormous building on -which your eye is first fixed. Beside it stands a Turkish mosque--you -may distinguish it by a figure like that of the half-moon. It is the -will of him who rules that world, that its inhabitants should worship -him by that sign(13). At a small distance you may see a low building -with a trident on its summit--that is the temple of Maha-deva, one of -the ancient goddesses of the country.”--“But the houses are nothing to -me,” said Immalee, “shew me the living things that go there. The houses -are not half so beautiful as the rocks on the shore, draperied all over -with sea-weeds and mosses, and shaded by the distant palm-tree and -cocoa.”--“But those buildings,” said the tempter, “are indicative of the -various modes of thinking of those who frequent them. If it is into -their thoughts you wish to look, you must see them expressed by their -actions. In their dealings with each other, men are generally deceitful, -but in their dealings with their gods, they are tolerably sincere in the -expression of the character they assign them in their imaginations. If -that character be formidable, they express fear; if it be one of -cruelty, they indicate it by the sufferings they inflict on themselves; -if it be gloomy, the image of the god is faithfully reflected in the -visage of the worshipper. Look and judge.” - - (13) Tippoo Saib wished to substitute the Mohamedan for the Indian - mythology throughout his dominions. This circumstance, though long - antedated, is therefore imaginable. - -“Immalee looked and saw a vast sandy plain, with the dark pagoda of -Juggernaut in the perspective. On this plain lay the bones of a thousand -skeletons, bleaching in the burning and unmoistened air. A thousand -human bodies, hardly more alive, and scarce less emaciated, were -trailing their charred and blackened bodies over the sands, to perish -under the shadow of the temple, hopeless of ever reaching that of its -walls. - -“Multitudes of them dropt dead as they crawled. Multitudes still living, -faintly waved their hands, to scare the vultures that hovered nearer and -nearer at every swoop, and scooped the poor remnants of flesh from the -living bones of the screaming victim, and retreated, with an answering -scream of disappointment at the scanty and tasteless morsel they had -torn away. - -“Many tried, in their false and fanatic zeal, to double their torments, -by crawling through the sands on their hands and knees; but hands -through the backs of which the nails had grown, and knees worn literally -to the bone, struggled but feebly amid the sands and the skeletons, and -the bodies that were soon to be skeletons, and the vultures that were to -make them so. - -“Immalee withheld her breath, as if she inhaled the abominable effluvia -of this mass of putrefaction, which is said to desolate the shores near -the temple of Juggernaut, like a pestilence. - -“Close to this fearful scene, came on a pageant, whose splendour made a -brilliant and terrible contrast to the loathsome and withering -desolation of animal and intellectual life, amid which its pomp came -towering, and sparkling, and trembling on. An enormous fabric, more -resembling a moving palace than a triumphal car, supported the inshrined -image of Juggernaut, and was dragged forward by the united strength of a -thousand human bodies, priests, victims, brahmins, faqueers and all. In -spite of this huge force, the impulse was so unequal, that the whole -edifice rocked and tottered from time to time, and this singular union -of instability and splendour, of trembling decadence and terrific glory, -gave a faithful image of the meretricious exterior, and internal -hollowness, of idolatrous religion. As the procession moved on, -sparkling amid desolation, and triumphant amid death, multitudes rushed -forward from time to time, to prostrate themselves under the wheels of -the enormous machine, which crushed them to atoms in a moment, and -passed on;--others “cut themselves with knives and lancets after their -manner,” and not believing themselves worthy to perish beneath the -wheels of the idol’s chariot, sought to propitiate him by dying the -tracks of those wheels with their blood;--their relatives and friends -shouted with delight as they saw the streams of blood dye the car and -its line of progress, and hoped for an interest in these voluntary -sacrifices, with as much energy, and perhaps as much reason, as the -Catholic votarist does in the penance of St Bruno, or the ex-oculation -of St Lucia, or the martyrdom of St Ursula and her eleven thousand -virgins, which, being interpreted, means the martyrdom of a single -female named _Undecimilla_, which the Catholic legends read _Undecim -Mille_. - -“The procession went on, amid that mixture of rites that characterizes -idolatry in all countries,--half resplendent, half horrible--appealing -to nature while they rebel against her--mingling flowers with blood, and -casting alternately a screaming infant, or a garland of roses, beneath -the car of the idol. - -“Such was the picture that presented to the strained, incredulous eyes -of Immalee, those mingled features of magnificence and horror,--of joy -and suffering,--of crushed flowers and mangled bodies,--of magnificence -calling on torture for its triumph,--and the steam of blood and the -incense of the rose, inhaled at once by the triumphant nostrils of an -incarnate demon, who rode amid the wrecks of nature and the spoils of -the heart! Immalee gazed on in horrid curiosity. She saw, by the aid of -the telescope, a boy seated on the front of the moving temple, who -“perfected the praise” of the loathsome idol, with all the outrageous -lubricities of the Phallic worship. From the slightest consciousness of -the meaning of this phenomenon, her unimaginable purity protected her as -with a shield. It was in vain that the tempter plied her with questions, -and hints of explanation, and offers of illustration. He found her -chill, indifferent, and even incurious. He gnashed his teeth and gnawed -his lip _en parenthese_. But when she saw mothers cast their infants -under the wheels of the car, and then turn to watch the wild and wanton -dance of the Almahs, and appear, by their open lips and clapped hands, -to keep time to the sound of the silver bells that tinkled round their -slight ankles, while their infants were writhing in their dying -agony,--she dropt the telescope in horror, and exclaimed, “The world -that thinks does not feel. I never saw the rose kill the bud!” - -“But look again,” said the tempter, “to that square building of stone, -round which a few stragglers are collected, and whose summit is -surmounted by a trident,--that is the temple of Maha-deva, a goddess who -possesses neither the power or the popularity of the great idol -Juggernaut. Mark how her worshippers approach her.” Immalee looked, and -saw women offering flowers, fruits, and perfumes; and some young girls -brought birds in cages, whom they set free; others, after making vows -for the safety of some absent, sent a small and gaudy boat of paper, -illuminated with wax, down the stream of an adjacent river, with -injunctions never to sink till it reached him. - -“Immalee smiled with pleasure at the rites of this harmless and elegant -superstition. “This is not the religion of torment,” said she.--“Look -again,” said the stranger. She did, and beheld those very women whose -hands had been employed in liberating birds from their cages, -suspending, on the branches of the trees which shadowed the temple of -Maha-deva, baskets containing their new-born infants, who were left -there to perish with hunger, or be devoured by the birds, while their -mothers danced and sung in honour of the goddess. - -“Others were occupied in conveying, apparently with the most zealous and -tender watchfulness, their aged parents to the banks of the river, -where, after assisting them to perform their ablations, with all the -intensity of filial and divine piety, they left them half immersed in -the water, to be devoured by alligators, who did not suffer their -wretched prey to linger in long expectation of their horrible death; -while others were deposited in the jungles near the banks of the river, -where they met with a fate as certain and as horrible, from the tigers -who infested it, and whose yell soon hushed the feeble wail of their -unresisting victims. - -“Immalee sunk on the earth at this spectacle, and clasping both hands -over her eyes, remained speechless with grief and horror. - -“Look yet again,” said the stranger, “the rites of all religions are not -so bloody.” Once more she looked, and saw a Turkish mosque, towering in -all the splendour that accompanied the first introduction of the -religion of Mahomet among the Hindoos. It reared its gilded domes, and -carved minarets, and crescented pinnacles, rich with all the profusion -which the decorative imagination of Oriental architecture, at once light -and luxuriant, gorgeous and aerial, delights to lavish on its favourite -works. - -“A group of stately Turks were approaching the mosque, at the call of -the muezzin. Around the building arose neither tree nor shrub; it -borrowed neither shade nor ornament from nature; it had none of those -soft and graduating shades and hues, which seem to unite the works of -God and the creature for the glory of the former, and calls on the -inventive magnificence of art, and the spontaneous loveliness of nature, -to magnify the Author of both; it stood the independent work and emblem -of vigorous hands and proud minds, such as appeared to belong to those -who now approached it as worshippers. Their finely featured and -thoughtful countenances, their majestic habits, and lofty figures, -formed an imposing contrast to the unintellectual expression, the -crouching posture, and the half naked squalidness of some poor Hindoos, -who, seated on their hams, were eating their mess of rice, as the -stately Turks passed on to their devotions. Immalee viewed them with a -feeling of awe and pleasure, and began to think there might be some good -in the religion professed by these noble-looking beings. But, before -they entered the mosque, they spurned and spit at the unoffending and -terrified Hindoos; they struck them with the flats of their sabres, and, -terming them dogs of idolaters, they cursed them in the name of God and -the prophet. Immalee, revolted and indignant at the sight, though she -could not hear the words that accompanied it, demanded the reason of it. -“Their religion,” said the stranger, “binds them to hate all who do not -worship as they do.”--“Alas!” said Immalee, weeping, “is not that hatred -which their religion teaches, a proof that theirs is the worst? But -why,” she added, her features illuminated with all the wild and -sparkling intelligence of wonder, while flushed with recent fears, “why -do I not see among them some of those lovelier beings, whose habits -differ from theirs, and whom you call women? Why do they not worship -also; or have they a milder religion of their own?”--“_That_ religion,” -replied the stranger, “is not very favourable to those beings, of whom -you are the loveliest; it teaches that men shall have different -companions in the world of souls; nor does it clearly intimate that -women shall ever arrive there. Hence you may see some of these excluded -beings wandering amid those stones that designate the place of their -dead, repeating prayers for the dead whom they dare not hope to join; -and others, who are old and indigent, seated at the doors of the mosque, -reading aloud passages from a book lying on their knees, (which they -call the Koran), with the hope of soliciting alms, not of exciting -devotion.” At these desolating words, Immalee, who had in vain looked to -any of these systems for that hope or solace which her pure spirit and -vivid imagination alike thirsted for, felt a recoiling of the soul -unutterable at religion thus painted to her, and exhibiting only a -frightful picture of blood and cruelty, of the inversion of every -principle of nature, and the disruption of every tie of the heart. - -“She flung herself on the ground, and exclaiming, “There is no God, if -there be none but theirs!” then, starting up as if to take a last view, -in the desperate hope that all was an illusion, she discovered a small -obscure building overshaded by palm-trees, and surmounted by a cross; -and struck by the unobtrusive simplicity of its appearance, and the -scanty number and peaceable demeanour of the few who were approaching -it, she exclaimed, that this must be a new religion, and eagerly -demanded its name and rites. The stranger evinced some uneasiness at the -discovery she had made, and testified still more reluctance to answer -the questions which it suggested; but they were pressed with such -restless and coaxing importunity, and the beautiful being who urged them -made such an artless transition from profound and meditative grief to -childish, yet intelligent curiosity, that it was not in man, or more or -less than man, to resist her. - -“Her glowing features, as she turned them toward him, with an expression -half impatient, half pleading, were indeed those “(14)of a stilled -infant smiling through its tears.” Perhaps, too, another cause might -have operated on this prophet of curses, and made him utter a blessing -where he meant malediction; but into this we dare not inquire, nor will -it ever be fully known till the day when all secrets must be disclosed. -However it was, he felt himself compelled to tell her it was a new -religion, the religion of Christ, whose rites and worshippers she -beheld. “But what are the rites?” asked Immalee. “Do they murder their -children, or their parents, to prove their love to God? Do they hang -them on baskets to perish, or leave them on the banks of rivers to be -devoured by fierce and hideous animals?”--“The religion they profess -forbids that,” said the stranger, with reluctant truth; “it requires -them to honour their parents, and to cherish their children.”--“But why -do they not spurn from the entrance to their church those who do not -think as they do?”--“Because their religion enjoins them to be mild, -benevolent, and tolerant; and neither to reject or disdain those who -have not attained its purer light.”--“But why is there no splendour or -magnificence in their worship; nothing grand or attractive?”--“Because -they know that God cannot be acceptably worshipped but by pure hearts -and crimeless hands; and though their religion gives every hope to the -penitent guilty, it flatters none with false promises of external -devotion supplying the homage of the heart; or artificial and -picturesque religion standing in the place of that single devotion to -God, before whose throne, though the proudest temples erected to his -honour crumble into dust, the heart burns on the altar still, an -inextinguishable and acceptable victim.” - - (14) I trust the absurdity of this quotation here will be forgiven for - its beauty. It is borrowed from Miss Baillie, the first dramatic poet - of the age. - -“As he spoke, (perhaps constrained by a higher power), Immalee bowed her -glowing face to the earth, and then raising it with the look of a -new-born angel, exclaimed, “Christ shall be my God, and I will be a -Christian!” Again she bowed in the deep prostration which indicates the -united submission of soul and body, and remained in this attitude of -absorption so long, that, when she rose, she did not perceive the -absence of her companion.--“He fled murmuring, and with him fled the -shades of night.” - - - - -CHAPTER XVII. - - “Why, I did say something about getting a licence from the Cadi.” - - BLUE BEARD. - - -“The visits of the stranger were interrupted for some time, and when he -returned, it seemed as if their purpose was no longer the same. He no -longer attempted to corrupt her principles, or sophisticate her -understanding, or mystify her views of religion. On the latter subject -he was quite silent, seemed to regret he had ever touched on it, and not -all her restless avidity of knowledge, or caressing importunity of -manner, could extract from him another syllable on the subject. He -repayed her amply, however, by the rich, varied, and copious stores of a -mind, furnished with matter apparently beyond the power of human -experience to have collected, confined, as it is, within the limits of -threescore years and ten. But this never struck Immalee; she took “no -note of time;” and the tale of yesterday, or the record of past -centuries, were synchronized in a mind to which facts and dates were -alike unknown; and which was alike unacquainted with the graduating -shades of manner, and the linked progress of events. - -“They often sat on the shore of the isle in the evening, where Immalee -always prepared a seat of moss for her visitor, and gazed together on -the blue deep in silence; for Immalee’s newly-awaked intellect and heart -felt that bankruptcy of language, which profound feeling will impress on -the most cultivated intellect, and which, in her case, was increased -alike by her innocence and her ignorance; and her visitor had perhaps -reasons still stronger for his silence. This silence, however, was often -broken. There was not a vessel that sailed in the distance which did not -suggest an eager question from Immalee, and did not draw a slow and -extorted reply from the stranger. His knowledge was immense, various, -and profound, (but this was rather a subject of delight than of -curiosity to his beautiful pupil); and from the Indian canoe, rowed by -naked natives, to the splendid, and clumsy, and ill-managed vessels of -the Rajahs, that floated like huge and gilded fish tumbling in uncouth -and shapeless mirth on the wave, to the gallant and well-manned vessels -of Europe, that came on like the gods of ocean bringing fertility and -knowledge, the discoveries of art, and the blessings of civilization, -wherever their sails were unfurled and their anchors dropt,--he could -tell her all,--describe the destination of every vessel,--the feelings, -characters, and national habits of the many-minded inmates,--and enlarge -her knowledge to a degree which books never could have done; for -colloquial communication is always the most vivid and impressive medium, -and lips have a prescriptive right to be the first intelligencers in -instruction and in love. - -“Perhaps this extraordinary being, with regard to whom the laws of -mortality and the feelings of nature seemed to be alike suspended, felt -a kind of sad and wild repose from the destiny that immitigably pursued -him, in the society of Immalee. We know not, and can never tell, what -sensations her innocent and helpless beauty inspired him with, but the -result was, that he ceased to regard her as his victim; and, when seated -beside her listening to her questions, or answering them, seemed to -enjoy the few lucid intervals of his insane and morbid existence. Absent -from her, he returned to the world to torture and to tempt in the -mad-house where the Englishman Stanton was tossing on his straw----” - -“Hold!” said Melmoth; “what name have you mentioned?”--“Have patience -with me, Senhor,” said Monçada, who did not like interruption; “have -patience, and you will find we are all beads strung on the same string. -Why should we jar against each other? our union is indissoluble.” He -proceeded with the story of the unhappy Indian, as recorded in the -parchments of Adonijah, which he had been compelled to copy, and of -which he was anxious to impress every line and letter on his listener, -to substantiate his own extraordinary story. - -“When absent from her, his purpose was what I have described; but while -present, that purpose seemed suspended; he gazed often on her with eyes -whose wild and fierce lustre was quenched in a dew that he hastily wiped -away, and gazed on her again. While he sat near her on the flowers she -had collected for him,--while he looked on those timid and rosy lips -that waited his signal to speak, like buds that did not dare to blow -till the sun shone on them,--while he heard accents issue from those -lips which he felt it would be as impossible to pervert as it would be -to teach the nightingale blasphemy,--he sunk down beside her, passed his -hand over his livid brow, and, wiping off some cold drops, thought for a -moment he was not the Cain of the moral world, and that the brand was -effaced,--at least for a moment. The habitual and impervious gloom of -his soul soon returned. He felt again the gnawings of the worm that -never dies, and the scorchings of the fire that is never to be quenched. -He turned the fatal light of his dark eyes on the only being who never -shrunk from their expression, for her innocence made her fearless. He -looked intensely at her, while rage, despair, and pity, convulsed his -heart; and as he beheld the confiding and conciliating smile with which -this gentle being met a look that might have withered the heart of the -boldest within him,--a Semele gazing in supplicating love on the -lightnings that were to blast her,--one human drop dimmed their -portentous lustre, as its softened rays fell on her. Turning fiercely -away, he flung his view on the ocean, as if to find, in the sight of -human life, some fuel for the fire that was consuming his vitals. The -ocean, that lay calm and bright before them as a sea of jasper, never -reflected two more different countenances, or sent more opposite -feelings to two hearts. Over Immalee’s, it breathed that deep and -delicious reverie, which those forms of nature that unite tranquillity -and profundity diffuse over souls whose innocence gives them a right to -an unmingled and exclusive enjoyment of nature. None but crimeless and -unimpassioned minds ever truly enjoyed earth, ocean, and heaven. At our -first transgression, nature expels us, as it did our first parents, from -her paradise for ever. - -“To the stranger the view was fraught with far different visions. He -viewed it as a tiger views a forest abounding with prey; there might be -the storm and the wreck; or, if the elements were obstinately calm, -there might be the gaudy and gilded pleasure barge, in which a Rajah and -the beautiful women of his haram were inhaling the sea breeze under -canopies of silk and gold, overturned by the unskilfulness of their -rowers, and their plunge, and struggle, and dying agony, amid the smile -and beauty of the calm ocean, produce one of those contrasts in which -his fierce spirit delighted. Or, were even this denied, he could watch -the vessels as they floated by, and, from the skiff to the huge trader, -be sure that every one bore its freight of woe and crime. There came on -the European vessels full of the passions and crimes of another -world,--of its sateless cupidity, remorseless cruelty, its intelligence, -all awake and ministrant in the cause of its evil passions, and its very -refinement operating as a stimulant to more inventive indulgence, and -more systematized vice. He saw them approach to traffic for “gold, and -silver, and the souls of men;”--to grasp, with breathless rapacity, the -gems and precious produce of those luxuriant climates, and deny the -inhabitants the rice that supported their inoffensive existence;--to -discharge the load of their crimes, their lust and their avarice, and -after ravaging the land, and plundering the natives, depart, leaving -behind them famine, despair, and execration; and bearing with them back -to Europe, blasted constitutions, inflamed passions, ulcerated hearts, -and consciences that could not endure the extinction of a light in their -sleeping apartment. - -“Such were the objects for which he watched; and one evening, when -solicited by Immalee’s incessant questions about the worlds to which the -vessels were hastening, or to which they were returning, he gave her a -description of the world, after his manner, in a spirit of mingled -derision, malignity, and impatient bitterness at the innocence of her -curiosity. There was a mixture of fiendish acrimony, biting irony, and -fearful truth, in his wild sketch, which was often interrupted by the -cries of astonishment, grief, and terror, from his hearer. “They come,” -said he, pointing to the European vessels, “from a world where the only -study of the inhabitants is how to increase their own sufferings, and -those of others, to the utmost possible degree; and, considering they -have only had 4000 years practice at the task, it must be allowed they -are tolerable proficients.”--“But is it possible?”--“You shall judge. In -aid, doubtless, of this desirable object, they have been all originally -gifted with imperfect constitutions and evil passions; and, not to be -ungrateful, they pass their lives in contriving how to augment the -infirmities of the one, and aggravate the acerbities of the other. They -are not like you, Immalee, a being who breathes amid roses, and subsists -only on the juices of fruits, and the lymph of the pure element. In -order to render their thinking powers more gross, and their spirits more -fiery, they devour animals, and torture from abused vegetables a drink, -that, without quenching thirst, has the power of extinguishing reason, -inflaming passion, and shortening life--the best result of all--for life -under such circumstances owes its only felicity to the shortness of its -duration.” - -“Immalee shuddered at the mention of animal food, as the most delicate -European would at the mention of a cannibal feast; and while tears -trembled in her beautiful eyes, she turned them wistfully on her -peacocks with an expression that made the stranger smile. “Some,” said -he, by way of consolation, “have a taste by no means so -sophisticated,--they content themselves at their need with the flesh of -their fellow-creatures; and as human life is always miserable, and -animal life never so, (except from elementary causes), one would imagine -this the most humane and salutary way of at once gratifying the -appetite, and diminishing the mass of human suffering. But as these -people pique themselves on their ingenuity in aggravating the sufferings -of their situation, they leave thousands of human beings yearly to -perish by hunger and grief, and amuse themselves in feeding on animals, -whom, by depriving of existence, they deprive of the only pleasure their -condition has allotted them. When they have thus, by unnatural diet and -outrageous stimulation, happily succeeded in corrupting infirmity into -disease, and exasperating passion into madness, they proceed to exhibit -the proofs of their success, with an expertness and consistency truly -admirable. They do not, like you, Immalee, live in the lovely -independence of nature--lying on the earth, and sleeping with all the -eyes of heaven unveiled to watch you--treading the same grass till your -light step feels a friend in every blade it presses--and conversing with -flowers, till you feel yourself and them children of the united family -of nature, whose mutual language of love you have almost learned to -speak to each other--no, to effect their purpose, their food, which is -of itself poison, must be rendered more fatal by the air they inhale; -and therefore the more civilized crowd all together into a space which -their own respiration, and the exhalation of their bodies, renders -pestilential, and which gives a celerity inconceivable to the -circulation of disease and mortality. Four thousand of them will live -together in a space smaller than the last and lightest colonnade of your -young banyan-tree, in order, doubtless, to increase the effects of fœtid -air, artificial heat, unnatural habits, and impracticable exercise. The -result of these judicious precautions is just what may be guessed. The -most trifling complaint becomes immediately infectious, and, during the -ravages of the pestilence, which this habit generates, ten thousand -lives a-day are the customary sacrifice to the habit of living in -cities.”--“But they die in the arms of those they love,” said Immalee, -whose tears flowed fast at this recital; “and is not that better than -even _life_ in solitude,--as mine was before I beheld you?” - -“The stranger was too intent on his description to heed her. “To these -cities they resort nominally for security and protection, but really for -the sole purpose to which their existence is devoted,--that of -aggravating its miseries by every ingenuity of refinement. For example, -those who live in uncontrasted and untantalized misery, can hardly feel -it--suffering becomes their habit, and they feel no more jealousy of -their situation than the bat, who clings in blind and famishing -stupefaction to the cleft of a rock, feels of the situation of the -butterfly, who drinks of the dew, and bathes in the bloom of every -flower. But the people of the _other worlds_ have invented, by means of -living in cities, a new and singular mode of aggravating human -wretchedness--that of contrasting it with the wild and wanton excess of -superfluous and extravagant splendour.” - -“Here the stranger had incredible difficulty to make Immalee comprehend -how there could be an unequal division of the means of existence; and -when he had done his utmost to explain it to her, she continued to -repeat, (her white finger on her scarlet lip, and her small foot beating -the moss), in a kind of pouting inquietude, “Why should some have more -than they can eat, and others nothing to eat?”--“This,” continued the -stranger, “is the most exquisite refinement on that art of torture which -those beings are so expert in--to place misery by the side of -opulence--to bid the wretch who dies for want feed on the sound of the -splendid equipages which shake his hovel as they pass, but leave no -relief behind--to bid the industrious, the ingenious, and the -imaginative, starve, while bloated mediocrity pants from excess--to bid -the dying sufferer feel that life might be prolonged by one drop of that -exciting liquor, which, wasted, produces only sickness or madness in -those whose lives it undermines;--to do this is their principal object, -and it is fully attained. The sufferer through whose rags the wind of -winter blows, like arrows lodging in every pore--whose tears freeze -before they fall--whose soul is as dreary as the night under whose cope -his resting-place must be--whose glued and clammy lips are unable to -receive the food which famine, lying like a burning coal at his vitals, -craves--and who, amid the horrors of a houseless winter, might prefer -its desolation to that of the den that abuses the name of home--without -food--without light--where the howlings of the storm are answered by the -fiercer cries of hunger--and he must stumble to his murky and strawless -nook over the bodies of his children, who have sunk on the floor, not -for rest, but despair. Such a being, is he not sufficiently miserable?” - -“Immalee’s shudderings were her only answer, (though of many parts of -his description she had a very imperfect idea). “No, he is not enough so -yet,” pursued the stranger, pressing the picture on her; “let his steps, -that know not where they wander, conduct him to the gates of the -affluent and the luxurious--let him feel that plenty and mirth are -removed from him but by the interval of a wall, and yet more distant -than if severed by worlds--let him feel that while _his_ world is -darkness and cold, the eyes of those within are aching with the blaze of -light, and hands relaxed by artificial heat, are soliciting with fans -the refreshment of a breeze--let him feel that every groan he utters is -answered by a song or a laugh--and let him die on the steps of the -mansion, while his last conscious pang is aggravated by the thought, -that the price of the hundredth part of the luxuries that lie untasted -before heedless beauty and sated epicurism, would have protracted his -existence, while it poisons theirs--let him _die of want on the -threshold of a banquet-hall_, and then admire with me the ingenuity that -displays itself in this new combination of misery. The inventive -activity of the people of the world, in the multiplication of calamity, -is inexhaustibly fertile in resources. Not satisfied with diseases and -famine, with sterility of the earth, and tempests of the air, they must -have laws and marriages, and kings and tax-gatherers, and wars and -fetes, and every variety of artificial misery inconceivable to you.” - -“Immalee, overpowered by this torrent of words, to her unintelligible -words, in vain asked a connected explanation of them. The demon of his -superhuman misanthropy had now fully possessed him, and not even the -tones of a voice as sweet as the strings of David’s harp, had power to -expel the evil one. So he went on flinging about his fire-brands and -arrows, and then saying, “Am I not in sport? These people(15),” said he, -“have made unto themselves kings, that is, beings whom they voluntarily -invest with the privilege of draining, by taxation, whatever wealth -their vices have left to the rich, and whatever means of subsistence -their want has left to the poor, till their extortion is cursed from the -castle to the cottage--and this to support a few pampered favourites, -who are harnessed by silken reins to the car, which they drag over the -prostrate bodies of the multitude. Sometimes exhausted by the monotony -of perpetual fruition, which has no parallel even in the monotony of -suffering, (for the latter has at least the excitement of hope, which is -for ever denied to the former), they amuse themselves by making war, -that is, collecting the greatest number of human beings that can be -bribed to the task, to cut the throats of a less, equal, or greater -number of beings, bribed in the same manner for the same purpose. These -creatures have not the least cause of enmity to each other--they do not -know, they never beheld each other. Perhaps they might, under other -circumstances, wish each other well, as far as human malignity would -suffer them; but from the moment they are hired for legalized massacre, -hatred is their duty, and murder their delight. The man who would feel -reluctance to destroy the reptile that crawls in his path, will equip -himself with metals fabricated for the purpose of destruction, and smile -to see it stained with the blood of a being, whose existence and -happiness he would have sacrificed his own to promote, under other -circumstances. So strong is this habit of aggravating misery under -artificial circumstances, that it has been known, when in a sea-fight a -vessel has blown up, (here a long explanation was owed to Immalee, which -may be spared the reader), the people of that world have plunged into -the water to save, at the risk of their own lives, the lives of those -with whom they were grappling amid fire and blood a moment before, and -whom, though they would sacrifice to their passions, their pride refused -to sacrifice to the elements.”--“Oh that is beautiful!--that is -glorious!” said Immalee, clasping her white hands; “I could bear all you -describe to see that sight!” - - (15) As, by a mode of criticism equally false and unjust, the worst - sentiments of my worst characters, (from the ravings of Bertram to the - blasphemies of Cardonneau), have been represented as _my own_, I must - here trespass so far on the patience of the reader as to assure him, - that the sentiments ascribed to the stranger are diametrically - opposite to mine, and that I have purposely put them into the mouth of - an agent of the enemy of mankind. - -“Her smile of innocent delight, her spontaneous burst of high-toned -feeling, had the usual effect of adding a darker shade to the frown of -the stranger, and a sterner curve to the repulsive contraction of his -upper lip, which was never raised but to express hostility or contempt. - -“But what do the kings do?” said Immalee, “while they are making men -kill each other for nothing?”--“You are ignorant, Immalee,” said the -stranger, “very ignorant, or you would not have said it was for -_nothing_. Some of them fight for ten inches of barren sand--some for -the dominion of the salt wave--some for any thing--and some for -nothing--but all for pay and poverty, and occasional excitement, and the -love of action, and the love of change, and the dread of home, and the -consciousness of evil passions, and the hope of death, and the -admiration of the showy dress in which they are to perish. The best of -the jest is, they contrive not only to reconcile themselves to these -cruel and wicked absurdities, but to dignify them with the most imposing -names their perverted language supplies--the names of fame, of glory, of -recording memory, and admiring posterity. - -“Thus a wretch whom want, idleness, or intemperance, drives to this -reckless and heart-withering business,--who leaves his wife and children -to the mercy of strangers, or to famish, (terms nearly synonimous), the -moment he has assumed the blushing badge that privileges massacre, -becomes, in the imagination of this intoxicated people, the defender of -his country, entitled to her gratitude and to her praise. The idle -stripling, who hates the cultivation of intellect, and despises the -meanness of occupation, feels, perhaps, a taste for arraying his person -in colours as gaudy as the parrot’s or the peacock’s; and this -effeminate propensity is baptised by the prostituted name of the love of -glory--and this complication of motives borrowed from vanity and from -vice, from the fear of distress, the wantonness of idleness, and the -appetite for mischief, finds one convenient and sheltering appellation -in the single sound--patriotism. And those beings who never knew one -generous impulse, one independent feeling, ignorant of either the -principles or the justice of the cause for which they contend, and -wholly uninterested in the result, except so far as it involves the -concerns of their own vanity, cupidity, and avarice, are, while living, -hailed by the infatuated world as its benefactors, and when dead, -canonized as its martyrs. He died in his country’s cause, is the epitaph -inscribed by the rash hand of indiscriminating eulogy on the grave of -ten thousand, who had ten thousand different motives for their choice -and their fate,--who might have lived to be their country’s enemies if -they had not _happened_ to fall in her defence,--and whose love of their -country, if fairly analysed, was, under its various forms of vanity, -restlessness, the love of tumult, or the love of show--purely love of -themselves. There let them rest--nothing but the wish to disabuse their -idolaters, who prompt the sacrifice, and then applaud the victim they -have made, could have tempted me to dwell thus long on beings as -mischievous in their lives, as they are insignificant in their death. - -“Another amusement of these people, so ingenious in multiplying the -sufferings of their destiny, is what they call law. They pretend to find -in this a security for their persons and their properties--with how much -justice, their own felicitous experience must inform them! Of the -security it gives to the latter, judge, Immalee, when I tell you, that -you might spend your life in their courts, without being able to prove -that those roses you have gathered and twined in your hair were your -own--that you might starve for this day’s meal, while proving your right -to a property which must incontestibly be yours, on the condition of -your being able to fast on a few years, and survive to enjoy it--and -that, finally, with the sentiments of all upright men, the opinions of -the judges of the land, and the fullest conviction of your own -conscience in your favour, you cannot obtain the possession of what you -and all feel to be your own, while your antagonist can start an -objection, purchase a fraud, or invent a lie. So pleadings go on, and -years are wasted, and property consumed, and hearts broken,--and law -triumphs. One of its most admirable triumphs is in that ingenuity by -which it contrives to convert a difficulty into an impossibility, and -punish a man for not doing what it has rendered impracticable for him to -do. - -“When he is unable to pay his debts, it deprives him of liberty and -credit, to insure that inability still further; and while destitute -alike of the means of subsistence, or the power of satisfying his -creditors, he is enabled, by this righteous arrangement, to console -himself, at least, with the reflection, that he can injure his creditor -as much as he has suffered from him--that certain loss is the reward of -immitigable cruelty--and that, while he famishes in prison, the page in -which his debt is recorded rots away faster than his body; and the angel -of death, with one obliterating sweep of his wing, cancels misery and -debt, and presents, grinning in horrid triumph, the release of debtor -and debt, signed by a hand that makes the judges tremble on their -seats.”--“But they have religion,” said the poor Indian, trembling at -this horrible description; “they have that religion which you shewed -me--its mild and peaceful spirit--its quietness and resignation--no -blood--no cruelty.”--“Yes,--true,” said the stranger, with some -reluctance, “they have religion; for in their zeal for suffering, they -feel the torments of one world not enough, unless aggravated by the -terrors of another. They have such a religion, but what use have they -made of it? Intent on their settled purpose of discovering misery -wherever it could be traced, and inventing it where it could not, they -have found, even in the pure pages of that book, which, they presume to -say, contains their title to peace on earth, and happiness hereafter, a -right to hate, plunder, and murder each other. Here they have been -compelled to exercise an extraordinary share of perverted ingenuity. The -book contains nothing but what is good, and evil must be the minds, and -hard the labour of those evil minds, to extort a tinge from it to colour -their pretensions withal. But mark, in pursuance of their great object, -(the aggravation of general misery), mark how subtilly they have -wrought. They call themselves by various names, to excite passions -suitable to the names they bear. Thus some forbid the perusal of that -book to their disciples, and others assert, that from the exclusive -study of its pages alone, can the hope of salvation be learned or -substantiated. It is singular, however, that with all their ingenuity, -they have never been able to extract a subject of difference from the -_essential_ contents of that book, to which they all appeal--so they -proceed after their manner. - -“They never dare to dispute that it contains irresistible -injunctions,----that those who believe in it should live in habits of -peace, benevolence, and harmony,--that they should love each other in -prosperity, and assist each other in adversity. They dare not deny that -the spirit that book inculcates and inspires, is a spirit whose fruits -are love, joy, peace, long-suffering, mildness, and truth. On these -points they never presumed to differ.--They are too plain to be denied, -so they contrive to make matter of difference out of the various habits -they wear; and they cut each other’s throats for the love of God, on the -important subject(16), whether their jackets should be red or white--or -whether their priests should be arrayed in silk ribbons(17), or white -linen(18), or black household garments(19)--or whether they should -immerse their children in water, or sprinkle them with a few drops of -it--or whether they should partake of the memorials of the death of him -they all profess to love, standing or on their knees--or---- But I weary -you with this display of human wickedness and absurdity. One point is -plain, they all agree that the language of the book is, “Love one -another,” while they all translate that language, “Hate one another.” -But as they can find neither materials or excuse from that book, they -search for them in their own minds,--and there they are never at a loss, -for human minds are inexhaustible in malignity and hostility; and when -they borrow the name of that book to sanction them, the deification of -their passions becomes a duty, and their worst impulses are hallowed and -practised as virtues.”--“Are there no parents or children in these -horrible worlds?” said Immalee, turning her tearful eyes on this -traducer of humanity; “none that love each other as I loved the tree -under which I was first conscious of existence, or the flowers that grew -with me?”--“Parents?--children?” said the stranger; “Oh yes! There are -fathers who instruct their sons----” And his voice was lost--he -struggled to recover it. - - (16) The Catholics and Protestants were thus distinguished in the wars - of the League. - - (17) Catholics. - - (18) Protestants. - - (19) Dissenters. - -“After a long pause, he said, “There are some kind parents among those -sophisticated people.”--“And who are they?” said Immalee, whose heart -throbbed spontaneously at the mention of kindliness.--“Those,” said the -stranger, with a withering smile, “who murder their children at the hour -of their birth, or, by medical art, dismiss them before they have seen -the light; and, in so doing, they give the only credible evidence of -parental affection.” - -“He ceased, and Immalee remained silent in melancholy meditation on what -she had heard. The acrid and searing irony of his language had made no -impression on one with whom “speech was truth,” and who could have no -idea why a circuitous mode of conveying meaning could be adopted, when -even a direct one was often attended with difficulty to herself. But she -could understand, that he had spoken much of evil and of suffering, -names unknown to her before she beheld him, and she turned on him a -glance that seemed at once to thank and reproach him for her painful -initiation into the mysteries of a new existence. She had, indeed, -tasted of the tree of knowledge, and her eyes were opened, but its fruit -was bitter to her taste, and her looks conveyed a kind of mild and -melancholy gratitude, that would have wrung the heart for giving its -first lesson of pain to the heart of a being so beautiful, so gentle, -and so innocent. The stranger marked this blended expression, and -exulted. - -“He had distorted life thus to her imagination, perhaps with the purpose -of terrifying her from a nearer view of it; perhaps in the wild hope of -keeping her for ever in this solitude, where he might sometimes see her, -and catch, from the atmosphere of purity that surrounded her, the only -breeze that floated over the burning desert of his own existence. This -hope was strengthened by the obvious impression his discourse had made -on her. The sparkling intelligence,--the breathless curiosity,--the -vivid gratitude of her former expression,--were all extinguished, and -her down cast and thoughtful eyes were full of tears. - -“Has my conversation wearied you, Immalee?” said he.--“It has grieved -me, yet I wish to listen still,” answered the Indian. “I love to hear -the murmur of the stream, though the crocodile may be beneath the -waves.”--“Perhaps you wish to encounter the people of this world, so -full of crime and misfortune.”--“I do, for it is the world you came -from, and when you return to it all will be happy but me.”--“And is it, -then, in my power to confer happiness?” said her companion; “is it for -this purpose I wander among mankind?” A mingled and indefinable -expression of derision, malevolence, and despair, overspread his -features, as he added, “You do me too much honour, in devising for me an -occupation so mild and so congenial to my spirit.” - -“Immalee, whose eyes were averted, did not see this expression, and she -replied, “I know not, but you have taught me the joy of grief; before I -saw you I only smiled, but since I saw you, I weep, and my tears are -delicious. Oh! they are far different from those I shed for the setting -sun, or the faded rose! And yet I know not--” And the poor Indian, -oppressed by emotions she could neither understand or express, clasped -her hands on her bosom, as if to hide the secret of its new -palpitations, and, with the instinctive diffidence of her purity, -signified the change of her feelings, by retiring a few steps from her -companion, and casting on the earth eyes which could contain their tears -no longer. The stranger appeared troubled,--an emotion new to himself -agitated him for a moment,--then a smile of self-disdain curled his lip, -as if he reproached himself for the indulgence of human feeling even for -a moment. Again his features relaxed, as he turned to the bending and -averted form of Immalee, and he seemed like one conscious of agony of -soul himself, yet inclined to sport with the agony of another’s. This -union of inward despair and outward levity is not unnatural. Smiles are -the legitimate offspring of happiness, but laughter is often the -misbegotten child of madness, that mocks its parent to her face. With -such an expression he turned towards her, and asked, “But what is your -meaning, Immalee?”--A long pause followed this question, and at length -the Indian answered, “I know not,” with that natural and delicious art -which teaches the sex to disclose their meaning in words that seem to -contradict it. “I know not,” means, “I know too well.” Her companion -understood this, and enjoyed his anticipated triumph. “And why do your -tears flow, Immalee?”--“I know not,” said the poor Indian, and her tears -flowed faster at the question. - -“At these words, or rather at these tears, the stranger forgot himself -for a moment. He felt that melancholy triumph which the conqueror is -unable to enjoy; that triumph which announces a victory over the -weakness of others, obtained at the expence of a greater weakness in -ourselves. A human feeling, in spite of him, pervaded his whole soul, as -he said, in accents of involuntary softness, “What would you have me do, -Immalee?” The difficulty of speaking a language that might be at once -intelligible and reserved,--that might convey her wishes without -betraying her heart,--and the unknown nature of her new emotions, made -Immalee faulter long before she could answer, “Stay with me,--return not -to that world of evil and sorrow.--Here the flowers will always bloom, -and the sun be as bright as on the first day I beheld you.--Why will you -go back to the world to think and to be unhappy?” The wild and -discordant laugh of her companion, startled and silenced her. “Poor -girl,” he exclaimed, with that mixture of bitterness and commiseration, -that at once terrifies and humiliates; “and is this the destiny I am to -fulfil?--to listen to the chirping of birds, and watch the opening of -buds? Is this to be my lot?” and with another wild burst of unnatural -laughter, he flung away the hand which Immalee had extended to him as -she had finished her simple appeal.--“Yes, doubtless, I am well fitted -for such a fate, and such a partner. Tell me,” he added, with still -wilder fierceness, “tell me from what line of my features,--from what -accent of my voice,--from what sentiment of my discourse, have you -extracted the foundation of a hope that insults me with the view of -felicity?” Immalee, who might have replied, “I understand a fury in your -words, but not your words,” had yet sufficient aid from her maiden -pride, and female penetration, to discover that she was rejected by the -stranger; and a brief emotion of indignant grief struggled with the -tenderness of her exposed and devoted heart. She paused a moment, and -then checking her tears, said, in her firmest tones, “Go, then, to your -world,--since you wish to be unhappy--go!--Alas! it is not necessary to -go there to be unhappy, for I must be so here. Go,--but take with you -these roses, for they will all wither when you are gone!--take with you -these shells, for I shall no longer love to wear them when you no longer -see them!” And as she spoke, with simple, but emphatic action, she -untwined from her bosom and hair the shells and flowers with which they -were adorned, and threw them at his feet; then turning to throw one -glance of proud and melancholy grief at him, she was retiring. “Stay, -Immalee,--stay, and hear me for a moment,” said the stranger; and he -would, at that moment, have perhaps discovered the ineffable and -forbidden secret of his destiny, but Immalee, in silence, which her look -of profound grief made eloquent, shook sadly her averted head, and -departed. - - - - -CHAPTER XVIII. - - Miseram me omnia terrent, et maris sonitus, et scopuli, et solitudo, - et sanctitudo Apollinis. - - LATIN PLAY. - - -“Many days elapsed before the stranger revisited the isle. How he was -occupied, or what feelings agitated him in the interval, it would be -beyond human conjecture to discover. Perhaps he sometimes exulted in the -misery he had inflicted,--perhaps he sometimes pitied it. His stormy -mind was like an ocean that had swallowed a thousand wrecks of gallant -ships, and now seemed to dally with the loss of a little slender skiff, -that could hardly make way on its surface in the profoundest calm. -Impelled, however, by malignity, or tenderness, or curiosity, or -weariness of artificial life, so vividly contrasted by the unadulterated -existence of Immalee, into whose pure elements nothing but flowers and -fragrance, the sparkling of the heavens, and the odours of earth, had -transfused their essence--or, possibly, by a motive more powerful than -all,--_his own will_; which, never analysed, and hardly ever confessed -to be the ruling principle of our actions, governs nine-tenths of -them.--He returned to the shore of the haunted isle, the name by which -it was distinguished by those who knew not how to classify the new -goddess who was supposed to inhabit it, and who were as much puzzled by -this new specimen in their theology, as Linnæus himself could have been -by a non-descript in botany. Alas! the varieties in moral botany far -exceed the wildest anomalies of those in the natural. However it was, -the stranger returned to the isle. But he had to traverse many paths, -where human foot but his had never been, and to rend away branches that -seemed to tremble at a human touch, and to cross streams into which no -foot but his had ever been dipped, before he could discover where -Immalee had concealed herself. - -“Concealment, however, was not in her thoughts. When he found her, she -was leaning against a rock; the ocean was pouring its eternal murmur of -waters at her feet; she had chosen the most desolate spot she could -find;--there was neither flower or shrub near her;--the calcined rocks, -the offspring of volcano--the restless roar of the sea, whose waves -almost touched her small foot, that seemed by its heedless protrusion at -once to court and neglect danger--these objects were all that surrounded -her. The first time he had beheld her, she was embowered amid flowers -and odours, amid all the glorious luxuries of vegetable and animal -nature; the roses and the peacocks seemed emulous which should expand -their leaves or their plumes, as a shade to that loveliness which seemed -to hover between them, alternately borrowing the fragrance of the one, -and the hues of the other. Now she stood as if deserted even by nature, -whose child she was; the rock was her resting-place, and the ocean -seemed the bed where she purposed to rest; she had no shells on her -bosom, no roses in her hair--her character seemed to have changed with -her feelings; she no longer loved all that is beautiful in nature; she -seemed, by an anticipation of her destiny, to make alliance with all -that is awful and ominous. She had begun to love the rocks and the -ocean, the thunder of the wave, and the sterility of the sand,--awful -objects, the incessant recurrence of whose very sound seems intended to -remind us of grief and of eternity. Their restless monotony of -repetition, corresponds with the beatings of a heart which asks its -destiny from the phenomena of nature, and feels the answer is--“Misery.” - -“Those who love may seek the luxuries of the garden, and inhale added -intoxication from its perfumes, which seem the offerings of nature on -that altar which is already erected and burning in the heart of the -worshipper;--but let those who _have_ loved seek the shores of the -ocean, and they shall have their answer too. - -“There was a sad and troubled air about her, as she stood so lonely, -that seemed at once to express the conflict of her internal emotions, -and to reflect the gloom and agitation of the physical objects around -her; for nature was preparing for one of those awful convulsions--one of -those abortive throes of desolation, that seems to announce a more -perfect wrath to come; and while it blasts the vegetation, and burns up -the soil of some visited portion, seems to proclaim in the murmur of its -receding thunders, that it will return in that day, when the universe -shall pass away as a scroll, and the elements melt with fervent heat, -and return to fulfil the dreadful promise, which its partial and -initiatory devastation has left incomplete. Is there a peal of thunder -that does not mutter a menace, “For _me_, the dissolution of the world -is reserved, I depart, but I shall return?” Is there a flash of -lightning that does not say, _visibly_, if not audibly, “Sinner, I -cannot now penetrate the recesses of your soul; but how will you -encounter my glare, when the hand of the judge is armed with me, and my -penetrating glance displays you to the view of assembled worlds?” - -“The evening was very dark; heavy clouds, rolling on like the forces of -an hostile army, obscured the horizon from east to west. There was a -bright but ghastly blue in the heaven above, like that in the eye of the -dying, where the last forces of life are collected, while its powers are -rapidly forsaking the frame, and feeling their extinguishment must -shortly be. There was not a breath of air to heave the ocean,--the trees -drooped without a whisper to woo their branches or their buds,--the -birds had retired, with that instinct which teaches them to avoid the -fearful encounter of the elements, and nestled with cowering wings and -drooping heads among their favourite trees. There was not a human sound -in the isle; the very rivulet seemed to tremble at its own tinklings, -and its small waves flowed as if a subterranean hand arrested and -impeded their motion. Nature, in these grand and terrific operations, -seems in some degree to assimilate herself to a parent, whose most -fearful denunciations are preceded by an awful silence, or rather to a -judge, whose final sentence is _felt_ with less horror than the pause -that intervenes before it is pronounced. - -“Immalee gazed on the awful scene by which she was surrounded, without -any emotion derived from physical causes. To her, light and darkness had -hitherto been the same; she loved the sun for its lustre, and the -lightning for its transitory brilliancy, and the ocean for its sonorous -music, and the tempest for the agitation which it gave to the trees, -under whose bending and welcoming shadow she danced, in time kept by the -murmur of their leaves, that hung low, as if to crown their votarist. -And she loved the night, when all was still, but what she was accustomed -to call the music of a thousand streams, that made the stars rise from -their beds, to sparkle and nod to that wild melody. - -“Such she had been. Now, her eye was intently fixed on the declining -light, and the approaching darkness,--that preternatural gloom, that -seems to say to the brightest and most beautiful of the works of God, -“Give place to me, thou shalt shine no more.” - -“The darkness increased, and the clouds collected like an army that had -mustered its utmost force, and stood in obdured and collected strength -against the struggling light of heaven. A broad, red, and dusky line of -gloomy light, gathered round the horizon, like an usurper watching the -throne of an abdicated sovereign, and expanding its portentous circle, -sent forth alternately flashes of lightning, pale and red;--the murmur -of the sea increased, and the arcades of the banyan-tree, that had -struck its patriarchal root not five hundred paces from where Immalee -stood, resounded the deep and almost unearthly murmur of the approaching -storm through all its colonnades; the primeval trunk rocked and groaned, -and the everlasting fibres seemed to withdraw their grasp from the -earth, and quiver in air at the sound. Nature, with every voice she -could inspire from earth, or air, or water, announced danger to her -children. - -“That was the moment the stranger chose to approach Immalee; of danger -he was insensible, of fear he was unconscious; his miserable destiny had -exempted him from both, but what had it left him? No hope--but that of -plunging others into his own condemnation. No fear--but that his victim -might escape him. Yet with all his diabolical heartlessness, he _did_ -feel some relentings of his human nature, as he beheld the young Indian; -her cheek was pale, but her eye was fixed, and her figure, turned from -him, (as if she preferred to encounter the tremendous rage of the -storm), seemed to him to say, “Let me fall into the hands of God, and -not into those of man.” - -“This attitude, so unintentionally assumed by Immalee, and so little -expressive of her real feelings, restored all the malignant energies of -the stranger’s feelings; the former evil purposes of his heart, and the -habitual character of his dark and fiendish pursuit, rushed back on him. -Amid this contrasted scene of the convulsive rage of nature, and the -passive helplessness of her unsheltered loveliness, he felt a glow of -excitement, like that which pervaded him, when the fearful powers of his -“charmed life” enabled him to penetrate the cells of a madhouse, or the -dungeons of an Inquisition. - -“He saw this pure being surrounded by the terrors of nature, and felt a -wild and terrible conviction, that though the lightning might blast her -in a moment, yet there was a bolt more burning and more fatal, which was -wielded by his own hand, and which, if he could aim it aright, must -transfix her very soul. - -“Armed with all his malignity and all his power, he approached Immalee, -armed only with her purity, and standing like the reflected beam of the -last ray of light on whose extinction she was gazing. There was a -contrast in her form and her situation, that might have touched any -feelings but those of the wanderer. - -“The light of her figure shining out amid the darkness that enveloped -her,--its undulating softness rendered still softer to the eye by the -rock against which it reclined,--its softness, brightness, and -flexibility, presenting a kind of playful hostility to the tremendous -aspect of nature overcharged with wrath and ruin. - -“The stranger approached her unobserved; his steps were unheard amid the -rush of the ocean, and the deep, portentous murmur of the elements; but, -as he advanced, he heard sounds that perhaps operated on his feelings as -the whispers of Eve to her flowers on the organs of the serpent. Both -knew their power, and felt their time. Amid the fast approaching terrors -of a storm, more terrible than any she had ever witnessed, the poor -Indian, unconscious, or perhaps insensible of its dangers, was singing -her wild song of desperation and love to the echoes of the advancing -storm. Some words of this strain of despair and passion reached the ear -of the stranger. They were thus: - -“The night is growing dark--but what is that to the darkness that his -absence has cast on my soul? The lightnings are glancing round me--but -what are they to the gleam of his eye when he parted from me in anger? - -“I lived but in the light of his presence--why should I not die when -that light is withdrawn? Anger of the clouds, what have I to fear from -you? You may scorch me to dust, as I have seen you scorch the branches -of the eternal trees--but the trunk still remained, and my heart will be -his for ever. - -“Roar on, terrible ocean! thy waves, which I cannot count, can never -wash his image from my soul,--thou dashest a thousand waves against a -rock, but the rock is unmoved--and so would be my heart amid the -calamities of the world with which he threatens me,--whose dangers I -never would have known but for him, and whose dangers for him I will -encounter.” - -“She paused in her wild song, and then renewed it, regardless alike of -the terrors of the elements, and the possible presence of one whose -subtle and poisonous potency was more fatal than all the elements in -their united wrath. - -“When we first met, my bosom was covered with roses--now it is shaded -with the dark leaves of the ocynum. When he saw me first, the living -things all loved me--now I care not whether they love me or not--I have -forgot to love them. When he came to the isle every night, I hoped the -moon would be bright--now I care not whether she rises or sets, whether -she is clouded or bright. Before he came, every thing loved me, and I -had more things to love than I could reckon by the hairs of my head--now -I feel I can love but one, and that one has deserted me. Since I have -seen him all things have changed. The flowers have not the colours they -once had--there is no music in the flow of the waters--the stars do not -smile on me from heaven as they did,--and I myself begin to love the -storm better than the calm.” - -“As she ended her melancholy strain, she turned from the spot where the -increasing fury of the storm made it no longer possible for her to -stand, and turning, met the gaze of the stranger fixed on her. A -suffusion, the most rich and vivid, mantled over her from brow to bosom; -she did not utter her usual exclamation of joy at his sight, but, with -averted eyes and faultering step, followed him as he pointed her to seek -shelter amid the ruins of the pagoda. They approached it in silence; -and, amid the convulsions and fury of nature, it was singular to see two -beings walk on together without exchanging a word of apprehension, or -feeling a thought of danger,--the one armed by despair, the other by -innocence. Immalee would rather have sought the shelter of her favourite -banyan-tree, but the stranger tried to make her comprehend, that her -danger would be much greater there than in the spot he pointed out to -her. “Danger!” said the Indian, while a bright and wild smile irradiated -her features; “can there be danger when you are near me?”--“Is there, -then, no danger in my presence?--few have met me without dreading, and -without feeling it too!” and his countenance, as he spoke, grew darker -than the heaven at which he scowled. “Immalee,” he added, in a voice -still deeper and more thrilling, from the unwonted operation of human -emotion in its tones; “Immalee, you cannot be weak enough to believe -that I have power of controuling the elements? If I had,” he continued, -“by the heaven that is frowning at me, the first exertion of my power -should be to collect the most swift and deadly of the lightnings that -are hissing around us, and transfix you where you stand!”--“Me?” -repeated the trembling Indian, her cheek growing paler at his words, and -the voice in which they were uttered, than at the redoubling fury of the -storm, amid whose pauses she scarce heard them.--“Yes--you--you--lovely -as you are, and innocent, and pure, before a fire more deadly consumes -your existence, and drinks your heart-blood--before you are longer -exposed to a danger a thousand times more fatal than those with which -the elements menace you--the danger of my accursed and miserable -presence!” - -“Immalee, unconscious of his meaning, but trembling with impassioned -grief at the agitation with which he spoke, approached him to soothe the -emotion of which she knew neither the name or the cause. Through the -fractures of the ruin the red and ragged lightnings disclosed, from time -to time, a glimpse of her figure,--her dishevelled hair,--her pallid and -appealing look,--her locked hands, and the imploring bend of her slight -form, as if she was asking pardon for a crime of which she was -unconscious,--and soliciting an interest in griefs not her own. All -around her wild, unearthly, and terrible,--the floor strewed with -fragments of stone, and mounds of sand,--the vast masses of ruined -architecture, whose formation seemed the work of no human hand, and -whose destruction appeared the sport of demons,--the yawning fissures of -the arched and ponderous roof, through which heaven darkened and blazed -alternately with a gloom that wrapt every thing, or a light more fearful -than that gloom.--All around her gave to her form, when it was momently -visible, a relief so strong and so touching, that it might have -immortalized the hand who had sketched her as the embodied presence of -an angel who had descended to the regions of woe and wrath,--of darkness -and of fire, on a message of reconciliation,--and descended in vain. - -“The stranger threw on her, as she bent before him, one of those looks -that, but her own, no mortal eye had yet encountered unappalled. Its -expression seemed only to inspire a higher feeling of devotedness in the -victim. Perhaps an involuntary sentiment of terror mingled itself with -that expression, as this beautiful being sunk on her knees before her -writhing and distracted enemy; and, by the silent supplication of her -attitude, seemed to implore him to have mercy on himself. As the -lightnings flashed around her,--as the earth trembled beneath her white -and slender feet,--as the elements seemed all sworn to the destruction -of every living thing, and marched on from heaven to the accomplishment -of their purpose, with _Væ victis_ written and legible to every eye, in -the broad unfolded banners of that resplendent and sulphurous light that -seemed to display the _day of hell_--the feelings of the devoted Indian -seemed concentrated on the ill-chosen object of their idolatry alone. -Her graduating attitudes beautifully, but painfully, expressed the -submission of a female heart devoted to its object, to his frailties, -his passions, and his very crimes. When subdued by the image of power, -which the mind of man exercises over that of woman, that impulse becomes -irresistibly humiliating. Immalee had at first bowed to conciliate her -beloved, and her spirit had taught her frame that first inclination. In -her next stage of suffering, she had sunk on her knees, and, remaining -at a distance from him, she had trusted to this state of prostration to -produce that effect on his heart which those who love always hope -_compassion_ may produce,--that illegitimate child of love, often more -cherished than its parent. In her last efforts she clung to his -hand--she pressed her pale lips to it, and was about to utter a few -words--her voice failed her, but her fast dropping tears _spoke_ to the -hand which she held,--and its grasp, which for a moment convulsively -returned hers, and then flung it away, answered her. - -“The Indian remained prostrate and aghast. “Immalee,” said the stranger, -in a struggling voice, “Do you wish me to tell you the feelings with -which my presence should inspire you?”--“No--no--no!” said the Indian, -applying her white and delicate hands to her ears, and then clasping -them on her bosom; “I feel them too much.”--“Hate me--curse me!” said -the stranger, not heeding her, and stamping till the reverberation of -his steps on the hollow and loosened stones almost contended with the -thunder; “hate me, for I hate you--I hate all things that live--all -things that are dead--I am myself hated and hateful!”--“Not by me,” said -the poor Indian, feeling, through the blindness of her tears, for his -averted hand. “Yes, by you, if you knew whose I am, and whom I serve.” -Immalee aroused her newly-excited energies of heart and intellect to -answer this appeal. “Who you are, I know not--but I am yours.--Whom you -serve, I know not--but him will _I_ serve--I will be yours for ever. -Forsake me if you will, but when I am dead, come back to this isle, and -say to yourself, The roses have bloomed and faded--the streams have -flowed and been dried up--the rocks have been removed from their -places--and the lights of heaven have altered in their courses,--but -there was one who never changed, and she is not here!” - -“As she spoke the enthusiasm of passion struggling with grief, she -added, “You have told me you possess the happy art of writing -thought.--Do not write one thought on my grave, for one word traced by -your hand would revive me. Do not weep, for one tear would make me live -again, perhaps to draw a tear from you.”--“Immalee!” said the stranger. -The Indian looked up, and, with a mingled feeling of grief, amazement, -and compunction, beheld him shed tears. The next moment he dashed them -away with the hand of despair; and, grinding his teeth, burst into that -wild shriek of bitter and convulsive laughter that announces the object -of its derision is ourselves. - -“Immalee, whose feelings were almost exhausted, trembled in silence at -his feet. “Hear me, wretched girl!” he cried in tones that seemed -alternately tremulous with malignity and compassion, with habitual -hostility and involuntary softness; “hear me! I know the secret -sentiment you struggle with better than the innocent heart of which it -is the inmate knows it. Suppress, banish, destroy it. Crush it as you -would a young reptile before its growth had made it loathsome to the -eye, and poisonous to existence!”--“I never crushed even a reptile in my -life,” answered Immalee, unconscious that this matter-of-fact answer was -equally applicable in another sense. “You love, then,” said the -stranger; “but,” after a long and ominous pause, “do you know whom it is -you love?”--“You!” said the Indian, with that purity of truth that -consecrates the impulse it yields to, and would blush more for the -sophistications of art than the confidence of nature; “you! You have -taught me to think, to feel, and to weep.”--“And you love me for this?” -said her companion, with an expression half irony, half commiseration. -“Think, Immalee, for a moment, how unsuitable, how unworthy, is the -object of the feelings you lavish on him. A being unattractive in his -form, repulsive in his habits, separated from life and humanity by a -gulph impassable; a disinherited child of nature, who goes about to -curse or to tempt his more prosperous brethren; one who----what -withholds me from disclosing all?” - -“At this moment a flash of such vivid and terrific brightness as no -human sight could sustain, gleamed through the ruins, pouring through -every fissure instant and intolerable light. Immalee, overcome by terror -and emotion, remained on her knees, her hands closely clasped over her -aching eyes. - -“For a few moments that she remained thus, she thought she heard other -sounds near her, and that the stranger was answering a voice that spoke -to him. She heard him say, as the thunder rolled to a distance, “This -hour is mine, not thine--begone, and trouble me not.” When she looked up -again, all trace of human emotion was gone from his expression. The dry -and burning eye of despair that he fixed on her, seemed never to have -owned a tear; the hand with which he grasped her, seemed never to have -felt the flow of blood, or the throb of a pulse; amid the intense and -increasing heat of an atmosphere that appeared on fire, its touch was as -cold as that of the dead. - -“Mercy!” cried the trembling Indian, as she in vain endeavoured to read -a human feeling in those eyes of stone, to which her own tearful and -appealing ones were uplifted--“mercy!” And while she uttered the word, -she knew not what she deprecated or dreaded. - -“The stranger answered not a word, relaxed not a muscle; it seemed as if -he felt her not with the hands that grasped her,--as if he saw her not -with the eyes that glared fixedly and coldly on her. He bore, or rather -dragged, her to the vast arch that had once been the entrance to the -pagoda, but which, now shattered and ruinous, resembled more the -gulphing yawn of a cavern that harbours the inmates of the desert, than -a work wrought by the hands of man, and devoted to the worship of a -deity. “You have called for mercy,” said her companion, in a voice that -froze her blood even under the burning atmosphere, whose air she could -scarce respire. “You have cried for mercy, and mercy you shall have. -Mercy has not been dealt to me, but I have courted my horrible destiny, -and my reward is just and sure. Look forth, trembler--look forth,--I -command thee!” And he stamped with an air of authority and impatience -that completed the terror of the delicate and impassioned being who -shuddered in his grasp, and felt half-dead at his frown. - -“In obedience to his command, she removed the long tresses of her auburn -hair, which had vainly swept, in luxuriant and fruitless redundance, the -rock on which the steps of him she adored had been fixed. With that -mixture of the docility of the child, and the mild submission of woman, -she attempted to comply with his demand, but her eyes, filled with -tears, could not encounter the withering horrors of the scene before -her. She wiped those brilliant eyes with hairs that were every day -bathed in the pure and crystal lymph, and seemed, as she tried to gaze -on the desolation, like some bright and shivering spirit, who, for its -further purification, or perhaps for the enlargement of the knowledge -necessary for its destination, is compelled to witness some evidence of -the Almighty’s wrath, unintelligible in its first operations, but -doubtless salutary in its final results. - -“Thus looking and thus feeling, Immalee shudderingly approached the -entrance of that building, which, blending the ruins of nature with -those of art, seemed to announce the power of desolation over both, and -to intimate that the primeval rock, untouched and unmodulated by human -hands, and thrown upwards perhaps by some volcanic eruption, perhaps -deposited there by some meteoric discharge, and the gigantic columns of -stone, whose erection had been the work of two centuries,--were alike -dust beneath the feet of that tremendous conqueror, whose victories -alone are without noise and without resistance, and the progress of -whose triumph is marked by tears instead of blood. - -“Immalee, as she gazed around her, felt, for the first time, terror at -the aspect of nature. Formerly, she had considered all its phenomena as -equally splendid or terrific. And her childish, though active -imagination, seemed to consecrate alike the sun-light and the storm, to -the devotion of a heart, on whose pure altar the flowers and the fires -of nature flung their undivided offering. - -“But since she had seen the stranger, new emotions had pervaded her -young heart. She learned to weep and to fear; and perhaps she saw, in -the fearful aspect of the heavens, the developement of that mysterious -terror, which always trembles at the bottom of the hearts of those who -dare to love. - -“How often does nature thus become an involuntary interpreter between us -and our feelings! Is the murmur of the ocean without a meaning?--Is the -roll of the thunder without a voice?--Is the blasted spot on which the -rage of both has been exhausted without its lesson?--Do not they all -tell us some mysterious secret, which we have in vain searched our -hearts for?--Do we not find in them, an answer to those questions with -which we are for ever importuning the mute oracle of our destiny?--Alas! -how deceitful and inadequate we feel the language of man, after love and -grief have made us acquainted with that of nature!--the only one, -perhaps, capable of a corresponding sign for those emotions, under which -all human expression faints. What a difference between _words without -meaning_, and that _meaning without words_, which the sublime phenomena -of nature, the rocks and the ocean, the moon and the twilight, convey to -those who have “ears to hear.” - -“How eloquent of truth is nature in her very silence! How fertile of -reflections amid her profoundest desolations! But the desolation now -presented to the eyes of Immalee, was that which is calculated to cause -terror, not reflection. Earth and heaven, the sea and the dry land, -seemed mingling together, and about to replunge into chaos. The ocean, -deserting its eternal bed, dashed its waves, whose white surf gleamed -through the darkness, far into the shores of the isle. They came on like -the crests of a thousand warriors, plumed and tossing in their pride, -and, like them, perishing in the moment of victory. There was a fearful -inversion of the natural appearance of earth and sea, as if all the -barriers of nature were broken, and all her laws reversed. - -“The waves deserting their station, left, from time to time, the sands -as dry as those of the desert; and the trees and shrubs tossed and -heaved in ceaseless agitation, like the waves of a midnight storm. There -was no light, but a livid grey that sickened the eye to behold, except -when the bright red lightning burst out like the eye of a fiend, -glancing over the work of ruin, and closing as it beheld it completed. - -“Amid this scene stood two beings, one whose appealing loveliness seemed -to have found favour with the elements even in their wrath, and one -whose fearless and obdurate eye appeared to defy them. “Immalee,” he -cried, “is this a place or an hour to talk of love!--all nature is -appalled--heaven is dark--the animals have hid themselves--and the very -shrubs, as they wave and shrink, seem alive with terror.”--“It is an -hour to implore protection,” said the Indian, clinging to him timidly. -“Look up,” said the stranger, while his own fixed and fearless eye -seemed to return flash for flash to the baffled and insulted elements; -“Look up, and if you cannot resist the impulses of your heart, let me at -least point out a fitter object for them. Love,” he cried, extending his -arm towards the dim and troubled sky, “love the storm in its might of -destruction--seek alliance with those swift and perilous travellers of -the groaning air,--the meteor that rends, and the thunder that shakes -it! Court, for sheltering tenderness, those masses of dense and rolling -cloud,--the baseless mountains of heaven! Woo the kisses of the fiery -lightnings, to quench themselves on your smouldering bosom! Seek all -that is terrible in nature for your companions and your lover!--woo them -to burn and blast you--perish in their fierce embrace, and you will be -happier, far happier, than if you lived in mine! _Lived!_--Oh who can be -mine and live! Hear me, Immalee!” he cried, while he held her hands -locked in his--while his eyes, rivetted on her, sent forth a light of -intolerable lustre--while a new feeling of indefinite enthusiasm seemed -for a moment to thrill his whole frame, and new-modulate the tone of his -nature; “Hear me! If you will be mine, it must be amid a scene like this -for ever--amid fire and darkness--amid hatred and despair--amid----” and -his voice swelling to a demoniac shriek of rage and horror, and his arms -extended, as if to grapple with the fearful objects of some imaginary -struggle, he was rushing from the arch under which they stood, lost in -the picture which his guilt and despair had drawn, and whose images he -was for ever doomed to behold. - -“The slender form that had clung to him was, by this sudden movement, -prostrated at his feet; and, with a voice choaked with terror, yet with -that perfect devotedness which never issued but from the heart and lip -of woman, she answered his frightful questions with the simple demand, -“_Will you be there?_”--“Yes!--THERE I must be, and for ever! And _will_ -you, and _dare_ you, be with me?” And a kind of wild and terrible energy -nerved his frame, and strengthened his voice, as he spoke and cowered -over pale and prostrate loveliness, that seemed in profound and reckless -humiliation to court its own destruction, as if a dove exposed its -breast, without flight or struggle, to the beak of a vulture. “Well, -then,” said the stranger, while a brief convulsion crossed his pale -visage, “amid thunder I wed thee--bride of perdition! mine shalt thou be -for ever! Come, and let us attest our nuptials before the reeling altar -of nature, with the lightnings of heaven for our bed-lights, and the -curse of nature for our marriage-benediction!” The Indian shrieked in -terror, not at his words, which she did not understand, but at the -expression which accompanied them. “Come,” he repeated, “while the -darkness yet is witness to our ineffable and eternal union.” Immalee, -pale, terrified, but resolute, retreated from him. - -“At this moment the storm, which had obscured the heavens and ravaged -the earth, passed away with the rapidity common in those climates, where -the visitation of an hour does its work of destruction unimpeded, and is -instantly succeeded by the smiling lights and brilliant skies of which -mortal curiosity in vain asks the question, Whether they gleam in -triumph or in consolation over the mischief they witness? - -“As the stranger spoke, the clouds passed away, carrying their -diminished burden of wrath and terror where sufferings were to be -inflicted, and terrors to be undergone, by the natives of other -climes--and the bright moon burst forth with a glory unknown in European -climes. The heavens were as blue as the waves of the ocean, which they -seemed to reflect; and the stars burst forth with a kind of indignant -and aggravated brilliancy, as if they resented the usurpation of the -storm, and asserted the eternal predominance of nature over the casual -influences of the storms that obscured her. Such, perhaps, will be the -developement of the moral world. We shall be told why we suffered, and -for what; but a bright and blessed lustre shall follow the storm, and -all shall yet be light. - -“The young Indian caught from this object an omen alike auspicious to -her imagination and her heart. She burst from him--she rushed into the -light of nature, whose glory seemed like the promise of redemption, -gleaming amid the darkness of the fall. She pointed to the moon, that -sun of the eastern nights, whose broad and brilliant light fell like a -mantle of glory over rock and ruin, over tree and flower. - -“Wed me by this light,” cried Immalee, “and I will be yours for ever!” -And her beautiful countenance reflected the full light of the glorious -planet that rode bright through the cloudless heaven--and her white and -naked arms, extended towards it, seemed like two pure attesting pledges -of the union. “Wed me by this light,” she repeated, sinking on her -knees, “and I will be yours for ever!” - -“As she spoke, the stranger approached, moved with what feelings no -mortal thought can discover. At that moment a trifling phenomenon -interfered to alter her destiny. A darkened cloud at that moment covered -the moon--it seemed as if the departed storm collected in wrathful haste -the last dark fold of its tremendous drapery, and was about to pass away -for ever. - -“The eyes of the stranger flashed on Immalee the brightest rays of -mingled fondness and ferocity. He pointed to the darkness,--“WED ME BY -THIS LIGHT!” he exclaimed, “_and you shall be mine for ever and ever!_” -Immalee, shuddering at the grasp in which he held her, and trying in -vain to watch the expression of his countenance, yet felt enough of her -danger to tear herself from him. “Farewell for ever!” exclaimed the -stranger, as he rushed from her. - -“Immalee, exhausted by emotion and terror, had fallen senseless on the -sands that filled the path to the ruined pagoda. He returned--he raised -her in his arms--her long dark hair streamed over them like the drooping -banners of a defeated army--her arms sunk down as if declining the -support they seemed to implore--her cold and colourless cheek rested on -his shoulder. - -“Is she dead?” he murmured. “Well, be it so--let her perish--let her be -any thing _but mine_!” He flung his senseless burden on the sands, and -departed--nor did he ever revisit the island. - - - - -CHAPTER XIX. - - Que donne le monde aux siens plus souvent, - Echo _Vent_. - Que dois-je vaincre ici, sans jamais relacher, - Echo _la chair_. - Qui fit le cause des maux, qui me sont survenus, - Echo _Venus_. - Que faut dire après d’une telle infidelle, - Echo _Fi d’elle_. - - _MAGDALENIADE, by Father Pierre de St Louis._ - - -“Three years had elapsed since the parting of Immalee and the stranger, -when one evening the attention of some Spanish gentlemen, who were -walking in a public place in Madrid, was arrested by a figure that -passed them, habited in the dress of the country, (only without a -sword), and walking very slowly. They stopt by a kind of simultaneous -movement, and seemed to ask each other, with silent looks, what had been -the cause of the impression this person’s appearance had made on them. -There was nothing remarkable in his figure,--his demeanour was quiet; it -was the singular expression of his countenance which had struck them -with a sensation they could neither define or account for. - -“As they paused, the person returned alone, and walking slowly--and they -again encountered that singular expression of the features, (the eyes -particularly), which no human glance could meet unappalled. Accustomed -to look on and converse with all things revolting to nature and to -man,--for ever exploring the mad-house, the jail, or the -Inquisition,--the den of famine, the dungeon of crime, or the death-bed -of despair,--his eyes had acquired a light and a language of their -own--a light that none could gaze on, and a language that few dare -understand. - -“As he passed slowly by them, they observed two others whose attention -was apparently fixed on the same singular object, for they stood -pointing after him, and speaking to each other with gestures of strong -and obvious emotion. The curiosity of the groupe for once overcame the -restraint of Spanish reserve, and approaching the two cavaliers, they -inquired if the singular personage who had passed was not the subject of -their conversation, and the cause of the emotion which appeared to -accompany it. The others replied in the affirmative, and hinted at their -knowledge of circumstances in the character and history of that -extraordinary being that might justify even stronger marks of emotion at -his presence. This hint operated still more strongly on their -curiosity--the circle of listeners began to deepen. Some of them, it -appeared, had, or pretended to have, some information relative to this -extraordinary subject. And that kind of desultory conversation -commenced, whose principal ingredients are a plentiful proportion of -ignorance, curiosity, and fear, mingled with some small allowance of -information and truth;--that conversation, vague, unsatisfactory, but -not uninteresting, to which every speaker is welcome to contribute his -share of baseless report,--wild conjecture,--anecdote the more -incredible the better credited,--and conclusion the more falsely drawn -the more likely to carry home conviction. - -“The conversation passed very much in language incoherent as this:--“But -why, if he be what he is described, what he is known to be,--why is he -not seized by order of government?--why is he not immured in the -Inquisition?”--“He has been often in the prison of the holy -office--oftener, perhaps, than the holy fathers wished,” said another. -“But it is a well-known fact, that whatever transpired on his -examination, he was liberated almost immediately.” Another added, “That -the stranger had been in almost every prison in Europe, but had always -contrived either to defeat or defy the power in whose grasp he appeared -to be inclosed,--and to be active in his purposes of mischief in the -remotest parts of Europe at the moment he was supposed to be expiating -them in others.” Another demanded, “If it was known to what country he -belonged?” and was answered, “He is said to be a native of Ireland--(a -country that no one knows, and which the natives are particularly -reluctant to dwell in from various causes)--and his name is Melmoth.” -The Spaniard had great difficulty in expressing the _theta_, -unpronounceable by continental lips. “Another, who had an appearance of -more intelligence than the rest, added the extraordinary fact of the -stranger’s being seen in various and distant parts of the earth within a -time in which no power merely human could be supposed to traverse -them--that his marked and fearful habit was every where to seek out the -most wretched, or the most profligate, of the community among which he -flung himself--what was his object in seeking them was unknown.”--“It is -well known,” said a deep-toned voice, falling on the ears of the -startled listeners like the toll of a strong but muffled bell,--“it is -well known both to him and them.” - -“It was now twilight, but the eyes of all could distinguish the figure -of the stranger as he passed; and some even averred they could see the -ominous lustre of those eyes which never rose on human destiny but as -planets of woe. The groupe paused for some time to watch the retreat of -the figure that had produced on them the effect of the torpedo. It -departed slowly,--no one offered it molestation. - -“I have heard,” said one of the company, “that a delicious music -precedes the approach of this person when his destined victim,--the -being whom he is permitted to tempt or to torture,--is about to appear -or to approach him. I have heard a strange tale of such music being -heard; and--Holy Mary be our guide! did you ever hear such -sounds?”--“Where--what?--” and the astonished listeners took off their -hats, unclasped their mantles, “opened their lips, and drew in their -breath,” in delicious ecstasy at the sounds that floated round them. “No -wonder,” said a young gallant of the party, “no wonder that such sounds -harbinger the approach of a being so heavenly. She deals with the good -spirits; and the blessed saints alone could send such music from above -to welcome her.” As he spoke, all eyes were turned to a figure, which, -though moving among a groupe of brilliant and attractive females, -appeared the only one among them on whom the eye could rest with pure -and undivided light and love. She did not catch observation--observation -caught her, and was proud of its prize. - -“At the approach of a large party of females, there was all that anxious -and flattering preparation among the cavaliers,--all that eager -arrangement of capas, and hats, and plumes,--that characterized the -manners of a nation still half-feudal, and always gallant and -chivalrous. These preliminary movements were answered by corresponding -ones on the part of the fair and fatal host approaching. The creaking of -their large fans--the tremulous and purposely-delayed adjustment of -their floating veils, whose partial concealment flattered the -imagination beyond the most full and ostentatious disclosure of the -charms they seemed jealous of--the folds of the mantilla, of whose -graceful falls, and complicated manœuvres, and coquettish undulations, -the Spanish women know how to avail themselves so well--all these -announced an attack, which the cavaliers, according to the modes of -gallantry in that day (1683), were well prepared to meet and parry. - -“But, amid the bright host that advanced against them, there was one -whose arms were not artificial, and the effect of whose singular and -simple attractions made a strong contrast to the studied arrangements of -her associates. If her fan moved, it was only to collect air--if she -arranged her veil, it was only to hide her face--if she adjusted her -mantilla, it was but to hide that form, whose exquisite symmetry defied -the voluminous drapery of even that day to conceal it. Men of the -loosest gallantry fell back as she approached, with involuntary awe--the -libertine who looked on her was half-converted--the susceptible beheld -her as one who realized that vision of imagination that must never be -embodied here--and the unfortunate as one whose sight alone was -consolation--the old, as they gazed on her, dreamt of their youth--and -the young for the first time dreamt of love--the only love which -deserves the name--that which purity alone can inspire, and perfect -purity alone can reward. - -“As she mingled among the gay groupes that filled the place, one might -observe a certain air that distinguished her from every female -there,--not by pretension to superiority, (of that her unequalled -loveliness must have acquitted her, even to the vainest of the groupe), -but by an untainted, unsophisticated character, diffusing itself over -look and motion, and even thought--turning wildness into grace--giving -an emphasis to a single exclamation, that made polished sentences sound -trifling--for ever trespassing against etiquette with vivid and fearless -enthusiasm, and apologizing the next moment with such timid and graceful -repentance, that one doubted whether the offence or the apology were -most delightful. - -“She presented altogether a singular contrast to the measured tones, the -mincing gait, and the organized uniformity of dress, and manner, and -look, and feeling, of the females about her. The harness of art was upon -every limb and feature from their birth, and its trappings concealed or -crippled every movement which nature had designed for graceful. But in -the movement of this young female, there was a bounding elasticity, a -springiness, a luxuriant and conscious vitality, that made every action -the expression of thought; and then, as she shrunk from the disclosure, -made it the more exquisite interpreter of feeling. There was around her -a mingled light of innocence and majesty, never united but in _her_ sex. -Men may long retain, and even confirm, the character of power which -nature has stamped on their frames, but they very soon forfeit their -claim to the expression of innocence. - -“Amid the vivid and eccentric graces of a form that seemed like a comet -in the world of beauty, bound by no laws, or by laws that she alone -understood and obeyed, there was a shade of melancholy, that, to a -superficial observer, seemed transitory and assumed, perhaps as a -studied relief to the glowing colours of a picture so brilliant, but -which, to other eyes, announced, that with all the energies of intellect -occupied,--with all the instincts of sense excited,--the heart had as -yet no inmate, and wanted one. - -“The groupe who had been conversing about the stranger, felt their -attention irresistibly attracted by this object; and the low murmur of -their fearful whispers was converted into broken exclamations of delight -and wonder, as the fair vision passed them. She had not long done so, -when the stranger was seen slowly returning, seeming, as before, known -to all, but knowing none. As the female party turned, they encountered -him. His emphatic glance selected and centered in one alone. She saw him -too, recognized him, and, uttering a wild shriek, fell on the earth -senseless. - -“The tumult occasioned by this accident, which so many witnessed, and -none knew the cause of, for some moments drew off the attention of all -from the stranger--all were occupied either in assisting or inquiring -after the lady who had fainted. She was borne to her carriage by more -assistants than she needed or wished for--and just as she was lifted -into it, the voice of some one near her uttered the word “Immalee!” She -recognized the voice, and turned, with a look of anguish and a feeble -cry, towards the direction from which it proceeded. Those around her had -heard the sound,--but as they did not understand its meaning, or know to -whom it was addressed, they ascribed the lady’s emotion to -indisposition, and hastened to place her in her carriage. It drove away, -but the stranger pursued its course with his eyes--the company -dispersed, he remained alone--twilight faded into darkness--he appeared -not to notice the change--a few still continued lingering at the -extremity of the walk to mark him--they were wholly unmarked by him. - -“One who remained the longest said, that he saw him use the action of -one who wipes away a tear hastily. To his eyes the tear of penitence was -denied for ever. Could this have been the tear of passion? If so, how -much woe did it announce to its object! - - - - -CHAPTER XX. - - Oh what was love made for, if ’tis not the same - Through joy and through torment, through glory and shame! - I know not, I ask not, what guilt’s in thine heart, - I but know I must love thee, whatever thou art. - - MOORE. - - -“The next day, the young female who had excited so much interest the -preceding evening, was to quit Madrid, to pass a few weeks at a villa -belonging to her family, at a short distance from the city. That family, -including all the company, consisted of her mother Donna Clara di -Aliaga, the wife of a wealthy merchant, who was monthly expected to -return from the Indies; her brother Don Fernan di Aliaga, and several -servants; for these wealthy citizens, conscious of their opulence and -formerly high descent, piqued themselves upon travelling with no less -ceremony and pompous tardiness than accompanied the progress of a -grandee. So the old square-built, lumbering carriage, moved on like a -hearse; the coachman sat fast asleep on the box; and the six black -horses crawled at a pace like the progress of time when he visits -affliction. Beside the carriage rode Fernan di Aliaga and his servants, -with umbrellas and huge spectacles; and within it were placed Donna -Clara and her daughter. The interior of this arrangement was the -counterpart of its external appearance,--all announced dullness, -formality, and withering monotony. - -“Donna Clara was a woman of a cold and grave temper, with all the -solemnity of a Spaniard, and all the austerity of a bigot. Don Fernan -presented that union of fiery passion and saturnic manners not unusual -among Spaniards. His dull and selfish pride was wounded by the -recollection of his family having been in trade; and, looking on the -unrivalled beauty of his sister as a possible means of his obtaining an -alliance with a family of rank, he viewed her with that kind of selfish -partiality as little honourable to him who feels it, as to her who was -its object. - -“And it was amid such beings that the vivid and susceptible Immalee, the -daughter of nature, “the gay creature of the elements,” was doomed to -wither away the richly-coloured and exquisitely-scented flower of an -existence so ungenially transplanted. Her singular destiny seemed to -have removed her from a physical wilderness, to place her in a moral -one. And, perhaps, her last state was worse than her first. - -“It is certain that the gloomiest prospect presents nothing so chilling -as the aspect of human faces, in which we try in vain to trace one -corresponding expression; and the sterility of nature itself is luxury -compared to the sterility of human hearts, which communicate all the -desolation they feel. - -“They had been some time on their way, when Donna Clara, who never spoke -till after a long preface of silence, perhaps to give what she said a -weight it might otherwise have wanted, said, with oracular deliberation, -“Daughter, I hear you fainted in the public walks last night--did you -meet with any thing that surprised or terrified you?”--“No, -Madam.”--“What, then, could be the cause of the emotion you betrayed at -the sight, as I am told--I know nothing--of a personage of extraordinary -demeanour?”--“Oh, I cannot, dare not tell!” said Isidora, dropping her -veil over her burning cheek. Then the irrepressible ingenuousness of her -former nature, rushing over her heart and frame like a flood, she sunk -from the cushion on which she sat at Donna Clara’s feet, exclaiming, -“Oh, mother, I will tell you all!”--“No!” said Donna Clara, repelling -her with a cold feeling of offended pride; “no!--there is no occasion. I -seek no confidence withheld and bestowed in the same breath; nor do I -like these violent emotions--they are unmaidenly. Your duties as a child -are easily understood--they are merely perfect obedience, profound -submission, and unbroken silence, except when you are addressed by me, -your brother, or Father Jose. Surely no duties were ever more easily -performed--rise, then, and cease to weep. If your conscience disturbs -you, accuse yourself to Father Jose, who will, no doubt, inflict a -penance proportioned to the enormity of your offence. I trust only he -will not err on the side of indulgence.” And so saying, Donna Clara, who -had never uttered so long a speech before, reclined back on her cushion, -and began to tell her beads with much devotion, till the arrival of the -carriage at its destination awoke her from a profound and peaceful -sleep. - -“It was near noon, and dinner in a cool low apartment near the garden -awaited only the approach of Father Jose, the confessor. He arrived -at length. He was a man of an imposing figure, mounted on a stately -mule. His features, at first view, bore strong traces of thought; -but, on closer examination, those traces seemed rather the result of -physical conformation, than of any intellectual exercise. The channel -was open, but the stream had not been directed there. However, though -defective in education, and somewhat narrow in mind, Father Jose was -a good man, and meant well. He loved power, and he was devoted to -the interests of the Catholic church; but he had frequently doubts, -(which he kept to himself), of the absolute necessity of celibacy, -and he felt (strange effect!) a chill all over him when he heard of -the fires of an _auto da fe_. Dinner was concluded; the fruit and -wine, the latter untasted by the females, were on the table,--the -choicest of them placed before Father Jose,--when Isidora, after a -profound reverence to her mother and the priest, retired, as usual, -to her apartment. Donna Clara turned to the confessor with a look -that demanded to be answered. “It is her hour for siesta,” said the -priest, helping himself to a bunch of grapes. “No, Father, no!” said -Donna Clara sadly; “her maid informs me she does not retire to sleep. -She was, alas! too well accustomed to that burning climate where she -was lost in her infancy, to feel the heat as a Christian should. No, -she retires neither to pray or sleep, after the devout custom of -Spanish women, but, I fear, to”---- “To do what?” said the priest, -with horror in his voice--“To think, I fear,” said Donna Clara; “for -often I observe, on her return, the traces of tears on her face. I -tremble, Father, lest those tears be shed for that heathen land, that -region of Satan, where her youth was past.”--“I’ll give her a penance,” -said Father Jose, “that will save her the trouble of shedding tears -on the score of memory at least--these grapes are delicious.”--“But, -Father,” pursued Donna Clara, with all the weak but restless anxiety of -a superstitious mind, “though you have made me easy on that subject, -I still am wretched. Oh, Father, how she will talk sometimes!--like a -creature self-taught, that needed neither director or confessor but -her own heart.”--“How!” exclaimed Father Jose, “need neither confessor -or director!--she must be beside herself.”--“Oh, Father,” continued -Donna Clara, “she will say things in her mild and unanswerable manner, -that, armed with all my authority, I”---- “How--how is that?” said the -priest, in a tone of severity--“does she deny any of the tenets of the -holy Catholic church?”--“No! no! no!” said the terrified Donna Clara -crossing herself. “How then?”--“Why, she speaks in a manner in which -I never heard you, reverend Father, or any of the reverend brethren, -whom my devotion to the holy church has led me to hear, speak before. -It is in vain I tell her that true religion consists in hearing -mass--in going to confession--in performing penance--in observing -the fasts and vigils--in undergoing mortification and abstinence--in -believing all that the holy church teaches--and hating, detesting, -abhorring, and execrating----” “Enough, daughter--enough,” said Father -Jose; “there can be no doubt of the orthodoxy of your creed?”--“I -trust not, holy Father,” said the anxious Donna Clara. “I were an -infidel to doubt it,” interposed the priest; “I might as well deny -this fruit to be exquisite, or this glass of Malaga to be worthy the -table of his Holiness the Pope, if he feasted all the Cardinals. But -how, daughter, as touching the supposed or apprehended defalcations -in Donna Isidora’s creed?”--“Holy Father, I have already explained my -own religious sentiments.”--“Yes--yes--we have had enough of them; now -for your daughter’s.”--“She will sometimes say,” said Donna Clara, -bursting into tears--“she will say, but never till greatly urged, that -religion ought to be a system whose spirit was universal love. Do you -understand any thing of that, Father?”--“Humph--humph!”--“That it must -be something that bound all who professed it to habits of benevolence, -gentleness, and humility, under every difference of creed and of -form.”--“Humph--humph!”--“Father,” said Donna Clara, a little piqued -at the apparent indifference with which Father Jose listened to her -communications, and resolved to rouse him by some terrific evidence of -the truth of her suspicions, “Father, I have heard her dare to express -a hope that the heretics in the train of the English ambassador might -not be everlastingly”---- “Hush!--I must not hear such sounds, or it -might be my duty to take severer notice of these lapses. However, -daughter,” continued Father Jose, “thus far I will venture for your -consolation. As sure as this fine peach is in my hand--another, if you -please--and as sure as I shall finish this other glass of Malaga”--here -a long pause attested the fulfilment of the pledge--“so sure”--and -Father Jose turned the inverted glass on the table--“Madonna Isidora -has--has the elements of a Christian in her, however improbable it may -seem to you--I swear it to you by the habit I wear;--for the rest, a -little penance--a----I shall consider of it. And now, daughter, when -your son Don Fernan has finished his siesta,--as there is no reason to -suspect him of retiring to _think_,--please to inform him I am ready to -continue the game of chess which we commenced four months ago. I have -pushed my pawn to the last square but one, and the next step gives me -a queen.”--“Has the game continued so long?” said Donna Clara. “Long!” -repeated the priest, “Aye, and may continue much longer--we have never -played more than three hours a-day on an average.” - -“He then retired to sleep, and the evening was passed by the priest and -Don Fernan, in profound silence at their chess--by Donna Clara, in -silence equally profound, at her tapestry--and by Isidora at the -casement, which the intolerable heat had compelled them to leave open, -in gazing at the lustre of the moon, and inhaling the odour of the -tube-rose, and watching the expanding leaves of the night-blowing -cereus. The physical luxuries of her former existence seemed renewed by -these objects. The intense blue of the heavens, and the burning planet -that stood in sole glory in their centre, might have vied with all that -lavish and refulgent opulence of light in which nature arrays an Indian -night. Below, too, there were flowers and fragrance; colours, like -veiled beauty, mellowed, not hid; and dews that hung on every leaf, -trembling and sparkling like the tears of spirits, that wept to take -leave of the flowers. - -“The breeze, indeed, though redolent of the breath of the orange -blossom, the jasmine, and the rose, had not the rich and balmy odour -that scents the Indian air by night. - - Ενθα νησον μακαρων Αυραι περιπνεουσιν. - -“Except this, what was not there that might not renew the delicious -dream of her former existence, and make her believe herself again the -queen of that fairy isle?--One image was wanting--an image whose absence -made that paradise of islands, and all the odorous and flowery luxury of -a moonlight garden in Spain, alike deserts to her. In her heart alone -could she hope to meet that image,--to herself alone did she dare to -repeat his name, and those wild and sweet songs of his country(20) which -he had taught her in his happier moods. And so strange was the contrast -between her former and present existence,--so subdued was she by -constraint and coldness,--so often had she been told that every thing -she did, said, or thought, was wrong,--that she began to yield up the -evidences of her senses, to avoid the perpetual persecutions of teazing -and imperious mediocrity, and considered the appearance of the stranger -as one of those visions that formed the trouble and joy of her dreamy -and illusive existence. - - (20) Ireland. - -“I am surprised, sister,” said Fernan, whom Father Jose’s gaining his -queen had put in unusually bad humour--“I am surprised that you never -busy yourself, as young maidens use, at your needle, or in some quaint -niceties of your sex.”--“Or in reading some devout book,” said Donna -Clara, raising her eyes one moment from her tapestry, and then dropping -them again; “there is the legend of that (21)Polish saint, born, like -_her_, in a land of darkness, yet chosen to be a vessel----I have -forgot his name, reverend Father.”--“Check to the king,” said Father -Jose in reply. “You regard nothing but watching a few flowers, or -hanging over your lute, or gazing at the moon,” continued Fernan, vexed -alike at the success of his antagonist and the silence of Isidora. “She -is eminent in alms-deeds and works of charity,” said the good-natured -priest. “I was summoned to a miserable hovel near your villa, Madonna -Clara, to a dying sinner, a beggar rotting on rotten straw!”--“Jesu!” -cried Donna Clara with involuntary horror, “I washed the feet of -thirteen beggars, on my knees in my father’s hall, the week before my -marriage with her honoured father, and I never could abide the sight -of a beggar since.”--“Associations are sometimes indelibly strong,” -said the priest drily;--then he added, “I went as was my duty, but your -daughter was there before me. She had gone uncalled, and was uttering -the sweetest words of consolation from a homily, which a certain poor -priest, who shall be nameless, had lent her from his humble store.” - - (21) I have read the legend of this Polish saint, which is circulated - in Dublin, and find recorded among the indisputable proofs of his - vocation, that he infallibly swooned if an indecent expression was - uttered in his presence--_when in his nurse’s arms!_ - -“Isidora blushed at this anonymous vanity, while she mildly smiled or -wept at the harassings of Don Fernan, and the heartless austerity of -her mother. “I heard her as I entered the hovel; and, by the habit -I wear, I paused on the threshold with delight. Her first words -were----Check-mate!” he exclaimed, forgetting his homily in his -triumph, and pointing, with appealing eye, and emphatic finger, to the -desperate state of his adversary’s king. “That was a very extraordinary -exclamation!” said the literal Donna Clara, who had never raised her -eyes from her work.--“I did not think my daughter was so fond of chess -as to burst into the house of a dying beggar with such a phrase in her -mouth.”--“It was I said it, Madonna,” said the priest, reverting to his -game, on which he hung with soul and eye intent on his recent victory. -“Holy saints!” said Donna Clara, still more and more perplexed, “I -thought the usual phrase on such occasions was _pax vobiscum_, or”---- -Before Father Jose could reply, a shriek from Isidora pierced the ears -of every one. All gathered round her in a moment, reinforced by four -female attendants and two pages, whom the unusual sound had summoned -from the antichamber. Isidora had not fainted; she still stood among -them pale as death, speechless, her eye wandering round the groupe that -encircled her, without seeming to distinguish them. But she retained -that presence of mind which never deserts woman where a secret is -to be guarded, and she neither pointed with finger, or glanced with -eye, towards the casement, where the cause of her alarm had presented -itself. Pressed with a thousand questions, she appeared incapable of -answering them, and, declining assistance, leaned against the casement -for support. - -“Donna Clara was now advancing with measured step to proffer a bottle of -curious essences, which she drew from a pocket of a depth beyond -calculation, when one of the female attendants, aware of her favourite -habits, proposed reviving her by the scent of the flowers that clustered -round the frame of the casement; and collecting a handful of roses, -offered them to Isidora. The sight and scent of these beautiful flowers, -revived the former associations of Isidora; and, waving away her -attendant, she exclaimed, “There are no roses like those which -surrounded me when he beheld me first!”--“He!--who, daughter?” said the -alarmed Donna Clara. “Speak, I charge you, sister,” said the irritable -Fernan, “to whom do you allude?”--“She raves,” said the priest, whose -habitual penetration discovered there was a secret,--and whose -professional jealousy decided that no one, not mother or brother, should -share it with him; “she raves--ye are to blame--forbear to hang round -and to question her. Madonna, retire to rest, and the saints watch round -your bed!” Isidora, bending thankfully for this permission, retired to -her apartment; and father Jose for an hour appeared to contend with the -suspicious fears of Donna Clara, and the sullen irritability of Fernan, -merely that he might induce them, in the heat of controversy, to betray -all they knew or dreaded, that he might strengthen his own conjectures, -and establish his own power by the discovery. - - “Scire volunt secreta domus, et inde timeri.” - -And this desire is not only natural but necessary, in a being from whose -heart his profession has torn every tie of nature and of passion; and if -it generates malignity, ambition, and the wish for mischief, it is the -system, not the individual, we must blame. - -“Madonna,” said the Father, “you are always urging your zeal for the -Catholic church--and you, Senhor, are always reminding me of the honour -of your family--I am anxious for both--and how can the interests of both -be better secured than by Donna Isidora taking the veil?”--“The wish of -my soul!” cried Donna Clara, clasping her hands, and closing her eyes, -as if she witnessed her daughter’s apotheosis. “I will never hear of it, -Father,” said Fernan; “my sister’s beauty and wealth entitle _me_ to -claim alliance with the first families in Spain--their baboon shapes and -copper-coloured visages might be redeemed for a century by such a graft -on the stock, and the blood of which they boast would not be -impoverished by a transfusion of the _aurum potabile_ of ours into -it.”--“You forget, son,” said the priest, “the extraordinary -circumstances attendant on the early part of your sister’s life. There -are many of our Catholic nobility who would rather see the black blood -of the banished Moors, or the proscribed Jews, flow in the veins of -their descendants, than that of one who”---- Here a mysterious whisper -drew from Donna Clara a shudder of distress and consternation, and from -her son an impatient motion of angry incredulity. “I do not credit a -word of it,” said the latter; “you wish that my sister should take the -veil, and therefore you credit and circulate the monstrous -invention.”--“Take heed, son, I conjure you,” said the trembling Donna -Clara. “Take you heed, Madam, that you do not sacrifice your daughter to -an unfounded and incredible fiction.”--“Fiction!” repeated Father -Jose--“Senhor, I forgive your illiberal reflections on me,--but let me -remind you, that the same immunity will not be extended to the insult -you offer to the Catholic faith.”--“Reverend Father,” said the terrified -Fernan, “the Catholic church has not a more devoted and unworthy -professor on earth than myself.”--“I do believe the latter,” said the -priest. “You admit all that the holy church teaches to be irrefragably -true?”--“To be sure I do.”--“Then you must admit that the islands in the -Indian seas are particularly under the influence of the devil?”--“I do, -if the church requires me so to believe.”--“And that he possessed a -peculiar sway over that island where your sister was lost in her -infancy?”--“I do not see how that follows,” said Fernan, making a sudden -stand at this premise of the Sorites. “Not see how that follows!” -repeated Father Jose, crossing himself; - - “Excæcavit oculos eorum ne viderent. - -But why waste I my Latin and logic on thee, who art incapable of both? -Mark me, I will use but one unanswerable argument, the which whoso -gainsayeth is a--gainsayer--that’s all. The Inquisition at Goa knows the -truth of what I have asserted, and who will dare deny it now?”--“Not -I!--not I!” exclaimed Donna Clara; “nor, I am sure, will this stubborn -boy. Son, I adjure you, make haste to believe what the reverend Father -has told you.”--“I am believing as fast as I can,” answered Don Fernan, -in the tone of one who is reluctantly swallowing a distasteful mess; -“but my faith will be choaked if you don’t allow it time to swallow. As -for digestion,” he muttered, “let that come when it pleases -God.”--“Daughter,” said the priest, who well knew the _mollia tempora -fandi_, and saw that the sullen and angry Fernan could not well bear -more at present; “daughter, it is enough--we must lead with gentleness -those whose steps find stumbling-blocks in the paths of grace. Pray with -me, daughter, that your son’s eyes may yet be opened to the glory and -felicity of his sister’s vocation to a state where the exhaustless -copiousness of divine benignity places the happy inmates above all those -mean and mundane anxieties, those petty and local wants, -which----Ah!--hem--verily I feel some of those wants myself at this -moment. I am hoarse with speaking; and the intense heat of this night -hath so exhausted my strength, that methinks the wing of a partridge -would be no unseasonable refreshment.” - -“At a sign from Donna Clara, a salver with wine appeared, and a -partridge that might have provoked the French prelate to renew his meal -once more, spite of his horror of _toujours perdrix_. “See, daughter, -see how much I am exhausted in this distressing controversy--well may I -say, the zeal of thine house hath eaten me up.”--“Then you and the zeal -of the house will soon be _quit_,” muttered Fernan as he retired. And -drawing the folds of his mantle over his shoulder, he threw a glance of -wonder at the happy facility with which the priest discussed the wings -and breast of his favourite bird,--whispering alternately words of -admonition to Donna Clara, and muttering something about the omission of -pimento and lemon. - -“Father,” said Don Fernan, stalking back from the door, and fronting -the priest--“Father, I have a favour to ask of you.”--“Glad, were -it in my power to comply with it,” said Father Jose, turning over -the skeleton of the fowl; “but you see here is only the thigh, and -that somewhat bare.”--“It is not of that I speak or think, reverend -Father,” said Fernan, with a smile; “I have but to request, that you -will not renew the subject of my sister’s vocation till the return -of my father.”--“Certainly not, son, certainly not. Ah! you know the -time to ask a favour--you know I never could refuse you at a moment -like this, when my heart is warmed, and softened, and expanded, -by--by--by the evidences of your contrition and humiliation, and all -that your devout mother, and your zealous spiritual friend, could hope -or wish for. In truth, it overcomes me--these tears--I do not often -weep but on occasions like these, and then I weep abundantly, and am -compelled to recruit my lack of moisture thus.”--“Fetch more wine,” -said Donna Clara.--The order was obeyed.--“Good night, Father,” said -Don Fernan.--“The saints watch round you, my son! Oh I am exhausted!--I -sink in this struggle! The night is hot, and requires wine to slake my -thirst--and wine is a provocative, and requires food to take away its -deleterious and damnable qualities--and food, especially partridge, -which is a hot and stimulative nutritive, requires drink again to -absorb or neutralize its exciting qualities. Observe me, Donna Clara--I -speak as to the learned. There is stimulation, and there is absorption; -the causes of which are manifold, and the effects such as----I am not -bound to tell you at present.”--“Reverend Father,” said the admiring -Donna Clara, not guessing, in the least, from what source all this -eloquence flowed, “I trespassed on your time merely to ask a favour -also.”--“Ask and ’tis granted,” said Father Jose, with a protrusion of -his foot as proud as that of Sixtus himself. “It is merely to know, -will not all the inhabitants of those accursed Indian isles be damned -everlastingly?”--“Damned everlastingly, and without doubt,” returned -the priest. “Now my mind is easy,” rejoined the lady, “and I shall -sleep in peace to-night.” - -“Sleep, however, did not visit her so soon as she expected, for an hour -after she knocked at Father Jose’s door, repeating, “Damned to all -eternity, Father, did you not say?”--“Be damned to all eternity!” said -the priest, tossing on his feverish bed, and dreaming, in the intervals -of his troubled sleep, of Don Fernan coming to confession with a drawn -sword, and Donna Clara with a bottle of Xeres in her hand, which she -swallowed at a draught, while his parched lips were gaping for a drop in -vain,--and of the Inquisition being established in an island off the -coast of Bengal, and a huge partridge seated with a cap on at the end of -a table covered with black, as chief Inquisitor,--and various and -monstrous chimeras, the abortive births of repletion and indigestion. - -“Donna Clara, catching only the last words, returned to her apartment -with light step and gladdened heart, and, full of pious consolation, -renewed her devotions before the image of the virgin in her apartment, -at each side of whose niche two wax tapers were burning, till the cool -morning breeze made it possible for her to retire with some hope of -rest. - -“Isidora, in her apartment, was equally sleepless; and she, too, had -prostrated herself before the sacred image, but with different thoughts. -Her feverish and dreamy existence, composed of wild and irreconcileable -contrasts between the forms of the present, and the visions of the -past,--the difference between all that she felt within, and all that she -saw around her,--between the impassioned life of recollection, and the -monotonous one of reality,--was becoming too much for a heart bursting -with undirected sensibilities, and a head giddy from vicissitudes that -would have deeply tried much firmer faculties. - -“She remained for some time repeating the usual number of ave’s, to -which she added the litany of the Virgin, without any corresponding -impulses of solace or illumination, till at length, feeling that her -prayers were not the expressions of her heart, and dreading this -heterodoxy of the heart more than the violation of the ritual, she -ventured to address the image of the Virgin in language of her own. - -“Mild and beautiful Spirit!” she cried, prostrating herself before the -figure--“you whose lips alone have smiled on me since I reached your -Christian land,--you whose countenance I have sometimes imagined to -belong to those who dwelt in the stars of my own Indian sky,--hear me, -and be not angry with me! Let me lose all feeling of my present -existence, or all memory of the past! Why do my former thoughts return? -They once made me happy, now they are thorns in my heart! Why do they -retain their power since their nature is altered? I cannot be what I -was--Oh, let me then no longer remember it! Let me, if possible, see, -feel, and think as those around me do! Alas! I feel it is much easier to -descend to their level than to raise them to mine. Time, constraint, and -dullness, may do much for me, but what time could ever operate such a -change on them! It would be like looking for the pearls at the bottom of -the stagnant ponds which art has dug in their gardens. No, mother of the -Deity! divine and mysterious woman, no!--they never shall see another -throb of my burning heart. Let it consume in its own fires before a drop -of their cold compassion extinguishes them! Mother divine! are not -burning hearts, then, worthiest of thee?--and does not the love of -nature assimilate itself to the love of God! True, we may love without -religion, but can we be religious without love? Yet, mother divine! dry -up my heart, since there is no longer a channel for its streams to flow -through!--or turn all those streams into the river, narrow and cold, -that holds its course on to eternity! Why should I think or feel, since -life requires only duties that no feeling suggests, and apathy that no -reflection disturbs? Here let me rest!--it is indeed the end of -enjoyment, but it is also the end of suffering; and a thousand tears are -a price too dear for the single smile which is sold for them in the -commerce of life. Alas! it is better to wander in perpetual sterility -than to be tortured with the remembrance of flowers that have withered, -and odours that have died for ever.” Then a gush of uncontroulable -emotion overwhelming her, she again bowed before the Virgin. “Yes, help -me to banish every image from my soul but his--his alone! Let my heart -be like this lonely apartment, consecrated by the presence of one sole -image, and illuminated only by that light which affection kindles before -the object of its adoration, and worships it by for ever!” - -“In an agony of enthusiasm she continued to kneel before the image; and -when she rose, the silence of her apartment, and the calm smile of the -celestial figure, seemed at once a contrast and a reproach to this -excess of morbid indulgence. That smile appeared to her like a frown. It -is certain, that in agitation we can feel no solace from features that -express only profound tranquillity. We would rather wish corresponding -agitation, even hostility--any thing but a calm that neutralizes and -absorbs us. It is the answer of the rock to the wave--we collect, foam, -dash, and disperse ourselves against it, and retire broken, shattered, -and murmuring to the echoes of our disappointment. - -“From the tranquil and hopeless aspect of the divinity, smiling on the -misery it neither consoles or relieves, and intimating in that smile the -profound and pulseless apathy of inaccessible elevation, coldly hinting -that humanity must cease to be, before it can cease to suffer--from this -the sufferer rushed for consolation to nature, whose ceaseless agitation -seems to correspond with the vicissitudes of human destiny and the -emotions of the human heart--whose alternation of storms and calms,--of -clouds and sun-light,--of terrors and delights--seems to keep a kind of -mysterious measure of ineffable harmony with that instrument whose -chords are doomed alternately to the thrill of agony and rapture, till -the hand of death sweeps over all the strings, and silences them for -ever.--With such a feeling, Isidora leaned against her casement, gasped -for a breath of air, which the burning night did not grant, and thought -how, on such a night in her Indian isle, she could plunge into the -stream shaded by her beloved tamarind, or even venture amid the still -and silvery waves of the ocean, laughing at the broken beams of the -moonlight, as her light form dimpled the waters--snatching with smiling -delight the brilliant, tortuous, and enamelled shells that seemed to woo -her white footsteps as she turned to the shore. Now all was different. -The duties of the bath had been performed, but with a parade of soaps, -perfumes, and, above all, attendants, who, though of her own sex, gave -Isidora an unspeakable degree of disgust at the operation. The sponges -and odours sickened her unsophisticated senses, and the presence of -another human being seemed to close up every pore. - -“She had felt no refreshment from the bath, or from her prayers--she -sought it at her casement, but there also in vain. The moon was as -bright as the sun of colder climates, and the heavens were all in a -blaze with her light. She seemed like a gallant vessel ploughing the -bright and trackless ocean alone, while a thousand stars burned in the -wake of her quiet glory, like attendant vessels pursuing their course to -undiscovered worlds, and pointing them out to the mortal eye that -lingered on their course, and loved their light. - -“Such was the scene above, but what a contrast to the scene below! The -glorious and unbounded light fell on an inclosure of stiff parterres, -cropped myrtles and orange-trees in tubs, and quadrangular ponds, and -bowers of trellis-work, and nature tortured a thousand ways, and -indignant and repulsive under her tortures every way. - -“Isidora looked and wept. Tears had now become her language when -alone--it was a language she dared not utter before her family. Suddenly -she saw one of the moonlight alleys darkened by an approaching figure. -It advanced--it uttered her name--the name she remembered and loved--the -name of Immalee! “Ah!” she exclaimed, leaning from the casement, “is -there then one who recognizes me by that name?”--“It is only by that -name I can address you,” answered the voice of the stranger--“I have not -yet the honour of being acquainted with the name your Christian friends -have given you.”--“They call me Isidora, but do you still call me -Immalee. But how is it,” she added in a trembling voice,--her fears for -his safety overcoming all her sudden and innocent joy at his sight--“how -is it that you are here?--here, where no human being is ever beheld but -the inmates of the mansion--how did you cross the garden wall?--how did -you come from India? Oh! retire for your own safety! I am among those -whom I cannot trust or love. My mother is severe--my brother is violent. -Oh! how did you obtain entrance into the garden?--How is it,” she added -in a broken voice, “that you risk so much to see one whom you have -forgotten so long?”--“Fair Neophyte, beautiful Christian,” answered the -stranger, with a diabolical sneer, “be it known to you that I regard -bolts, and bars, and walls, as much as I did the breakers and rocks of -your Indian isle--that I can go where, and retire when I please, without -leave asked or taken of your brother’s mastiffs, or Toledos, or -spring-guns, and in utter defiance of your mother’s advanced guard of -duennas, armed in spectacles, and flanked with a double ammunition of -rosaries, with beads as large as----” “Hush!--hush!--do not utter such -impious sounds--I am taught to revere those holy things. But is it -you?--and did I indeed see you last night, or was it a thought such as -visits me in dreams, and wraps me again in visions of that beautiful and -blessed isle where first I----Oh that I never had seen you!”--“Lovely -Christian! be reconciled to your horrible destiny. You saw me last -night--I crossed your path twice when you were sparkling among the -brightest and most beautiful of all Madrid. It was me you saw--I -rivetted your eye--I transfixed your slender frame as with a flash of -lightning--you fell fainting and withered under my burning glance. It -was me you saw--me, the disturber of your angelical existence in that -isle of paradise--the hunter of your form and your steps, even amid the -complicated and artificial tracks in which you have been concealed by -the false forms of the existence you have embraced!”--“Embraced!--Oh no! -they seized on me--they dragged me here--they made me a Christian. They -told me all was for my salvation, for my happiness here and -hereafter--and I trust it will, for I have been so miserable ever since, -that I ought to be happy somewhere.”--“Happy,” repeated the stranger -with his withering sneer--“and are you not happy now? The delicacy of -your exquisite frame is no longer exposed to the rage of the -elements--the fine and feminine luxury of your taste is solicited and -indulged by a thousand inventions of art--your bed is of down--your -chamber hung with tapestry. Whether the moon be bright or dark, six wax -tapers burn in your chamber all night. Whether the skies be bright or -cloudy,--whether the earth be clothed with flowers, deformed with -tempests,--the art of the limner has surrounded you with “a new heaven -and a new earth;” and you may bask in suns that never set, while the -heavens are dark to other eyes,--and luxuriate amid landscapes and -flowers, while half your fellow-creatures are perishing amid snows and -tempests!” (Such was the overflowing acrimony of this being, that he -could not speak of the beneficence of nature, or the luxuries of art, -without interweaving something that seemed like a satire on, or a scorn -of both.) “You also have intellectual beings to converse with instead of -the chirpings of loxias, and the chatterings of monkeys.”--“I have not -found the conversation I encounter much more intelligible or -significant,” murmured Isidora, but the stranger did not appear to hear -her. “You are surrounded by every thing that can flatter the senses, -intoxicate the imagination, or expand the heart. All these indulgences -must make you forget the voluptuous but unrefined liberty of your former -existence.”--“The birds in my mother’s cages,” said Isidora, “are for -ever pecking at their gilded bars, and trampling on the clear seeds and -limpid water they are supplied with--would they not rather rest in the -mossy trunk of a doddered oak, and drink of whatever stream they met, -and be at liberty, at all the risk of poorer food and fouler -drink--would they not rather do any thing than break their bills against -gilded wires?”--“Then you do not feel your new existence in this -Christian land so likely to surfeit you with delight as you once -thought? For shame, Immalee--shame on your ingratitude and caprice! Do -you remember when from your Indian isle you caught a glimpse of the -Christian worship, and were entranced at the sight?”--“I remember all -that ever passed in that isle. My life formerly was all -anticipation,--now it is all retrospection. _The life of the happy is -all hopes,--that of the unfortunate all memory._ Yes, I remember -catching a glimpse of that religion so beautiful and pure; and when they -brought me to a Christian land, I thought I should have found them all -Christians.”--“And what did you find them, then, Immalee?”--“Only -Catholics.”--“Are you aware of the danger of the words you utter? Do you -know that in this country to hint a doubt of Catholicism and -Christianity being the same, would consign you to the flames as a -heretic incorrigible? Your mother, so lately known to you as a mother, -would bind your hands when the covered litter came for its victim; and -your father, though he has never yet beheld you, would buy with his last -ducat the faggots that were to consume you to ashes; and all your -relations in their gala robes would shout their hallelujahs to your -dying screams of torture. Do you know that the Christianity of these -countries is diametrically opposite to the Christianity of that world of -which you caught a gleam, and which you may see recorded in the pages of -your Bible, if you are permitted to read it?” - -“Isidora wept, and confessed she had not found Christianity what -she had at first believed it; but with her wild and eccentric -ingenuousness, she accused herself the next moment of her -confession,--and she added, “I am so ignorant in this new world,--I -have so much to learn,--my senses so often deceive me,--and my habits -and perceptions so different from what they ought to be--I mean from -what those around me are--that I should not speak or think but as I -am taught. Perhaps, after some years of instruction and suffering, I -may be able to discover that happiness cannot exist in this new world, -and Christianity is not so remote from Catholicism as it appears to -me now.”--“And have you not found yourself happy in this new world -of intelligence and luxury?” said Melmoth, in a tone of involuntary -softness. “I have at times.”--“What times?”--“When the weary day -was over, and my dreams bore me back to that island of enchantment. -Sleep is to me like some bark rowed by visionary pilots, that wafts -me to shores of beauty and blessedness,--and all night long I revel -in my dreams with spirits. Again I live among flowers and odours--a -thousand voices sing to me from the brooks and the breezes--the air -is all alive and eloquent with invisible melodists--I walk amid a -breathing atmosphere, and living and loving inanimation--blossoms that -shed themselves beneath my steps--and streams that tremble to kiss my -feet, and then retire; and then return again, wasting themselves in -fondness before me, and touching me, as my lips press the holy images -they have taught me to worship here!”--“Does no other image ever visit -your dreams, Immalee?”--“I need not tell you,” said Isidora, with -that singular mixture of natural firmness, and partial obscuration of -intellect,--the combined result of her original and native character, -and extraordinary circumstances of her early existence--“I need not -tell you--you know you are with me every night!”--“Me?”--“Yes, you; -you are for ever in that canoe that bears me to the Indian isle--you -gaze on me, but your expression is so changed, that I dare not speak -to you--we fly over the seas in a moment, but you are for ever at the -helm, though you never land--the moment the paradise isle appears, you -disappear; and as we return, the ocean is all dark, and our course is -as dark and swift as the storm that sweeps them--you look at me, but -never speak--Oh yes! you are with me every night!”--“But, Immalee, -these are all dreams--idle dreams. _I_ row you over the Indian seas -from Spain!--this is all a vision of your imagination.”--“Is it a dream -that I see you now?” said Isidora--“is it a dream that I talk with -you?--Tell me, for my senses are bewildered; and it appears to me no -less strange, that you should be here in Spain, than that I should be -in my native island. Alas! in the life that I now lead, dreams have -become realities, and realities seem only like dreams. How is it you -are here, if indeed you are here?--how is it that you have wandered -so far to see me? How many oceans you must have crossed, how many -isles you must have seen, and none like that where I first beheld -you! But is it you indeed I behold? I thought I saw you last night, -but I had rather trust even my dreams than my senses. I believed you -only a visitor of that isle of visions, and a haunter of the visions -that recall it--but are you in truth a living being, and one whom -I may hope to behold in this land of cold realities and Christian -horrors?”--“Beautiful Immalee, or Isidora, or whatever other name -your Indian worshippers, or Christian god-fathers and god-mothers, -have called you by, I pray you listen to me, while I expound a few -mysteries to you.” And Melmoth, as he spoke, flung himself on a bed -of hyacinths and tulips that displayed their glowing flowers, and -sent up their odorous breath right under Isidora’s casement. “Oh you -will destroy my flowers!” cried she, while a reminiscence of her -former picturesque existence, when flowers were the companions alike -of her imagination and her pure heart, awoke her exclamation. “It is -my vocation--I pray you pardon me!” said Melmoth, as he basked on the -crushed flowers, and darted his withering sneer and scowling glance -at Isidora. “I am commissioned to trample on and bruise every flower -in the natural and moral world--hyacinths, hearts, and bagatelles -of that kind, just as they occur. And now, Donna Isidora, with as -long an _et cetera_ as you or your sponsors could wish, and with no -possible offence to the herald, here I am to-night--and where I shall -be to-morrow night, depends on your choice. I would as soon be on the -Indian seas, where your dreams send me rowing every night, or crashing -through the ice near the Poles, or ploughing with my naked corse, (if -corses have feeling), through the billows of that ocean where I must -one day (a day that has neither sun or moon, neither commencement or -termination), plough forever, and reap despair!”--“Hush!--hush!--Oh -forbear such horrid sounds! Are you indeed he whom I saw in the isle? -Are you he, inwoven ever since that moment with my prayers, my hopes, -my heart? Are you that being upon whom hope subsisted, when life itself -was failing? On my passage to this Christian land, I suffered much. I -was so ill you would have pitied me--the clothes they put on me--the -language they made me speak--the religion they made me believe--the -country they brought me to--Oh _you_!--you alone!--the thought--the -image of you, could alone have supported me! I loved, and to love is -to live. Amid the disruption of every natural tie,--amid the loss -of that delicious existence which seems a dream, and which still -fills my dreams, and makes sleep a second existence,--I have thought -of you--have dreamt of you--have loved you!”--“Loved me?--no being -yet loved me but pledged me in tears.”--“And have I not wept?” said -Isidora--“believe these tears--they are not the first I have shed, nor -I fear will be the last, since I owe the first to you.” And she wept as -she spoke. “Well,” said the wanderer, with a bitter and self-satirizing -laugh, “I shall be persuaded at last that I am “a marvellous proper -man.” Well, if it must be so, happy man be his dole! And when shall -the auspicious day, beautiful Immalee, _still_ beautiful Isidora, in -spite of your Christian name, (to which I have a most anti-catholic -objection)--when shall that bright day dawn on your long slumbering -eye-lashes, and waken them with kisses, and beams, and light, and love, -and all the paraphernalia with which folly arrays misery previous to -their union--that glittering and empoisoned drapery that well resembles -what of old Dejanira sent to her husband--when shall the day of bliss -be?” And he laughed with that horrible convulsion that mingles the -expression of levity with that of despair, and leaves the listener no -doubt whether there is more despair in laughter, or more laughter in -despair. “I understand you not,” said the pure and timid Isidora; “and -if you would not terrify me to madness, laugh no more--no more, at -least, in that fearful way!”--“_I cannot weep_,” said Melmoth, fixing -on her his dry and burning eyes, strikingly visible in the moonlight; -“the fountain of tears has been long dried up within me, like that of -every other human blessing.”--“I can weep for both,” said Isidora, “if -that be all.” And her tears flowed fast, as much from memory as from -grief--and when those sources are united, God and the sufferer only -know how fast and bitterly they fall. “Reserve them for our nuptial -hour, my lovely bride,” said Melmoth to himself; “you will have -occasion for them then.” - -“There was a custom then, however indelicate and repulsive it may sound -to modern ears, for ladies who were doubtful of the intentions of their -lovers to demand of them the proof of their purity and honour, by -requiring an appeal to their family, and a solemn union under the -sanction of the church. Perhaps there was more genuine spirit of truth -and chastity in this, than in all the ambiguous flirtation that is -carried on with an ill-understood and mysterious dependence on -principles that have never been defined, and fidelity that has never -been removed. When the lady in the Italian tragedy(22) asks her lover, -almost at their first interview, if his intentions are honourable, and -requires, as the proof of their being so, that he shall espouse her -immediately, does she not utter a language more unsophisticated, more -intelligible, more _heartedly_ pure, than all the romantic and -incredible reliance that other females are supposed to place in the -volatility of impulse,--in that wild and extemporaneous feeling,--that -“house on the sands,”--which never has its foundation in the immoveable -depths of the heart. Yielding to this feeling, Isidora, in a voice that -faultered at its own accents, murmured, “If you love me, seek me no more -clandestinely. My mother is good, though she is austere--my brother is -kind, though he is passionate--my father--I have never seen him! I know -not what to say, but if he be _my_ father, he will love you. Meet me in -their presence, and I will no longer feel pain and shame mingled with -the delight of seeing you. Invoke the sanction of the church, and then, -perhaps,”---- “Perhaps!” retorted Melmoth; “You have learned the -European ‘perhaps!’--the art of suspending the meaning of an emphatic -word--of affecting to draw the curtain of the heart at the moment you -drop its folds closer and closer--of bidding us despair at the moment -you intend we should feel hope!”--“Oh no!--no!” answered the innocent -being; “I am _truth_. I am Immalee when I speak to you,--though to all -others in this country, which they call Christian, I am Isidora. When I -loved you first, I had only one heart to consult,--now there are many, -and some who have not hearts like mine. But if you love me, you can bend -to them as I have done--you can love their God, their home, their hopes, -and their country. Even with _you_ I could not be happy, unless you -adored the cross to which your hand first pointed my wandering sight, -and the religion which you reluctantly confessed was the most beautiful -and beneficent on earth.”--“Did I confess that?” echoed Melmoth; “It -must have been _reluctantly_ indeed. Beautiful Immalee! I am a convert -to you;” and he stifled a Satanic laugh as he spoke; “to your new -religion, and your beauty, and your Spanish birth and nomenclature, and -every thing that you would wish. I will incontinently wait on your pious -mother, and angry brother, and all your relatives, testy, proud, and -ridiculous as they may be. I will encounter the starched ruffs, and -rustling manteaus, and whale-boned fardingales of the females, from your -good mother down to the oldest duenna who sits spectacled, and armed -with bobbin, on her inaccessible and untempted sopha; and the twirled -whiskers, plumed hats, and shouldered capas of all your male relatives. -And I will drink chocolate, and strut among them; and when they refer me -to your mustachoed man of law, with his thread-bare cloke of black -velvet over his shoulder, his long quill in his hand, and his soul in -three sheets of wide-spread parchment, I will dower you in the most -ample territory ever settled on a bride.”--“Oh let it be, then, in that -land of music and sunshine where we first met! One spot where I might -set my foot amid its flowers, is worth all the cultivated earth of -Europe!” said Isidora.--“No!--it shall be in a territory with which your -bearded men of law are far better acquainted, and which even your pious -mother and proud family must acknowledge my claim to, when they shall -hear it asserted and explained. Perchance they may be joint-tenants with -_me_ there; and yet (strange to say!) they will never litigate my -exclusive title to possession.”--“I understand nothing of this,” said -Isidora; “but I feel I am transgressing the decorums of a Spanish female -and a Christian, in holding this conference with you any longer. If you -think as you once thought,--if you feel as _I_ must feel for -ever,--there needs not this discussion, which only perplexes and -terrifies. What have I to do with this territory of which you speak? -That _you_ are its possessor, is its only value in my eyes!”--“What have -you to do with it?” repeated Melmoth; “Oh, you know not how much you may -have to do with it and me yet! In other cases, the possession of the -territory is the security for the man,--but here the man is the security -for the everlasting possession of the territory. Mine heirs must inherit -it for ever and ever, if they hold by my tenure. Listen to me, beautiful -Immalee, or Christian, or whatever other name you choose to be called -by! Nature, your first sponsor, baptized you with the dews of Indian -roses--your Christian sponsors, of course, spared not water, salt, or -oil, to wash away the stain of nature from your regenerated frame--and -your last sponsor, if you will submit to the rite, will anoint you with -a new chrism. But of that hereafter. Listen to me while I announce to -you the wealth, the population, the magnificence of that region to which -I will endower you. The rulers of the earth are there--all of them. -There be the heroes, and the sovereigns, and the tyrants. There are -their riches, and pomp, and power--Oh what a glorious accumulation!--and -they have thrones, and crowns, and pedestals, and trophies of fire, that -burn for ever and ever, and the light of their glory blazes eternally. -There are all you read of in story, your Alexanders and Cæsars, your -Ptolemies and Pharaohs. There be the princes of the East, the Nimrods, -the Belshazzars, and the Holoferneses of their day. There are the -princes of the North, the Odins, the Attilas, (named by your church the -scourge of God), the Alarics, and all those nameless and -name-undeserving barbarians, who, under various titles and claims, -ravaged and ruined the earth they came to conquer. There be the -sovereigns of the South, and East, and West, the Mahommedans, the -Caliphs, the Saracens, the Moors, with all their gorgeous pretensions -and ornaments--the crescent, the Koran, and the horse-tail--the trump, -the gong, and the atabal, (or to suit it to your Christianised ear, -lovely Neophyte!) ‘the noise of the captains, and the shoutings.’ There -be also those triple-crowned chieftains of the West, who hide their -shorn heads under a diadem, and for every hair they shave, demand the -life of a sovereign--who, pretending to humility, trample on -power--whose title is, Servant of servants--and whose claim and -recognizance is, Lord of lords. Oh! you will not lack company in that -bright region, for bright it will be!--and what matter whether its light -be borrowed from the gleam of sulphur, or the trembling light of the -moon, by which I see you look so pale?”--“I look pale!” said Isidora -gasping; “I _feel_ pale! I know not the meaning of your words, but I -know it must be horrible. Speak no more of that region, with its pride, -its wickedness, and its splendour! I am willing to follow you to -deserts, to solitudes, which human step never trod but yours, and where -mine shall trace, with sole fidelity, the print of yours. Amid -loneliness I was born; amid loneliness I could die. Let me but, wherever -I live, and whenever I die, be yours!--and for the place, it matters -not, let it be even”---- and she shivered involuntarily as she spoke; -“Let it be even”---- “Even--_where_?” asked Melmoth, while a wild -feeling of triumph in the devotedness of this unfortunate female, and of -horror at the destination which she was unconsciously imprecating on -herself, mingled in the question. “Even where you are to be,” answered -the devoted Isidora, “let me be there! and there I must be happy, as in -the isle of flowers and sun-light, where I first beheld you. Oh! there -are no flowers so balmy and roseate as those that once blew there! There -are no waters so musical, or breezes so fragrant, as those that I -listened to and inhaled, when I thought that they repeated to me the -echo of your steps, or the melody of your voice--that _human music_ the -first I ever heard, and which, when I cease to hear”---- “You will hear -much better!” interrupted Melmoth; “the voices of ten thousand--ten -millions of spirits--beings whose tones are immortal, without cessation, -without pause, without interval!”--“Oh that will be glorious!” said -Isidora, clasping her hands; “the only language I have learned in this -new world worth speaking, is the language of music. I caught some -imperfect sounds from birds in my first world, but in my second world -they taught me music; and the misery they have taught me, hardly makes a -balance against that new and delicious language.”--“But think,” rejoined -Melmoth, “if your taste for music be indeed so exquisite, how it will be -indulged, how it will be enlarged, in hearing those voices accompanied -and re-echoed by the thunders of ten thousand billows of fire, lashing -against rocks which eternal despair has turned into adamant! They talk -of the music of the spheres!--Dream of the music of those living orbs -turning on their axis of fire for ever and ever, and ever singing as -they shine, like your brethren the Christians, who had the honour to -illuminate Nero’s garden in Rome on a rejoicing night.”--“You make me -tremble!”--“Tremble!--a strange effect of fire. Fie! what a coyness is -this! I have promised, on your arrival at your new territory, all that -is mighty and magnificent,--all that is splendid and voluptuous--the -sovereign and the sensualist--the inebriated monarch and the pampered -slave--the bed of roses and the canopy of fire!”--“And is this the home -to which you invite me?”--“It is--it is. Come, and be mine!--myriads of -voices summon you--hear and obey them! Their voices thunder in the -echoes of mine--their fires flash from my eyes, and blaze in my heart. -Hear me, Isidora, my beloved, hear me! I woo you in earnest, and for -ever! Oh how trivial are the ties by which mortal lovers are bound, -compared to those in which you and I shall be bound to eternity! Fear -not the want of a numerous and splendid society. I have enumerated -sovereigns, and pontiffs, and heroes,--and if you should condescend to -remember the trivial amusements of your present sejour, you will have -enough to revive its associations. You love music, and doubtless you -will have most of the musicians who have chromatized since the first -essays of Tubal Cain to Lully, who beat himself to death at one of his -own oratorios, or operas, I don’t know which. They will have a singular -accompaniment--the eternal roar of a sea of fire makes a profound bass -to the chorus of millions of singers in torture!”--“What is the meaning -of this horrible description?” said the trembling Isidora; “your words -are riddles to me. Do you jest with me for the sake of tormenting, or of -laughing at me?”--“Laughing!” repeated her wild visitor; “that is an -exquisite hint--_vive la bagatelle!_ Let us laugh for ever!--we shall -have enough to keep us in countenance. There will be all that ever have -dared to laugh on earth--the singers, the dancers, the gay, the -voluptuous, the brilliant, the beloved--all who have ever dared to -mistake their destiny, so far as to imagine that enjoyment was not a -crime, or that a smile was not an infringement of their duty as -sufferers. All such must expiate their error under circumstances which -will probably compel the most inveterate disciple of Democritus, the -most _inextinguishable laugher_ among them, to allow that _there_, at -least, ‘laughter is madness.’”--“I do not understand you,” said Isidora, -listening to him with that sinking of the heart which is produced by a -combined and painful feeling of ignorance and terror. “Not understand -me?” repeated Melmoth, with that sarcastic frigidity of countenance -which frightfully contrasted the burning intelligence of his eyes, that -seemed like the fires of a volcano bursting out amid masses of snow -heaped up to its very edge; “not understand me!--are you not, then, fond -of music?”--“I am.”--“Of dancing, too, my graceful, beautiful love?”--“I -_was_.”--“What is the meaning of the different emphasis you give to -those answers?”--“I love music--I must love it for ever--it is the -language of recollection. A single strain of it wafts me back to the -dreamy blessedness, the enchanted existence, of my own--own isle. Of -dancing I cannot say so much. I have _learnt_ dancing--but I _felt_ -music. I shall never forget the hour when I heard it for the first time, -and imagined it was the language which Christians spoke to each other. I -have heard them speak a different language since.”--“Doubtless their -language is not always melody, particularly when they address each other -on controverted points in religion. Indeed, I can conceive nothing less -a-kin to harmony than the debate of a Dominican and Franciscan on the -respective efficacy of the cowl of the order, to ascertain the salvation -of him who happens to die in it. But have you no other reason for -_being_ fond of music, and for only _having been_ fond of dancing? Nay, -let me have ‘your most exquisite reason.’” - - (22) Alluding possibly to “Romeo and Juliet.” - -“It seemed as if this unhappy being was impelled by his ineffable -destiny to deride the misery he inflicted, in proportion to its -bitterness. His sarcastic levity bore a direct and fearful proportion to -his despair. Perhaps this is also the case in circumstances and -characters less atrocious. A mirth which is not gaiety is often the mask -which hides the convulsed and distorted features of agony--and laughter, -which never yet was the expression of rapture, has often been the only -intelligible language of madness and misery. Extacy only -smiles,--despair laughs. It seemed, too, as if no keenness of ironical -insult, no menace of portentous darkness, had power to revolt the -feelings, or alarm the apprehensions, of the devoted being to whom they -were addressed. Her “most exquisite reasons,” demanded in a tone of -ruthless irony, were given in one whose exquisite and tender melody -seemed still to retain the modulation on which its first sounds had been -formed,--that of the song of birds, mingled with the murmur of waters. - -“I love music, because when I hear it I think of you. I have ceased to -love dancing, though I was at first intoxicated with it, because, when -dancing, I have sometimes forgot you. When I listen to music, your image -floats on every note,--I hear you in every sound. The most inarticulate -murmurs that I produce on my guitar (for I am very ignorant) are like a -spell of melody that raises a form indescribable--not you, but _my idea -of you_. In your presence, though that seems necessary to my existence, -I have never felt that exquisite delight that I have experienced in that -of your image, when music has called it up from the recesses of my -heart. Music seems to me like the voice of religion summoning to -remember and worship the God of my heart. Dancing appears like a -momentary apostasy, almost a profanation.”--“That, indeed, is a sweet -and subtle reason,” answered Melmoth, “and one that, of course, has but -one failure,--that of not being sufficiently flattering to the hearer. -And so my image floats on the rich and tremulous waves of melody one -moment, like a god of the overflowing billows of music, triumphing in -their swells, and graceful even in their falls,--and the next moment -appears, like the dancing demon of your operas, grinning at you between -the brilliant movement of your fandangoes, and flinging the withering -foam of his black and convulsed lips into the cup where you pledge at -your banquetting. Well--dancing--music--let them go together! It seems -that my image is equally mischievous in both--in one you are tortured by -reminiscence, and in the other by remorse. Suppose that image is -withdrawn from you for ever,--suppose that it were possible to break the -tie that unites us, and whose vision has entered into the soul of -both.”--“You may suppose it,” said Isidora, with maiden pride and tender -grief blended in her voice; “and if you do, believe that I will try to -suppose it too; the effort will not cost much,--nothing but--my life!” - -“As Melmoth beheld this blessed and beautiful being, once so refined -amid nature, and now so natural amid refinement, still possessing all -the soft luxuriance of her first angelic nature, amid the artificial -atmosphere where her sweets were uninhaled, and her brilliant tints -doomed to wither unappreciated,--where her pure and sublime devotedness -of heart was doomed to beat like a wave against a rock,--exhaust its -murmurs,--and expire;--As he felt this, and gazed on her, he cursed -himself; and then, with the selfishness of hopeless misery, he felt that -the curse might, by dividing it, be diminished. - -“Isidora!” he whispered in the softest tones he could assume, -approaching the casement, at which his pale and beautiful victim stood; -“Isidora! will you then be mine?”--“What shall I say?” said Isidora; “if -love requires the answer, I have said enough; if only vanity, I have -said too much.”--“Vanity! beautiful trifler, you know not what you say; -the accusing angel himself might blot out that article from the -catalogue of my sins. It is one of my prohibited and impossible -offences; it is an earthly feeling, and therefore one which I can -neither participate or enjoy. Certain it is that I feel some share of -human pride at this moment.”--“Pride! at what? Since I have known you, I -have felt no pride but that of supreme devotedness,--that -self-annihilating pride which renders the victim prouder of its wreath, -than the sacrificer of his office.”--“But I feel another pride,” -answered Melmoth, and in a proud tone he spoke it,--“a pride, which, -like that of the storm that visited the ancient cities, whose -destruction you may have read of, while it blasts, withers, and encrusts -paintings, gems, music, and festivity, grasping them in its talons of -annihilation, exclaims, Perish to all the world, perhaps beyond the -period of its existence, but live to me in darkness and in corruption! -Preserve all the exquisite modulation of your forms! all the -indestructible brilliancy of your colouring!--but preserve it for me -alone!--me, the single, pulseless, eyeless, heartless embracer of an -unfertile bride,--the brooder over the dark and unproductive nest of -eternal sterility,--the mountain whose lava of internal fire has -stifled, and indurated, and inclosed for ever, all that was the joy of -earth, the felicity of life, and the hope of futurity!” - -“As he spoke, his expression was at once so convulsed and so derisive, -so indicative of malignity and levity, so thrilling to the heart, while -it withered every fibre it touched and wrung, that Isidora, with all her -innocent and helpless devotedness, could not avoid shuddering before -this fearful being, while, in trembling and unappeaseable solicitude, -she demanded, “Will you then be mine? Or what am I to understand from -your terrible words? Alas! _my_ heart has never enveloped itself in -mysteries--never has the light of its truth burst forth amid the -thunderings and burnings in which you have issued the law of my -destiny.”--“Will you then be mine, Isidora?”--“Consult my parents. Wed -me by the rites, and in the face of the church, of which I am an -unworthy member, and I will be yours for ever.”--“_For ever!_” repeated -Melmoth; “well-spoken, _my_ bride. You will then be mine _for -ever_?--will you, Isidora?”--“Yes!--yes!--I have said so. But the sun is -about to rise, I feel the increasing perfume of the orange blossoms, and -the coolness of the morning air. Begone--I have staid too long here--the -domestics may be about, and observe you--begone, I implore you.”--“I -go--but one word--for to me the rising of the sun, and the appearance of -your domestics, and every thing in heaven above, and earth beneath, is -equally unimportant. Let the sun stay below the horizon and wait for me. -_You are mine!_”--“Yes, I am yours; but you must solicit my -family.”--“Oh, doubtless!--solicitation is so congenial to my -habits.”--“And”---- “Well, what?--you hesitate.”--“I hesitate,” said the -ingenuous and timid Isidora, “because”---- “Well?”--“Because,” she -added, bursting into tears, “those with whom you speak will not utter to -God language like mine. They will speak to you of wealth and dower; they -will inquire about that region where you have told me your rich and wide -possessions are held; and should they ask me of them, how shall I -answer?” - -“At these words, Melmoth approached as close as possible to the -casement, and uttered a certain word which Isidora did not at first -appear to hear, or understand--trembling she repeated her request. In a -still lower tone the answer was returned. Incredulous, and hoping that -the answer had deceived her, she again repeated her petition. A -withering monosyllable, not to be told, thundered in her ears,--and she -shrieked as she closed the casement. Alas! the casement only shut out -the form of the stranger--not his image. - - - - -CHAPTER XXI. - - He saw the eternal fire that keeps, - In the unfathomable deeps, - Its power for ever, and made a sign - To the morning prince divine; - Who came across the sulphurous flood, - Obedient to the master-call, - And in angel-beauty stood, - High on his star-lit pedestal. - - -“In this part of the manuscript, which I read in the vault of Adonijah -the Jew,” said Monçada, continuing his narrative, “there were several -pages destroyed, and the contents of many following wholly -obliterated--nor could Adonijah supply the deficiency. From the next -pages that were legible, it appeared that Isidora imprudently continued -to permit her mysterious visitor to frequent the garden at night, and to -converse with him from the casement, though unable to prevail on him to -declare himself to her family, and perhaps conscious that his -declaration would not be too favourably received. Such, at least, -appeared to be the meaning of the next lines I could decypher. - -“She had renewed, in these nightly conferences, her former visionary -existence. Her whole day was but a long thought of the hour at which she -expected to see him. In the day-time she was silent, pensive, -abstracted, feeding on thought--with the evening her spirits perceptibly -though softly rose, like those of one who has a secret and -incommunicable store of delight; and her mind became like that flower -that unfolds its leaves, and diffuses its odours, only on the approach -of night. - -“The season favoured this fatal delusion. It was that rage of summer -when we begin to respire only towards evening, and the balmy and -brilliant night is our day. The day itself is passed in a languid and -feverish doze. At night alone she existed,--at her moon-lit casement -alone she breathed freely; and never did the moonlight fall on a -lovelier form, or gild a more angelic brow, or gleam on eyes that -returned more pure and congenial rays. The mutual and friendly light -seemed like the correspondence of spirits who glided on the alternate -beams, and, passing from the glow of the planet to the glory of a mortal -eye, felt that to reside in either was heaven. * * * * * * * * - -“She lingered at that casement till she imagined that the clipped and -artificially straitened treillage of the garden was the luxuriant and -undulating foliage of the trees of her paradise isle--that the flowers -had the same odour as that of the untrained and spontaneous roses that -once showered their leaves under her naked feet--that the birds sung to -her as they had once done when the vesper-hymn of her pure heart -ascended along with their closing notes, and formed the holiest and most -acceptable anthem that perhaps ever wooed the evening-breeze to waft it -to heaven. - -“This delusion would soon cease. The stiff and stern monotony of the -parterre, where even the productions of nature held their place as if -under the constraint of duty, forced the conviction of its unnatural -regularity on her eye and soul, and she turned to heaven for relief. Who -does not, even in the first sweet agony of passion? Then we tell that -tale to heaven which we would not trust to the ear of mortal--and in the -withering hour that must come to all whose love is only mortal, we again -call on that heaven which we have intrusted with our secret, to send us -back one bright messenger of consolation on those thousand rays that its -bright, and cold, and passionless orbs, are for ever pouring on the -earth as if in mockery. We ask, but is the petition heard or answered? -We weep, but do not we feel that those tears are like rain falling on -the sea? _Mare infructuosum._ No matter. Revelation assures us there is -a period coming, when all petitions suited to our state shall be -granted, and when “tears shall be wiped from all eyes.” In revelation, -then, let us trust--in any thing but our own hearts. But Isidora had not -yet learned that theology of the skies, whose text is, “Let us go into -the house of mourning.” To her still the night was day, and her sun was -the “moon walking in its brightness.” When she beheld it, the -recollections of the isle rushed on her heart like a flood; and a figure -soon appeared to recal and to realize them. - -“That figure appeared to her every night without disturbance or -interruption; and though her knowledge of the severe restraint and -regularity of the household caused her some surprise at the facility -with which Melmoth apparently defied both, and visited the garden every -night, yet such was the influence of her former dream-like and romantic -existence, that his continued presence, under circumstances so -extraordinary, never drew from her a question with regard to the means -by which he was enabled to surmount difficulties insurmountable to all -others. - -“There were, indeed, two extraordinary circumstances attendant on these -meetings. Though seeing each other again in Spain, after an interval of -three years elapsing since they had parted on the shores of an isle in -the Indian sea, neither had ever inquired what circumstances could have -led to a meeting so unexpected and extraordinary. On Isidora’s part this -incurious feeling was easily accounted for. Her former existence had -been one of such a fabulous and fantastic character, that the improbable -had become familiar to her,--and the familiar only, improbable. Wonders -were her natural element; and she felt, perhaps, less surprised at -seeing Melmoth in Spain, than when she first beheld him treading the -sands of her lonely island. With Melmoth the cause was different, though -the effect was the same. His destiny forbid alike curiosity or surprise. -The world could show him no greater marvel than his own existence; and -the facility with which he himself passed from region to region, -mingling with, yet distinct from all his species, like a wearied and -uninterested spectator rambling through the various seats of some vast -theatre, where he knows none of the audience, would have prevented his -feeling astonishment, had he encountered Isidora on the summit of the -Andes. - -“During a month, through the course of which she had tacitly permitted -these nightly visits beneath her casement--(at a distance which indeed -might have defied Spanish jealousy itself to devise matter of suspicion -out of,--the balcony of her window being nearly fourteen feet above the -level of the garden, where Melmoth stood)--during this month, Isidora -rapidly, but imperceptibly, graduated through those stages of feeling -which all who love have alike experienced, whether the stream of passion -be smooth or obstructed. In the first, she was full of anxiety to speak -and to listen, to hear and to be heard. She had all the wonders of her -new existence to relate; and perhaps that indefinite and unselfish hope -of magnifying herself in the eyes of him she loved, which induces us in -our first encounter to display all the eloquence, all the powers, all -the attractions we possess, not with the pride of a competitor, but with -the humiliation of a victim. The conquered city displays all its wealth -in hopes of propitiating the conqueror. It decorates him with all its -spoils, and feels prouder to behold him arrayed in them, than when she -wore them in triumph herself. That is the first bright hour of -excitement, of trembling, but hopeful and felicitous anxiety. Then we -think we never can display enough of talent, of imagination, of all that -can interest, of all that can dazzle. We pride ourselves in the homage -we receive from society, from the hope of sacrificing that homage to our -beloved--we feel a pure and almost spiritualized delight in our own -praises, from imagining they render us more worthy of meriting _his_, -from whom we have received the _grace_ of love to deserve them--we -glorify ourselves, that we may be enabled to render back the glory to -him from whom we received it, and for whom we have kept it in trust, -only to tender it back with that rich and accumulated interest of the -heart, of which we would pay the uttermost farthing, if the payment -exacted the last vibration of its fibres,--the last drop of its blood. -No saint who ever viewed a miracle performed by himself with a holy and -self-annihilating abstraction from _seity_, has perhaps felt a purer -sentiment of perfect devotedness, than the female who, in her first -hours of love, offers, at the feet of her worshipped one, the brilliant -wreath of music, painting, and eloquence,--and only hopes, with an -unuttered sigh, that the rose of love will not be unnoticed in the -garland. - -“Oh! how delicious it is to such a being (and such was Isidora) to touch -her harp amid crowds, and watch, when the noisy and tasteless bravoes -have ceased, for the heart-drawn sigh of _the one_, to whom alone her -soul, not her fingers, have played,--and whose single sigh is heard, and -heard alone, amid the plaudits of thousands! Yet how delicious to her to -whisper to herself, “I heard his sigh, but he has heard the applause!” - -“And when she glides through the dance, and in touching, with easy and -accustomed grace, the hands of many, she feels there is but one hand -whose touch she can recognize; and, waiting for its thrilling and -life-like vibration, moves on like a statue, cold and graceful, till the -Pygmalion-touch warms her into woman, and the marble melts into flesh -under the hands of the resistless moulder. And her movements betray, at -that moment, the unwonted and half-unconscious impulses of that fair -image to which love had given life, and who luxuriated in the vivid and -newly-tried enjoyment of that animation which the passion of her lover -had breathed into her frame. And when the splendid portfolio is -displayed, or the richly-wrought tapestry expanded by outstretched arms, -and cavaliers gaze, and ladies envy, and every eye is busy in -examination, and every tongue loud in praise, just in the inverted -proportion of the ability of the one to scrutinize with accuracy, and -the other to applaud with taste--then to throw round the secret silent -glance, that searches for that eye whose light alone, to her intoxicated -gaze, contains all judgment, all taste, all feeling--for that lip whose -very censure would be dearer than the applause of a world!--To hear, -with soft and submissive tranquillity, censure and remark, praise and -comment, but to turn for ever the appealing look to one who alone can -understand, and whose swiftly-answering glance can alone reward -it!--This--this had been Isidora’s hope. Even in the isle where he first -saw her in the infancy of her intellect, she had felt the consciousness -of superior powers, which were then her solace, not her pride. Her value -for herself rose with her devotion to him. Her passion became her pride; -and the enlarged resources of her mind, (for Christianity under its most -corrupt form enlarges every mind), made her at first believe, that to -behold her admired as she was for her loveliness, her talents, and her -wealth, would compel this proudest and most eccentric of beings to -prostrate himself before her, or at least to acknowledge the power of -those acquirements which she had so painfully been arrived at the -knowledge of, since her involuntary introduction into European society. - -“This had been her hope during the earlier period of his visits; but -innocent and flattering to its object as it was, she was disappointed. -To Melmoth “nothing was new under the sun.” Talent was to him a burden. -He knew more than man could tell him, or woman either. Accomplishments -were a bauble--the rattle teazed his ear, and he flung it away. Beauty -was a flower he looked on only to scorn, and touched only to wither. -Wealth and distinction he appreciated as they deserved, but not with the -placid disdain of the philosopher, or the holy abstraction of the saint, -but with that “fearful looking for of judgment and fiery indignation,” -to which he believed their possessors irreversibly devoted, and to the -infliction of which he looked forward with perhaps a feeling like that -of those executioners who, at the command of Mithridates, poured the -melted ore of his golden chains down the throat of the Roman ambassador. - -“With such feelings, and others that cannot be told, Melmoth experienced -an indescribable relief from the eternal fire that was already kindled -within him, in the perfect and unsullied freshness of what may be called -the untrodden verdure of Immalee’s heart,--for she was Immalee still to -him. She was the Oasis of his desert--the fountain at which he drank, -and forgot his passage over the burning sands--and the _burning_ sands -to which his passage must conduct him. He sat under the shade of the -gourd, and forgot the worm was working at its root;--perhaps the undying -worm that gnawed, and coiled, and festered in his own heart, might have -made him forget the corrosions of that he himself had sown in hers. - -“Isidora, before the second week of their interview, had lowered her -pretensions. She had given up the hope to interest or to dazzle--that -hope which is twin-born with love in the purest female heart. She now -had concentrated all her hopes, and all her heart, no longer in the -ambition _to be_ beloved, but in the sole wish _to_ love. She no longer -alluded to the enlargement of her faculties, the acquisition of new -powers, and the expansion and cultivation of her taste. She ceased to -speak--she sought only to listen--then her wish subsided into that quiet -listening for his form alone, which seemed to transfer the office of -hearing into the eyes, or rather, to identify both. She saw him long -before he appeared,--and heard him though he did not speak. They have -been in each other’s presence for the short hours of a Spanish summer’s -night,--Isidora’s eyes alternately fixed on the sun-like moon, and on -her mysterious lover,--while he, without uttering a word, leaned against -the pillars of her balcony, or the trunk of the giant myrtle-tree, which -cast the shade he loved, even by night, over his portentous -expression,--and they never uttered a word to each other, till the -waving of Isidora’s hand, as the dawn appeared, was the tacit signal for -their parting. - -“This is the marked graduation of profound feeling. Language is no -longer necessary to those whose beating hearts converse audibly--whose -eyes, even by moonlight, are more intelligible to each other’s stolen -and shadowed glances, than the broad converse of face to face in the -brightest sunshine--to whom, in the exquisite inversion of earthly -feeling and habit, darkness is light, and silence eloquence. - -“At their last interviews, Isidora sometimes spoke,--but it was only to -remind her lover, in a soft and chastened tone, of a promise which it -seems he had at one time made of disclosing himself to her parents, and -demanding her at their hands. Something she murmured also of her -declining health--her exhausted spirits--her breaking heart--the long -delay--the hope deferred--the mysterious meeting; and while she spoke -she wept, but hid her tears from him. - -“It is thus, Oh God! we are doomed (and justly doomed when we fix our -hearts on any thing below thee) to feel those hearts repelled like the -dove who hovered over the shoreless ocean, and found not a spot where -her foot might rest,--not a green leaf to bring back in her beak. Oh -that the ark of mercy may open to such souls, and receive them from that -stormy world of deluge and of wrath, with which they are unable to -contend, and where they can find no resting-place! - -“Isidora now had arrived at the last stage of that painful pilgrimage -through which she had been led by a stern and reluctant guide. - -“In its first, with the innocent and venial art of woman, she had tried -to interest him by the display of her new acquirements, without the -consciousness that they were not new to him. The harmony of civilized -society, of which she was at once weary and proud, was discord to his -ear. He had examined all the strings that formed this curious but -ill-constructed instrument, and found them all false. - -“In the second, she was satisfied with merely beholding him. His -presence formed the atmosphere of her existence--in it alone she -breathed. She said to herself, as evening approached, “I shall see -him!”--and the burden of life rolled from her heart as she internally -uttered the words. The constraint, the gloom, the monotony of her -existence, vanished like clouds at the sun, or rather like those clouds -assuming such gorgeous and resplendent colours, that they seemed to have -been painted by the finger of happiness itself. The brilliant hue -diffused itself over every object of her eye and heart. Her mother -appeared no longer a cold and gloomy bigot, and even her brother seemed -kind. There was not a tree in the garden whose foliage was not illumined -as by the light of a setting sun; and the breeze spoke to her in a voice -whose melody was borrowed from her own heart. - -“When at length she saw him,--when she said to herself, He is -there,--she felt as if all the felicity of earth was comprised in that -single sensation,--at least she felt that all her own was. She no longer -indulged the wish to attract or to subdue him--absorbed in his -existence, she forgot her own--immersed in the consciousness of her own -felicity, she lost the wish, or rather the pride, of BESTOWING it. In -the impassioned revelry of the heart, she flung the pearl of existence -into the draught in which she pledged her lover, and saw it melt away -without a sigh. But now she was beginning to feel, that for this -intensity of feeling, this profound devotedness, she was entitled at -least to an honourable acknowledgement on the part of her lover; and -that the mysterious delay in which her existence was wasted, might make -that acknowledgement come perhaps too late. She expressed this to him; -but to these appeals, (not the least affecting of which had no language -but that of looks), he replied only by a profound but uneasy silence, or -by a levity whose wild and frightful sallies had something in them still -more alarming. - -“At times he appeared even to insult the heart over which he had -triumphed, and to affect to doubt his conquest with the air of one who -is revelling in its certainty, and who mocks the captive by asking “if -it is really in chains?” - -“You do not love?” he would say;--“you cannot love _me_ at least. Love, -in your happy Christian country, must be the result of cultivated -taste,--of harmonized habits,--of a felicitous congeniality of -pursuits,--of thought, and hopes, and feelings, that, in the sublime -language of the Jewish poet, (prophet I meant), ‘tell and certify to -each other; and though they have neither speech or language, a voice is -heard among them.’ You cannot love a being repulsive in his -appearance,--eccentric in his habits,--wild and unsearchable in his -feelings,--and inaccessible in the settled purpose of his fearful and -fearless existence. No,” he added in a melancholy and decided tone of -voice, “you cannot love me under the circumstances of your new -existence. Once----but that is past.--You are now a baptized daughter of -the Catholic church,--the member of a civilized community,--the child of -a family that knows not the stranger. What, then, is there between me -and thee, Isidora, or, as your Fra Jose would phrase it, (if he knows so -much Greek), τι εμοι και σοι.”--“I loved you,” answered the Spanish -maiden, speaking in the same pure, firm, and tender voice in which she -had spoken when she first was the sole goddess of her fairy and flowery -isle; “I loved you before I was a Christian. They have changed my -creed--but they never can change my heart. I love you still--I will -be yours for ever! On the shore of the desolate isle,--from the -grated window of my Christian prison,--I utter the same sounds. What -can woman, what can man, in all the boasted superiority of his -character and feeling, (which I have learned only since I became a -Christian, or an European), do more? You but insult me when you appear -to doubt that feeling, which you may wish to have analysed, because you -do not experience or cannot comprehend it. Tell me, then, _what it is to -love?_ I defy all your eloquence, all your sophistry, to answer the -question as truly as I can. If you would wish to know what is love, -inquire not at the tongue of man, but at the heart of woman.”--“What is -love?” said Melmoth; “is that the question?”--“You doubt that I love,” -said Isidora--“tell me, then, what is love?”--“You have imposed on me a -task,” said Melmoth smiling, but not in mirth, “so congenial to my -feelings and habits of thought, that the execution will doubtless be -inimitable. To love, beautiful Isidora, is to live in a world of the -heart’s own creation--all whose forms and colours are as brilliant as -they are deceptive and unreal. To those who love there is neither day or -night, summer or winter, society or solitude. They have but two eras in -their delicious but visionary existence,--and those are thus marked in -the heart’s calendar--_presence_--_absence_. These are the substitutes -for all the distinctions of nature and society. The world to them -contains but one individual,--and that individual is to them the world -as well as its single inmate. The atmosphere of his presence is the only -air they can breathe in,--and the light of his eye the only sun of their -creation, in whose rays they bask and live.”--“Then I love,” said -Isidora internally. “To love,” pursued Melmoth, “is to live in an -existence of perpetual contradictions--to feel that absence is -insupportable, and yet be doomed to experience the presence of the -object as almost equally so--to be full of ten thousand thoughts while -he is absent, the confession of which we dream will render our next -meeting delicious, yet when the hour of meeting arrives, to feel -ourselves, by a timidity alike oppressive and unaccountable, robbed of -the power of expressing one--to be eloquent in his absence, and dumb in -his presence--to watch for the hour of his return as for the dawn of a -new existence, yet when it arrives, to feel all those powers suspended -which we imagined it would restore to energy--_to be the statue that -meets the sun, but without the music his presence should draw from -it_--to watch for the light of his looks, as a traveller in the deserts -looks for the rising of the sun; and when it bursts on our awakened -world, to sink fainting under its overwhelming and intolerable glory, -and almost wish it were night again--this is love!”--“Then I believe I -love,” said Isidora half audibly. “To feel,” added Melmoth with -increasing energy, “that our existence is so absorbed in his, that we -have lost all consciousness but of his presence--all sympathy but of his -enjoyments--all sense of suffering but when he suffers--_to be_ only -because _he is_--and to have no other use of being but to devote it to -him, while our humiliation increases in proportion to our devotedness; -and the lower you bow before your idol, the prostrations seem less and -less worthy of being the expression of your devotion,--till you are only -_his_, when you are not yourself--To feel that to the sacrifice of -yourself, all other sacrifices are inferior; and in it, therefore, all -other sacrifices must be included. That she who loves, must remember no -longer her individual existence, her natural existence--that she must -consider parents, country, nature, society, religion itself--(you -tremble, Immalee--Isidora I would say)--only as grains of incense flung -on the altar of the heart, to burn and exhale their sacrificed odours -there.”--“Then I do love,” said Isidora; and she wept and trembled -indeed at this terrible confession--“for I have forgot the ties they -told me were natural,--the country of which they said I was a native. I -will renounce, if it must be so, parents,--country,--the habits which I -have acquired,--the thoughts which I have learnt,--the religion which -I----Oh no! my God! my Saviour!” she exclaimed, darting from the -casement, and clinging to the crucifix--“No! I will never renounce -you!--I will never renounce you!--you will not forsake me in the hour of -death!--you will not desert me in the moment of trial!--you will not -forsake me at this moment!” - -“By the wax-lights that burned in her apartment, Melmoth could see her -prostrate before the sacred image. He could see that devotion of the -heart which made it throb almost visibly in the white and palpitating -bosom--the clasped hands that seemed imploring aid against that -rebellious heart, whose beatings they vainly struggled to repress; and -then, locked and upraised, asked forgiveness from heaven for their -fruitless opposition. He could see the wild but profound devotion with -which she clung to the crucifix,--and he shuddered to behold it. He -never gazed on that symbol,--his eyes were immediately averted;--yet now -he looked long and intently at her as she knelt before it. He seemed to -suspend the diabolical instinct that governed his existence, and to view -her for the pure pleasure of sight. Her prostrate figure,--her rich -robes that floated round her like drapery round an inviolate -shrine,--her locks of light streaming over her naked shoulders,--her -small white hands locked in agony of prayer,--the purity of expression -that seemed to identify the agent with the employment, and made one -believe they saw not a suppliant, but the embodied spirit of -supplication, and feel, that lips like those had never held communion -with aught below heaven.--All this Melmoth beheld; and feeling that in -this he could never participate, he turned away his head in stern and -bitter agony,--and the moon-beam that met his burning eye saw no tear -there. - -“Had he looked a moment longer, he might have beheld a change in the -expression of Isidora too flattering to his pride, if not to his heart. -He might have marked all that profound and perilous absorption of the -soul, when it is determined to penetrate the mysteries of love or of -religion, and chuse “whom it will serve”--that _pause_ on the brink of -an abyss, in which all its energies, its passions, and its powers, are -to be immersed--that pause, while the balance is trembling (and we -tremble with it) between God and man. - -“In a few moments, Isidora arose from before the cross. There was more -composure, more elevation in her air. There was also that air of -decision which an unreserved appeal to the Searcher of hearts never -fails to communicate even to the weakest of those he has made. - -“Melmoth, returning to his station beneath the casement, looked on her -for some time with a mixture of compassion and wonder--feelings that he -hasted to repel, as he eagerly demanded, “What proof are you ready to -give of _that_ love I have described--of that which alone deserves the -name?”--“Every proof,” answered Isidora firmly, “that the most devoted -of the daughters of man can give--my heart and hand,--my resolution to -be yours amid mystery and grief,--to follow you in exile and loneliness -(if it must be) through the world!” - -“As she spoke, there was a light in her eye,--a glow on her brow,--an -expansive and irradiated sublimity around her figure,--that made it -appear like the rare and glorious vision of the personified union of -passion and purity,--as if those eternal rivals had agreed to reconcile -their claims, to meet on the confines of their respective dominions, and -had selected the form of Isidora as the temple in which their league -might be hallowed, and their union consummated--and never were the -opposite divinities so deliciously lodged. They forgot their ancient -feuds, and agreed to dwell there for ever. - -“There was a grandeur, too, about her slender form, that seemed to -announce that pride of purity,--that confidence in external weakness, -and internal energy,--that conquest without armour,--that victory over -the victor, which makes the latter blush at his triumph, and compels him -to bow to the standard of the besieged fortress at the moment of its -surrender. She stood like a woman devoted, but not humiliated by her -devotion--uniting tenderness with magnanimity--willing to sacrifice -every thing to her lover, but that which must lessen the value of the -sacrifice in his eyes--willing to be the victim, but feeling worthy to -be the priestess. - -“Melmoth gazed on her as she stood. One generous, one human feeling, -throbbed in his veins, and thrilled in his heart. He saw her in her -beauty,--her devotedness,--her pure and perfect innocence,--her sole -feeling for one who could not, by the fearful power of his unnatural -existence, feel for mortal being. He turned aside, and did not weep; or -if he did, wiped away his tears, as a fiend might do, with his burning -talons, when he sees a new victim arrive for torture; and, _repenting of -his repentance_, rends away _the blot_ of compunction, and arms himself -for his task of renewed infliction. - -“Well, then, Isidora, you will give me no proof of your love? Is that -what I must understand?”--“Demand,” answered the innocent and -high-souled Isidora, “any proof that woman ought to give--more is not in -human power--less would render the proof of no value!” - -“Such was the impression that these words made on Melmoth, whose heart, -however, plunged in unutterable crimes, had never been polluted by -sensuality, that he started from the spot where he stood,--gazed on her -for a moment,--and then exclaimed, “Well! you have given me proofs of -love unquestionable! It remains for me to give you a proof of that love -which I have described--of that love which only _you_ could inspire--of -that love which, under happier circumstances, I might---- But no -matter--it is not my business to analyse the feeling, but to give the -proof.” He extended his arm toward the casement at which she -stood.--“Would you then consent to unite your destiny with mine? Would -you indeed be mine amid mystery and sorrow? Would you follow me from -land to sea, and from sea to land,--a restless, homeless, devoted -being,--with the brand on your brow, and the curse on your name? Would -you indeed _be mine_?--my own--my only Immalee?”--“I would--I -will!”--“Then,” answered Melmoth, “on this spot receive the proof of my -eternal gratitude. On this spot I renounce your sight!--I disannul your -engagement!--I fly from you for ever!” And as he spoke, he disappeared. - - - - -CHAPTER XXII. - - I’ll not wed Paris,--Romeo is my husband. - - SHAKESPEARE. - - -“Isidora was so accustomed to the wild exclamations and (to her) -unintelligible allusions of her mysterious lover, that she felt no -unwonted alarm at his singular language, and abrupt departure. There was -nothing in either more menacing or formidable than she had often -witnessed; and she recollected, that after these paroxysms, he often -re-appeared in a mood comparatively tranquil. She felt sustained, -therefore, by this reflection,--and perhaps by that mysterious -conviction impressed on the hearts of those who love profoundly--that -passion must always be united with suffering; and she seemed to hear, -with a kind of melancholy submission to the fatality of love, that her -lot was to suffer from lips that were sure to verify the oracle. The -disappearance, therefore, of Melmoth, gave her less surprise than a -summons from her mother a few hours after, which was delivered in these -words: “Madonna Isidora, your lady-mother desires your presence in the -tapestried chamber--having received intelligence by a certain express, -which she deems fitting you should be acquainted withal.” - -“Isidora had been in some degree prepared for extraordinary intelligence -by an extraordinary bustle in this grave and quiet household. She had -heard steps passing, and voices resounding, but - - “She wist not what they were,” - -and thought not of what they meant. She imagined that her mother might -have some communication to make about some intricate point of conscience -which Fra Jose had not discussed to her satisfaction, from which she -would make an instant transition to the levity visible in the mode in -which one attendant damsel arranged her hair, and the suspected sound of -a ghitarra under the window of another, and then fly off at a tangent to -inquire how the capons were fed, and why the eggs and Muscadine had not -been duly prepared for Fra Jose’s supper. Then would she fret about the -family clock not chiming synchronically with the bells of the -neighbouring church where she performed her devotions. And finally, she -fretted about every thing, from the fattening of the “pullen,” and the -preparation for the olio, up to the increasing feuds between the -Molinists and Jansenists, which had already visited Spain, and the -deadly dispute between the Dominican and Franciscan orders, relative to -the habit in which it was most effective to salvation for the dying body -of the sinner to be wrapped. So between her kitchen and her -oratory,--her prayers to the saints, and her scoldings to her -servants,--her devotion and her anger,--Donna Clara continued to keep -herself and domestics in a perpetual state of interesting occupation and -gentle excitement. - -“Something of this Isidora expected on the summons, and she was, -therefore, surprised to see Donna Clara seated at her writing desk,--a -large and fairly written manuscript of a letter extended before -her,--and to hear words thereafter uttered thus: “Daughter, I have sent -for you, that you might with me partake of the pleasure these lines -should afford both; and that you may do so, I desire you to sit and hear -while they are read to you.” - -“Donna Clara, as she uttered these words, was seated in a monstrous -high-backed chair, of which she actually seemed a part, so wooden was -her figure, so moveless her features, so lack-lustre her eyes. - -“Isidora curtsied low, and sat on one of the cushions with which the -room was heaped,--while a spectacled duenna, enthroned on another -cushion at the right hand of Donna Clara, read, with sundry pauses and -some difficulty, the following letter, which Donna Clara had just -received from her husband, who had landed, not _at Ossuna_(23), but at a -real sea-port town in Spain, and was now on his way to join his family. - - “DONNA CLARA, - - “It is about a year since I received your letter advising me of the - recovery of our daughter, whom we believed lost with her nurse on - her voyage to India when an infant, to which I would sooner have - replied, were I not otherwise hindered by concerns of business. - - “I would have you understand, that I rejoice not so much that I have - recovered a daughter, as that heaven hath regained a soul and a - subject, as it were, _e faucibus Draconis--e profundis - Barathri_--the which terms Fra Jose will make plain to your weaker - comprehension. - - “I trust that, through the ministry of that devout servant of God - and the church, she is now become as complete a Catholic in all - points necessary, absolute, doubtful, or incomprehensible,--formal, - essential, venial, and indispensible, as becomes the daughter of an - old Christian such as I (though unworthy of that honour) boast - myself to be. Moreover, I expect to find her, as a Spanish maiden - should be, equipped and accomplished with all the virtues pertaining - to that character, especially those of discretion and reserve. The - which qualities, as I have always perceived to reside in you, so I - hope you have laboured to transfer to her,--a transfer by which the - receiver is enriched, and the giver not impoverished. - - “Finally, as maidens should be rewarded for their chastity and - reserve by being joined in wedlock with a worthy husband, so it is - the duty of a careful father to provide such a one for his daughter, - that she do not pass her marriageable age, and sit in discontent and - squalidness at home, as one overlooked of the other sex. My fatherly - care, therefore, moving me, I shall bring with me one who is to be - her husband, Don Gregorio Montilla, of whose qualifications I have - not now leisure to speak, but whom I expect she will receive as - becomes the dutiful daughter, and you as the obedient wife, of - - FRANCISCO DI ALIAGA.” - - (23) Vide Don Quixote, Vol. II. Smollet’s Translation. - -“You have heard your father’s letter, daughter,” said Donna Clara, -placing herself as in act to speak, “and doubtless sit silent in -expectation of hearing from me a rehearsal of the duties pertaining to -the state on which you are so soon to enter, and which, I take it, are -three; that is to say, obedience, silence, and thriftiness. And first of -the first, which, as I conceive, divides itself into thirteen -heads,”---- “Holy saints!” said the duenna under her breath, “how pale -Madonna Isidora grows!”--“First of the first,” continued Donna Clara, -clearing her throat, elevating her spectacles with one hand, and fixing -three demonstrative fingers of the other on a huge clasped volume, -containing the life of St Francis Xavier, that lay on the desk before -her,--“as touching the thirteen heads into which the first divides -itself, the eleven first, I take it, are the most profitable--the two -last I shall leave you to be instructed in by your husband. First, -then,”---- Here she was interrupted by a slight noise, which did not, -however, draw her attention, till she was startled by a scream from the -duenna, who exclaimed, “The Virgin be my protection! Madonna Isidora has -fainted!” - -“Donna Clara lowered her spectacles, glanced at the figure of her -daughter, who had fallen from her cushion, and lay breathless on the -floor, and, after a short pause, replied, “She _has_ fainted. Raise -her.--Call for assistance, and apply some cold water, or bear her into -the open air. I fear I have lost the mark in the life of this holy -saint,” muttered Donna Clara when alone; “this comes of this foolish -business of love and marriage. I never loved in my life, thank the -saints!--and as to marriage, that is according to the will of God and of -our parents.” - -“The unfortunate Isidora was lifted from the floor, conveyed into the -open air, whose breath had the same effect on her still elementary -existence, that water was said to have on that of the _ombre pez_, -(man-fish), of whom the popular traditions of Barcelona were at that -time, and still have been, rife. - -“She recovered; and sending an apology to Donna Clara for her sudden -indisposition, intreated her attendants to leave her, as she wished to -be alone. Alone!--that is a word to which those who love annex but one -idea,--that of being in society with one who is their all. She wished in -this (to her) terrible emergency, to ask counsel of him whose image was -ever present to her, and whose voice she heard with the mind’s ear -distinctly even in absence. - -“The crisis was indeed one calculated to try a female heart; and -Isidora’s, with its potency of feeling, opposed to utter destitution of -judgment and of experience,--its native habits of resolution and -self-direction, and its acquired ones of timidity and diffidence almost -to despondency,--became the victim of emotions, whose struggle seemed at -first to threaten her reason. - -“Her former independent and instinctive existence revived in her heart -at some moments, and suggested to her resolutions wild and desperate, -but such as the most timid females have been known, under the pressure -of a fearful exigency, to purpose, and even to execute. Then the -constraint of her new habits,--the severity of her factitious -existence,--and the solemn power of her newly-learned but deeply-felt -religion,--made her renounce all thoughts of resistance or opposition, -as offences against heaven. - -“Her former feelings, her new duties, beat in terrible conflict against -her heart; and, trembling at the isthmus on which she stood, she felt -it, under the influence of opposing tides, narrowing every moment under -her feet. - -“This was a dreadful day to her. She had sufficient time for reflection, -but she had within her the conviction that reflection could be of no -use,--that the circumstances in which she was placed, not her own -thoughts, must decide for her,--and that, situated as she was, mental -power was no match for physical. - -“There is not, perhaps, a more painful exercise of the mind than that of -treading, with weary and impatient pace, the entire round of thought, -and arriving at the same conclusion for ever; then setting out again -with increased speed and diminished strength, and again returning to the -very same spot--of sending out all our faculties on a voyage of -discovery, and seeing them all return empty, and watch the wrecks as -they drift helplessly along, and sink before the eye that hailed their -outward expedition with joy and confidence. - -“All that day she thought how it was possible to liberate herself from -her situation, while the feeling that liberation was impossible clung to -the bottom of her heart; and this sensation of the energies of the soul -in all their strength, being in vain opposed to imbecillity and -mediocrity, when aided by circumstances, is one productive alike of -melancholy and of irritation. We feel, like prisoners in romance, bound -by threads to which the power of magic has given the force of adamant. - -“To those whose minds incline them rather to observe, than to sympathize -with the varieties of human feeling, it would have been interesting to -watch the restless agony of Isidora, contrasted with the cold and serene -satisfaction of her mother, who employed the whole of the day in -composing, with the assistance of Fra Jose, what Juvenal calls “_verbosa -et grandis epistola_,” in answer to that of her husband; and to conceive -how two human beings, apparently of similarly-constructed organs, and -destined apparently to sympathize with each other, could draw from the -same fountain waters sweet and bitter. - -“On her plea of continued indisposition, Isidora was excused from -appearing before her mother during the remainder of the day. The night -came on,--the night, which, by concealing the artificial objects and -manners which surrounded her, restored to her, in some degree, the -consciousness of her former existence, and gave her a sense of -independence she never felt by day. The absence of Melmoth increased her -anxiety. She began to apprehend that his departure was intended to be -final, and her heart sunk at the thought. - -“To the mere reader of romance, it may seem incredible that a female of -Isidora’s energy and devotedness should feel anxiety or terror in a -situation so common to a heroine. She has only to stand proof against -all the importunities and authority of her family, and announce her -desperate resolution to share the destiny of a mysterious and -unacknowledged lover. All this sounds very plausible and interesting. -Romances have been written and read, whose interest arose from the noble -and impossible defiance of the heroine to all powers human and -superhuman alike. But neither the writers or readers seem ever to have -taken into account the thousand petty external causes that operate on -human agency with a force, if not more powerful, far more effective than -the grand internal motive which makes so grand a figure in romance, and -so rare and trivial a one in common life. - -“Isidora would have died for him she loved. At the stake or the scaffold -she would have avowed her passion, and triumphed in perishing as its -victim. The mind can collect itself for one great effort, but it is -exhausted by the eternally-recurring necessity of domestic -conflicts,--victories by which she must lose, and defeats by which she -might gain the praise of perseverance, and feel such gain was loss. The -last single and terrible effort of the Jewish champion, in which he and -his enemies perished together, must have been a luxury compared to his -blind drudgery in his mill. - -“Before Isidora lay that painful and perpetual struggle of fettered -strength with persecuting weakness, which, if the truth were told, would -divest half the heroines of romance of the power or wish to contend -against the difficulties that beset them. Her mansion was a prison--she -had no power (and if she possessed the power, would never have exercised -it) of obtaining an unpermitted or unobserved egress from the doors of -the house for one moment. Thus her escape was completely barred; and had -every door in the house been thrown open, she would have felt like a -bird on its first flight from the cage, without a spray that she dared -to rest on. Such was her prospect, even if she could effect her -escape--at home it was worse. - -“The stern and cold tone of authority in which her father’s letter was -written, gave her but little hope that in her father she would find a -friend. Then the feeble and yet imperious mediocrity of her mother--the -selfish and arrogant temper of Fernan--the powerful influence and -incessant documentising of Fra Jose, whose good-nature was no match for -his love of authority--the daily domestic persecution--that vinegar that -would wear out any rock--the being compelled to listen day after day to -the same exhausting repetition of exhortation, chiding, reproach, and -menace, or seek refuge in her chamber, to waste the weary hours in -loneliness and tears--this strife maintained by one strong indeed in -purpose, but feeble in power, against so many all sworn to work their -will, and have their way--this perpetual conflict with evils so trivial -in the items, but so heavy in the amount, to those who have the debt to -pay daily and hourly,--was too much for the resolution of Isidora, and -she wept in hopeless despondency, as she felt that already her courage -shrunk from the encounter, and knew not what concessions might be -extorted from her increasing inability of resistance. - -“Oh!” she cried, clasping her hands in the extremity of her distress, -“Oh that he were but here to direct, to counsel me!--that he were here -even no longer as my lover, but only as my adviser!” - -“It is said that a certain power is always at hand to facilitate the -wishes that the individual forms for his own injury; and so it should -seem in the present instance,--for she had scarce uttered these words, -when the shadow of Melmoth was seen darkening the garden walk,--and the -next moment he was beneath the casement. As she saw him approach, she -uttered a cry of mingled joy and fear, which he hushed by making a -signal of silence with his hand, and then whispered, “I know it all!” - -“Isidora was silent. She had nothing but her recent distress to -communicate,--and of that, it appeared, he was already apprized. She -waited, therefore, in mute anxiety for some words of counsel or of -comfort. “I know all!” continued Melmoth; “your father has landed in -Spain--he brings with him your destined husband. The fixed purpose of -your whole family, as obstinate as they are weak, it will be bootless in -you to resist; and this day fortnight will see you the bride of -Montilla.”--“I will first be the bride of the grave,” said Isidora, with -perfect and fearful calmness. - -“At these words, Melmoth advanced and gazed on her more closely. Any -thing of intense and terrible resolution,--of feeling or action in -extremity,--made harmony with the powerful but disordered chords of his -soul. He required her to repeat the words--she did so, with quivering -lip, but unfaultering voice. He advanced still nearer to gaze on her as -she spoke. It was a beautiful and fearful sight to see her as she -stood;--her marble face--her moveless features--her eyes in which burned -the fixed and livid light of despair, like a lamp in a sepulchral -vault--the lips that half opened, and remaining unclosed, appeared as if -the speaker was unconscious of the words that had escaped them, or -rather, as if they had burst forth by involuntary and incontroulable -impulse;--so she stood, like a statue, at her casement, the moonlight -giving her white drapery the appearance of stone, and her wrought-up and -determined mind lending the same rigidity to her expression. Melmoth -himself felt confounded--appalled he could not feel. He retreated, and -then returning, demanded, “Is this your resolution, Isidora?--and have -you indeed resolution to”---- “To die!” answered Isidora, with the same -unaltered accent,--the same calm expression,--and seeming, as she spake, -capable of all she expressed; and this union, in the same slight and -tender form, of those eternal competitors, energy and fragility, beauty -and death, made every human pulse in Melmoth’s frame beat with a -throbbing unknown before. “Can you, then,” he said, with averted head, -and in a tone that seemed ashamed of its own softness--“Can you, then, -die for him you will not live for?”--“I have said I will die sooner than -be the bride of Montilla,” answered Isidora. “Of death I know nothing, -nor do I know much of life--but I would rather perish, than be the -perjured wife of the man I cannot love.”--“And why can you not love -him?” said Melmoth, toying with the heart he held in his hand, like a -mischievous boy with a bird, around whose leg he has fastened a -string.--“Because I can love but one. You were the first human being I -ever saw who could teach me language, and who taught me feeling. Your -image is for ever before me, present or absent, sleeping or waking. I -have seen fairer forms,--I have listened to softer voices,--I might have -met gentler hearts,--but the first, the indelible image, is written on -mine, and its characters will never be effaced till that heart is a clod -of the valley. I loved you not for comeliness,--I loved you not for gay -deportment, or fond language, or all that is said to be lovely in the -eye of woman,--I loved you because you were my _first_,--the sole -connecting link between the human world and my heart,--the being who -brought me acquainted with that wondrous instrument that lay unknown and -untouched within and me, whose chords, as long as they vibrate, will -disdain to obey any touch but that of their first mover--because your -image is mixed in my imagination with all the glories of nature--because -your voice, when I heard it first, was something in accordance with the -murmur of the ocean, and the music of the stars. And still its tones -recal the unimaginable blessedness of those scenes where first I heard -it,--and still I listen to it like an exile who hears the music of his -native country in a land that is very far off,--because nature and -passion, memory and hope, alike cling round your image; and amid the -light of my former existence, and the gloom of my present, there is but -one form that retains its reality and its power through light and shade. -I am like one who has traversed many climates, and looks but to one sun -as the light of all, whether bright or obscure. I have loved once--and -for ever!” Then, trembling at the words she uttered, she added, with -that sweet mixture of maiden pride and purity that redeems while it -pledges the hostage of the heart, “The feelings I have entrusted you -with may be abused, but never alienated.”--“And these are your _real_ -feelings?” said Melmoth, pausing long, and moving his frame like one -agitated by deep and uneasy thoughts. “Real!” repeated Isidora, with -some transient glow on her cheek--“real! Can I utter any thing but what -is real? Can I so soon forget my existence?” Melmoth looked up once more -as she spoke--“If such is your resolution,--if such be your feelings -indeed,”---- “And they are!--they are!” exclaimed Isidora, her tears -bursting through the slender fingers, which, after extending towards -him, she clasped over her burning eyes. “Then look to the alternative -that awaits you!” said Melmoth slowly, bringing out the words with -difficulty, and, as it appeared, with some feeling for his victim; “a -union with the man you cannot love,--or the perpetual hostility, the -wearying, wasting, almost annihilating persecution of your family! Think -of days that”---- “Oh let me not think!” cried Isidora, wringing her -white and slender hands; “tell me--tell me what may be done to escape -them!”--“Now, in good troth,” answered Melmoth, knitting his brows with -a most cogitative wrinkle, while it was impossible to discover whether -his predominant expression was that of irony or profound and sincere -feeling--“I know not what resource you have unless you wed me.”--“Wed -you!” cried Isidora, retreating from the window--“Wed you!” and she -clasped her hands over her pale forehead;--and at this moment, when the -hope of her heart, the thread on which her existence was suspended, was -within her reach, she trembled to touch it. “Wed you!--but how is that -possible?”--“All things are possible to those who love,” said Melmoth, -with his sardonic smile, which was hid by the shades of the night. “And -you will wed me, then, by the rites of the church of which I am a -member?”--“Aye! or of any other!”--“Oh speak not so wildly!--say not -_aye_ in that horrible voice! Will you wed me as a Christian maiden -should be wed?--Will you love me as a Christian wife should be loved? My -former existence was like a dream,--but now I am awake. If I unite my -destiny to yours,--if I abandon my family, my country, my”---- “If you -do, how will you be the loser?--your family harasses and confines -you--your country would shout to see you at the stake, for you have some -heretical feelings about you, Isidora. And for the rest”---- “God!” said -the poor victim, clasping her hands, and looking upwards, “God, aid me -in this extremity!”--“If I am to wait here only as a witness to your -devotions,” said Melmoth with sullen asperity, “my stay will not be -long.”--“You cannot leave me, then, to struggle with fear and perplexity -alone! How is it possible for me to escape, even if”---- “By whatever -means I possess of entering this place and retiring unobserved,--by the -same you may effect your escape. If you have resolution, the effort will -cost you little,--if love,--nothing. Speak, shall I be here at this hour -to-morrow night, to conduct you to liberty and”---- Safety he would have -added, but his voice faultered. “_To-morrow night_,” said Isidora, after -a long pause, and in accents almost inarticulate. She closed the -casement as she spoke, and Melmoth slowly departed. - -END OF THIRD VOLUME. - - - - - Transcriber’s Note: - - The following is a list of corrections made to the original. - The first line is the original line, the second the corrected one. - - CHILDREN. - CHILDREN.” - - say to heaven, We have a sun though your’s is set;--the solemn and - say to heaven, We have a sun though yours is set;--the solemn and - - the last garment on your person, and the last denier in your purse. - the last garment on your person, and the last denier in your purse.” - - matted coil of adders, had there first recieved the bloody homage of the - matted coil of adders, had there first received the bloody homage of the - - For many a night these canoes might be seen glancing past each other - “For many a night these canoes might be seen glancing past each other - - regularity of these phœnomena, in the climate she inhabited, divested - regularity of these phænomena, in the climate she inhabited, divested - - But to this question he could obtain no satisfactory answer; and it was - “But to this question he could obtain no satisfactory answer; and it was - - smile at her as she bounded after him, breathles and glowing with newly - smile at her as she bounded after him, breathless and glowing with newly - - torn away.” - torn away. - - surmounted by a trident.--that is the temple of Maha-deva, a goddess who - surmounted by a trident,--that is the temple of Maha-deva, a goddess who - - made such an an artless transition from profound and meditative grief to - made such an artless transition from profound and meditative grief to - - Her glowing features, as she turned them toward him, with an expression - “Her glowing features, as she turned them toward him, with an expression - - CHAPTER XIV. - CHAPTER XVII. - - important subject(16), whether their iackets should be red or white--or - important subject(16), whether their jackets should be red or white--or - - CHAPTER XVII. - CHAPTER XVIII. - - than that gloom.--All around her gave to her form, when it it was momently - than that gloom.--All around her gave to her form, when it was momently - - The waves deserting their station, left, from time to time, the sands - “The waves deserting their station, left, from time to time, the sands - - pale, terrified, but resolute, retreated from him.” - pale, terrified, but resolute, retreated from him. - - CHAPTER XVII. - CHAPTER XIX. - - to welcome her. As he spoke, all eyes were turned to a figure, which, - to welcome her.” As he spoke, all eyes were turned to a figure, which, - - At the approach of a large party of females, there was all that anxious - “At the approach of a large party of females, there was all that anxious - - CHAPTER XVIII. - CHAPTER XX. - - “Excæcavit oculos eorum ne viderent.” - “Excæcavit oculos eorum ne viderent. - - subsisted, when life itself was failing? On my passsage to this Christian - subsisted, when life itself was failing? On my passage to this Christian - - first I ever heard, and which, when I cease to hear’---- “You will hear - first I ever heard, and which, when I cease to hear”---- “You will hear - - CHAPTER XIX. - CHAPTER XXI. - - CHAPTER XX. - CHAPTER XXII. - - Molinists and Jausenists, which had already visited Spain, and the - Molinists and Jansenists, which had already visited Spain, and the - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Melmoth the Wanderer Vol 3 (of 4), by -Charles Robert Maturin - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MELMOTH THE WANDERER VOL 3 (OF 4) *** - -***** This file should be named 53687-0.txt or 53687-0.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/3/6/8/53687/ - -Produced by David Edwards, Jana Srna and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This -file was produced from images generously made available -by The Internet Archive) - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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- } - - ins - { - border: none; - } - - .transcribers-note, - h1, - h2, - .footnotes, - .page-break - { - page-break-before: always; - } - - .page-break-after - { - page-break-after: always; - } -} - -@media handheld -{ - body - { - margin: auto 5%; - max-width: 100%; - } - - p - { - line-height: 1.2em; - margin: 0.3em auto; - } - - .poetry - { - display: block; - margin-left: 2em; - } - - .stanza .center - { - text-align: left; - margin: 0.5em auto auto 3em; - } - - ul#corrections li - { - margin: 0; - } - - .footnotes - { - margin: 8em 7.5%; - padding: 1em 0; - border-top: 1px solid black; - border-bottom: 1px solid black; - } -} ---> -</style> -<!--[if lt IE 8]> -<style type="text/css"> -a[title].pagenum -{ - position: static; -} -</style> -<![endif]--> -</head> -<body> - - -<pre> - -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Melmoth the Wanderer Vol 3 (of 4), by -Charles Robert Maturin - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - - - -Title: Melmoth the Wanderer Vol 3 (of 4) - -Author: Charles Robert Maturin - -Release Date: December 7, 2016 [EBook #53687] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MELMOTH THE WANDERER VOL 3 (OF 4) *** - - - - -Produced by David Edwards, Jana Srna and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This -file was produced from images generously made available -by The Internet Archive) - - - - - - -</pre> - - - -<div class="transcribers-note"> -<p class="center"><b>Transcriber’s Notes:</b></p> - -<p>Every effort has been made to replicate this text as faithfully -as possible, including inconsistencies in spelling, hyphenation, and punctuation.</p> - -<p>Some corrections of spelling and punctuation have been made. -<span class="screen">They are marked <ins title="transcriber's note">like -this</ins> in the text. The original text appears when hovering the cursor -over the marked text.</span> A <a href="#tn-bottom">list of amendments</a> is -at the end of the text.</p> -</div> - -<h1><big>MELMOTH</big><br /> -<small>THE</small><br /> -WANDERER:<br /> -<small>A</small><br /> -TALE.</h1> - -<p class="center">BY THE AUTHOR OF “BERTRAM,” &c.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p class="center">IN FOUR VOLUMES.</p> - -<p class="center">VOL. III.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p class="center spaced"><big>EDINBURGH:</big><br /> -PRINTED FOR ARCHIBALD CONSTABLE AND COMPANY,<br /> -<small>AND HURST, ROBINSON, AND CO. CHEAPSIDE,<br /> -LONDON.</small></p> - -<hr class="short-line"/> - -<p class="center">1820.</p> - -<p class="center page-break" style="font-size: x-large;"><a class="pagenum" name="Page_1" title="1"> </a>MELMOTH.</p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 id="Chapter_XII">CHAPTER XII.</h2> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="line">Juravi lingua, mentem injuratam gero.<span style="white-space: nowrap;">——</span><br /></div> -<div class="line">Who brought you first acquainted with the devil?<br /></div> -<div class="line right small-caps">Shirley’s St Patrick for Ireland.<br /></div> -</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="drop-cap"><span class="small-caps">“I ran</span> on till I had no longer breath or -strength, (without perceiving that I was -in a dark passage), till I was stopt by a -door. In falling against it, I burst it open, -and found myself in a low dark room. -When I raised myself, for I had fallen on -my hands and knees, I looked round, and -saw something so singular, as to suspend -even my personal anxiety and terror for a -moment.</p> - -<p><a class="pagenum" name="Page_2" title="2"> </a>“The room was very small; and I could -perceive by the rents, that I had not only -broken open a door, but a large curtain -which hung before it, whose ample folds -still afforded me concealment if I required -it. There was no one in the room, and I -had time to study its singular furniture at -leisure.</p> - -<p>“There was a table covered with cloth; -on it were placed a vessel of a singular construction, -a book, into whose pages I looked, -but could not make out a single letter. -I therefore wisely took it for a book of magic, -and closed it with a feeling of exculpatory -horror. (It happened to be a -copy of the Hebrew Bible, marked with -the Samaritan points). There was a knife -too; and a cock was fastened to the leg of -the table, whose loud crows announced his -impatience of further constraint<a name="FootnoteMarker_1" href="#Footnote_1" class="footnote-marker">(1)</a>.</p> - -<p><a class="pagenum" name="Page_3" title="3"> </a>“I felt that this apparatus was somewhat -singular—it looked like a preparation -for a sacrifice. I shuddered, and -wrapt myself in the volumes of the drapery -which hung before the door my fall -had broken open. A dim lamp, suspended -from the ceiling, discovered to me all these -objects, and enabled me to observe what -followed almost immediately. A man of -middle age, but whose physiognomy had -something peculiar in it, even to the eye -of a Spaniard, from the clustering darkness -of his eye-brows, his prominent nose, and -a certain lustre in the balls of his eyes, entered -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_4" title="4"> </a> -the room, knelt before the table, kissed -the book that lay on it, and read from -it some sentences that were to precede, as I -imagined, some horrible sacrifice;—felt the -edge of the knife, knelt again, uttered -some words which I did not understand, -(as they were in the language of that book), -and then called aloud on some one by the -name of Manasseh-ben-Solomon. No one -answered. He sighed, passed his hand -over his eyes with the air of a man who is -asking pardon of himself for a short forgetfulness, -and then pronounced the name of -“Antonio.” A young man immediately -entered, and answered, “Did you call me, -Father?”—But while he spoke, he threw -a hollow and wandering glance on the singular -furniture of the room.</p> - -<p>“I called you, my son, and why did you -not answer me?”—“I did not hear you, father—I -mean, I did not think it was on -me you called. I heard only a name I -was never called by before. When you -said ‘Antonio,’ I obeyed you—I came.”—“But -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_5" title="5"> </a> -<em>that</em> is the name by which you -must in future be called and be known, -to me at least, unless you prefer another.—You -shall have your choice.”—“My father, -I shall adopt whatever name you choose.”—“No; -the choice of your new name -must be your own—you must, for the future, -either adopt the name you have heard, -or another.”—“What other, Sir?”—“<em>That -of parricide.</em>” The youth shuddered with -horror, less at the words than at the expression -that accompanied them; and, after -looking at his father for some time in -a posture of tremulous and supplicating -inquiry, he burst into tears. The father -seized the moment. He grasped the arms -of his son, “My child, I gave you life, and -you may repay the gift—my life is in your -power. You think me a Catholic—I have -brought you up as one for the preservation -of our mutual lives, in a country where -the confession of the true faith would infallibly -cost both. I am one of that unhappy -race every where stigmatized and -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_6" title="6"> </a> -spoken against, yet on whose industry and -talent the ungrateful country that anathematizes -us, depends for half the sources of -its national prosperity. I am a Jew, “an -Israelite,” one of those to whom, even by -the confession of a Christian apostle, “pertain -the adoption, and the glory, and the -covenants, and the giving of the law, and -the service of God, and the promises; whose -are the fathers, and of whom as concerning -the flesh—” Here he paused, not willing -to go on with a quotation that would have -contradicted his sentiments. He added, -“The Messias will come, whether suffering -or triumphant<a name="FootnoteMarker_2" href="#Footnote_2" class="footnote-marker">(2)</a>. I am a Jew. I called -you at the hour of your birth by the -name of Manasseh-ben-Solomon. I called -on you by that name, which I felt had -clung to the bottom of my heart from that -hour, and which, echoing from its abyss, -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_7" title="7"> </a> -I almost hoped you would have recognized. -It was a dream, but will you not, my -beloved child, realize that dream? Will -you not?—will you not? The God of -your fathers is waiting to embrace you—and -your father is at your feet, imploring -you to follow the faith of your father Abraham, -the prophet Moses, and all the -holy prophets who are with God, and -who look down on this moment of your -soul’s vacillation between the abominable -idolatries of those who not only adore -the Son of the carpenter, but even impiously -compel you to fall down before -the image of the woman his mother, -and adore her by the blasphemous name -of Mother of God,—and the pure voice of -those who call on you to worship the God -of your fathers, the God of ages, the eternal -God of heaven and earth, without son -or mother, without child or descendant, (as -impiously presumed in their blasphemous -creed), without even worshipper, save those -who, like me, sacrifice their hearts to him -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_8" title="8"> </a> -in solitude, at the risk of those hearts being -<span class="small-caps all-upper">PIERCED BY THEIR OWN CHILDREN</span><ins title=".">.”</ins></p> - -<p>“At these words, the young man, overcome -by all he saw and heard, and quite -unprepared for this sudden transition from -Catholicism to Judaism, burst into tears. -The father seized the moment, “My child, -you are now to profess yourself the slave -of these idolaters, who are cursed in the -law of Moses, and by the commandment -of God,—or to enrol yourself among the -faithful, whose rest shall be in the bosom -of Abraham, and who, reposing there, shall -see the unbelieving crawling over the burning -ashes of hell, and supplicate you in -vain for a drop of water, according to the -legends of their own prophet. And does -not such a picture excite your pride to deny -them a drop?”—“I would not deny -them a drop,” sobbed the youth, “I would -give them these tears.”—“Reserve them -for your father’s grave,” added the Jew, -“for to the grave you have doomed me.—I -have lived, sparing, watching, temporizing, -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_9" title="9"> </a> -with these accursed idolaters, for <em>you</em>. -And now—and now you reject a God who -is alone able to save, and a father kneeling -to implore you to accept that salvation.”—“No, -I do not,” said the bewildered youth.—“What, -then, do you determine?—I am -at your feet to know your resolution. Behold, -the mysterious instruments of your -initiation are ready. There is the uncorrupted -book of Moses, the prophet of God, -as these idolaters themselves confess. -There are all the preparations for the year -of expiation—determine whether those -rites shall now dedicate you to the true -God, or seize your father, (who has put his -life into your hands), and drag him by the -throat into the prisons of the Inquisition. -You may—you can—<em>will you?</em>”</p> - -<p>“In prostrate and tremulous agony, the -father held up his locked hands to his -child. I seized the moment—despair had -made me reckless. I understood not a -word of what was said, except the reference -to the Inquisition. I seized on that -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_10" title="10"> </a> -last word—I grasped, in my despair, at the -heart of father and child. I rushed from -behind the curtain, and exclaiming, “If -he does not betray you to the Inquisition, -<em>I will</em>.” I fell at his feet. This mixture -of defiance and prostration, my squalid -figure, my inquisitorial habit, and my -bursting on this secret and solemn interview, -struck the Jew with a horror he -vainly gasped to express, till, rising from -my knees, on which I had fallen from my -weakness, I added, “Yes, I will betray -you to the Inquisition, unless you instantly -promise to shelter me from it.” The -Jew glanced at my dress, perceived his -danger and mine, and, with a <em>physical</em> presence -of mind unparalleled, except in a -man under strong impressions of mental -excitation and personal danger, bustled about -to remove every trace of the expiatory -sacrifice, and of my inquisitorial costume, -in a moment. In the same breath -he called aloud for <em>Rebekah</em>, to remove the -vessels from the table; bid <em>Antonio</em> quit -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_11" title="11"> </a> -the apartment, and hastened to clothe me -in some dress that he had snatched from a -wardrobe collected from centuries; while -he tore off my inquisitorial dress with a -violence that left me actually naked, and -the habit in rags.</p> - -<p>“There was something at once fearful -and ludicrous in the scene that followed. -Rebekah, an old Jewish woman, came -at his call; but, seeing a third person, retreated -in terror, while her master, in his -confusion, called her in vain by her <em>Christian</em> -name of Maria. Obliged to remove -the table alone, he overthrew it, and broke -the leg of the unfortunate animal fastened -to it, who, not to be without his share -in the tumult, uttered the most shrill and -intolerable screams, while the Jew, snatching -up the sacrificial knife, repeated eagerly, -“Statim mactat gallum,” and put the -wretched bird out of its pain; then, trembling -at this open avowal of his Judaism, -he sat down amid the ruins of the overthrown -table, the fragments of the broken -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_12" title="12"> </a> -vessels, and the remains of the martyred -cock. He gazed at me with a look of stupified -and ludicrous inanity, and demanded -in delirious tones, what “my lords the -Inquisitors had pleased to visit his humble -but highly-honoured mansion for?” I -was scarce less deranged than he was; -and, though we both spoke the same language, -and were forced by circumstances -into the same strange and desperate confidence -with each other, we really needed, -for the first half-hour, a rational interpreter -of our exclamations, starts of fear, and -bursts of disclosure. At last our mutual -terror acted honestly between us, and we -understood each other. The end of the -matter was, that, in less than an hour, I -felt myself clad in a comfortable garment, -seated at a table amply spread, watched -over by my involuntary host, and watching -him in turn with red wolfish eyes, -which glanced from his board to his person, -as if I could, at a moment’s hint of -danger from <em>his</em> treachery, have changed -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_13" title="13"> </a> -my meal, and feasted on his life-blood. -No such danger occurred,—my host was -more afraid of me than I had reason to be -of him, and for many causes. He was a -Jew <em>innate</em>, an impostor,—a wretch, who, -drawing sustenance from the bosom of our -holy mother the church, had turned her -nutriment to poison, and attempted to infuse -that poison into the lips of his son. -I was but a fugitive from the Inquisition,—a -prisoner, who had a kind of instinctive -and very venial dislike to giving the -Inquisitors the trouble of lighting the faggots -for <em>me</em>, which would be much better -employed in consuming the adherent to -the law of Moses. In fact, impartiality -considered, there was every thing in my -favour, and the Jew just acted as if he felt -so,—but all this I ascribed to his terrors of -the Inquisition.</p> - -<p>“That night I slept,—I know not how -or where. I had wild dreams before I -slept, if I did sleep; and after,—such visions,—such -<em>things</em>, passed in dread and -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_14" title="14"> </a> -stern reality before me. I have often in -my memory searched for the traces of the -first night I passed under the roof of the -Jew, but can find nothing,—nothing except -a conviction of my utter insanity. It might -not have been so,—I know not how it was. -I remember his lighting me up a narrow -stair, and my asking him, was he lighting -me <em>down</em> the steps of the dungeons of the -Inquisition?—his throwing open a door, -and my asking him, was it the door of the -torture-room?—his attempting to undress -me, and my exclaiming, “Do not bind -me too tight,—I know I must suffer, but -be merciful;”—his throwing me on the -bed, while I shrieked, “Well, you have -bound me on the rack, then?—strain it -hard, that I may forget myself the sooner; -but let your surgeon not be near to watch -my pulse,—let it cease to throb, and let -me cease to suffer.” I remember no more -for many days, though I have struggled -to do so, and caught from time to time -glimpses of thoughts better lost. Oh, Sir, -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_15" title="15"> </a> -there are some <em>criminals of the imagination</em>, -whom if we could plunge into the -<i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">oubliettes</i> of its magnificent but lightly-based -fabric, its lord would reign more -happy. * * * -* * * *</p> - -<p>“Many days elapsed, indeed, before the -Jew began to feel his immunity somewhat -dearly purchased, by the additional maintenance -of a troublesome, and, I fear, a -deranged inmate. He took the first opportunity -that the recovery of my intellect -offered, of hinting this to me, and inquired -mildly what I purposed to do, and -where I meant to go. This question for -the first time opened to my view that -range of hopeless and interminable desolation -that lay before me,—the Inquisition -had laid waste the whole track of life, as -with fire and sword. I had not a spot to -stand on, a meal to earn, a hand to grasp, -a voice to greet, a roof to crouch under, -in the whole realm of Spain.</p> - -<p>“You are not to learn, Sir, that the power -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_16" title="16"> </a> -of the Inquisition, like that of death, separates -you, by its single touch, from all mortal -relations. From the moment its grasp -has seized you, all human hands unlock their -hold of yours,—you have no longer father, -mother, sister, or child. The most devoted -and affectionate of all those relatives, -who, in the natural intercourse of human -life, would have laid their hands under -your feet to procure you a smoother passage -over its roughnesses, would be the -first to grasp the faggot that was to reduce -you to ashes, if the Inquisition were to -demand the sacrifice. I knew all this; -and I felt, besides, that, had I never been -a prisoner in the Inquisition, I was an isolated -being, rejected by father and mother,—the -involuntary murderer of my brother, -the only being on earth who loved me, or -whom I could love or profit by,—that being -who seemed to flash across my brief -<em>human</em> existence, to illuminate and to -blast. The bolt had perished with the victim. -In Spain it was impossible for me -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_17" title="17"> </a> -to live without detection, unless I plunged -myself into an imprisonment as profound -and hopeless as that of the Inquisition. -And, if a miracle were wrought to -convey me out of Spain, ignorant as I was -of the language, the habits, and the modes -of obtaining subsistence, in that or any -other country, how could I support myself -even for a day. Absolute famine -stared me in the face, and a sense of degradation -accompanying my consciousness -of my own utter and desolate helplessness, -was the keenest shaft in the quiver, -whose contents were lodged in my heart. -My consequence was actually lessened in -my own eyes, by ceasing to become the -victim of persecution, by which I had -suffered so long. <em>While people think it -worth their while to torment us, we are -never without some dignity, though painful -and imaginary.</em> Even in the Inquisition -I belonged to somebody,—I was -watched and guarded;—now, I was the -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_18" title="18"> </a> -outcast of the whole earth, and I wept -with equal bitterness and depression at -the hopeless vastness of the desert I had -to traverse.</p> - -<p>“The Jew, not at all disturbed by these -feelings, went daily out for intelligence, -and returned one evening in such raptures, -that I could easily discover he had ascertained -his own safety at least, if not mine. -He informed me that the current report in -Madrid was, that I had perished in the -fall of the burning ruins on the night of -the fire. He added, that this report had -received additional currency and strength -from the fact, that the bodies of those who -had perished by the fall of the arch, were, -when discovered, so defaced by fire, and -so crushed by the massive fragments, as -to be utterly undistinguishable;—their remains -had been collected, however, and -mine were supposed to be among the number. -A mass had been performed for -them, and <em>their cinders, occupying but a -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_19" title="19"> </a> -single coffin</em><a name="FootnoteMarker_3" href="#Footnote_3" class="footnote-marker">(3)</a>, were interred in the vaults -of the Dominican church, while some of -the first families of Spain, in the deepest -mourning, and their faces veiled, testified -their grief in silence for those whom they -would have shuddered to acknowledge -their mortal relationship to, had they been -still living. Certainly a lump of cinders -was no longer an object even of religious -hostility. My mother, he added, was -among the number of mourners, but with -a veil so long and thick, and attendance so -few, that it would have been impossible -to have known the Duchess di Monçada, -but for the whisper that her appearance -there had been enjoined for penance. He -added, what gave me more perfect satisfaction, -that the holy office was very glad -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_20" title="20"> </a> -to accredit the story of my death; they -wished me to be believed dead, and what -the Inquisition wishes to be believed, is -rarely denied belief in Madrid. This signing -my certificate of death, was to me the -best security for life. In the communicativeness -of his joy, which had expanded -his heart, if not his hospitality, the Jew, -as I swallowed my bread and water, (for -my stomach still loathed all animal food), -informed me that there was a procession to -take place that evening, the most solemn -and superb ever witnessed in Madrid. -The holy office was to appear in all the -pomp and plenitude of its glory, accompanied -by the standards of St Dominic and -the cross, while all the ecclesiastical orders -in Madrid were to attend with their appropriate -insignia, invested by a strong -military guard, (which, for some reason or -other, was judged necessary or proper), -and, attended by the whole populace of -Madrid, was to proceed to the principal -church to humiliate themselves for the recent -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_21" title="21"> </a> -calamity they had undergone, and -implore the saints to be more personally -active in the event of a future conflagration.</p> - -<p>“The evening came on—the Jew left -me; and, under an impression at once unaccountable -and irresistible, I ascended -to the highest apartment in his house, -and, with a beating heart, listened for the -toll of the bells that was to announce the -commencement of the ceremony. I had -not long to wait. At the close of twilight, -every steeple in the city was vibrating -with the tolls of their well-plied bells. I -was in an upper room of the house. -There was but one window; but, hiding -myself behind the blind, which I withdrew -from time to time, I had a full view of the -spectacle. The house of the Jew looked -out on an open space, through which the -procession was to pass, and which was already -so filled, that I wondered how the -procession could ever make its way through -such a wedged and impenetrable mass. At -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_22" title="22"> </a> -last, I could distinguish a motion like that -of a distant power, giving a kind of indefinite -impulse to the vast body that rolled -and blackened beneath me, like the ocean -under the first and far-felt agitations of the -storm.</p> - -<p>“The crowd rocked and reeled, but did -not seem to give way an inch. The procession -commenced. I could see it approach, -marked as it was by the crucifix, -banner, and taper—(for they had reserved -the procession till a late hour, to give it the -imposing effect of torch-light.) And I saw -the multitude at a vast distance give way -at once. Then came on the stream of the -procession, rushing, like a magnificent -river, between two banks of human bodies, -who kept as regular and strict distance, -as if they had been ramparts of -stone,—the banners, and crucifixes, and -tapers, appearing like the crests of foam -on advancing billows, sometimes rising, -sometimes sinking. At last they came on, -and the whole grandeur of the procession -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_23" title="23"> </a> -burst on my view, and nothing was ever -more imposing, or more magnificent. The -habits of the ecclesiastics, the glare of the -torches struggling with the dying twilight, -and seeming to say to heaven, We have a -sun though <ins title="your’s">yours</ins> is set;—the solemn and -resolute look of the whole party, who trod -as if their march were on the bodies of -kings, and looked as if they would have -said, What is the sceptre to the cross?—the -black crucifix itself, trembling in the -rear, attended by the banner of St Dominick, -with its awful inscription.—It was a -sight to convert all hearts, and I exulted I -was a Catholic. Suddenly a tumult seemed -to arise among the crowd—I knew not -from what it could arise—all seemed so -pleased and so elated.</p> - -<p>“I drew away the blind, and saw, by -torch-light, among a crowd of officials who -clustered round the standard of St Dominick, -the figure of my companion. His -story was well known. At first a faint -hiss was heard, then a wild and smothered -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_24" title="24"> </a> -howl. Then I heard voices among the -crowd repeat, in audible sounds, “What -is this for? Why do they ask why the -Inquisition has been half-burned?—why -the virgin has withdrawn her protection?—why -the saints turn away their faces -from us?—when a parricide marches among -the officials of the Inquisition. Are -the hands that have cut a father’s throat -fit to support the banner of the cross?” -These were the words but of a few at first, -but the whisper spread rapidly among the -crowd; and fierce looks were darted, and -hands were clenched and raised, and some -stooped to the earth for stones. The procession -went on, however, and every one -knelt to the crucifixes as they advanced, -held aloft by the priests. But the murmurs -increased too, and the words, “parricide, -profanation, and victim,” resounded -on every side, even from those who knelt -in the mire as the cross passed by. The -murmur increased—it could no longer be -mistaken for that of adoration. The foremost -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_25" title="25"> </a> -priests paused in terror ill concealed—and -this seemed the signal for the terrible -scene that was about to follow. An -officer belonging to the guard at this time -ventured to intimate to the chief Inquisitor -the danger that might be apprehended, -but was dismissed with the short and sullen -answer, “Move on—the servants of -Christ have nothing to fear.” The procession -attempted to proceed, but their progress -was obstructed by the multitude, -who now seemed bent on some deadly -purpose. A few stones were thrown; but -the moment the priests raised their crucifixes, -the multitude were on their knees -again, still, however, holding the stones -in their hands. The military officers again -addressed the chief Inquisitor, and -intreated his permission to disperse the -crowd. They received the same dull -and stern answer, “The cross is sufficient -for the protection of its servants—whatever -fears you may feel, I feel none.” -Incensed at the reply, a young officer -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_26" title="26"> </a> -sprung on his horse, which he had quitted -from respect while addressing the Suprema, -and was in a moment levelled by the -blow of a stone that fractured his skull. -He turned his blood-swimming eyes on -the Inquisitor, and died. The multitude -raised a wild shout, and pressed closer. -Their intentions were now too plain. -They pressed close on that part of the procession -among which their victim was -placed. Again, and in the most urgent -terms, the officers implored leave to disperse -the crowd, or at least cover the retreat -of the obnoxious object to some -neighbouring church, or even to the walls -of the Inquisition. And the wretched -man himself, with loud outcries, (as he -saw the danger thickening around him), -joined in their petition. The Suprema, -though looking pale, bated not a jot -of his pride. “These are my arms!” he -exclaimed, pointing to the crucifixes, “and -their inscription is <span class="greek" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc" title="en-toutô-nika">εν-τουτω-νικα</span>. I forbid a -sword to be drawn, or a musket to be -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_27" title="27"> </a> -levelled. On, in the name of God.” And -on they attempted to move, but the pressure -now rendered it impossible. The multitude, -unrepressed by the military, became -ungovernable; the crosses reeled and rocked -like standards in a battle; the ecclesiastics, -in confusion and terror, pressed on -each other. Amid that vast mass, every -particle of which seemed in motion, there -was but one emphatic and discriminate -movement—that which bore a certain part -of the crowd strait on to the spot where -their victim, though inclosed and inwrapt -by all that is formidable in earthly, and all -that is awful in spiritual power—sheltered -by the crucifix and the sword—stood trembling -to the bottom of his soul. The Suprema -saw his error too late, and now called -loudly on the military to advance, and -disperse the crowd by any means. They -attempted to obey him; but by this time -they were mingled among the crowd themselves. -All order had ceased; and besides, -there appeared a kind of indisposition to -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_28" title="28"> </a> -this service, from the very first, among the -military. They attempted to charge, however; -but, entangled as they were among -the crowd, who clung round their horses -hoofs, it was impossible for them even to -form, and the first shower of stones threw -them into total confusion. The danger -increased every moment, for one spirit now -seemed to animate the whole multitude. -What had been the stifled growl of a few, -was now the audible yell of all—“Give -him to us—we must have him;” and they -tossed and roared like a thousand waves -assailing a wreck. As the military retreated, -a hundred priests instantly closed -round the unhappy man, and with generous -despair exposed themselves to the fury -of the multitude. While the Suprema, -hastening to the dreadful spot, stood in -the front of the priests, with the cross -uplifted,—his face was like that of the -dead, but his eye had not lost a single -flash of its fire, nor his voice a tone of -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_29" title="29"> </a> -its pride. It was in vain; the multitude -proceeded calmly, and even respectfully, -(when not resisted), to remove all -that obstructed their progress; in doing -so, they took every care of the persons of -priests whom they were compelled to remove, -repeatedly asking their pardon for -the violence they were guilty of. And -this tranquillity of resolved vengeance was -the most direful indication of its never -desisting till its purpose was accomplished. -The last ring was broken—the last resister -overcome. Amid yells like those of a -thousand tigers, the victim was seized and -dragged forth, grasping in both hands fragments -of the robes of those he had clung -to in vain, and holding them up in the -impotence of despair.</p> - -<p>“The cry was hushed for a moment, as -they felt him in their talons, and gazed on -him with thirsty eyes. Then it was renewed, -and the work of blood began. -They dashed him to the earth—tore him -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_30" title="30"> </a> -up again—flung him into the air—tossed -him from hand to hand, as a bull gores the -howling mastiff with horns right and left. -Bloody, defaced, blackened with earth, -and battered with stones, he struggled and -roared among them, till a loud cry announced -the hope of a termination to a -scene alike horrible to humanity, and disgraceful -to civilization. The military, -strongly reinforced, came galloping on, -and all the ecclesiastics, with torn habits, -and broken crucifixes, following fast in -the rear,—all eager in the cause of human -nature—all on fire to prevent this -base and barbarous disgrace to the name -of Christianity and of human nature.</p> - -<p>“Alas! this interference only hastened -the horrible catastrophe. There was but -a shorter space for the multitude to work -their furious will. I saw, I felt, but I cannot -describe, the last moments of this horrible -scene. Dragged from the mud and -stones, they dashed a mangled lump of -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_31" title="31"> </a> -flesh right against the door of the house -where I was. With his tongue hanging -from his lacerated mouth, like that of a -baited bull; with one eye torn from the -socket, and dangling on his bloody cheek; -with a fracture in every limb, and a wound -for every pore, he still howled for “life—life—life—mercy!” -till a stone, aimed by -some pitying hand, struck him down. -He fell, trodden in one moment into sanguine -and discoloured mud by a thousand -feet. The cavalry came on, charging -with fury. The crowd, saturated -with cruelty and blood, gave way in grim -silence. But they had not left a joint of -his little finger—a hair of his head—a slip -of his skin. Had Spain mortgaged all her -reliques from Madrid to Monserrat, from -the Pyrennees to Gibraltar, she could not -have recovered the paring of a nail to canonize. -The officer who headed the troop -dashed his horse’s hoofs into a bloody formless -mass, and demanded, “Where was -the victim?” He was answered, “Beneath -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_32" title="32"> </a> -your horse’s feet<a name="FootnoteMarker_4" href="#Footnote_4" class="footnote-marker">(4)</a>;” and they departed. * * * * -* * * * *</p> - -<p>“It is a fact, Sir, that while witnessing -this horrible execution, I felt all the effects -vulgarly ascribed to fascination. I shuddered -at the first movement—the dull and -deep whisper among the crowd. I shrieked -involuntarily when the first decisive -movements began among them; but when -at last the human shapeless carrion was -dashed against the door, I echoed the wild -shouts of the multitude with a kind of savage -instinct. I bounded—I clasped my -hands for a moment—then I echoed the -screams of the thing that seemed no longer -to live, but still could scream; and I -screamed aloud and wildly for life—life—and -mercy! One face was turned towards -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_33" title="33"> </a> -me as I shrieked in unconscious tones. -The glance, fixed on me for a moment, -was in a moment withdrawn. The -flash of the well-known eyes made no -impression on me then. My existence -was so purely mechanical, that, without -the least consciousness of my own danger, -(scarce less than that of the victim, had I -been detected), I remained uttering shout -for shout, and scream for scream—offering -worlds in imagination to be able to remove -from the window, yet feeling as if every -shriek I uttered was as a nail that fastened -me to it—dropping my eye-lids, and feeling -as if a hand held them open, or cut -them away—forcing me to gaze on all that -passed below, like Regulus, with his lids -cut off, compelled to gaze on the sun that -withered up his eye-balls—till sense, and -sight, and soul, failed me, and I fell grasping -by the bars of the window, and mimicking, -in my horrid trance, the shouts -of the multitude, and the yell of the devoted<a name="FootnoteMarker_5" href="#Footnote_5" class="footnote-marker">(5)</a>. -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_34" title="34"> </a> -I actually for a moment believed -myself the object of their cruelty. The -drama of terror has the irresistible power -of converting its audience into its victims.</p> - -<p>“The Jew had kept apart from the tumult -of the night. He had, I suppose, -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_35" title="35"> </a> -been saying within himself, in the language -of your admirable poet,</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="line">“Oh, Father Abraham, what these Christians are!”<br /></div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="no-indent">But when he returned at a late hour, he -was struck with horror at the state in -which he found me. I was delirious,—raving, -and all he could say or do to soothe -me, was in vain. My imagination had -been fearfully impressed, and the consternation -of the poor Jew was, I have been -told, equally ludicrous and dismal. In his -terror, he forgot all the technical formality -of the Christian names by which he had -uniformly signalized his household, since -his residence in Madrid at least. He called -aloud on Manasseh-ben-Solomon his -son, and Rebekah his maid, to assist in -holding me. “Oh, Father Abraham, my -ruin is certain, this maniac will discover -all, and Manasseh-ben-Solomon, my son, -will die uncircumcised.”</p> - -<p>“These words operating on my delirium, -I started up, and, grasping the Jew -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_36" title="36"> </a> -by the throat, arraigned him as a prisoner -of the Inquisition. The terrified wretch, -falling on his knees, vociferated, “My -cock,—my cock,—my cock! oh! I am undone!” -Then, grasping my knees, “I am -no Jew,—my son, Manasseh-ben-Solomon, -is a Christian; you will not betray him, -you will not betray <em>me</em>,—me who have -saved your life. Manasseh,—I mean Antonio,—Rebekah,—no, -Maria, help me to -hold him. Oh God of Abraham, my -cock, and my sacrifice of expiation, and -this maniac to burst on the recesses of our -privacy, to tear open the veil of the tabernacle!”—“Shut -the tabernacle,” said Rebekah, -the old domestic whom I have before -mentioned; “yea, shut the tabernacle, -and close up the veils thereof, for behold -there be men knocking at the door,—men -who are children of Belial, and they knock -with staff and stone; and, verily, they are -about to break in the door, and demolish -the carved work thereof with axes and -hammers.”—“Thou liest,” said the Jew, -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_37" title="37"> </a> -in much perturbation: “there is no carved -work thereabout, nor dare they break it -down with axes and hammers; peradventure -it is but an assault of the children of -Belial, in their rioting and drunkenness. -I pray thee, Rebekah, to watch the door, -and keep off the sons of Belial, even the -sons of the mighty of the sinful city—the -city of Madrid, while I remove this blaspheming -carrion, who struggleth with me,—yea, -struggleth mightily,” (and struggle -I did mightily). But, as I struggled, the -knocks at the door became louder and -stronger; and, as I was carried off, the -Jew continued to repeat, “Set thy face against -them, Rebekah; yea, set thy face -like a flint.” As he retired, Rebekah exclaimed, -“Behold I have set my back against -them, for my face now availeth not. -My back is that which I will oppose, and -verily I shall prevail.”—“I pray thee, Rebekah,” -cried the Jew, “oppose thy <span class="small-caps all-upper">FACE</span> -unto them, and verily that shall prevail. -Try not the adversary with thy back, but -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_38" title="38"> </a> -oppose thy face unto them; and behold, if -they are men, they shall flee, even though -they were a thousand, at the rebuke of -one. I pray thee try thy face once more, -Rebekah, while I send this scape-goat -into the wilderness. Surely thy face is -enough to drive away those who knocked -by night at the door of that house in Gibeah, -in the matter of the wife of the Benjamite.” -The knocking all this time increased. -“Behold my back is broken,” -cried Rebekah, giving up her watch -and ward, “for, of a verity, the weapons -of the mighty do smite the lintels -and door-posts; and mine arms are not -steel, neither are my ribs iron, and behold -I fail,—yea, I fail, and fall backwards into -the hands of the uncircumcised.” And so -saying, she fell backwards as the door gave -way, and fell not, as she feared, into the -hands of the uncircumcised, but into those -of two of her countrymen, who, it appeared, -had some extraordinary reason for this -late visit and forcible entrance.</p> - -<p><a class="pagenum" name="Page_39" title="39"> </a>“The Jew, apprized who they were, -quitted me, after securing the door, and -sat up the greater part of the night, in -earnest conversation with his visitors. -Whatever was their subject, it left traces -of the most intense anxiety on the countenance -of the Jew the next morning. -He went out early, did not return till a -late hour, and then hastened to the room -I occupied, and expressed the utmost delight -at finding me sane and composed. -Candles were placed on the table, Rebekah -dismissed, the door secured, and the -Jew, after taking many uneasy turns about -the narrow apartment, and often clearing -his throat, at length sat down, and ventured -to entrust me with the cause of his -perturbation, in which, with the fatal consciousness -of the unhappy, I already began -to feel <em>I</em> must have a share. He told -me, that though the report of my death, -so universally credited through Madrid, -had at first set his mind at ease, there was -now a wild story, which, with all its falsehood -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_40" title="40"> </a> -and impossibility, might, in its circulation, -menace us with the most fearful -consequences. He asked me, was it possible -I could have been so imprudent as to -expose myself to view on the day of that -horrible execution? and when I confessed -that I had stood at a window, and had involuntarily -uttered cries that I feared -might have reached some ears, he wrung -his hands, and a sweat of consternation -burst out on his pallid features. When he -recovered himself, he told me it was universally -believed that my spectre had appeared -on that terrible occasion,—that I -had been seen hovering in the air, to witness -the sufferings of the dying wretch,—and -that my voice had been heard summoning -him to his eternal doom. He -added, that this story, possessing all the -credibility of superstition, was now repeated -by a thousand mouths; and whatever -contempt might be attached to its absurdity, -it would infallibly operate as a hint -to the restless vigilance, and unrelaxing -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_41" title="41"> </a> -industry of the holy office, and might ultimately -lead to my discovery. He therefore -was about to disclose to me a secret, -the knowledge of which would enable me -to remain in perfect security even in the -centre of Madrid, until some means might -be devised of effecting my escape, and -procuring me the means of subsistence in -some Protestant country, beyond the reach -of the Inquisition.</p> - -<p>“As he was about to disclose this secret -on which the safety of both depended, and -which I bent in speechless agony to hear, a -knock was heard at the door, very unlike -the knocks of the preceding night. It was -single, solemn, peremptory,—and followed -by a demand to open the doors of the house -in the name of the most holy Inquisition. -At these terrible words, the wretched Jew -flung himself on his knees, blew out the -candles, called on the names of the twelve -patriarchs, and slipped a large rosary on -his arm, in less time than it is possible to -conceive any human frame could go -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_42" title="42"> </a> -through such a variety of movements. -The knock was repeated,—I stood paralyzed; -but the Jew, springing on his feet, -raised one of the boards of the floor in a -moment, and, with a motion between convulsion -and instinct, pointed to me to descend. -I did so, and found myself in a -moment in darkness and in safety.</p> - -<p>“I had descended but a few steps, on -the last of which I stood trembling, when -the officers of the Inquisition entered the -room, and stalked over the very board -that concealed me. I could hear every -word that passed. “Don Fernan,” said -an officer to the Jew, who re-entered with -them, after respectfully opening the door, -“why were we not admitted sooner?”—“Holy -Father,” said the trembling Jew, -“my only domestic, Maria, is old and -deaf, the youth my son is in his bed, and -I was myself engaged in my devotions.”—“It -seems you can perform them in the -dark,” said another, pointing to the candles, -which the Jew was re-lighting.—“When -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_43" title="43"> </a> -the eye of God is on me, most -reverend fathers, I am never in darkness.”—“The -eye of God <em>is</em> on you,” said the -officer, sternly seating himself; “and so is -another eye, to which he has deputed the -sleepless vigilance and resistless penetration -of his own,—the eye of the holy office. -Don Fernan di Nunez,” the name -by which the Jew went, “you are not ignorant -of the indulgence extended by the -church, to those who have renounced the -errors of that accursed and misbelieving -race from which you are descended, but -you must be also aware of its incessant vigilance -being directed towards such individuals, -from the suspicion necessarily attached -to their doubtful conversion, and -possible relapse. We know that the black -blood of Grenada flowed in the tainted -veins of your ancestry, and that not more -than four centuries have elapsed, since your -forefathers trampled on that cross before -which you are now prostrate. You are an -old man, Don Fernan, but not an <em>old -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_44" title="44"> </a> -Christian</em>; and, under these circumstances, -it behoves the holy office to have a -watchful scrutiny over your conduct.”</p> - -<p>“The unfortunate Jew, invoking all the -saints, protested he would feel the strictest -scrutiny with which the holy office might -honour him, as a ground of obligation and -a matter of thanksgiving,—renouncing at -the same time the creed of his race in -terms of such exaggeration and vehemence, -as made me tremble for his probable sincerity -in any creed, and his fidelity to me. -The officers of the Inquisition, taking -little notice of his protestations, went on -to inform him of the object of their visit. -They stated that a wild and incredible tale -of the spectre of a deceased prisoner of -the Inquisition having been seen hovering -in the air near his house, had suggested to -the wisdom of the holy office, that the -living individual might be concealed within -its walls.</p> - -<p>“I could not see the trepidation of the -Jew, but I could feel the vibration of the -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_45" title="45"> </a> -boards on which he stood communicated -to the steps that supported me. In a -choaked and tremulous voice, he implored -the officers to search every apartment of -his house, and to raze it to the ground, -and inter him under its dust, if aught -were found in it which a faithful and orthodox -son of the church might not harbour. -“That shall doubtless be done,” -said the officer, taking him at his word -with the utmost <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">sang froid</i>; “but, in the -mean time, suffer me to apprize you, Don -Fernan, of the peril you incur, if at any -future time, however remote, it shall be -discovered that you harboured or aided in -concealing a prisoner of the Inquisition, -and an enemy of the holy church,—the -very first and lightest part of that penalty -will be your dwelling being razed to the -ground.” The Inquisitor raised his voice, -and paused with emphatic deliberation between -every clause of the following sentences, -measuring as it were the effect of -his blows on the increasing terror of his -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_46" title="46"> </a> -auditor. “You will be conveyed to our -prison, under the suspected character of a -relapsed Jew. Your son will be committed -to a convent, to remove him from the -pestilential influence of your presence;—and -your whole property shall be confiscated, -to the last stone in your walls, the -last garment on your person, and the last -denier in your <ins title="purse.">purse.”</ins></p> - -<p>“The poor Jew, who had marked the -gradations of his fear by groans more audible -and prolonged at the end of every tremendous -denunciatory clause, at the mention -of confiscation so total and desolating, -lost all self-possession, and, ejaculating—“Oh -Father Abraham, and all the holy -prophets!”—fell, as I conjectured from the -sound, prostrate on the floor. I gave myself -up for lost. Exclusive of his pusillanimity, -the words he had uttered were enough -to betray him to the officers of the -Inquisition; and, without a moment’s hesitation -between the danger of falling into -their hands, and plunging into the darkness -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_47" title="47"> </a> -of the recess into which I had descended, -I staggered down a few remaining -steps, and attempted to feel my way -along a passage, in which they seemed to -terminate.</p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 id="Chapter_XIII">CHAPTER XIII.<a class="pagenum" name="Page_48" title="48"> </a></h2> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="line">There sat a spirit in the vault,<br /></div> -<div class="line">In shape, in hue, in lineaments, like life.<br /></div> -<div class="line right small-caps">Southey’s Thalaba.<br /></div> -</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="drop-cap"><span class="small-caps">“I am</span> convinced, that, had the passage -been as long and intricate as any that ever -an antiquarian pursued to discover the -tomb of Cheops in the Pyramids, I would -have rushed on in the blindness of my desperation, -till famine or exhaustion had -compelled me to pause. But I had no -such peril to encounter,—the floor of the -passage was smooth, and the walls were -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_49" title="49"> </a> -matted, and though I proceeded in darkness, -I proceeded in safety; and provided -my progress removed me far enough from -the pursuit or discovery of the Inquisition, -I scarcely cared how it might terminate.</p> - -<p>“Amid this temporary magnanimity of -despair, this state of mind which unites -the extremes of courage and pusillanimity, -I saw a faint light. Faint it was, -but it was distinct,—I saw clearly it was -light. Great God! what a revulsion in -my blood and heart, in all my physical and -mental feelings, did this sun of my world -of darkness create! I venture to say, -that my speed in approaching it was in -the proportion of one hundred steps to -one, compared to my crawling progress in -the preceding darkness. As I approached, -I could discover that the light gleamed -through the broad crevices of a door, -which, disjointed by subterranean damps, -gave me as full a view of the apartment -within, as if it were opened to -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_50" title="50"> </a> -me by the inmate. Through one of -these crevices, before which I knelt in a -mixture of exhaustion and curiosity, I -could reconnoitre the whole of the interior.</p> - -<p>“It was a large apartment, hung with -dark-coloured baize within four feet of the -floor, and this intermediate part was thickly -matted, probably to intercept the subterranean -damps. In the centre of the -room stood a table covered with black -cloth; it supported an iron lamp of an antique -and singular form, by whose light I -had been directed, and was now enabled -to descry furniture that appeared sufficiently -extraordinary. There were, amid maps -and globes, several instruments, of which -my ignorance did not permit me then to -know the use,—some, I have since learned, -were anatomical; there was an electrifying -machine, and a curious <em>model of a -rack</em> in ivory; there were few books, but -several scrolls of parchment, inscribed with -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_51" title="51"> </a> -large characters in red and ochre-coloured -ink; and around the room were placed -<em>four</em> skeletons, not in cases, but in a kind -of upright coffin, that gave their bony -emptiness a kind of ghastly and imperative -prominence, as if they were the real -and rightful tenants of that singular apartment. -Interspersed between them were -the stuffed figures of animals I knew not -then the names of,—an alligator,—some -gigantic bones, which I took for those of -Sampson, but which turned out to be -fragments of those of the Mammoth,—and -antlers, which in my terror I believed -to be those of the devil, but afterwards -learned to be those of an Elk. Then I -saw figures smaller, but not less horrible,—human -and brute abortions, in all their -states of anomalous and deformed construction, -not preserved in spirits, but -standing in the ghastly nakedness of their -white diminutive bones; these I conceived -to be the attendant imps of some infernal -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_52" title="52"> </a> -ceremony, which the grand wizard, -who now burst on my sight, was to preside -over.</p> - -<p>“At the end of the table sat an old -man, wrapped in a long robe; his head was -covered with a black velvet cap, with a -broad border of furs, his spectacles were of -such a size as almost to hide his face, and -he turned over some scrolls of parchment -with an anxious and trembling hand; -then seizing a scull that lay on the table, -and grasping it in fingers hardly less bony, -and not less yellow, seemed to apostrophize -it in the most earnest manner. All my -personal fears were lost in the thought of -my being the involuntary witness of some -infernal orgie. I was still kneeling at the -door, when my long suspended respiration -burst forth in a groan, which reached the -figure seated at the table in a moment. -Habitual vigilance supplied all the defects -of age on the part of the listener. It was -but the sensation of a moment to feel the -door thrown open, my arm seized by an -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_53" title="53"> </a> -arm powerful though withered by age, and -myself, as I thought, in the talons of a -demon.</p> - -<p>“The door was closed and bolted. An -awful figure stood over me, (for I had -fallen on the floor), and thundered out, -“Who art thou, and why art thou here?” -I knew not what to answer, and gazed -with a fixed and speechless look on the -skeletons and the other furniture of this -terrible vault. “Hold,” said the voice, -“if thou art indeed exhausted, and needest -refreshment, drink of this cup, and thou -shalt be refreshed as with wine; verily, it -shall come into thy bowels as water, and -as oil into thy bones,”—and as he spoke he -offered to me a cup with some liquid in it. -I repelled him and his drink, which I -had not a doubt was some magical drug, -with horror unutterable; and losing all -other fears in the overwhelming one of becoming -a slave of Satan, and a victim of -one of his agents, as I believed this extraordinary -figure, I called on the name of -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_54" title="54"> </a> -the Saviour and the saints, and, crossing -myself at every sentence, exclaimed, -“No, tempter, keep your infernal potions -for the leprous lips of your imps, or swallow -them yourself. I have but this -moment escaped from the hands of the -Inquisition, and a million times rather -would I return and yield myself their victim, -than consent to become yours,—your -tender-mercies are the only cruelties I -dread. Even in the prison of the holy -office, where the faggots appeared to be -lit before my eyes, and the chain already -fastened round my body to bind it to the -stake, I was sustained by a power that enabled -me to embrace objects so terrible to -nature, sooner than escape them at the -price of my salvation. The choice was -offered me, and I made my election,—and -so would I do were it to be offered a thousand -times, though the last were at the -stake, and the fire already kindling.”</p> - -<p>Here the Spaniard paused in some agitation. -In the enthusiasm of his narration, -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_55" title="55"> </a> -he had in some degree disclosed that -secret which he had declared was incommunicable, -except in confessing to a priest. -Melmoth, who, from the narrative of -Stanton, had been prepared to suspect -something of this, did not think prudent -to press him for a farther disclosure, and -waited in silence till his emotion had subsided, -without remark or question. Monçada -at length resumed his narrative.</p> - -<p>“While I was speaking, the old man -viewed me with a look of calm surprise, -that made me ashamed of my fears, even -before I had ceased to utter them. -“What!” said he at length, fixing apparently -on some expressions that struck -him, “art thou escaped from the arm -that dealeth its blow in darkness, even the -arm of the Inquisition? Art thou that -Nazarene youth who sought refuge in the -house of our brother Solomon, the son of -Hilkiah, who is called Fernan Nunez by -the idolaters in this land of his captivity? -Verily I trusted thou shouldst this night -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_56" title="56"> </a> -have eat of my bread, and drank of my -cup, and been unto me as a scribe, for our -brother Solomon testified concerning thee, -saying, His pen is even as the pen of a -ready writer.”</p> - -<p>“I gazed at him in astonishment. Some -vague recollections of Solomon’s being about -to disclose some safe and secret retreat -wandered over my mind; and, while -trembling at the singular apartment in -which we were seated, and the employment -in which he seemed engaged, I yet -felt a hope hover about my heart, which -his knowledge of my situation appeared to -justify. “Sit down,” said he, observing -with compassion that I was sinking alike -under the exhaustion of fatigue and the -distraction of terror; “sit down, and eat -a morsel of bread, and drink a cup of -wine, and comfort thine heart, for thou -seemest to be as one who hath escaped -from the snare of the fowler, and from the -dart of the hunter.” I obeyed him involuntarily. -I needed the refreshment he -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_57" title="57"> </a> -offered, and was about to partake of -it, when an irresistible feeling of repugnance -and horror overcame me; and, -as I thrust away the food he offered me, I -pointed to the objects around me as the -cause of my reluctance. He looked round -for a moment, as doubting whether objects -so familiar to him, could be repulsive -to a stranger, and then shaking his -head, “Thou art a fool,” said he, “but -thou art a Nazarene, and I pity thee; -verily, those who had the teaching of thy -youth, not only have shut the book of -knowledge to thee, but have forgot to open -it for themselves. Were not thy masters, -the Jesuits, masters also of the healing -art, and art thou not acquainted with the -sight of its ordinary implements? Eat, I -pray thee, and be satisfied that none of -these will hurt thee. Yonder dead bones -cannot weigh out or withhold thy food; -nor can they bind thy joints, or strain -them with iron, or rend them with steel, -as would the living arms that were stretched -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_58" title="58"> </a> -forth to seize thee as their prey. And, -as the Lord of hosts liveth, their prey -wouldst thou have been, and a prey unto -their iron and steel, were it not for the -shelter of the roof of Adonijah to-night.”</p> - -<p>“I took some of the food he offered me, -crossing myself at every mouthful, and -drank the wine, which the feverish thirst -of terror and anxiety made me swallow -like water, but not without an internal -prayer that it might not be converted into -some deleterious and diabolical poison. -The Jew Adonijah observed me with -increasing compassion and contempt.—“What,” -said he, “appals thee? Were I -possessed of the powers the superstition of -thy sect ascribes to me, might I not make -thee a banquet for fiends, instead of offering -thee food? Might I not bring from -the caverns of the earth the voices of those -that “peep and mutter,” instead of speaking -unto thee with the voice of man? -Thou art in my power, yet have I no -power or will to hurt thee. And dost -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_59" title="59"> </a> -thou, who art escaped from the dungeons -of the Inquisition, look as one that -feareth on the things that thou seest around -thee, the furniture of the cell -of a secluded leach? Within this apartment -I have passed the term of sixty -years, and dost thou shudder to visit it -for a moment? These be the skeletons of -bodies, but in the den thou hast escaped -from were the skeletons of perished souls. -Here are relics of the wrecks or the caprices -of nature, but thou art come from -where the cruelty of man, permanent and -persevering, unrelenting and unmitigated, -hath never failed to leave the proofs of its -power in abortive intellects, crippled frames, -distorted creeds, and ossified hearts. Moreover, -there are around thee parchments -and charts scrawled as it were with the -blood of man, but, were it even so, could -a thousand such volumes cause such terror -to the human eye, as a page of the history -of thy prison, written as it is in blood, -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_60" title="60"> </a> -drawn, not from the frozen veins of the -dead, but from the bursting hearts of the -living. Eat, Nazarene, there is no poison -in thy food,—drink, there is no drug -in thy cup. Darest thou promise thyself -that in the prison of the Inquisition, or -even in the cells of the Jesuits? Eat and -drink without fear in the vault, even in -the vault of Adonijah the Jew. If thou -daredst to have done so in the dwellings -of the Nazarenes, I had never beheld thee -here. Hast thou fed?” he added, and I -bowed. “Hast thou drank of the cup I -gave thee?” my torturing thirst returned, -and I gave him back the cup. He smiled, -but the smile of age,—the smile of lips -over which more than an hundred years -have passed, has an expression more repulsive -and hideous than can be deemed; it -is never the smile of pleasure,—it is a -<em>frown of the mouth</em>, and I shrunk before -its grim wrinkles, as the Jew Adonijah -added, “If thou hast eat and drank, it is -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_61" title="61"> </a> -time for thee to rest. Come to thy bed, -it may be harder than they have given -thee in thy prison, but behold it shall be -safer. Come and rest thee there, it may -be that the adversary and the enemy shall -not there find thee out.”</p> - -<p>“I followed him through passages so devious -and intricate, that, bewildered as I -was with the events of the night, they -forced on my memory the well-known -fact, that in Madrid the Jews have subterranean -passages to each other’s habitations, -which have hitherto baffled all the -industry of the Inquisition. I slept that -night, or rather day, (for the sun had -risen), on a pallet laid on the floor of a -room, small, lofty, and matted half-way -up the walls. One narrow and grated -window admitted the light of the sun, -that arose after that eventful night; and -amid the sweet sound of bells, and the -still sweeter of human life, awake and in -motion around me, I sunk into a slumber -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_62" title="62"> </a> -that was unbroken even by a dream, till -the day was closing; or, in the language -of Adonijah, “till the shadows of the -evening were upon the face of all the -earth.”</p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 id="Chapter_XIV">CHAPTER XIV.<a class="pagenum" name="Page_63" title="63"> </a></h2> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="line">Unde iratos deos timent, qui sic propitios merentur?<br /></div> -<div class="line right small-caps">Seneca.<br /></div> -</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="drop-cap"><span class="small-caps">“When</span> I awoke, he was standing by -my pallet. “Arise,” said he, “eat and -drink, that thy strength may return unto -thee.” He pointed to a small table as he -spoke, which was covered with food of the -plainest kind, and dressed with the utmost -simplicity. Yet he seemed to think an -apology was necessary for the indulgence -of this temperate fare. “I myself,” said -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_64" title="64"> </a> -he, “eat not the flesh of any animal, save -on the new moons and the feasts, yet the -days of the years of my life have been one -hundred and seven; sixty of which have -been passed in the chamber where thou -sawest me. Rarely do I ascend to the -upper chamber of this house, save on occasions -like this, or peradventure to pray, -with my window open towards the east, -for the turning away wrath from Jacob, -and the turning again the captivity of -Zion. Well saith the ethnic leach,</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="line">“Aer exclusus confert ad longevitatem.”<br /></div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="no-indent">“Such hath been my life, as I tell thee. -The light of heaven hath been hidden from -mine eyes, and the voice of man is as the -voice of a stranger in mine ears, save those -of some of mine own nation, who weep for -the affliction of Israel; yet the silver cord -is not loosed, nor the golden bowl broken; -and though mine eye be waxing dim, my -natural force is not abated.” (As he spoke, -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_65" title="65"> </a> -my eyes hung in reverence on the hoary -majesty of his patriarchal figure, and I felt -as if I beheld an embodied representation -of the old law in all its stern simplicity—the -unbending grandeur, and primeval antiquity.) -“Hast thou eaten, and art full? -Arise, then, and follow me.”</p> - -<p>“We descended to the vault, where I -found the lamp was always burning. And -Adonijah, pointing to the parchments that -lay on the table, said, “This is the matter -wherein I need thy help; the collection -and transcription whereof hath been the -labour of more than half a life, prolonged -beyond the bounds allotted to mortality; -but,” pointing to his sunk and blood-shot -eyes, “those that look out of the windows -begin to be darkened, and I feel that I -need help from the quick hand and clear -eye of youth. Wherefore, it being certified -unto me by our brother, that thou -wert a youth who couldst handle the pen -of a scribe, and, moreover, wast in need of -a city of refuge, and a strong wall of defence, -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_66" title="66"> </a> -against the laying-in-wait of thy -brethren round about thee, I was willing -that thou shouldst come under my -roof, and eat of such things as I set before -thee, and such as thy soul desireth, excepting -only the abominable things forbidden -in the law of the prophet; and shouldst, -moreover, receive wages as an hired servant.”</p> - -<p>“You will perhaps smile, Sir; but even -in my wretched situation, I felt a slight -but painful flush tinge my cheek, at the -thought of a Christian, and a peer of Spain, -becoming the amanuensis of a Jew for hire. -Adonijah continued, “Then, when my -task is completed, then will I be gathered -to my fathers, trusting surely in the Hope -of Israel, that mine eyes shall “behold the -King in his beauty,—they shall see the -land that is very far off.” And peradventure,” -he added, in a voice that grief rendered -solemn, mellow, and tremulous, -“peradventure there shall I meet in bliss, -those with whom I parted in woe—even -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_67" title="67"> </a> -thou, Zachariah, the son of my loins, and -thou, Leah, the wife of my bosom;” apostrophizing -two of the silent skeletons that -stood near. “And in the presence of the -God of our fathers, the redeemed of Zion -shall meet—and meet as those who are to -part no more for ever and ever.” At these -words, he closed his eyes, lifted up his -hands, and appeared to be absorbed in -mental prayer. Grief had perhaps subdued -my prejudices—it had certainly softened -my heart—and at this moment I -half-believed that a Jew might find entrance -and adoption amid the family and -fold of the blessed. This sentiment operated -on my human sympathies, and I inquired, -with unfeigned anxiety, after the -fate of Solomon the Jew, whose misfortune -in harbouring me had exposed him to the -visit of the Inquisitors. “Be at peace,” -said Adonijah, waving his bony and wrinkled -hand, as if dismissing a subject below -his present feelings, “our brother Solomon -is in no peril of death; neither shall -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_68" title="68"> </a> -his goods be taken for a spoil. If our adversaries -are mighty in power, so are we -mighty also to deal with them by our -wealth or our wisdom. Thy flight they -never can trace, thy existence on the face -of the earth shall also be unknown to them, -so thou wilt hearken to me, and heed my -words.”</p> - -<p>“I could not speak, but my expression -of mute and imploring anxiety spoke for -me. “Thou didst use words,” said Adonijah, -“last night, whereof, though I remember -not all the purport, the sound yet -maketh mine ears to tingle; even mine, -which have not vibrated to such sounds -for four times the space of thy youthful -years. Thou saidst thou wert beset by a -power that tempted thee to renounce the -Most High, whom Jew and Christian alike -profess to worship; and that thou didst -declare, that were the fires kindled around -thee, thou wouldst spit at the tempter, and -trample on the offer, though thy foot pressed -the coal which the sons of Dominick -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_69" title="69"> </a> -were lighting beneath its naked sole.”—“I -did,” I cried, “I did—and I would—So -help me God in mine extremity.”</p> - -<p>“Adonijah paused for a moment, as if -considering whether this were a burst of -passion, or a proof of mental energy. He -seemed at last inclined to believe it the -latter, though all men of far-advanced age -are apt to distrust any marks of emotion -as a demonstration rather of weakness than -of sincerity. “Then,” said he, after a long -and solemn pause, “then thou shalt know -the secret that hath been a burthen to the -soul of Adonijah, even as his hopeless solitude -is a burthen to the soul of him who -traverseth the desert, none accompanying -him with step, or cheering him with voice. -From my youth upward, even until now, -have I laboured, and behold the time of -my deliverance is at hand; yea, and shall -be accomplished speedily.</p> - -<p>“In the days of my childhood, a rumour -reached mine ears, even mine, of a -being sent abroad on the earth to tempt -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_70" title="70"> </a> -Jew and Nazarene, and even the disciples -of Mohammed, whose name is accursed in -the mouth of our nation, with offers of deliverance -at their utmost need and extremity, -so they would do that which my lips -dare not utter, even though there be no -ear to receive it but thine. Thou shudderest—well, -then, thou art sincere, at -least, in thy faith of errors. I listened to -the tale, and mine ears received it, even as -the soul of the thirsty drinketh in rivers -of water, for my mind was full of the vain -fantasies of the Gentile fables, and I longed, -in the perverseness of my spirit, to see, -yea, and to consort with, yea, and to deal -with, the evil one in his strength. Like -our fathers in the wilderness, I despised -angel’s food, and lusted after forbidden -meats, even the meats of the Egyptian -sorcerers. And my presumption was rebuked -as thou seest:—childless, wifeless, -friendless, at the last period of an existence -prolonged beyond the bounds of nature, -am I now left, and, save thee alone, without -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_71" title="71"> </a> -one to record its events. I will not -trouble thee now with the tale of my -eventful life, farther than to tell thee, that -the skeletons thou tremblest to behold, -were once clothed in flesh far fairer than -thine. They are those of my wife and -child, whose history thou must not now -hear—but those of the two others thou -must both hear and relate.” And he -pointed to the two other skeletons opposite, -in their upright cases. “On my return -to my country, even Spain, if a Jew -can be said to have a country, I set myself -down on this seat, and, lighted by this -lamp, I took in my hand the pen of a -scribe, and vowed by a vow, that this lamp -should not expire, nor this seat be forsaken, -nor this vault untenanted, until that the -record is written in a book, and sealed as -with the king’s signet. But, behold, I -was traced by those who are keen of scent, -and quick of pursuit, even the sons of Dominick. -And they seized me, and laid -my feet fast in the bonds; but my writings -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_72" title="72"> </a> -they could not read, because they -were traced in a character unknown to -this idolatrous people. And behold, after -a space they set me free, finding no cause -of offence in me; and they bade me depart, -and trouble them no more. Then -vowed I a vow unto the God of Israel, -who had delivered me from their thraldom, -that none but he who could read -these characters should ever transcribe -them. Moreover, I prayed, and said, O -Lord God of Israel! who knowest that we -are the sheep of thy fold, and our enemies -as wolves round about us, and as lions who -roar for their evening prey, grant, that a -Nazarene escaped from their hands, and -fleeing unto us, even as a bird chased from -her nest, may put to shame the weapons -of the mighty, and laugh them to scorn. -Grant also, Lord God of Jacob, that he -may be exposed to the snare of the enemy, -even as those of whom I have written, and -that he may spit at it with his mouth, and -spurn at it with his feet, and trample on -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_73" title="73"> </a> -the ensnarer, even as they have trampled; -and then shall my soul, even mine, have -peace at the last. Thus I prayed—and -my prayer was heard, for behold, <em>thou</em> art -here.”</p> - -<p>“As I heard these words, a horrid foreboding, -like a night-mare of the heart, -hung heavily on me. I looked alternately -at the withering speaker, and the hopeless -task. To bear about that horrible secret -inurned in my heart, was not that enough? -but to be compelled to scatter its ashes abroad, -and to rake into the dust of others -for the same purpose of unhallowed exposure, -revolted me beyond feeling and utterance. -As my eye fell listlessly on the -manuscripts, I saw they contained only <em>the -Spanish language</em> written in <em>the Greek -characters</em>—a mode of writing that, I -easily conceived, must have been as unintelligible -to the officers of the Inquisition, -as the Hieroglyphics of the Egyptian -priests. Their ignorance, sheltered by -their pride, and that still more strongly -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_74" title="74"> </a> -fortified by the impenetrable secresy attached -to their most minute proceedings, -made them hesitate to entrust to any one -the circumstance of their being in possession -of manuscript which they could -not decypher. So they returned the papers -to Adonijah, and, in his own language, -“Behold, he abode in safety.” But to me -this was a task of horror unspeakable. I -felt myself as an added link to the chain, -the end of which, held by an invisible -hand, was drawing me to perdition; and -I was now to become the recorder of my -own condemnation.</p> - -<p>“As I turned over the leaves with a -trembling hand, the towering form of Adonijah -seemed dilated with preternatural -emotion. “And what dost thou tremble at, -child of the dust?” he exclaimed, “if thou -hast been tempted, so have they—if thou -hast resisted, so have they—if they are at -rest, so shalt thou be. There is not a pang -of soul or body thou hast undergone, or -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_75" title="75"> </a> -canst undergo, that they have not suffered -before thy birth was dreamt of. Boy, -thy hand trembles over pages it is unworthy -to touch, yet still I must employ -thee, for I need thee. Miserable link of -necessity, that binds together minds so uncongenial! -I would that the ocean were my -ink, and the rock my page, and mine arm, -even mine, the pen that should write thereon -letters that should last like those on -the written mountains for ever and ever—even -the mount of Sinai, and those that -still bear the record, “Israel hath passed -the flood<a name="FootnoteMarker_6" href="#Footnote_6" class="footnote-marker">(6)</a>.” As he spoke, I again turned -over the manuscripts. “Does thy hand -tremble still?” said Adonijah; “and dost -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_76" title="76"> </a> -thou still hesitate to record the story of -those whose destiny a link, wondrous, invisible, -and indissoluble, has bound to -thine. Behold, there are those near thee, -who, though they have no longer a tongue, -speak to thee with that eloquence which is -stronger than all the eloquence of living -tongues. Behold, there are those around -thee, whose mute and motionless arms of -bone plead to thee as no arms of flesh ever -pleaded. Behold, there are those who, being -speechless, yet speak—who, being dead, -are yet alive—who, though in the abyss of -eternity, are yet around thee, and call on -thee, as with a mortal voice. Hear them!—take -the pen in thine hand, and write.” -I took the pen in my hand, but could not -write a line. Adonijah, in a transport of -ecstasy, snatching a skeleton from its receptacle, -placed it before me. “Tell him -thy story thyself, peradventure he will believe -thee, and record it.” And supporting -the skeleton with one hand, he pointed -with the other, as bleached and bony -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_77" title="77"> </a> -as that of the dead, to the manuscript that -lay before me.</p> - -<p>“It was a night of storms in the world -above us; and, far below the surface of -the earth as we were, the murmur of the -winds, sighing through the passages, came -on my ear like the voices of the departed,—like -the pleadings of the dead. Involuntarily -I fixed my eye on the manuscript -I was to copy, and never withdrew -till I had finished its extraordinary contents.</p> - -<div class="section"> - -<h3 id="Tale_of_the_Indians">Tale of the Indians.</h3> - -</div> - -<p>“<span class="small-caps">There</span> is an island in the Indian sea, -not many leagues from the mouth of -the Hoogly, which, from the peculiarity -of its situation and internal circumstances, -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_78" title="78"> </a> -long remained unknown to Europeans, -and unvisited by the natives of the contiguous -islands, except on remarkable occasions. -It is surrounded by shallows that -render the approach of any vessel of -weight impracticable, and fortified by -rocks that threatened danger to the slight -canoes of the natives, but it was rendered -still more formidable by the terrors with -which superstition had invested it. There -was a tradition that the first temple to the -black goddess Seeva<a name="FootnoteMarker_7" href="#Footnote_7" class="footnote-marker">(7)</a>, had been erected -there; and her hideous idol, with its collar -of human sculls, forked tongues darting -from its twenty serpent mouths, and seated -on a matted coil of adders, had there -first <ins title="recieved">received</ins> the bloody homage of the -mutilated limbs and immolated infants of -her worshippers.</p> - -<p>“The temple had been overthrown, and -the island half depopulated, by an earthquake, -that agitated all the shores of India. -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_79" title="79"> </a> -It was rebuilt, however, by the zeal -of the worshippers, who again began to -re-visit the island, when a tufaun of fury -unparalleled even in those fierce latitudes, -burst over the devoted spot. The pagoda -was burnt to ashes by the lightning; the -inhabitants, their dwellings, and their -plantations, swept away as with the besom -of destruction, and not a trace of humanity, -cultivation, or life, remained in the -desolate isle. The devotees consulted -their imagination for the cause of these -calamities; and, while seated under the -shade of their cocoa-trees they told their -long strings of coloured beads, they ascribed -it to the wrath of the goddess -Seeva at the increasing popularity of the -worship of Juggernaut. They asserted -that her image had been seen ascending amid -the blaze of lightning that consumed -her shrine and blasted her worshippers as -they clung to it for protection, and firmly -believed she had withdrawn to some happier -isle, where she might enjoy her feast -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_80" title="80"> </a> -of flesh, and draught of blood, unmolested -by the worship of a rival deity. So -the island remained desolate, and without -inhabitant for years.</p> - -<p>“The crews of European vessels, assured -by the natives that there was neither animal, -or vegetable, or water, to be found on -its surface, forbore to visit; and the Indian -of other isles, as he passed it in his -canoe, threw a glance of melancholy fear -at its desolation, and flung something overboard -to propitiate the wrath of Seeva.</p> - -<p>“The island, thus left to itself, became -vigorously luxuriant, as some neglected -children improve in health and strength, -while pampered darlings die under excessive -nurture. Flowers bloomed, and foliage -thickened, without a hand to pluck, -a step to trace, or a lip to taste them, -when some fishermen, (who had been -driven by a strong current toward the isle, -and worked with oar and sail in vain to -avoid its dreaded shore), after making a -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_81" title="81"> </a> -thousand prayers to propitiate Seeva, were -compelled to approach within an oar’s length -of it; and, on their return in unexpected -safety, reported they had heard -sounds so exquisite, that some other goddess, -milder than Seeva, must have fixed -on that spot for her residence. The -younger fishermen added to this account, -that they had beheld a female figure of -supernatural loveliness, glide and disappear -amid the foliage which now luxuriantly -overshadowed the rocks; and, in -the spirit of Indian devotees, they hesitated -not to call this delicious vision an incarnated -emanation of Vishnu, in a lovelier -form than ever he had appeared before,—at -least far beyond that which he -assumed, when he made one of his avatars -in the figure of a tiger.</p> - -<p>“The inhabitants of the islands, as superstitious -as they were imaginative, deified the -vision of the isles after their manner. The -old devotees, while invoking her, stuck -close to the bloody rites of Seeva and Haree, -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_82" title="82"> </a> -and muttered many a horrid vow over -their beads, which they took care to render -effectual by striking sharp reeds into -their arms, and tinging every bead with -blood as they spoke. The young women -rowed their light canoes as near as they -dared to the haunted isle, making vows to -Camdeo<a name="FootnoteMarker_8" href="#Footnote_8" class="footnote-marker">(8)</a>, and sending their paper vessels, -lit with wax, and filled with flowers, towards -its coast, where they hoped their -darling deity was about to fix his residence. -The young men also, at least those -who were in love and fond of music, rowed -close to the island to solicit the god -Krishnoo<a name="FootnoteMarker_9" href="#Footnote_9" class="footnote-marker">(9)</a> to sanctify it by his presence; -and not knowing what to offer to the -deity, they sung their wild airs standing -high on the prow of the canoe, and at last -threw a figure of wax, with a kind of lyre -in its hand, towards the shore of the desolate -isle.</p> - -<p><a class="pagenum" name="Page_83" title="83"> </a><ins title="For">“For</ins> many a night these canoes might be -seen glancing past each other over the -darkened sea, like <em>shooting stars of the -deep</em>, with their lighted paper lanthorns, -and their offerings of flowers and fruits, -left by some trembling hand on the sands, -or hung by a bolder one in baskets of cane -on the rocks; and still the simple islanders -felt joy and devotion united in this “voluntary -humility.” It was observed, however, -that the worshippers departed with -very different impressions of the object of -their adoration. The women all clung to -their oars in breathless admiration of the -sweet sounds that issued from the isle; and -when that ceased they departed, murmuring -over in their huts those “notes angelical,” to -which their own language furnished no appropriate -sounds. The men rested long on -their oars, to catch a glimpse of the form -which, by the report of the fishermen, -wandered there; and, when disappointed, -they rowed home sadly.</p> - -<p><a class="pagenum" name="Page_84" title="84"> </a>“Gradually the isle lost its bad character -for terror; and in spite of some old -devotees, who told their blood-discoloured -beads, and talked of Seeva and Haree, and -even held burning splinters of wood to -their scorched hands, and stuck sharp -pieces of iron, which they had purchased -or stolen from the crews of European vessels, -in the most fleshy and sensitive parts -of their bodies,—and, moreover, talked of -suspending themselves from trees with the -head downwards, till they were consumed -by insects, or calcined by the sun, or rendered -delirious by their position,—in spite -of all this, which must have been very affecting, -the young people went on their -own way,—the girls offering their wreaths -to Camdeo, and the youths invoking -Krishnoo, till the devotees, in despair, -vowed to visit this accursed island, which -had set every body mad, and find out -how the unknown deity was to be recognised -and propitiated; and whether -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_85" title="85"> </a> -flowers, and fruits, and love-vows, and -the beatings of young hearts, were to -be substituted for the orthodox and legitimate -offering of nails grown into the -hands till they appeared through their -backs, and <em>setons</em> of ropes inserted into the -sides, on which the religionist danced his -dance of agony, till the ropes or his patience -failed. In a word, they were determined -to find out what this deity was, -who demanded no suffering from her worshippers,—and -they fulfilled their resolution -in a manner worthy of their purpose.</p> - -<p>“One hundred and forty beings, crippled -by the austerities of their religion, unable -to manage sail or oar, embarked in a -canoe to reach what they called the accursed -isle. The natives, intoxicated with the -belief of their sanctity, stripped themselves -naked, to push their boat through -the surf, and then, making their <em>salams</em>, -implored them to use oars at least. The -devotees, all too intent on their beads, -and too well satisfied of their importance -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_86" title="86"> </a> -in the eyes of their favourite deities, to admit -a doubt of their safety, set off in triumph,—and -the consequence may be easily -conjectured. The boat soon filled and -sunk, and the crew perished without a -single sigh of lamentation, except that they -had not feasted the alligators in the sacred -waters of the Ganges, or perished at least -under the shadow of the domes of the -<em>holy city</em> of Benares, in either of which -cases their salvation must have been unquestionable.</p> - -<p>“This circumstance, apparently so untoward, -operated favourably on the popularity -of the new worship. The old -system lost ground every day. Hands, -instead of being scorched over the fire, -were employed only in gathering flowers. -Nails (with which it was the custom of the -devotees to lard their persons) actually fell -in price; and a man might sit at his ease -on his hams with as safe a conscience, -and as fair a character, as if fourscore of -them occupied the interval between. On -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_87" title="87"> </a> -the other hand, fruits were every day -scattered on the shores of the favourite -isle; flowers, too, blushed on its rocks, in -all the dazzling luxuriance of colouring -with which the Flora of the East delights -to array herself. There was that brilliant -and superb lily, which, to this day, illustrates -the comparison between it and Solomon, -who, in all his glory, was not arrayed -like one of them. There was the rose unfolding -its “paradise of leaves,” and the -scarlet blossom of the bombex, which an -English traveller has voluptuously described -as banqueting the eye with “its mass -of vegetable splendour” unparalleled. And -the female votarists at last began to imitate -some of “those sounds and sweet -airs” that every breeze seemed to waft to -their ears, with increasing strength of melody, -as they floated in their canoes round -this isle of enchantment.</p> - -<p>“At length one circumstance occurred -that put its sanctity of character, and that -of its inmate, out of all doubt. A young -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_88" title="88"> </a> -Indian who had in vain offered to his beloved -the mystical bouquet, in which the -arrangement of the flowers is made to express -love, rowed his canoe to the island, -to learn his fate from its supposed inhabitant; -and as he rowed, composed a song, -which expressed that his mistress despised -him, as if he were a Paria, but that he -would love her though he were descended -from the head of Brahma;—that her skin -was more polished than the marble steps -by which you descend to the tank of a -Rajah, and her eyes brighter than any -whose glances were watched by presumptuous -strangers through the rents of the -embroidered purdah<a name="FootnoteMarker_10" href="#Footnote_10" class="footnote-marker">(10)</a> of a Nawaub;—that -she was loftier in his eyes than the black -pagoda of Juggernaut, and more brilliant -than the trident of the temple of Maha-deva, -when it sparkled in the beams of the -moon. And as both these objects were -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_89" title="89"> </a> -visible to his eyes from the shore, as he -rowed on in the soft and glorious serenity -of an Indian night, no wonder they found -a place in his verse. Finally, he promised, -that if she was propitious to his suit, he -would build her a hut, raised four feet above -the ground to avoid the serpents;—that -her dwelling should be overshadowed -by the boughs of the tamarind; and that -while she slept, he would drive the musquitoes -from her with a fan, composed of -the leaves of the first flowers which she accepted -as a testimony of his passion.</p> - -<p>“It so happened, that the same night, -the young female, whose reserve had been -the result of any thing but indifference, -attended by two of her companions, rowed -her canoe to the same spot, with the view -of discovering whether the vows of her -lover were sincere. They arrived about -the same time; and though it was now -twilight, and the superstition of these -timid beings gave a darker tinge to the -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_90" title="90"> </a> -shadows that surrounded them, they ventured -to land; and, bearing their baskets -of flowers in trembling hands, advanced to -hang them on the ruins of the pagoda, -amid which it was presumed the new goddess -had fixed her abode. They proceeded, -not without difficulty, through thickets -of flowers that had sprung spontaneously -in the uncultivated soil—not without fear -that a tiger might spring on them at every -step, till they recollected that those animals -chose generally the large jungles for -their retreat, and seldom harboured amid -flowers. Still less was the alligator to be -dreaded, amid the narrow streams that -they could cross without tinging their ancles -with its pure water. The tamarind, -the cocoa, and the palm-tree, shed their -blossoms, and exhaled their odours, and -waved their leaves, over the head of the -trembling votarist as she approached -the ruin of the pagoda. It had been a -massive square building, erected amid -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_91" title="91"> </a> -rocks, that, by a caprice of nature not uncommon -in the Indian isles, occupied its -centre, and appeared the consequence of -some volcanic explosion. The earthquake -that had overthrown it, had mingled the -rocks and ruins together in a shapeless and -deformed mass, which seemed to bear alike -the traces of the impotence of art and nature, -when prostrated by the power that -has formed and can annihilate both. There -were pillars, wrought with singular characters, -heaped amid stones that bore no -impress but that of some fearful and violent -action of nature, that seemed to say, -Mortals, write your lines with the chisel, -I write my hieroglyphics in fire. There -were the disjointed piles of stones carved -into the form of snakes, on which the hideous -idol of Seeva had once been seated; -and close to them the rose was bursting -through the earth which occupied the fissures -of the rock, as if nature preached a -milder theology, and deputed her darling -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_92" title="92"> </a> -flower as her missionary to her children. -The idol itself had fallen, and lay in fragments. -The horrid mouth was still visible, -into which human hearts had been formerly -inserted. But now, the beautiful -peacocks, with their rain-bow trains and -arched necks, were feeding their young amid -the branches of the tamarind that -overhung the blackened fragments. The -young Indians advanced with diminished -fear, for there was neither sight or sound -to inspire the fear that attends the approach -to the presence of a spiritual being—all -was calm, still, and dark. Yet their -feet trod with involuntary lightness as they -advanced to these ruins, which combined -the devastations of nature with those of -the human passions, perhaps more bloody -and wild than the former. Near the ruins -there had formerly been a tank, as is usual, -near the pagodas, both for the purposes -of refreshment and purification; but the -steps were now broken, and the water was -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_93" title="93"> </a> -stagnated. The young Indians, however, -took up a few drops, invoked the “goddess -of the isle,” and approached the only -remaining arch. The exterior front of this -building had been constructed of stone, -but its interior had been hollowed out of -the rock; and its recesses resembled, in -some degree, those in the island of Elephanta. -There were monstrous figures -carved in stone, some adhering to the -rock, others detached from it, all frowning -in their shapeless and gigantic hideousness, -and giving to the eye of superstition -the terrible representation of “<em>gods of -stone</em>.”</p> - -<p>“Two of the young votarists, who -were distinguished for their courage, advanced -and performed a kind of wild -dance before the ruins of the ancient -gods, as they called them, and invoked -(as they might) the new resident of -the isle to be propitious to the vows of -their companion, who advanced to hang -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_94" title="94"> </a> -her wreath of flowers round the broken -remains of an idol half-defaced and half-hidden -among the fragments of stone, but -clustered over with that rich vegetation -which seems, in oriental countries, to announce -the eternal triumph of nature amid -the ruins of art. Every year renews the -rose, but what year shall see a pyramid rebuilt? -As the young Indian hung her -wreath on the shapeless stone, a voice -murmured, “There is a <em>withered</em> flower -there.”—“Yes—yes—there is,” answered -the votarist, “and that withered flower is -an emblem of my heart. I have cherished -many roses, but suffered one to wither that -was the sweetest to me of all the wreath. -Wilt thou revive him for me, unknown -goddess, and my wreath shall no longer be -a dishonour to thy shrine?”—“Wilt <em>thou</em> -revive the rose by placing it in the warmth -of thy bosom,” said the young lover, appearing -from behind the fragments of rock -and ruin that had sheltered him, and from -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_95" title="95"> </a> -which he had uttered his oracular reply, -and listened with delight to the emblematical -but intelligible language of his -beloved. “Wilt thou revive the rose?” -he asked, in the triumph of love, as he -clasped her to his bosom. The young Indian, -yielding at once to love and superstition, -seemed half-melting in his embrace, -when, in a moment, she uttered a wild -shriek, repelled him with all her strength, -and crouched in an uncouth posture of -fear, while she pointed with one quivering -hand to a figure that appeared, at that moment, -in the perspective of that tumultuous -and indefinite heap of stone. The -lover, unalarmed by the shriek of his mistress, -was advancing to catch her in his -arms, when his eye fell on the object that -had struck hers, and he sunk on his face -to the earth, in mute adoration.</p> - -<p>“The form was that of a female, but -such as they had never before beheld, for -her skin was perfectly white, (at least in -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_96" title="96"> </a> -their eyes, who had never seen any but -the dark-red tint of the natives of the Bengalese -islands). Her drapery (as well as -they could see) consisted only of flowers, -whose rich colours and fantastic grouping -harmonized well with the peacock’s feathers -twined among them, and altogether composed -a feathery fan of wild drapery, which, in -truth, beseemed an “island goddess.” Her -long hair, of a colour they had never beheld -before, pale auburn, flowed to her -feet, and was fantastically entwined with -the flowers and the feathers that formed -her dress. On her head was a coronal -of shells, of hue and lustre unknown -except in the Indian seas—the purple -and the green vied with the amethyst, -and the emerald. On her white bare -shoulder a loxia was perched, and round -her neck was hung a string of their -pearl—like eggs, so pure and pellucid, that -the first sovereign in Europe might have -exchanged her richest necklace of pearls -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_97" title="97"> </a> -for them. Her arms and feet were perfectly -bare, and her step had a goddess-like -rapidity and lightness, that affected the -imagination of the Indians as much as -the extraordinary colour of her skin and -hair. The young lovers sunk in awe -before this vision as it passed before -their eyes. While they prostrated themselves, -a delicious sound trembled on their -ears. The beautiful vision spoke to them, -but it was in a language they did not understand; -and this confirming their belief -that it was the language of the gods, they -prostrated themselves to her again. At -that moment, the loxia, springing from -her shoulder, came fluttering towards them. -“He is going to seek for fire-flies to light -his cell<a name="FootnoteMarker_11" href="#Footnote_11" class="footnote-marker">(11)</a>,” said the Indians to each other. -But the bird, who, with an intelligence -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_98" title="98"> </a> -peculiar to his species, understood and -adopted the predilection of the fair being -he belonged to, for the fresh flowers in -which he saw her arrayed every day, darted -at the withered rose-bud in the wreath -of the young Indian; and, striking his -slender beak through it, laid it at her -feet. The omen was interpreted auspiciously -by the lovers, and, bending once -more to the earth, they rowed back to -their island, but no longer in separate -canoes. The lover steered that of his mistress, -while she sat beside him in silence; -and the young people who accompanied -them chaunted verses in praise of the <em>white</em> -goddess, and the island sacred to her and -to lovers.</p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 id="Chapter_XV">CHAPTER XV.<a class="pagenum" name="Page_99" title="99"> </a></h2> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="line">But tell me to what saint, I pray,<br /></div> -<div class="line indent2">What martyr, or what angel bright,<br /></div> -<div class="line">Is dedicate this holy day,<br /></div> -<div class="line indent2">Which brings you here so gaily dight?<br /></div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="line">Dost thou not, simple Palmer, know,<br /></div> -<div class="line indent2">What every child can tell thee here?—<br /></div> -<div class="line">Nor saint nor angel claims this show,<br /></div> -<div class="line indent2">But the bright season of the year.<br /></div> -<div class="line right small-caps">Queen-Hoo Hall, by Strutt.<br /></div> -</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="drop-cap"><span class="small-caps">“The</span> sole and beautiful inmate of the -isle, though disturbed at the appearance of -her worshippers, soon recovered her tranquillity. -She could not be conscious of -fear, for nothing of that world in which -she lived had ever borne a hostile appearance -to her. The sun and the shade—the -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_100" title="100"> </a> -flowers and foliage—the tamarinds and -figs that prolonged her delightful existence—the -water that she drank, wondering -at the beautiful being who seemed to -drink whenever she did—the peacocks, -who spread out their rich and radiant plumage -the moment they beheld her—and -the loxia, who perched on her shoulder -and hand as she walked, and answered her -sweet voice with imitative chirpings—all -these were her friends, and she knew none -but these.</p> - -<p>“The human forms that sometimes approached -the island, caused her a slight -emotion; but it was rather that of curiosity -than alarm; and their gestures were -so expressive of reverence and mildness, -their offerings of flowers, in which she delighted, -so acceptable, and their visits so -silent and peaceful, that she saw them -without reluctance, and only wondered, -as they rowed away, how they could move -on the water in safety; and how creatures -so dark, and with features so unattractive, -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_101" title="101"> </a> -happened to <em>grow</em> amid the beautiful -flowers they presented to her as the productions -of their abode. The elements -might be supposed to have impressed her -imagination with some terrible ideas; but -the periodical regularity of these <ins title="phœnomena">phænomena</ins>, -in the climate she inhabited, divested -them of their terrors to one who had -been accustomed to them, as to the alternation -of night and day—who could not -remember the fearful impression of the -first, and, above all, who had never heard -any terror of them expressed <em>by another</em>,—perhaps -the primitive cause of fear in -most minds. Pain she had never felt—of -death she had no idea—how, then, could -she become acquainted with fear?</p> - -<p>“When a north-wester, as it is termed, -visited the island, with all its terrific accompaniments -of midnight darkness, clouds -of suffocating dust, and thunders like the -trumpet of doom, she stood amid the leafy -colonnades of the banyan-tree, ignorant of -her danger, watching the cowering wings -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_102" title="102"> </a> -and drooping heads of the birds, and the -ludicrous terror of the monkies, as they -skipt from branch to branch with their -young. When the lightning struck a tree, -she gazed as a child would on a fire-work -played off for its amusement; but the next -day she wept, when she saw the leaves -would no longer grow on the blasted trunk. -When the rains descended in torrents, the -ruins of the pagoda afforded her a shelter; -and she sat listening to the rushing of the -mighty waters, and the murmurs of the -troubled deep, till her soul took its colour -from the sombrous and magnificent imagery -around her, and she believed herself -precipitated to earth with the deluge—borne -downward, like a leaf, by a cataract—engulphed -in the depths of the ocean—rising -again to light on the swell of the -enormous billows, as if she were heaved on -the back of a whale—deafened with the -roar—giddy with the rush—till terror and -delight embraced in that fearful exercise -of imagination. So she lived like a flower -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_103" title="103"> </a> -amid sun and storm, blooming in the light, -and bending to the shower, and drawing -the elements of her sweet and wild existence -from both. And both seemed to -mingle their influences kindly for her, as -if she was a thing that nature loved, even -in her angry mood, and gave a commission -to the storm to nurture her, and to the -deluge to spare the ark of her innocence, -as it floated over the waters. This existence -of felicity, half physical, half imaginative, -but neither intellectual or impassioned, -had continued till the seventeenth -year of this beautiful and mild being, when -a circumstance occurred that changed its -hue for ever.</p> - -<p>“On the evening of the day after the Indians -had departed, Immalee, for that was -the name her votarists had given her, was -standing on the shore, when a being approached -her unlike any she had ever beheld. -The colour of his face and hands resembled -her own more than those she was accustomed -to see, but his garments, (which were -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_104" title="104"> </a> -European), from their square uncouthness, -their shapelessness, and their disfiguring -projection about the hips, (it was the fashion -of the year 1680), gave her a mixed -sensation of ridicule, disgust, and wonder, -which her beautiful features could express -only by a smile—that smile, a <em>native of -the face</em> from which not even surprise -could banish it.</p> - -<p>“The stranger approached, and the -beautiful vision approached also, but not -like an European female with low and -graceful bendings, still less like an Indian -girl with her low salams, but like a young -fawn, all animation, timidity, confidence, -and cowardice, expressed in almost a single -action. She sprung from the sands—ran -to her favourite tree;—returned again -with her guard of peacocks, who expanded -their superb trains with a kind of instinctive -motion, as if they felt the danger that -menaced their protectress, and, clapping her -hands with exultation, seemed to invite -them to share in the delight she felt in -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_105" title="105"> </a> -gazing at the <em>new flower that had grown -in the sand</em>.</p> - -<p>“The stranger advanced, and, to Immalee’s -utter astonishment, addressed her -in the language which she herself had retained -some words of since her infancy, -and had endeavoured in vain to make her -peacocks, parrots, and loxias, answer her -in corresponding sounds. But her language, -from want of practice, had become -so limited, that she was delighted to hear -its most unmeaning sounds uttered by human -lips; and when he said, according to -the form of the times, “How do you, fair -maid?” she answered, “God made me,” -from the words of the Christian Catechism -that had been breathed into her infant lip. -“God never made a fairer creature,” replied -the stranger, grasping her hand, and -fixing on her eyes that still burn in the -sockets of that arch-deceiver. “Oh yes!” -answered Immalee, “he made many things -more beautiful. The rose is redder than -I am—the palm-tree is taller than I am—and -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_106" title="106"> </a> -the wave is bluer than I am;—but they -all change, and I never change. I have -grown taller and stronger, though the -rose fades every six moons; and the rock -splits to let in the bats, when the earth -shakes; and the waves fight in their anger -till they turn grey, and far different from -the beautiful colour they have when the -moon comes dancing on them, and sending -all the young, broken branches of her -light to kiss my feet, as I stand on the soft -sand. I have tried to gather them every -night, but they all broke in my hand the -moment I dipt it into water.”—“And -have you fared better with the stars?” said -the stranger smiling.—“No,” answered the -innocent being, “the stars are the flowers -of heaven, and the rays of the moon the -boughs and branches; but though they are -so bright, they only blossom in the night,—and -I love better the flowers that I can -gather, and twine in my hair. When I -have been all night wooing a star, and it -has listened and descended, springing -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_107" title="107"> </a> -downwards like a peacock from its nest, -it has hid itself often afterwards playfully -amid the mangoes and tamarinds where it -fell; and though I have searched for it till -the moon looked wan and weary of lighting -me, I never could find it. But where -do you come from?—you are not scaly -and voiceless like those who grow in the -waters, and show their strange shapes as I -sit on the shore at sun-set;—nor are you -red and diminutive like those who come -over the waters to me from other worlds, -in houses that can live on the deep, and -walk so swiftly, with their legs plunged -in the water. Where do you come from?—you -are not so bright as the stars that -live in the blue sea above me, nor so deformed -as those that toss in the darker sea -at my feet. Where did you grow, and -how came you here?—there is not a canoe -on the sand; and though the shells bear -the fish that live in them so lightly over -the waters, they never would bear me. -When I placed my foot on their scolloped -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_108" title="108"> </a> -edge of crimson and purple, they sunk into -the sand.”—“Beautiful creature,” said -the stranger, “I come from a world where -there are thousands like me.”—“That is -impossible,” said Immalee, “for I live -here alone, and other worlds must be like -this.”—“What I tell you is true, however,” -said the stranger. Immalee paused -for a moment, as if making the first effort -of reflection—an exertion painful enough -to a being whose existence was composed -of felicitous tacts and unreflecting instincts—and -then exclaimed, “We both must -have grown in the world of voices, for I -know what you say better than the chirp of -the loxia, or the cry of the peacock. That -must be a delightful world where they all -speak—what would I give that my roses -grew in the world of answers!”</p> - -<p>“At this moment the stranger made certain -signals of hunger, which Immalee understood -in a moment, and told him to follow -her to where the tamarind and the fig -were shedding their fruit—where the stream -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_109" title="109"> </a> -was so clear, you could count the purple -shells in its bed—and where she would -scoop for him in the cocoa-shell the cool -waters that flowed beneath the shade of -the mango. As they went, she gave him -all the information about herself that she -could. She told him that she was the -daughter of a palm-tree, under whose shade -she had been first conscious of existence, -but that her poor father had been long -withered and dead—that she was very old, -having seen many roses decay on their -stalks; and though they were succeeded -by others, she did not love them so well -as the first, which were a great deal larger -and brighter—that, in fact, every thing -had grown smaller latterly, for she was -now able to reach to the fruit which formerly -she was compelled to wait for till it -dropt on the ground;—but that the water -was grown taller, for once she was forced -to drink it on her hands and knees, and -now she could scoop it in a cocoa-shell. -Finally, she added, she was much older -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_110" title="110"> </a> -than the moon, for she had seen it waste -away till it was dimmer than the light of -a fire-fly; and the moon that was lighting -them now would decline too, and its successor -be so small, that she would never -again give it the name she had given to -the first—Sun of the Night. “But,” said -her companion, “how are you able to -speak a language you never learned from -your loxias and peacocks?”—“I will tell -you,” said Immalee, with an air of solemnity, -which her beauty and innocence made -at once ludicrous and imposing, and in -which she betrayed a slight tendency to -that wish to mystify that distinguishes her -delightful sex,—“there came a spirit to -me from the world of voices, and it whispered -to me sounds that I never have forgotten, -long, long before I was born.”—“Really?” -said the stranger. “Oh yes!—long -before I could gather a fig, or gather -the water in my hand, and that must -be before I was born. When I <em>was</em> born, -I was not so high as the rose-bud, at which -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_111" title="111"> </a> -I tried to catch, now I am as near the -moon as the palm-tree—sometimes I catch -her beams sooner than he does, therefore I -must be very old, and very high.” At -these words, the stranger, with an expression -indescribable, leaned against a tree. -He viewed that lovely and helpless being, -while he refused the fruits and water she -offered him, with a look, that, for the first -time, intimated compassion. The stranger -feeling did not dwell long in a mansion -it was unused to. The expression was -soon exchanged for that half-ironical, half-diabolical -glance Immalee could not understand. -“And you live here alone,” he -said, “and you have lived in this beautiful -place without a companion?”—“Oh -no!” said Immalee, “I have a companion -more beautiful than all the flowers in the -isle. There is not a rose-leaf that drops in -the river so bright as its cheek. My -friend lives under the water, but its colours -are so bright. It kisses me too, but its -lips are very cold; and when I kiss it, it -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_112" title="112"> </a> -seems to dance, and its beauty is all broken -into a thousand faces, that come smiling -at me like little stars. But, though -my friend has a thousand faces, and I -have but one, still there is one thing that -troubles me. There is but one stream -where it meets me, and that is where -are no shadows from the trees—and I never -can catch it but when the sun is bright. -Then when I catch it in the stream, I kiss -it on my knees; but my friend has grown -so tall, that sometimes I wish it were -smaller. Its lips spread so much wider, -that I give it a thousand kisses for one -that I get.” “Is your friend male or female,” -said the stranger.—“What is that?” -answered Immalee.—“I mean, of what -sex is your friend?”</p> - -<p><ins title="But">“But</ins> to this question he could obtain no -satisfactory answer; and it was not till his -return the next day, when he revisited the -isle, that he discovered Immalee’s friend -was what he suspected. He found this -innocent and lovely being bending over a -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_113" title="113"> </a> -stream that reflected her image, and wooing -it with a thousand wild and graceful -attitudes of joyful fondness. The stranger -gazed at her for some time, and thoughts -it would be difficult for man to penetrate -into, threw their varying expression over -his features for a moment. It was the -first of his intended victims he had ever -beheld with compunction. The joy, too, -with which Immalee received him, almost -brought back human feelings to a heart -that had long renounced them; and, for a -moment, he experienced a sensation like -that of his master when he visited paradise,—pity -for the flowers he resolved to -wither for ever. He looked at her as she -fluttered round him with outspread arms -and dancing eyes; and sighed, while she -welcomed him in tones of such wild sweetness, -as suited a being who had hitherto -conversed with nothing but the melody of -birds and the murmur of waters. With -all her ignorance, however, she could not -help testifying her amazement at his arriving -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_114" title="114"> </a> -at the isle without any visible -means of conveyance. He evaded answering -her on this point, but said, “Immalee, -I come from a world wholly unlike that -you inhabit, amid inanimate flowers, and -unthinking birds. I come from a world -where all, as I do, think and speak.” Immalee -was speechless with wonder and -delight for some time; at length she exclaimed, -“Oh, how they must love each -other! even I love my poor birds and -flowers, and the trees that shade, and the -waters that sing to me!” The stranger -smiled. “In all that world, perhaps there -is not another being beautiful and innocent -as you. It is a world of suffering, -guilt, and care.” It was with much difficulty -she was made to comprehend the -meaning of these words, but when she did, -she exclaimed, “Oh, that I could live in -that world, for I would make every one -happy!”—“But you could not, Immalee,” -said the stranger; “this world is of such -extent that it would take your whole life -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_115" title="115"> </a> -to traverse it, and, during your progress, -you never could be conversant with more -than a small number of sufferers at a time, -and the evils they undergo are in many -instances such as you or no human power -could relieve.” At these words, Immalee -burst into an agony of tears. “Weak, -but lovely being,” said the stranger, “could -your tears heal the corrosions of disease?—cool -the burning throb of a cancered heart?—wash -the pale slime from the clinging -lips of famine?—or, more than all, quench -the fire of forbidden passion?” Immalee -paused aghast at this enumeration, and -could only faulter out, that wherever she -went, she would bring her flowers and sunshine -among the healthy, and they should -all sit under the shade of her own tamarind. -That for disease and death, she had long -been accustomed to see flowers wither and -die their beautiful death of nature. “And -perhaps,” she added, after a reflective pause, -“as I have often known them to retain -their delicious odour even after they were -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_116" title="116"> </a> -faded, perhaps <em>what thinks</em> may live too -after the form has faded, and that is a -thought of joy.” Of passion, she said -she knew nothing, and could propose -no remedy for an evil she was unconscious -of. She had seen flowers fade with -the season, but could not imagine why the -flower should destroy itself. “But did -you never trace a worm in the flower?” -said the stranger, with the sophistry of -corruption. “Yes,” answered Immalee, -“but the worm was not the native of the -flower; its own leaves never could have -hurt it.” This led to a discussion, which -Immalee’s impregnable innocence, though -combined with ardent curiosity and quick -apprehension, rendered perfectly harmless -to her. Her playful and desultory answers,—her -restless eccentricity of imagination,—her -keen and piercing, though -ill-poised intellectual weapons,—and, above -all, her instinctive and unfailing <em>tact</em> in -matters of right and wrong, formed altogether -an array that discomfited and baffled -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_117" title="117"> </a> -the tempter more than if he had been compelled -to encounter half the <em>wranglers</em> of -the European academies of that day. In -the logic of the schools he was well-versed, -but in this logic of the heart and of nature, -he was “ignorance itself.” It is said, that -the “awless lion” crouches before “a maid -in the pride of her purity.” The tempter -was departing gloomily, when he saw tears -start from the bright eyes of Immalee, and -caught a wild and dark omen from her innocent -grief. “And you weep, Immalee?” -“Yes,” said the beautiful being, “I always -weep when I see the sun set in clouds; and -will you, the sun of my heart, set in darkness -too? and will you not rise again? will you -not?” and, with the graceful confidence of -pure innocence, she pressed her red delicious -lip to his hand as she spoke. -“Will you not? I shall never love my -roses and peacocks if you do not return, -for they cannot speak to me as you do, -nor can I give them one thought, but you -can give me many. Oh, I would like to -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_118" title="118"> </a> -have many thoughts about <em>the world that -suffers</em>, from which you came; and I believe -you came from it, for, till I saw you, -I never felt a pain that was not pleasure; -but now, it is all pain when I think you -will not return.”—“I will return,” said -the stranger, “beautiful Immalee, and will -shew you, at my return, a glimpse of that -world from which I come, and in which -you will soon be an inmate.”—“But shall -I see you there,” said Immalee, “otherwise -how shall I <em>talk thoughts</em>?”—“Oh -yes,—oh certainly.”—“But why do you -repeat the same words twice; <em>your once</em> -would have been enough.”—“Well then, -yes.”—“Then take this rose from me, and -let us inhale its odour together, as I say to -my friend in the fountain, when I bend to -kiss <em>it</em>; but my friend withdraws <em>its</em> rose -before I have tasted it, and I leave mine -on the water. Will you not take my -rose,” said the beautiful suppliant, bending -towards him. “I will,” said the stranger; -and he took a flower from the cluster Immalee -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_119" title="119"> </a> -held out to him. It was a withered -one. He snatched it, and hid it in his -breast. “And will you go without a canoe -across that dark sea?” said Immalee.—“We -shall meet again, and meet in the -<em>world of suffering</em>,” said the stranger.—“Thank -you,—oh, thank you,” repeated -Immalee, as she saw him plunge fearless -amid the surf. The stranger answered only, -“We shall meet again.” Twice, as he -parted, he threw a glance at the beautiful -and isolated being; a lingering of humanity -trembled round his heart,—but he tore -the withered rose from his bosom, and to -the waved arm and angel-smile of Immalee, -he answered, “We shall meet again.”</p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 id="Chapter_XVI">CHAPTER XVI.<a class="pagenum" name="Page_120" title="120"> </a></h2> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="line">Più non ho la dolce speranza.<br /></div> -<div class="line right small-caps">Didone.<br /></div> -</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="drop-cap"><span class="small-caps">“Seven</span> mornings and evenings Immalee -paced the sands of her lonely isle, without -seeing the stranger. She had still his promise -to console her, that they should meet -in the world of suffering; and this she repeated -to herself as if it was full of hope -and consolation. In this interval she tried -to educate herself for her introduction into -this world, and it was beautiful to see her -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_121" title="121"> </a> -attempting, from vegetable and animal -analogies, to form some image of the incomprehensible -destiny of man. In the -shade she watched the withering flower.—“The -blood that ran red through its veins -yesterday is purple to-day, and will be -black and dry to-morrow,” she said; “but -it feels no pain—it dies patiently,—and -the ranunculus and tulip near it are untouched -by grief for their companion, or -their colours would not be so resplendent. -But can it be thus in the world that -thinks? Could I see <em>him</em> wither and die, -without withering and dying along with -him. Oh no! when that flower fades, I -will be the dew that falls over him!”</p> - -<p>“She attempted to enlarge her comprehension, -by observing the animal world. -A young loxia had fallen dead from its -pendent nest; and Immalee, looking into -the aperture which that intelligent bird -forms at the lower extremity of the nest -to secure it from birds of prey, perceived -the old ones with fire-flies in their small -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_122" title="122"> </a> -beaks, their young one lying dead before -them. At this sight Immalee burst into -tears.—“Ah! you cannot weep,” she said, -“what an advantage I have over you! -You eat, though your young one, your -own one, is dead; but could I ever drink -of the milk of the cocoa, if <em>he</em> could no -longer taste it? I begin to comprehend -what he said—to think, then, is to suffer—and -a world of thought must be a world -of pain! But how delicious are these -tears! Formerly I wept for pleasure—but -there is a pain sweeter than pleasure, that -I never felt till I beheld <em>him</em>. Oh! who -would not think, to have the joy of tears?”</p> - -<p>“But Immalee did not occupy this interval -solely in reflection; a new anxiety began -to agitate her; and in the intervals of -her meditation and her tears, she searched -with avidity for the most glowing and fantastically -wreathed shells to deck her arms -and hair with. She changed her drapery of -flowers every day, and never thought them -fresh after the first hour; then she filled her -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_123" title="123"> </a> -largest shells with the most limpid water, -and her hollow cocoa nuts with the most -delicious figs, interspersed with roses, and -arranged them picturesquely on the stone -bench of the ruined pagoda. The time, -however, passed over without the arrival -of the stranger, and Immalee, on visiting -her fairy banquet the next day, wept over -the withered fruit, but dried her eyes, and -hastened to replace them.</p> - -<p>“She was thus employed on the eighth -morning, when she saw the stranger approach; -and the wild and innocent delight -with which she bounded towards him, excited -in him for a moment a feeling of -gloomy and reluctant compunction, which -Immalee’s quick susceptibility traced in -his pausing step and averted eye. She -stood trembling in lovely and pleading -diffidence, as if intreating pardon for an -unconscious offence, and asking permission -to approach by the very attitude in -which she forbore it, while tears stood in -her eyes ready to fall at another repelling -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_124" title="124"> </a> -motion. This sight “whetted his almost -blunted purpose.” She must learn to -suffer, to qualify her to become my pupil, -he thought. “Immalee, you weep,” he -added, approaching her. “Oh yes!” said -Immalee, smiling like a spring morning -through her tears; “you are to teach me -to suffer, and I shall soon be very fit for -your world—but I had rather weep for -you, than smile on a thousand roses.”—“Immalee,” -said the stranger, repelling -the tenderness that melted him in spite of -himself, “Immalee, I come to shew you -something of the world of thought you -are so anxious to inhabit, and of which -you must soon become an inmate. Ascend -this hill where the palm-trees are clustering, -and you shall see a glimpse of part of -it.”—“But I would like to see the whole, -and all at once!” said Immalee, with the -natural avidity of thirsty and unfed intellect, -that believes it can swallow all things, -and digest all things. “The whole, and -all at once!” said her conductor, turning to -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_125" title="125"> </a> -smile at her as she bounded after him, -<ins title="breathles">breathless</ins> and glowing with newly excited -feeling. “I doubt the part you will -see to-night will be more than enough to -satiate even your curiosity.” As he spoke -he drew a tube from his vest, and bid her -apply it to her sight. The Indian obeyed -him; but, after gazing a moment, uttered -the emphatic exclamation, “I am there!—or -are they here?” and sunk on the -earth in a frenzy of delight. She rose -again in a moment, and eagerly seizing -the telescope, applied it in a wrong direction, -which disclosed merely the sea to her -view, and exclaimed sadly, “Gone!—gone—all -that beautiful world lived and -died in a moment—all that I love die so—my -dearest roses live not half so long -as those I neglect—you were absent for -seven moons since I first saw you, and the -beautiful world lived only a moment.”</p> - -<p>“The stranger again directed the telescope -towards the shore of India, from -which they were not far distant, and Immalee -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_126" title="126"> </a> -again exclaimed in rapture, “Alive -and more beautiful than ever!—all living, -thinking things!—their <em>very walk thinks</em>. -No mute fishes, and senseless trees, but -wonderful rocks<a name="FootnoteMarker_12" href="#Footnote_12" class="footnote-marker">(12)</a>, on which they look -with pride, as if they were the works of -their own hands. Beautiful rocks! how -I love the perfect straitness of your sides, -and the crisped and flower-like knots of -your decorated tops! Oh that flowers -grew, and birds fluttered round you, and -then I would prefer you even to the rocks -under which I watch the setting sun! Oh -what a world must that be where nothing -is natural, and every thing beautiful!—thought -must have done all that. But, -how <em>little every thing is</em>!—thought should -have made every thing larger—<em>thought -should be a god</em>. But,” she added with -quick intelligence and self-accusing diffidence, -“perhaps I am wrong. Sometimes -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_127" title="127"> </a> -I have thought I could lay my hand on -the top of a palm-tree, but when, after a -long, long time, I came close to it, I could -not have reached its lowest leaf were I ten -times higher than I am. Perhaps your -beautiful world may grow higher as I approach -it.”—“Hold, Immalee,” said the -stranger, taking the telescope from her -hands, “to enjoy this sight you should -understand it.”—“Oh yes!” said Immalee, -with submissive anxiety, as the world of -sense rapidly lost ground in her imagination -against the new-found world of mind,—“yes—let -me think.”—“Immalee, have -you any religion?” said the visitor, as an -indescribable feeling of pain made his -pale brow still paler. Immalee, quick -in understanding and sympathising with -physical feeling, darted away at these -words, returned in a moment with a banyan -leaf, with which she wiped the drops -from his livid forehead; and then seating -herself at his feet, in an attitude of profound -but eager attention, repeated, “<em>Religion!</em> -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_128" title="128"> </a> -what is that? is it a new thought?”—“It -is the consciousness of a Being superior -to all worlds and their inhabitants, -because he is the Maker of all, and will be -their judge—of a Being whom we cannot -see, but in whose power and presence we -must believe, though invisible—of one who -is every where unseen; always acting, -though never in motion; hearing all things, -but never heard.” Immalee interrupted -with an air of distraction—“Hold! too -many thoughts will kill me—let me pause. -I have seen the shower that came to refresh -the rose-tree beat it to the earth.” -After an effort of solemn recollection, she -added, “The voice of dreams told me -something like that before I was born, but -it is so long ago,—sometimes I have had -thoughts within me like that voice. I -have thought I loved the things around -me too much, and that I should love things -<em>beyond</em> me—flowers that could not fade, -and a sun that never sets. I could have -sprung, like a bird into the air, after such -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_129" title="129"> </a> -a thought—but there was no one to shew -me that path upward.” And the young -enthusiast lifted towards heaven eyes in -which trembled the tears of ecstatic imaginings, -and then turned their mute pleadings -on the stranger.</p> - -<p>“It is right,” he continued, “not only -to have thoughts of this Being, but to express -them by some outward acts. The -inhabitants of the world you are about to -see, call this, <em>worship</em>,—and they have -adopted (a Satanic smile curled his lip as -he spoke) very different modes; so different, -that, in fact, there is but one point in -which they all agree—that of making their -religion a torment;—the religion of some -prompting them to torture themselves, and -the religion of some prompting them to -torture others. Though, as I observed, -they all agree in this important point, yet -unhappily they differ so much about the -mode, that there has been much disturbance -about it in the world that thinks.”—“In -the world that <em>thinks</em>!” repeated Immalee, -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_130" title="130"> </a> -“Impossible! Surely they must -know that a difference cannot be acceptable -to Him who is One.”—“And have -you then adopted no mode of expressing -your thoughts of this Being, that is, of -worshipping him?” said the stranger.—“I -smile when the sun rises in its -beauty, and I weep when I see the evening -star rise,” said Immalee.—“And do -you recoil at the inconsistencies of varied -modes of worship, and yet you -yourself employ smiles and tears in your -address to the Deity?”—“I do,—for -they are both the expressions of joy with -me,” said the poor Indian; “the sun -is as happy when he smiles through the -rain-clouds, as when he burns in the mid-height -of heaven, in the fierceness of his -beauty; and I am happy whether I smile -or I weep.”—“Those whom you are about -to see,” said the stranger, offering her the -telescope, “are as remote in their forms -of worship as smiles from tears; but they -are not, like you, equally happy in both.” -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_131" title="131"> </a> -Immalee applied her eye to the telescope, -and exclaimed in rapture at what she saw. -“What do you see?” said the stranger. -Immalee described what she saw with -many imperfect expressions, which, perhaps, -may be rendered more intelligible by -the explanatory words of the stranger.</p> - -<p>“You see,” said he, “the coast of India, -the shores of the world near you.—There -is the black pagoda of Juggernaut, -that enormous building on which your eye -is first fixed. Beside it stands a Turkish -mosque—you may distinguish it by a figure -like that of the half-moon. It is the -will of him who rules that world, that its -inhabitants should worship him by that -sign<a name="FootnoteMarker_13" href="#Footnote_13" class="footnote-marker">(13)</a>. At a small distance you may see -a low building with a trident on its summit—that -is the temple of Maha-deva, one -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_132" title="132"> </a> -of the ancient goddesses of the country.”—“But -the houses are nothing to me,” said -Immalee, “shew me the living things -that go there. The houses are not half -so beautiful as the rocks on the shore, -draperied all over with sea-weeds and -mosses, and shaded by the distant palm-tree -and cocoa.”—“But those buildings,” -said the tempter, “are indicative of the -various modes of thinking of those who -frequent them. If it is into their thoughts -you wish to look, you must see them expressed -by their actions. In their dealings -with each other, men are generally deceitful, -but in their dealings with their gods, -they are tolerably sincere in the expression -of the character they assign them in their -imaginations. If that character be formidable, -they express fear; if it be one of -cruelty, they indicate it by the sufferings -they inflict on themselves; if it be gloomy, -the image of the god is faithfully reflected -in the visage of the worshipper. Look -and judge.”</p> - -<p><a class="pagenum" name="Page_133" title="133"> </a>“Immalee looked and saw a vast sandy -plain, with the dark pagoda of Juggernaut -in the perspective. On this plain lay the -bones of a thousand skeletons, bleaching -in the burning and unmoistened air. A -thousand human bodies, hardly more alive, -and scarce less emaciated, were trailing -their charred and blackened bodies over -the sands, to perish under the shadow of -the temple, hopeless of ever reaching that -of its walls.</p> - -<p>“Multitudes of them dropt dead as they -crawled. Multitudes still living, faintly -waved their hands, to scare the vultures -that hovered nearer and nearer at every -swoop, and scooped the poor remnants of -flesh from the living bones of the screaming -victim, and retreated, with an answering -scream of disappointment at the scanty -and tasteless morsel they had torn <ins title="away.”">away.</ins></p> - -<p>“Many tried, in their false and fanatic -zeal, to double their torments, by crawling -through the sands on their hands and -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_134" title="134"> </a> -knees; but hands through the backs of -which the nails had grown, and knees -worn literally to the bone, struggled but -feebly amid the sands and the skeletons, -and the bodies that were soon to be skeletons, -and the vultures that were to make -them so.</p> - -<p>“Immalee withheld her breath, as if -she inhaled the abominable effluvia of this -mass of putrefaction, which is said to desolate -the shores near the temple of Juggernaut, -like a pestilence.</p> - -<p>“Close to this fearful scene, came on a -pageant, whose splendour made a brilliant -and terrible contrast to the loathsome and -withering desolation of animal and intellectual -life, amid which its pomp came -towering, and sparkling, and trembling on. -An enormous fabric, more resembling a -moving palace than a triumphal car, supported -the inshrined image of Juggernaut, -and was dragged forward by the united -strength of a thousand human bodies, -priests, victims, brahmins, faqueers and all. -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_135" title="135"> </a> -In spite of this huge force, the impulse -was so unequal, that the whole edifice rocked -and tottered from time to time, and -this singular union of instability and splendour, -of trembling decadence and terrific -glory, gave a faithful image of the meretricious -exterior, and internal hollowness, -of idolatrous religion. As the procession -moved on, sparkling amid desolation, and -triumphant amid death, multitudes rushed -forward from time to time, to prostrate -themselves under the wheels of the enormous -machine, which crushed them to atoms -in a moment, and passed on;—others -“cut themselves with knives and lancets -after their manner,” and not believing -themselves worthy to perish beneath the -wheels of the idol’s chariot, sought to propitiate -him by dying the tracks of those -wheels with their blood;—their relatives -and friends shouted with delight as they saw -the streams of blood dye the car and its line -of progress, and hoped for an interest in -these voluntary sacrifices, with as much energy, -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_136" title="136"> </a> -and perhaps as much reason, as the -Catholic votarist does in the penance of St -Bruno, or the ex-oculation of St Lucia, or -the martyrdom of St Ursula and her eleven -thousand virgins, which, being interpreted, -means the martyrdom of a single female -named <em>Undecimilla</em>, which the Catholic -legends read <em>Undecim Mille</em>.</p> - -<p>“The procession went on, amid that -mixture of rites that characterizes idolatry -in all countries,—half resplendent, half horrible—appealing -to nature while they rebel -against her—mingling flowers with blood, -and casting alternately a screaming infant, -or a garland of roses, beneath the car of the -idol.</p> - -<p>“Such was the picture that presented to -the strained, incredulous eyes of Immalee, -those mingled features of magnificence -and horror,—of joy and suffering,—of -crushed flowers and mangled bodies,—of -magnificence calling on torture for its -triumph,—and the steam of blood and the -incense of the rose, inhaled at once by the -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_137" title="137"> </a> -triumphant nostrils of an incarnate demon, -who rode amid the wrecks of nature and -the spoils of the heart! Immalee gazed on -in horrid curiosity. She saw, by the aid -of the telescope, a boy seated on the front -of the moving temple, who “perfected the -praise” of the loathsome idol, with all the -outrageous lubricities of the Phallic worship. -From the slightest consciousness of -the meaning of this phenomenon, her unimaginable -purity protected her as with a -shield. It was in vain that the tempter -plied her with questions, and hints of explanation, -and offers of illustration. He -found her chill, indifferent, and even incurious. -He gnashed his teeth and gnawed -his lip <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">en parenthese</i>. But when she -saw mothers cast their infants under the -wheels of the car, and then turn to watch -the wild and wanton dance of the Almahs, -and appear, by their open lips and clapped -hands, to keep time to the sound of the -silver bells that tinkled round their slight -ankles, while their infants were writhing -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_138" title="138"> </a> -in their dying agony,—she dropt the telescope -in horror, and exclaimed, “The -world that thinks does not feel. I never -saw the rose kill the bud!”</p> - -<p>“But look again,” said the tempter, -“to that square building of stone, round -which a few stragglers are collected, and -whose summit is surmounted by a <ins title="trident.">trident,</ins>—that -is the temple of Maha-deva, a goddess -who possesses neither the power or -the popularity of the great idol Juggernaut. -Mark how her worshippers approach -her.” Immalee looked, and saw -women offering flowers, fruits, and perfumes; -and some young girls brought -birds in cages, whom they set free; others, -after making vows for the safety of some -absent, sent a small and gaudy boat of paper, -illuminated with wax, down the -stream of an adjacent river, with injunctions -never to sink till it reached him.</p> - -<p>“Immalee smiled with pleasure at the -rites of this harmless and elegant superstition. -“This is not the religion of torment,” -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_139" title="139"> </a> -said she.—“Look again,” said the -stranger. She did, and beheld those very -women whose hands had been employed -in liberating birds from their cages, suspending, -on the branches of the trees -which shadowed the temple of Maha-deva, -baskets containing their new-born infants, -who were left there to perish with hunger, -or be devoured by the birds, while -their mothers danced and sung in honour -of the goddess.</p> - -<p>“Others were occupied in conveying, -apparently with the most zealous and tender -watchfulness, their aged parents to the -banks of the river, where, after assisting -them to perform their ablations, with all -the intensity of filial and divine piety, they -left them half immersed in the water, to be -devoured by alligators, who did not suffer -their wretched prey to linger in long -expectation of their horrible death; while -others were deposited in the jungles near -the banks of the river, where they met -with a fate as certain and as horrible, from -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_140" title="140"> </a> -the tigers who infested it, and whose yell -soon hushed the feeble wail of their unresisting -victims.</p> - -<p>“Immalee sunk on the earth at this -spectacle, and clasping both hands over -her eyes, remained speechless with grief -and horror.</p> - -<p>“Look yet again,” said the stranger, -“the rites of all religions are not so bloody.” -Once more she looked, and saw a Turkish -mosque, towering in all the splendour that -accompanied the first introduction of the -religion of Mahomet among the Hindoos. -It reared its gilded domes, and carved minarets, -and crescented pinnacles, rich with -all the profusion which the decorative imagination -of Oriental architecture, at once -light and luxuriant, gorgeous and aerial, -delights to lavish on its favourite works.</p> - -<p>“A group of stately Turks were approaching -the mosque, at the call of the -muezzin. Around the building arose -neither tree nor shrub; it borrowed neither -shade nor ornament from nature; it had -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_141" title="141"> </a> -none of those soft and graduating shades -and hues, which seem to unite the works -of God and the creature for the glory of the -former, and calls on the inventive magnificence -of art, and the spontaneous loveliness -of nature, to magnify the Author of both; -it stood the independent work and emblem -of vigorous hands and proud minds, -such as appeared to belong to those who -now approached it as worshippers. Their -finely featured and thoughtful countenances, -their majestic habits, and lofty figures, -formed an imposing contrast to the -unintellectual expression, the crouching -posture, and the half naked squalidness of -some poor Hindoos, who, seated on their -hams, were eating their mess of rice, as -the stately Turks passed on to their devotions. -Immalee viewed them with a feeling -of awe and pleasure, and began to -think there might be some good in the religion -professed by these noble-looking -beings. But, before they entered the -mosque, they spurned and spit at the unoffending -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_142" title="142"> </a> -and terrified Hindoos; they -struck them with the flats of their sabres, -and, terming them dogs of idolaters, they -cursed them in the name of God and the -prophet. Immalee, revolted and indignant -at the sight, though she could not hear the -words that accompanied it, demanded the -reason of it. “Their religion,” said the stranger, -“binds them to hate all who do not worship -as they do.”—“Alas!” said Immalee, -weeping, “is not that hatred which their -religion teaches, a proof that theirs is the -worst? But why,” she added, her features -illuminated with all the wild and sparkling -intelligence of wonder, while flushed with -recent fears, “why do I not see among -them some of those lovelier beings, whose -habits differ from theirs, and whom you -call women? Why do they not worship -also; or have they a milder religion of -their own?”—“<em>That</em> religion,” replied the -stranger, “is not very favourable to those -beings, of whom you are the loveliest; it -teaches that men shall have different companions -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_143" title="143"> </a> -in the world of souls; nor does it -clearly intimate that women shall ever arrive -there. Hence you may see some of -these excluded beings wandering amid -those stones that designate the place of -their dead, repeating prayers for the dead -whom they dare not hope to join; and -others, who are old and indigent, seated -at the doors of the mosque, reading aloud -passages from a book lying on their knees, -(which they call the Koran), with the hope -of soliciting alms, not of exciting devotion.” -At these desolating words, Immalee, who -had in vain looked to any of these systems -for that hope or solace which her pure -spirit and vivid imagination alike thirsted -for, felt a recoiling of the soul unutterable -at religion thus painted to her, and exhibiting -only a frightful picture of blood -and cruelty, of the inversion of every principle -of nature, and the disruption of every -tie of the heart.</p> - -<p>“She flung herself on the ground, and -exclaiming, “There is no God, if there be -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_144" title="144"> </a> -none but theirs!” then, starting up as if to -take a last view, in the desperate hope that -all was an illusion, she discovered a small -obscure building overshaded by palm-trees, -and surmounted by a cross; and struck by -the unobtrusive simplicity of its appearance, -and the scanty number and peaceable -demeanour of the few who were approaching -it, she exclaimed, that this must be a -new religion, and eagerly demanded its -name and rites. The stranger evinced -some uneasiness at the discovery she had -made, and testified still more reluctance to -answer the questions which it suggested; -but they were pressed with such restless -and coaxing importunity, and the beautiful -being who urged them made such <ins title="an an">an</ins> -artless transition from profound and -meditative grief to childish, yet intelligent -curiosity, that it was not in man, or more -or less than man, to resist her.</p> - -<p><ins title="Her">“Her</ins> glowing features, as she turned them -toward him, with an expression half impatient, -half pleading, were indeed those -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_145" title="145"> </a> -“<a name="FootnoteMarker_14" href="#Footnote_14" class="footnote-marker">(14)</a>of a stilled infant smiling through its -tears.” Perhaps, too, another cause might -have operated on this prophet of curses, -and made him utter a blessing where he -meant malediction; but into this we dare -not inquire, nor will it ever be fully known -till the day when all secrets must be disclosed. -However it was, he felt himself -compelled to tell her it was a new religion, -the religion of Christ, whose rites and worshippers -she beheld. “But what are the -rites?” asked Immalee. “Do they murder -their children, or their parents, to prove -their love to God? Do they hang them -on baskets to perish, or leave them on the -banks of rivers to be devoured by fierce and -hideous animals?”—“The religion they -profess forbids that,” said the stranger, with -reluctant truth; “it requires them to honour -their parents, and to cherish their -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_146" title="146"> </a> -children.”—“But why do they not spurn -from the entrance to their church those -who do not think as they do?”—“Because -their religion enjoins them to be mild, benevolent, -and tolerant; and neither to reject -or disdain those who have not attained -its purer light.”—“But why is there no -splendour or magnificence in their worship; -nothing grand or attractive?”—“Because -they know that God cannot be acceptably -worshipped but by pure hearts -and crimeless hands; and though their religion -gives every hope to the penitent -guilty, it flatters none with false promises -of external devotion supplying the homage -of the heart; or artificial and picturesque -religion standing in the place of that single -devotion to God, before whose throne, -though the proudest temples erected to his -honour crumble into dust, the heart burns -on the altar still, an inextinguishable and -acceptable victim.”</p> - -<p>“As he spoke, (perhaps constrained by -a higher power), Immalee bowed her glowing -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_147" title="147"> </a> -face to the earth, and then raising it -with the look of a new-born angel, exclaimed, -“Christ shall be my God, and I -will be a Christian!” Again she bowed in -the deep prostration which indicates the -united submission of soul and body, and -remained in this attitude of absorption so -long, that, when she rose, she did not -perceive the absence of her companion.—“He -fled murmuring, and with him fled -the shades of night.”</p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 id="Chapter_XVII">CHAPTER <ins title="XIV">XVII</ins>.<a class="pagenum" name="Page_148" title="148"> </a></h2> - -<blockquote> -<p>“Why, I did say something about getting a licence -from the Cadi.”</p> - -<p class="right small-caps">Blue Beard.</p> -</blockquote> -</div> - -<p class="drop-cap"><span class="small-caps">“The</span> visits of the stranger were interrupted -for some time, and when he returned, -it seemed as if their purpose was -no longer the same. He no longer attempted -to corrupt her principles, or sophisticate -her understanding, or mystify -her views of religion. On the latter subject -he was quite silent, seemed to regret -he had ever touched on it, and not -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_149" title="149"> </a> -all her restless avidity of knowledge, or -caressing importunity of manner, could -extract from him another syllable on the -subject. He repayed her amply, however, -by the rich, varied, and copious -stores of a mind, furnished with matter -apparently beyond the power of human -experience to have collected, confined, as -it is, within the limits of threescore years -and ten. But this never struck Immalee; -she took “no note of time;” and the -tale of yesterday, or the record of past centuries, -were synchronized in a mind to -which facts and dates were alike unknown; -and which was alike unacquainted with -the graduating shades of manner, and the -linked progress of events.</p> - -<p>“They often sat on the shore of the -isle in the evening, where Immalee always -prepared a seat of moss for her visitor, and -gazed together on the blue deep in silence; -for Immalee’s newly-awaked intellect and -heart felt that bankruptcy of language, -which profound feeling will impress on the -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_150" title="150"> </a> -most cultivated intellect, and which, in -her case, was increased alike by her innocence -and her ignorance; and her visitor -had perhaps reasons still stronger for his -silence. This silence, however, was often -broken. There was not a vessel that sailed -in the distance which did not suggest -an eager question from Immalee, and did -not draw a slow and extorted reply from the -stranger. His knowledge was immense, -various, and profound, (but this was rather -a subject of delight than of curiosity to his -beautiful pupil); and from the Indian canoe, -rowed by naked natives, to the splendid, -and clumsy, and ill-managed vessels of the -Rajahs, that floated like huge and gilded fish -tumbling in uncouth and shapeless mirth -on the wave, to the gallant and well-manned -vessels of Europe, that came on like the gods -of ocean bringing fertility and knowledge, -the discoveries of art, and the blessings of -civilization, wherever their sails were unfurled -and their anchors dropt,—he could -tell her all,—describe the destination of -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_151" title="151"> </a> -every vessel,—the feelings, characters, and -national habits of the many-minded inmates,—and -enlarge her knowledge to a -degree which books never could have done; -for colloquial communication is always the -most vivid and impressive medium, and -lips have a prescriptive right to be the -first intelligencers in instruction and in -love.</p> - -<p>“Perhaps this extraordinary being, with -regard to whom the laws of mortality and -the feelings of nature seemed to be alike -suspended, felt a kind of sad and wild repose -from the destiny that immitigably -pursued him, in the society of Immalee. -We know not, and can never tell, what -sensations her innocent and helpless beauty -inspired him with, but the result was, that -he ceased to regard her as his victim; and, -when seated beside her listening to her -questions, or answering them, seemed to -enjoy the few lucid intervals of his insane -and morbid existence. Absent from her, -he returned to the world to torture and -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_152" title="152"> </a> -to tempt in the mad-house where the -Englishman Stanton was tossing on his -straw<span style="white-space: nowrap;">——</span>”</p> - -<p>“Hold!” said Melmoth; “what name -have you mentioned?”—“Have patience -with me, Senhor,” said Monçada, who did -not like interruption; “have patience, and -you will find we are all beads strung on -the same string. Why should we jar -against each other? our union is indissoluble.” -He proceeded with the story of -the unhappy Indian, as recorded in the -parchments of Adonijah, which he had -been compelled to copy, and of which he -was anxious to impress every line and letter -on his listener, to substantiate his own -extraordinary story.</p> - -<p>“When absent from her, his purpose -was what I have described; but while present, -that purpose seemed suspended; he -gazed often on her with eyes whose wild -and fierce lustre was quenched in a dew -that he hastily wiped away, and gazed on -her again. While he sat near her on the -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_153" title="153"> </a> -flowers she had collected for him,—while -he looked on those timid and rosy lips that -waited his signal to speak, like buds that -did not dare to blow till the sun shone on -them,—while he heard accents issue from -those lips which he felt it would be as impossible -to pervert as it would be to teach -the nightingale blasphemy,—he sunk down -beside her, passed his hand over his livid -brow, and, wiping off some cold drops, -thought for a moment he was not the Cain -of the moral world, and that the brand was -effaced,—at least for a moment. The habitual -and impervious gloom of his soul soon -returned. He felt again the gnawings of -the worm that never dies, and the scorchings -of the fire that is never to be quenched. -He turned the fatal light of his dark eyes -on the only being who never shrunk from -their expression, for her innocence made -her fearless. He looked intensely at her, -while rage, despair, and pity, convulsed his -heart; and as he beheld the confiding and -conciliating smile with which this gentle -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_154" title="154"> </a> -being met a look that might have withered -the heart of the boldest within him,—a -Semele gazing in supplicating love on the -lightnings that were to blast her,—one human -drop dimmed their portentous lustre, -as its softened rays fell on her. Turning -fiercely away, he flung his view on the ocean, -as if to find, in the sight of human life, -some fuel for the fire that was consuming -his vitals. The ocean, that lay calm and -bright before them as a sea of jasper, never -reflected two more different countenances, -or sent more opposite feelings to two hearts. -Over Immalee’s, it breathed that deep and -delicious reverie, which those forms of nature -that unite tranquillity and profundity -diffuse over souls whose innocence gives -them a right to an unmingled and exclusive -enjoyment of nature. None but crimeless -and unimpassioned minds ever truly -enjoyed earth, ocean, and heaven. At -our first transgression, nature expels us, -as it did our first parents, from her paradise -for ever.</p> - -<p>“To the stranger the view was fraught -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_155" title="155"> </a> -with far different visions. He viewed it -as a tiger views a forest abounding with -prey; there might be the storm and the -wreck; or, if the elements were obstinately -calm, there might be the gaudy and -gilded pleasure barge, in which a Rajah -and the beautiful women of his haram were -inhaling the sea breeze under canopies of -silk and gold, overturned by the unskilfulness -of their rowers, and their plunge, -and struggle, and dying agony, amid the -smile and beauty of the calm ocean, produce -one of those contrasts in which his -fierce spirit delighted. Or, were even this -denied, he could watch the vessels as they -floated by, and, from the skiff to the huge -trader, be sure that every one bore its -freight of woe and crime. There came on -the European vessels full of the passions and -crimes of another world,—of its sateless cupidity, -remorseless cruelty, its intelligence, -all awake and ministrant in the cause of -its evil passions, and its very refinement -operating as a stimulant to more inventive -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_156" title="156"> </a> -indulgence, and more systematized vice. -He saw them approach to traffic for “gold, -and silver, and the souls of men;”—to -grasp, with breathless rapacity, the gems -and precious produce of those luxuriant -climates, and deny the inhabitants the rice -that supported their inoffensive existence;—to -discharge the load of their crimes, their -lust and their avarice, and after ravaging -the land, and plundering the natives, depart, -leaving behind them famine, despair, -and execration; and bearing with -them back to Europe, blasted constitutions, -inflamed passions, ulcerated hearts, -and consciences that could not endure -the extinction of a light in their sleeping -apartment.</p> - -<p>“Such were the objects for which he -watched; and one evening, when solicited -by Immalee’s incessant questions about -the worlds to which the vessels were hastening, -or to which they were returning, -he gave her a description of the world, -after his manner, in a spirit of mingled -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_157" title="157"> </a> -derision, malignity, and impatient bitterness -at the innocence of her curiosity. -There was a mixture of fiendish acrimony, -biting irony, and fearful truth, in his wild -sketch, which was often interrupted by -the cries of astonishment, grief, and terror, -from his hearer. “They come,” said he, -pointing to the European vessels, “from a -world where the only study of the inhabitants -is how to increase their own sufferings, -and those of others, to the utmost -possible degree; and, considering they -have only had 4000 years practice at the -task, it must be allowed they are tolerable -proficients.”—“But is it possible?”—“You -shall judge. In aid, doubtless, of this desirable -object, they have been all originally -gifted with imperfect constitutions and -evil passions; and, not to be ungrateful, -they pass their lives in contriving how to -augment the infirmities of the one, and -aggravate the acerbities of the other. -They are not like you, Immalee, a being -who breathes amid roses, and subsists only -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_158" title="158"> </a> -on the juices of fruits, and the lymph of -the pure element. In order to render -their thinking powers more gross, and -their spirits more fiery, they devour animals, -and torture from abused vegetables -a drink, that, without quenching thirst, -has the power of extinguishing reason, inflaming -passion, and shortening life—the -best result of all—for life under such circumstances -owes its only felicity to the -shortness of its duration.”</p> - -<p>“Immalee shuddered at the mention of -animal food, as the most delicate European -would at the mention of a cannibal -feast; and while tears trembled in her -beautiful eyes, she turned them wistfully -on her peacocks with an expression that -made the stranger smile. “Some,” said -he, by way of consolation, “have a taste -by no means so sophisticated,—they content -themselves at their need with the flesh -of their fellow-creatures; and as human -life is always miserable, and animal life -never so, (except from elementary causes), -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_159" title="159"> </a> -one would imagine this the most humane -and salutary way of at once gratifying the -appetite, and diminishing the mass of human -suffering. But as these people pique -themselves on their ingenuity in aggravating -the sufferings of their situation, they -leave thousands of human beings yearly to -perish by hunger and grief, and amuse -themselves in feeding on animals, whom, -by depriving of existence, they deprive of -the only pleasure their condition has allotted -them. When they have thus, by unnatural -diet and outrageous stimulation, -happily succeeded in corrupting infirmity -into disease, and exasperating passion into -madness, they proceed to exhibit the proofs -of their success, with an expertness and -consistency truly admirable. They do not, -like you, Immalee, live in the lovely independence -of nature—lying on the earth, -and sleeping with all the eyes of heaven -unveiled to watch you—treading the same -grass till your light step feels a friend in -every blade it presses—and conversing -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_160" title="160"> </a> -with flowers, till you feel yourself and -them children of the united family of nature, -whose mutual language of love you -have almost learned to speak to each other—no, -to effect their purpose, their food, -which is of itself poison, must be rendered -more fatal by the air they inhale; and -therefore the more civilized crowd all together -into a space which their own respiration, -and the exhalation of their bodies, -renders pestilential, and which gives -a celerity inconceivable to the circulation -of disease and mortality. Four thousand -of them will live together in a space smaller -than the last and lightest colonnade of -your young banyan-tree, in order, doubtless, -to increase the effects of fœtid air, artificial -heat, unnatural habits, and impracticable -exercise. The result of these judicious -precautions is just what may be -guessed. The most trifling complaint becomes -immediately infectious, and, during -the ravages of the pestilence, which this -habit generates, ten thousand lives a-day -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_161" title="161"> </a> -are the customary sacrifice to the habit of -living in cities.”—“But they die in the -arms of those they love,” said Immalee, -whose tears flowed fast at this recital; -“and is not that better than even <em>life</em> -in solitude,—as mine was before I beheld -you?”</p> - -<p>“The stranger was too intent on his -description to heed her. “To these cities -they resort nominally for security and protection, -but really for the sole purpose to -which their existence is devoted,—that of -aggravating its miseries by every ingenuity -of refinement. For example, those who -live in uncontrasted and untantalized misery, -can hardly feel it—suffering becomes -their habit, and they feel no more jealousy -of their situation than the bat, who clings -in blind and famishing stupefaction to the -cleft of a rock, feels of the situation of the -butterfly, who drinks of the dew, and -bathes in the bloom of every flower. But -the people of the <em>other worlds</em> have invented, -by means of living in cities, a new -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_162" title="162"> </a> -and singular mode of aggravating human -wretchedness—that of contrasting it with -the wild and wanton excess of superfluous -and extravagant splendour.”</p> - -<p>“Here the stranger had incredible difficulty -to make Immalee comprehend how -there could be an unequal division of the -means of existence; and when he had done -his utmost to explain it to her, she continued -to repeat, (her white finger on her -scarlet lip, and her small foot beating the -moss), in a kind of pouting inquietude, -“Why should some have more than they -can eat, and others nothing to eat?”—“This,” -continued the stranger, “is the -most exquisite refinement on that art of -torture which those beings are so expert -in—to place misery by the side of opulence—to -bid the wretch who dies for -want feed on the sound of the splendid -equipages which shake his hovel as they -pass, but leave no relief behind—to bid -the industrious, the ingenious, and the -imaginative, starve, while bloated mediocrity -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_163" title="163"> </a> -pants from excess—to bid the dying -sufferer feel that life might be prolonged -by one drop of that exciting liquor, which, -wasted, produces only sickness or madness -in those whose lives it undermines;—to -do this is their principal object, and it is -fully attained. The sufferer through whose -rags the wind of winter blows, like arrows -lodging in every pore—whose tears freeze -before they fall—whose soul is as dreary -as the night under whose cope his resting-place -must be—whose glued and clammy -lips are unable to receive the food which -famine, lying like a burning coal at his vitals, -craves—and who, amid the horrors of -a houseless winter, might prefer its desolation -to that of the den that abuses the -name of home—without food—without -light—where the howlings of the storm -are answered by the fiercer cries of hunger—and -he must stumble to his murky -and strawless nook over the bodies of his -children, who have sunk on the floor, not -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_164" title="164"> </a> -for rest, but despair. Such a being, is he -not sufficiently miserable?”</p> - -<p>“Immalee’s shudderings were her only -answer, (though of many parts of his description -she had a very imperfect idea). -“No, he is not enough so yet,” pursued -the stranger, pressing the picture on her; -“let his steps, that know not where they -wander, conduct him to the gates of the -affluent and the luxurious—let him feel -that plenty and mirth are removed from -him but by the interval of a wall, and yet -more distant than if severed by worlds—let -him feel that while <em>his</em> world is darkness -and cold, the eyes of those within are -aching with the blaze of light, and hands -relaxed by artificial heat, are soliciting with -fans the refreshment of a breeze—let him -feel that every groan he utters is answered -by a song or a laugh—and let him die on -the steps of the mansion, while his last -conscious pang is aggravated by the -thought, that the price of the hundredth -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_165" title="165"> </a> -part of the luxuries that lie untasted before -heedless beauty and sated epicurism, -would have protracted his existence, while -it poisons theirs—let him <em>die of want on -the threshold of a banquet-hall</em>, and then -admire with me the ingenuity that displays -itself in this new combination of misery. -The inventive activity of the people -of the world, in the multiplication of -calamity, is inexhaustibly fertile in resources. -Not satisfied with diseases and famine, -with sterility of the earth, and tempests -of the air, they must have laws and -marriages, and kings and tax-gatherers, -and wars and fetes, and every variety of -artificial misery inconceivable to you.”</p> - -<p>“Immalee, overpowered by this torrent of -words, to her unintelligible words, in vain -asked a connected explanation of them. -The demon of his superhuman misanthropy -had now fully possessed him, and not -even the tones of a voice as sweet as the -strings of David’s harp, had power to expel -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_166" title="166"> </a> -the evil one. So he went on flinging -about his fire-brands and arrows, and then -saying, “Am I not in sport? These people<a name="FootnoteMarker_15" href="#Footnote_15" class="footnote-marker">(15)</a>,” -said he, “have made unto themselves kings, -that is, beings whom they voluntarily invest -with the privilege of draining, by taxation, -whatever wealth their vices have left to -the rich, and whatever means of subsistence -their want has left to the poor, till -their extortion is cursed from the castle to -the cottage—and this to support a few -pampered favourites, who are harnessed by -silken reins to the car, which they drag -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_167" title="167"> </a> -over the prostrate bodies of the multitude. -Sometimes exhausted by the monotony of -perpetual fruition, which has no parallel -even in the monotony of suffering, (for the -latter has at least the excitement of hope, -which is for ever denied to the former), -they amuse themselves by making war, -that is, collecting the greatest number of -human beings that can be bribed to the -task, to cut the throats of a less, equal, -or greater number of beings, bribed -in the same manner for the same purpose. -These creatures have not the least -cause of enmity to each other—they do -not know, they never beheld each other. -Perhaps they might, under other circumstances, -wish each other well, as far as human -malignity would suffer them; but -from the moment they are hired for legalized -massacre, hatred is their duty, and -murder their delight. The man who -would feel reluctance to destroy the reptile -that crawls in his path, will equip himself -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_168" title="168"> </a> -with metals fabricated for the purpose -of destruction, and smile to see it stained -with the blood of a being, whose existence -and happiness he would have sacrificed his -own to promote, under other circumstances. -So strong is this habit of aggravating -misery under artificial circumstances, that -it has been known, when in a sea-fight a -vessel has blown up, (here a long explanation -was owed to Immalee, which may be -spared the reader), the people of that world -have plunged into the water to save, at -the risk of their own lives, the lives of -those with whom they were grappling -amid fire and blood a moment before, and -whom, though they would sacrifice to their -passions, their pride refused to sacrifice to -the elements.”—“Oh that is beautiful!—that -is glorious!” said Immalee, clasping -her white hands; “I could bear all you -describe to see that sight!”</p> - -<p>“Her smile of innocent delight, her -spontaneous burst of high-toned feeling, -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_169" title="169"> </a> -had the usual effect of adding a darker -shade to the frown of the stranger, and a -sterner curve to the repulsive contraction -of his upper lip, which was never raised -but to express hostility or contempt.</p> - -<p>“But what do the kings do?” said Immalee, -“while they are making men kill -each other for nothing?”—“You are ignorant, -Immalee,” said the stranger, “very -ignorant, or you would not have said it -was for <em>nothing</em>. Some of them fight for -ten inches of barren sand—some for the -dominion of the salt wave—some for any -thing—and some for nothing—but all for -pay and poverty, and occasional excitement, -and the love of action, and the love of -change, and the dread of home, and the -consciousness of evil passions, and the -hope of death, and the admiration of the -showy dress in which they are to perish. -The best of the jest is, they contrive not -only to reconcile themselves to these cruel -and wicked absurdities, but to dignify -them with the most imposing names their -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_170" title="170"> </a> -perverted language supplies—the names of -fame, of glory, of recording memory, and -admiring posterity.</p> - -<p>“Thus a wretch whom want, idleness, -or intemperance, drives to this reckless and -heart-withering business,—who leaves his -wife and children to the mercy of strangers, -or to famish, (terms nearly synonimous), -the moment he has assumed the -blushing badge that privileges massacre, -becomes, in the imagination of this intoxicated -people, the defender of his country, -entitled to her gratitude and to her praise. -The idle stripling, who hates the cultivation -of intellect, and despises the meanness -of occupation, feels, perhaps, a taste for arraying -his person in colours as gaudy as -the parrot’s or the peacock’s; and this effeminate -propensity is baptised by the -prostituted name of the love of glory—and -this complication of motives borrowed from -vanity and from vice, from the fear of distress, -the wantonness of idleness, and the -appetite for mischief, finds one convenient -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_171" title="171"> </a> -and sheltering appellation in the single -sound—patriotism. And those beings who -never knew one generous impulse, one independent -feeling, ignorant of either the -principles or the justice of the cause for -which they contend, and wholly uninterested -in the result, except so far as it involves -the concerns of their own vanity, -cupidity, and avarice, are, while living, -hailed by the infatuated world as its benefactors, -and when dead, canonized as its -martyrs. He died in his country’s cause, -is the epitaph inscribed by the rash hand -of indiscriminating eulogy on the grave of -ten thousand, who had ten thousand different -motives for their choice and their -fate,—who might have lived to be their -country’s enemies if they had not <em>happened</em> -to fall in her defence,—and whose love of -their country, if fairly analysed, was, under -its various forms of vanity, restlessness, the -love of tumult, or the love of show—purely -love of themselves. There let them -rest—nothing but the wish to disabuse -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_172" title="172"> </a> -their idolaters, who prompt the sacrifice, -and then applaud the victim they have -made, could have tempted me to dwell -thus long on beings as mischievous in -their lives, as they are insignificant in their -death.</p> - -<p>“Another amusement of these people, -so ingenious in multiplying the sufferings -of their destiny, is what they call law. -They pretend to find in this a security for -their persons and their properties—with -how much justice, their own felicitous experience -must inform them! Of the security -it gives to the latter, judge, Immalee, -when I tell you, that you might spend -your life in their courts, without being -able to prove that those roses you have -gathered and twined in your hair were -your own—that you might starve for this -day’s meal, while proving your right to a -property which must incontestibly be -yours, on the condition of your being -able to fast on a few years, and survive to -enjoy it—and that, finally, with the sentiments -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_173" title="173"> </a> -of all upright men, the opinions of -the judges of the land, and the fullest conviction -of your own conscience in your favour, -you cannot obtain the possession of -what you and all feel to be your own, -while your antagonist can start an objection, -purchase a fraud, or invent a lie. So -pleadings go on, and years are wasted, and -property consumed, and hearts broken,—and -law triumphs. One of its most admirable -triumphs is in that ingenuity by -which it contrives to convert a difficulty -into an impossibility, and punish a man -for not doing what it has rendered impracticable -for him to do.</p> - -<p>“When he is unable to pay his debts, -it deprives him of liberty and credit, to insure -that inability still further; and while -destitute alike of the means of subsistence, -or the power of satisfying his creditors, he -is enabled, by this righteous arrangement, -to console himself, at least, with the reflection, -that he can injure his creditor as -much as he has suffered from him—that -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_174" title="174"> </a> -certain loss is the reward of immitigable -cruelty—and that, while he famishes in -prison, the page in which his debt is recorded -rots away faster than his body; and -the angel of death, with one obliterating -sweep of his wing, cancels misery and -debt, and presents, grinning in horrid triumph, -the release of debtor and debt, signed -by a hand that makes the judges tremble -on their seats.”—“But they have religion,” -said the poor Indian, trembling at -this horrible description; “they have that -religion which you shewed me—its mild -and peaceful spirit—its quietness and resignation—no -blood—no cruelty.”—“Yes,—true,” -said the stranger, with some reluctance, -“they have religion; for in their -zeal for suffering, they feel the torments -of one world not enough, unless aggravated -by the terrors of another. They have -such a religion, but what use have they -made of it? Intent on their settled purpose -of discovering misery wherever it -could be traced, and inventing it where it -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_175" title="175"> </a> -could not, they have found, even in the -pure pages of that book, which, they presume -to say, contains their title to peace -on earth, and happiness hereafter, a right -to hate, plunder, and murder each other. -Here they have been compelled to exercise -an extraordinary share of perverted ingenuity. -The book contains nothing but -what is good, and evil must be the minds, -and hard the labour of those evil minds, to -extort a tinge from it to colour their pretensions -withal. But mark, in pursuance -of their great object, (the aggravation of -general misery), mark how subtilly they -have wrought. They call themselves by -various names, to excite passions suitable -to the names they bear. Thus some forbid -the perusal of that book to their disciples, -and others assert, that from the exclusive -study of its pages alone, can the -hope of salvation be learned or substantiated. -It is singular, however, that with all -their ingenuity, they have never been able -to extract a subject of difference from the -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_176" title="176"> </a> -<em>essential</em> contents of that book, to which -they all appeal—so they proceed after their -manner.</p> - -<p>“They never dare to dispute that it -contains irresistible injunctions,<span style="white-space: nowrap;">——</span>that -those who believe in it should live in habits -of peace, benevolence, and harmony,—that -they should love each other in prosperity, -and assist each other in adversity. -They dare not deny that the spirit that -book inculcates and inspires, is a spirit -whose fruits are love, joy, peace, long-suffering, -mildness, and truth. On these -points they never presumed to differ.—They -are too plain to be denied, so they -contrive to make matter of difference out -of the various habits they wear; and they -cut each other’s throats for the love of God, -on the important subject<a name="FootnoteMarker_16" href="#Footnote_16" class="footnote-marker">(16)</a>, whether their -<ins title="iackets">jackets</ins> should be red or white—or whether -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_177" title="177"> </a> -their priests should be arrayed in silk ribbons<a name="FootnoteMarker_17" href="#Footnote_17" class="footnote-marker">(17)</a>, -or white linen<a name="FootnoteMarker_18" href="#Footnote_18" class="footnote-marker">(18)</a>, or black household -garments<a name="FootnoteMarker_19" href="#Footnote_19" class="footnote-marker">(19)</a>—or whether they should immerse -their children in water, or sprinkle -them with a few drops of it—or whether -they should partake of the memorials of -the death of him they all profess to love, -standing or on their knees—or<span style="white-space: nowrap;">——</span> But -I weary you with this display of human -wickedness and absurdity. One point is -plain, they all agree that the language of -the book is, “Love one another,” while -they all translate that language, “Hate one -another.” But as they can find neither -materials or excuse from that book, they -search for them in their own minds,—and -there they are never at a loss, for human -minds are inexhaustible in malignity and -hostility; and when they borrow the name -of that book to sanction them, the deification -of their passions becomes a duty, and -their worst impulses are hallowed and -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_178" title="178"> </a> -practised as virtues.”—“Are there no parents -or children in these horrible worlds?” -said Immalee, turning her tearful eyes on -this traducer of humanity; “none that -love each other as I loved the tree under -which I was first conscious of existence, or -the flowers that grew with me?”—“Parents?—children?” -said the stranger; “Oh -yes! There are fathers who instruct their -sons<span style="white-space: nowrap;">——</span>” And his voice was lost—he -struggled to recover it.</p> - -<p>“After a long pause, he said, “There -are some kind parents among those sophisticated -people.”—“And who are they?” -said Immalee, whose heart throbbed spontaneously -at the mention of kindliness.—“Those,” -said the stranger, with a withering -smile, “who murder their children at -the hour of their birth, or, by medical art, -dismiss them before they have seen the -light; and, in so doing, they give the only -credible evidence of parental affection.”</p> - -<p>“He ceased, and Immalee remained -silent in melancholy meditation on what -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_179" title="179"> </a> -she had heard. The acrid and searing -irony of his language had made no impression -on one with whom “speech was -truth,” and who could have no idea why a -circuitous mode of conveying meaning -could be adopted, when even a direct one -was often attended with difficulty to herself. -But she could understand, that he -had spoken much of evil and of suffering, -names unknown to her before she beheld -him, and she turned on him a glance that -seemed at once to thank and reproach him -for her painful initiation into the mysteries -of a new existence. She had, indeed, -tasted of the tree of knowledge, and -her eyes were opened, but its fruit was -bitter to her taste, and her looks conveyed -a kind of mild and melancholy gratitude, -that would have wrung the heart for giving -its first lesson of pain to the heart of a -being so beautiful, so gentle, and so innocent. -The stranger marked this blended -expression, and exulted.</p> - -<p>“He had distorted life thus to her imagination, -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_180" title="180"> </a> -perhaps with the purpose of terrifying -her from a nearer view of it; perhaps -in the wild hope of keeping her for -ever in this solitude, where he might -sometimes see her, and catch, from the -atmosphere of purity that surrounded -her, the only breeze that floated over -the burning desert of his own existence. -This hope was strengthened by the obvious -impression his discourse had made -on her. The sparkling intelligence,—the -breathless curiosity,—the vivid gratitude -of her former expression,—were all extinguished, -and her down cast and thoughtful -eyes were full of tears.</p> - -<p>“Has my conversation wearied you, -Immalee?” said he.—“It has grieved me, -yet I wish to listen still,” answered the -Indian. “I love to hear the murmur of -the stream, though the crocodile may be -beneath the waves.”—“Perhaps you wish -to encounter the people of this world, so -full of crime and misfortune.”—“I do, for -it is the world you came from, and when -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_181" title="181"> </a> -you return to it all will be happy but me.”—“And -is it, then, in my power to confer -happiness?” said her companion; “is -it for this purpose I wander among mankind?” -A mingled and indefinable expression -of derision, malevolence, and despair, -overspread his features, as he added, -“You do me too much honour, in devising -for me an occupation so mild and so -congenial to my spirit.”</p> - -<p>“Immalee, whose eyes were averted, did -not see this expression, and she replied, -“I know not, but you have taught me the -joy of grief; before I saw you I only smiled, -but since I saw you, I weep, and my -tears are delicious. Oh! they are far different -from those I shed for the setting -sun, or the faded rose! And yet I know -not—” And the poor Indian, oppressed by -emotions she could neither understand or -express, clasped her hands on her bosom, -as if to hide the secret of its new palpitations, -and, with the instinctive diffidence -of her purity, signified the change of her -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_182" title="182"> </a> -feelings, by retiring a few steps from her -companion, and casting on the earth eyes -which could contain their tears no longer. -The stranger appeared troubled,—an emotion -new to himself agitated him for a moment,—then -a smile of self-disdain curled -his lip, as if he reproached himself for the -indulgence of human feeling even for a moment. -Again his features relaxed, as he -turned to the bending and averted form of -Immalee, and he seemed like one conscious -of agony of soul himself, yet inclined to -sport with the agony of another’s. This -union of inward despair and outward levity -is not unnatural. Smiles are the legitimate -offspring of happiness, but laughter -is often the misbegotten child of madness, -that mocks its parent to her face. -With such an expression he turned towards -her, and asked, “But what is your -meaning, Immalee?”—A long pause followed -this question, and at length the Indian -answered, “I know not,” with that -natural and delicious art which teaches the -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_183" title="183"> </a> -sex to disclose their meaning in words that -seem to contradict it. “I know not,” -means, “I know too well.” Her companion -understood this, and enjoyed his -anticipated triumph. “And why do your -tears flow, Immalee?”—“I know not,” -said the poor Indian, and her tears flowed -faster at the question.</p> - -<p>“At these words, or rather at these -tears, the stranger forgot himself for a moment. -He felt that melancholy triumph -which the conqueror is unable to enjoy; -that triumph which announces a victory -over the weakness of others, obtained at -the expence of a greater weakness in ourselves. -A human feeling, in spite of him, -pervaded his whole soul, as he said, in accents -of involuntary softness, “What -would you have me do, Immalee?” The -difficulty of speaking a language that -might be at once intelligible and reserved,—that -might convey her wishes without -betraying her heart,—and the unknown -nature of her new emotions, made Immalee -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_184" title="184"> </a> -faulter long before she could answer, -“Stay with me,—return not to that -world of evil and sorrow.—Here the flowers -will always bloom, and the sun be as bright -as on the first day I beheld you.—Why -will you go back to the world to think -and to be unhappy?” The wild and discordant -laugh of her companion, startled -and silenced her. “Poor girl,” he exclaimed, -with that mixture of bitterness -and commiseration, that at once terrifies -and humiliates; “and is this the destiny -I am to fulfil?—to listen to the chirping -of birds, and watch the opening of buds? -Is this to be my lot?” and with another -wild burst of unnatural laughter, he flung -away the hand which Immalee had extended -to him as she had finished her simple -appeal.—“Yes, doubtless, I am well -fitted for such a fate, and such a partner. -Tell me,” he added, with still wilder fierceness, -“tell me from what line of my -features,—from what accent of my voice,—from -what sentiment of my discourse, -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_185" title="185"> </a> -have you extracted the foundation of a -hope that insults me with the view of felicity?” -Immalee, who might have replied, -“I understand a fury in your words, -but not your words,” had yet sufficient aid -from her maiden pride, and female penetration, -to discover that she was rejected -by the stranger; and a brief emotion of indignant -grief struggled with the tenderness -of her exposed and devoted heart. -She paused a moment, and then checking -her tears, said, in her firmest tones, “Go, -then, to your world,—since you wish to be -unhappy—go!—Alas! it is not necessary -to go there to be unhappy, for I must be -so here. Go,—but take with you these -roses, for they will all wither when you are -gone!—take with you these shells, for I -shall no longer love to wear them when you -no longer see them!” And as she spoke, -with simple, but emphatic action, she untwined -from her bosom and hair the shells -and flowers with which they were adorned, -and threw them at his feet; then turning -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_186" title="186"> </a> -to throw one glance of proud and melancholy -grief at him, she was retiring. -“Stay, Immalee,—stay, and hear me for -a moment,” said the stranger; and he -would, at that moment, have perhaps discovered -the ineffable and forbidden secret -of his destiny, but Immalee, in silence, -which her look of profound grief made -eloquent, shook sadly her averted head, -and departed.</p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 id="Chapter_XVIII">CHAPTER <ins title="XVII">XVIII</ins>.<a class="pagenum" name="Page_187" title="187"> </a></h2> - -<blockquote> -<p>Miseram me omnia terrent, et maris sonitus, et -scopuli, et solitudo, et sanctitudo Apollinis.</p> - -<p class="right small-caps">Latin Play.</p> -</blockquote> -</div> - -<p class="drop-cap"><span class="small-caps">“Many</span> days elapsed before the stranger -revisited the isle. How he was occupied, -or what feelings agitated him in the interval, -it would be beyond human conjecture -to discover. Perhaps he sometimes exulted -in the misery he had inflicted,—perhaps -he sometimes pitied it. His -stormy mind was like an ocean that had -swallowed a thousand wrecks of gallant -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_188" title="188"> </a> -ships, and now seemed to dally with the -loss of a little slender skiff, that could -hardly make way on its surface in the profoundest -calm. Impelled, however, by -malignity, or tenderness, or curiosity, or -weariness of artificial life, so vividly contrasted -by the unadulterated existence of -Immalee, into whose pure elements nothing -but flowers and fragrance, the sparkling -of the heavens, and the odours of earth, -had transfused their essence—or, possibly, -by a motive more powerful than all,—<em>his -own will</em>; which, never analysed, and -hardly ever confessed to be the ruling -principle of our actions, governs nine-tenths -of them.—He returned to the shore -of the haunted isle, the name by which it -was distinguished by those who knew not -how to classify the new goddess who was -supposed to inhabit it, and who were as -much puzzled by this new specimen in -their theology, as Linnæus himself could -have been by a non-descript in botany. -Alas! the varieties in moral botany far -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_189" title="189"> </a> -exceed the wildest anomalies of those in -the natural. However it was, the stranger -returned to the isle. But he had to traverse -many paths, where human foot but his -had never been, and to rend away branches -that seemed to tremble at a human touch, -and to cross streams into which no foot -but his had ever been dipped, before he -could discover where Immalee had concealed -herself.</p> - -<p>“Concealment, however, was not in her -thoughts. When he found her, she was -leaning against a rock; the ocean was -pouring its eternal murmur of waters at -her feet; she had chosen the most desolate -spot she could find;—there was neither -flower or shrub near her;—the calcined -rocks, the offspring of volcano—the restless -roar of the sea, whose waves almost -touched her small foot, that seemed by its -heedless protrusion at once to court and -neglect danger—these objects were all -that surrounded her. The first time he -had beheld her, she was embowered amid -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_190" title="190"> </a> -flowers and odours, amid all the glorious -luxuries of vegetable and animal nature; -the roses and the peacocks seemed emulous -which should expand their leaves or their -plumes, as a shade to that loveliness which -seemed to hover between them, alternately -borrowing the fragrance of the one, and -the hues of the other. Now she stood as -if deserted even by nature, whose child she -was; the rock was her resting-place, and -the ocean seemed the bed where she purposed -to rest; she had no shells on her -bosom, no roses in her hair—her character -seemed to have changed with her feelings; -she no longer loved all that is beautiful in -nature; she seemed, by an anticipation of -her destiny, to make alliance with all that -is awful and ominous. She had begun to -love the rocks and the ocean, the thunder -of the wave, and the sterility of the sand,—awful -objects, the incessant recurrence -of whose very sound seems intended to remind -us of grief and of eternity. Their -restless monotony of repetition, corresponds -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_191" title="191"> </a> -with the beatings of a heart which -asks its destiny from the phenomena of nature, -and feels the answer is—“Misery.”</p> - -<p>“Those who love may seek the luxuries -of the garden, and inhale added intoxication -from its perfumes, which seem the -offerings of nature on that altar which is -already erected and burning in the heart of -the worshipper;—but let those who <em>have</em> -loved seek the shores of the ocean, and -they shall have their answer too.</p> - -<p>“There was a sad and troubled air -about her, as she stood so lonely, that -seemed at once to express the conflict of -her internal emotions, and to reflect the -gloom and agitation of the physical objects -around her; for nature was preparing for -one of those awful convulsions—one of -those abortive throes of desolation, that -seems to announce a more perfect wrath -to come; and while it blasts the vegetation, -and burns up the soil of some visited -portion, seems to proclaim in the -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_192" title="192"> </a> -murmur of its receding thunders, that -it will return in that day, when the -universe shall pass away as a scroll, and -the elements melt with fervent heat, -and return to fulfil the dreadful promise, -which its partial and initiatory -devastation has left incomplete. Is there -a peal of thunder that does not mutter a -menace, “For <em>me</em>, the dissolution of the -world is reserved, I depart, but I shall -return?” Is there a flash of lightning -that does not say, <em>visibly</em>, if not audibly, -“Sinner, I cannot now penetrate the recesses -of your soul; but how will you encounter -my glare, when the hand of the -judge is armed with me, and my penetrating -glance displays you to the view of assembled -worlds?”</p> - -<p>“The evening was very dark; heavy -clouds, rolling on like the forces of an hostile -army, obscured the horizon from east -to west. There was a bright but ghastly -blue in the heaven above, like that in the -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_193" title="193"> </a> -eye of the dying, where the last forces of -life are collected, while its powers are rapidly -forsaking the frame, and feeling -their extinguishment must shortly be. -There was not a breath of air to heave the -ocean,—the trees drooped without a whisper -to woo their branches or their buds,—the -birds had retired, with that instinct -which teaches them to avoid the fearful -encounter of the elements, and nestled -with cowering wings and drooping heads -among their favourite trees. There was -not a human sound in the isle; the very -rivulet seemed to tremble at its own tinklings, -and its small waves flowed as if a -subterranean hand arrested and impeded -their motion. Nature, in these grand and -terrific operations, seems in some degree to -assimilate herself to a parent, whose most -fearful denunciations are preceded by an -awful silence, or rather to a judge, whose -final sentence is <em>felt</em> with less horror than -the pause that intervenes before it is pronounced.</p> - -<p><a class="pagenum" name="Page_194" title="194"> </a>“Immalee gazed on the awful scene by -which she was surrounded, without any -emotion derived from physical causes. To -her, light and darkness had hitherto been -the same; she loved the sun for its lustre, -and the lightning for its transitory brilliancy, -and the ocean for its sonorous music, -and the tempest for the agitation which it -gave to the trees, under whose bending -and welcoming shadow she danced, in time -kept by the murmur of their leaves, that -hung low, as if to crown their votarist. -And she loved the night, when all was -still, but what she was accustomed to call -the music of a thousand streams, that -made the stars rise from their beds, to -sparkle and nod to that wild melody.</p> - -<p>“Such she had been. Now, her eye -was intently fixed on the declining light, -and the approaching darkness,—that preternatural -gloom, that seems to say to the -brightest and most beautiful of the works -of God, “Give place to me, thou shalt -shine no more.”</p> - -<p><a class="pagenum" name="Page_195" title="195"> </a>“The darkness increased, and the clouds -collected like an army that had mustered -its utmost force, and stood in obdured and -collected strength against the struggling -light of heaven. A broad, red, and dusky -line of gloomy light, gathered round -the horizon, like an usurper watching -the throne of an abdicated sovereign, -and expanding its portentous circle, sent -forth alternately flashes of lightning, pale -and red;—the murmur of the sea increased, -and the arcades of the banyan-tree, that -had struck its patriarchal root not five -hundred paces from where Immalee stood, -resounded the deep and almost unearthly -murmur of the approaching storm through -all its colonnades; the primeval trunk -rocked and groaned, and the everlasting -fibres seemed to withdraw their grasp from -the earth, and quiver in air at the sound. -Nature, with every voice she could inspire -from earth, or air, or water, announced -danger to her children.</p> - -<p>“That was the moment the stranger -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_196" title="196"> </a> -chose to approach Immalee; of danger he -was insensible, of fear he was unconscious; -his miserable destiny had exempted him -from both, but what had it left him? No -hope—but that of plunging others into his -own condemnation. No fear—but that -his victim might escape him. Yet with -all his diabolical heartlessness, he <em>did</em> feel -some relentings of his human nature, as -he beheld the young Indian; her cheek -was pale, but her eye was fixed, and her -figure, turned from him, (as if she preferred -to encounter the tremendous rage of the -storm), seemed to him to say, “Let me -fall into the hands of God, and not into -those of man.”</p> - -<p>“This attitude, so unintentionally assumed -by Immalee, and so little expressive -of her real feelings, restored all the malignant -energies of the stranger’s feelings; -the former evil purposes of his heart, and -the habitual character of his dark and -fiendish pursuit, rushed back on him. -Amid this contrasted scene of the convulsive -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_197" title="197"> </a> -rage of nature, and the passive helplessness -of her unsheltered loveliness, he -felt a glow of excitement, like that which -pervaded him, when the fearful powers of -his “charmed life” enabled him to penetrate -the cells of a madhouse, or the dungeons -of an Inquisition.</p> - -<p>“He saw this pure being surrounded -by the terrors of nature, and felt a wild and -terrible conviction, that though the lightning -might blast her in a moment, yet -there was a bolt more burning and more -fatal, which was wielded by his own hand, -and which, if he could aim it aright, must -transfix her very soul.</p> - -<p>“Armed with all his malignity and all -his power, he approached Immalee, armed -only with her purity, and standing like the -reflected beam of the last ray of light -on whose extinction she was gazing. -There was a contrast in her form and her -situation, that might have touched any -feelings but those of the wanderer.</p> - -<p>“The light of her figure shining out amid -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_198" title="198"> </a> -the darkness that enveloped her,—its -undulating softness rendered still softer -to the eye by the rock against which it -reclined,—its softness, brightness, and flexibility, -presenting a kind of playful hostility -to the tremendous aspect of nature -overcharged with wrath and ruin.</p> - -<p>“The stranger approached her unobserved; -his steps were unheard amid the -rush of the ocean, and the deep, portentous -murmur of the elements; but, as he advanced, -he heard sounds that perhaps operated -on his feelings as the whispers of Eve -to her flowers on the organs of the serpent. -Both knew their power, and felt their time. -Amid the fast approaching terrors of a -storm, more terrible than any she had ever -witnessed, the poor Indian, unconscious, -or perhaps insensible of its dangers, was -singing her wild song of desperation and -love to the echoes of the advancing storm. -Some words of this strain of despair and -passion reached the ear of the stranger. -They were thus:</p> - -<p><a class="pagenum" name="Page_199" title="199"> </a>“The night is growing dark—but what -is that to the darkness that his absence has -cast on my soul? The lightnings are -glancing round me—but what are they to -the gleam of his eye when he parted from -me in anger?</p> - -<p>“I lived but in the light of his presence—why -should I not die when that light is -withdrawn? Anger of the clouds, what -have I to fear from you? You may scorch -me to dust, as I have seen you scorch the -branches of the eternal trees—but the trunk -still remained, and my heart will be his -for ever.</p> - -<p>“Roar on, terrible ocean! thy waves, -which I cannot count, can never wash his -image from my soul,—thou dashest a thousand -waves against a rock, but the rock is -unmoved—and so would be my heart amid -the calamities of the world with which -he threatens me,—whose dangers I never -would have known but for him, and whose -dangers for him I will encounter.”</p> - -<p>“She paused in her wild song, and then -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_200" title="200"> </a> -renewed it, regardless alike of the terrors -of the elements, and the possible presence -of one whose subtle and poisonous potency -was more fatal than all the elements -in their united wrath.</p> - -<p>“When we first met, my bosom was -covered with roses—now it is shaded with -the dark leaves of the ocynum. When he -saw me first, the living things all loved -me—now I care not whether they love -me or not—I have forgot to love them. -When he came to the isle every night, I -hoped the moon would be bright—now I -care not whether she rises or sets, whether -she is clouded or bright. Before he came, -every thing loved me, and I had more -things to love than I could reckon by the -hairs of my head—now I feel I can love -but one, and that one has deserted me. -Since I have seen him all things have -changed. The flowers have not the colours -they once had—there is no music -in the flow of the waters—the stars do not -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_201" title="201"> </a> -smile on me from heaven as they did,—and -I myself begin to love the storm better -than the calm.”</p> - -<p>“As she ended her melancholy strain, -she turned from the spot where the increasing -fury of the storm made it no -longer possible for her to stand, and turning, -met the gaze of the stranger fixed on -her. A suffusion, the most rich and vivid, -mantled over her from brow to bosom; -she did not utter her usual exclamation of -joy at his sight, but, with averted eyes -and faultering step, followed him as he -pointed her to seek shelter amid the ruins -of the pagoda. They approached it in silence; -and, amid the convulsions and fury -of nature, it was singular to see two beings -walk on together without exchanging a -word of apprehension, or feeling a thought -of danger,—the one armed by despair, the -other by innocence. Immalee would rather -have sought the shelter of her favourite -banyan-tree, but the stranger tried -to make her comprehend, that her danger -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_202" title="202"> </a> -would be much greater there than in the -spot he pointed out to her. “Danger!” -said the Indian, while a bright and wild -smile irradiated her features; “can there -be danger when you are near me?”—“Is -there, then, no danger in my presence?—few -have met me without dreading, and -without feeling it too!” and his countenance, -as he spoke, grew darker than the -heaven at which he scowled. “Immalee,” -he added, in a voice still deeper and more -thrilling, from the unwonted operation of -human emotion in its tones; “Immalee, -you cannot be weak enough to believe -that I have power of controuling the elements? -If I had,” he continued, “by the -heaven that is frowning at me, the first -exertion of my power should be to collect -the most swift and deadly of the lightnings -that are hissing around us, and transfix -you where you stand!”—“Me?” repeated -the trembling Indian, her cheek growing -paler at his words, and the voice in which -they were uttered, than at the redoubling -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_203" title="203"> </a> -fury of the storm, amid whose pauses she -scarce heard them.—“Yes—you—you—lovely -as you are, and innocent, and pure, -before a fire more deadly consumes your -existence, and drinks your heart-blood—before -you are longer exposed to a danger -a thousand times more fatal than those -with which the elements menace you—the -danger of my accursed and miserable presence!”</p> - -<p>“Immalee, unconscious of his meaning, -but trembling with impassioned grief at -the agitation with which he spoke, approached -him to soothe the emotion of -which she knew neither the name or the -cause. Through the fractures of the ruin -the red and ragged lightnings disclosed, -from time to time, a glimpse of her figure,—her -dishevelled hair,—her pallid and appealing -look,—her locked hands, and the -imploring bend of her slight form, as if -she was asking pardon for a crime of which -she was unconscious,—and soliciting an interest -in griefs not her own. All around -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_204" title="204"> </a> -her wild, unearthly, and terrible,—the floor -strewed with fragments of stone, and -mounds of sand,—the vast masses of ruined -architecture, whose formation seemed the -work of no human hand, and whose destruction -appeared the sport of demons,—the -yawning fissures of the arched and ponderous -roof, through which heaven darkened -and blazed alternately with a gloom that -wrapt every thing, or a light more fearful -than that gloom.—All around her -gave to her form, when <ins title="it it">it</ins> was momently -visible, a relief so strong and so touching, -that it might have immortalized the hand -who had sketched her as the embodied presence -of an angel who had descended to -the regions of woe and wrath,—of darkness -and of fire, on a message of reconciliation,—and -descended in vain.</p> - -<p>“The stranger threw on her, as she -bent before him, one of those looks that, -but her own, no mortal eye had yet -encountered unappalled. Its expression -seemed only to inspire a higher feeling of -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_205" title="205"> </a> -devotedness in the victim. Perhaps an -involuntary sentiment of terror mingled -itself with that expression, as this beautiful -being sunk on her knees before her -writhing and distracted enemy; and, by -the silent supplication of her attitude, -seemed to implore him to have mercy on -himself. As the lightnings flashed around -her,—as the earth trembled beneath her -white and slender feet,—as the elements -seemed all sworn to the destruction of -every living thing, and marched on from -heaven to the accomplishment of their purpose, -with <i lang="la" xml:lang="la">Væ victis</i> written and legible to -every eye, in the broad unfolded banners of -that resplendent and sulphurous light that -seemed to display the <em>day of hell</em>—the feelings -of the devoted Indian seemed concentrated -on the ill-chosen object of their idolatry -alone. Her graduating attitudes -beautifully, but painfully, expressed the -submission of a female heart devoted to its -object, to his frailties, his passions, and his -very crimes. When subdued by the image -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_206" title="206"> </a> -of power, which the mind of man exercises -over that of woman, that impulse becomes -irresistibly humiliating. Immalee had at -first bowed to conciliate her beloved, and -her spirit had taught her frame that first -inclination. In her next stage of suffering, -she had sunk on her knees, and, -remaining at a distance from him, she -had trusted to this state of prostration -to produce that effect on his heart which -those who love always hope <em>compassion</em> -may produce,—that illegitimate child of -love, often more cherished than its parent. -In her last efforts she clung to -his hand—she pressed her pale lips to it, -and was about to utter a few words—her -voice failed her, but her fast dropping -tears <em>spoke</em> to the hand which she held,—and -its grasp, which for a moment convulsively -returned hers, and then flung it -away, answered her.</p> - -<p>“The Indian remained prostrate and aghast. -“Immalee,” said the stranger, in -a struggling voice, “Do you wish me to -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_207" title="207"> </a> -tell you the feelings with which my presence -should inspire you?”—“No—no—no!” -said the Indian, applying her white -and delicate hands to her ears, and then -clasping them on her bosom; “I feel them -too much.”—“Hate me—curse me!” said -the stranger, not heeding her, and stamping -till the reverberation of his steps on -the hollow and loosened stones almost contended -with the thunder; “hate me, for -I hate you—I hate all things that live—all -things that are dead—I am myself -hated and hateful!”—“Not by me,” said -the poor Indian, feeling, through the -blindness of her tears, for his averted -hand. “Yes, by you, if you knew whose -I am, and whom I serve.” Immalee aroused -her newly-excited energies of heart -and intellect to answer this appeal. “Who -you are, I know not—but I am yours.—Whom -you serve, I know not—but him -will <em>I</em> serve—I will be yours for ever. -Forsake me if you will, but when I am -dead, come back to this isle, and say to -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_208" title="208"> </a> -yourself, The roses have bloomed and -faded—the streams have flowed and been -dried up—the rocks have been removed -from their places—and the lights of heaven -have altered in their courses,—but there -was one who never changed, and she is not -here!”</p> - -<p>“As she spoke the enthusiasm of passion -struggling with grief, she added, -“You have told me you possess the happy -art of writing thought.—Do not write -one thought on my grave, for one word -traced by your hand would revive me. -Do not weep, for one tear would make -me live again, perhaps to draw a tear from -you.”—“Immalee!” said the stranger. The -Indian looked up, and, with a mingled -feeling of grief, amazement, and compunction, -beheld him shed tears. The next -moment he dashed them away with the -hand of despair; and, grinding his teeth, -burst into that wild shriek of bitter and -convulsive laughter that announces the -object of its derision is ourselves.</p> - -<p><a class="pagenum" name="Page_209" title="209"> </a>“Immalee, whose feelings were almost -exhausted, trembled in silence at his feet. -“Hear me, wretched girl!” he cried in -tones that seemed alternately tremulous -with malignity and compassion, with habitual -hostility and involuntary softness; -“hear me! I know the secret sentiment -you struggle with better than the innocent -heart of which it is the inmate knows -it. Suppress, banish, destroy it. Crush -it as you would a young reptile before its -growth had made it loathsome to the eye, -and poisonous to existence!”—“I never -crushed even a reptile in my life,” answered -Immalee, unconscious that this matter-of-fact -answer was equally applicable in -another sense. “You love, then,” said -the stranger; “but,” after a long and ominous -pause, “do you know whom it is -you love?”—“You!” said the Indian, with -that purity of truth that consecrates the -impulse it yields to, and would blush more -for the sophistications of art than the confidence -of nature; “you! You have taught -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_210" title="210"> </a> -me to think, to feel, and to weep.”—“And -you love me for this?” said her companion, -with an expression half irony, half commiseration. -“Think, Immalee, for a moment, -how unsuitable, how unworthy, is the object -of the feelings you lavish on him. A -being unattractive in his form, repulsive -in his habits, separated from life and humanity -by a gulph impassable; a disinherited -child of nature, who goes about to -curse or to tempt his more prosperous brethren; -one who<span style="white-space: nowrap;">——</span>what withholds me -from disclosing all?”</p> - -<p>“At this moment a flash of such vivid -and terrific brightness as no human sight -could sustain, gleamed through the ruins, -pouring through every fissure instant and -intolerable light. Immalee, overcome by -terror and emotion, remained on her -knees, her hands closely clasped over her -aching eyes.</p> - -<p>“For a few moments that she remained -thus, she thought she heard other -sounds near her, and that the stranger was -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_211" title="211"> </a> -answering a voice that spoke to him. She -heard him say, as the thunder rolled to a -distance, “This hour is mine, not thine—begone, -and trouble me not.” When she -looked up again, all trace of human emotion -was gone from his expression. The -dry and burning eye of despair that he -fixed on her, seemed never to have owned -a tear; the hand with which he grasped -her, seemed never to have felt the flow of -blood, or the throb of a pulse; amid the -intense and increasing heat of an atmosphere -that appeared on fire, its touch was -as cold as that of the dead.</p> - -<p>“Mercy!” cried the trembling Indian, -as she in vain endeavoured to read a human -feeling in those eyes of stone, to -which her own tearful and appealing ones -were uplifted—“mercy!” And while she -uttered the word, she knew not what she -deprecated or dreaded.</p> - -<p>“The stranger answered not a word, -relaxed not a muscle; it seemed as if he -felt her not with the hands that grasped -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_212" title="212"> </a> -her,—as if he saw her not with the eyes -that glared fixedly and coldly on her. He -bore, or rather dragged, her to the vast -arch that had once been the entrance to -the pagoda, but which, now shattered and -ruinous, resembled more the gulphing -yawn of a cavern that harbours the inmates -of the desert, than a work wrought -by the hands of man, and devoted to the -worship of a deity. “You have called for -mercy,” said her companion, in a voice -that froze her blood even under the burning -atmosphere, whose air she could scarce -respire. “You have cried for mercy, and -mercy you shall have. Mercy has not -been dealt to me, but I have courted my -horrible destiny, and my reward is just -and sure. Look forth, trembler—look -forth,—I command thee!” And he stamped -with an air of authority and impatience -that completed the terror of the delicate -and impassioned being who shuddered in -his grasp, and felt half-dead at his frown.</p> - -<p>“In obedience to his command, she removed -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_213" title="213"> </a> -the long tresses of her auburn hair, -which had vainly swept, in luxuriant and -fruitless redundance, the rock on which -the steps of him she adored had been fixed. -With that mixture of the docility of -the child, and the mild submission of woman, -she attempted to comply with his -demand, but her eyes, filled with tears, -could not encounter the withering horrors -of the scene before her. She wiped those -brilliant eyes with hairs that were every -day bathed in the pure and crystal lymph, -and seemed, as she tried to gaze on the desolation, -like some bright and shivering -spirit, who, for its further purification, or -perhaps for the enlargement of the knowledge -necessary for its destination, is compelled -to witness some evidence of the Almighty’s -wrath, unintelligible in its first -operations, but doubtless salutary in its final -results.</p> - -<p>“Thus looking and thus feeling, Immalee -shudderingly approached the entrance -of that building, which, blending -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_214" title="214"> </a> -the ruins of nature with those of art, seemed -to announce the power of desolation -over both, and to intimate that the primeval -rock, untouched and unmodulated by -human hands, and thrown upwards perhaps -by some volcanic eruption, perhaps -deposited there by some meteoric discharge, -and the gigantic columns of stone, whose -erection had been the work of two centuries,—were -alike dust beneath the feet of -that tremendous conqueror, whose victories -alone are without noise and without -resistance, and the progress of whose -triumph is marked by tears instead of -blood.</p> - -<p>“Immalee, as she gazed around her, -felt, for the first time, terror at the aspect -of nature. Formerly, she had -considered all its phenomena as equally -splendid or terrific. And her childish, -though active imagination, seemed to consecrate -alike the sun-light and the storm, -to the devotion of a heart, on whose pure -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_215" title="215"> </a> -altar the flowers and the fires of nature -flung their undivided offering.</p> - -<p>“But since she had seen the stranger, -new emotions had pervaded her young -heart. She learned to weep and to fear; -and perhaps she saw, in the fearful aspect -of the heavens, the developement of that -mysterious terror, which always trembles -at the bottom of the hearts of those who -dare to love.</p> - -<p>“How often does nature thus become -an involuntary interpreter between us and -our feelings! Is the murmur of the ocean -without a meaning?—Is the roll of the -thunder without a voice?—Is the blasted -spot on which the rage of both has been -exhausted without its lesson?—Do not -they all tell us some mysterious secret, -which we have in vain searched our hearts -for?—Do we not find in them, an answer -to those questions with which we are for -ever importuning the mute oracle of our -destiny?—Alas! how deceitful and inadequate -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_216" title="216"> </a> -we feel the language of man, after -love and grief have made us acquainted -with that of nature!—the only one, perhaps, -capable of a corresponding sign for those -emotions, under which all human expression -faints. What a difference between -<em>words without meaning</em>, and that <em>meaning -without words</em>, which the sublime phenomena -of nature, the rocks and the ocean, -the moon and the twilight, convey to those -who have “ears to hear.”</p> - -<p>“How eloquent of truth is nature in her -very silence! How fertile of reflections -amid her profoundest desolations! But -the desolation now presented to the eyes of -Immalee, was that which is calculated to -cause terror, not reflection. Earth and -heaven, the sea and the dry land, seemed -mingling together, and about to replunge -into chaos. The ocean, deserting its eternal -bed, dashed its waves, whose white -surf gleamed through the darkness, far -into the shores of the isle. They came on -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_217" title="217"> </a> -like the crests of a thousand warriors, -plumed and tossing in their pride, and, -like them, perishing in the moment of -victory. There was a fearful inversion of -the natural appearance of earth and sea, as -if all the barriers of nature were broken, -and all her laws reversed.</p> - -<p><ins title="The">“The</ins> waves deserting their station, left, -from time to time, the sands as dry as -those of the desert; and the trees and -shrubs tossed and heaved in ceaseless agitation, -like the waves of a midnight storm. -There was no light, but a livid grey that -sickened the eye to behold, except when -the bright red lightning burst out like the -eye of a fiend, glancing over the work of -ruin, and closing as it beheld it completed.</p> - -<p>“Amid this scene stood two beings, -one whose appealing loveliness seemed to -have found favour with the elements even -in their wrath, and one whose fearless -and obdurate eye appeared to defy them. -“Immalee,” he cried, “is this a place or -an hour to talk of love!—all nature is appalled—heaven -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_218" title="218"> </a> -is dark—the animals have -hid themselves—and the very shrubs, as -they wave and shrink, seem alive with -terror.”—“It is an hour to implore protection,” -said the Indian, clinging to him -timidly. “Look up,” said the stranger, -while his own fixed and fearless eye seemed -to return flash for flash to the baffled -and insulted elements; “Look up, and -if you cannot resist the impulses of your -heart, let me at least point out a fitter object -for them. Love,” he cried, extending -his arm towards the dim and troubled -sky, “love the storm in its might of destruction—seek -alliance with those swift -and perilous travellers of the groaning -air,—the meteor that rends, and the -thunder that shakes it! Court, for sheltering -tenderness, those masses of dense -and rolling cloud,—the baseless mountains -of heaven! Woo the kisses of the -fiery lightnings, to quench themselves on -your smouldering bosom! Seek all that -is terrible in nature for your companions -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_219" title="219"> </a> -and your lover!—woo them to burn and -blast you—perish in their fierce embrace, -and you will be happier, far happier, than -if you lived in mine! <em>Lived!</em>—Oh who -can be mine and live! Hear me, Immalee!” -he cried, while he held her hands -locked in his—while his eyes, rivetted on -her, sent forth a light of intolerable lustre—while -a new feeling of indefinite enthusiasm -seemed for a moment to thrill his -whole frame, and new-modulate the tone -of his nature; “Hear me! If you will be -mine, it must be amid a scene like this for -ever—amid fire and darkness—amid hatred -and despair—amid<span style="white-space: nowrap;">——</span>” and his voice -swelling to a demoniac shriek of rage and -horror, and his arms extended, as if to -grapple with the fearful objects of some imaginary -struggle, he was rushing from the -arch under which they stood, lost in the -picture which his guilt and despair had -drawn, and whose images he was for ever -doomed to behold.</p> - -<p>“The slender form that had clung to -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_220" title="220"> </a> -him was, by this sudden movement, prostrated -at his feet; and, with a voice choaked -with terror, yet with that perfect devotedness -which never issued but from -the heart and lip of woman, she answered -his frightful questions with the simple demand, -“<em>Will you be there?</em>”—“Yes!—<span class="small-caps all-upper">THERE</span> -I must be, and for ever! And <em>will</em> -you, and <em>dare</em> you, be with me?” And a -kind of wild and terrible energy nerved -his frame, and strengthened his voice, as he -spoke and cowered over pale and prostrate -loveliness, that seemed in profound and -reckless humiliation to court its own destruction, -as if a dove exposed its breast, -without flight or struggle, to the beak of a -vulture. “Well, then,” said the stranger, -while a brief convulsion crossed his pale -visage, “amid thunder I wed thee—bride -of perdition! mine shalt thou be for ever! -Come, and let us attest our nuptials before -the reeling altar of nature, with the -lightnings of heaven for our bed-lights, -and the curse of nature for our marriage-benediction!” -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_221" title="221"> </a> -The Indian shrieked in -terror, not at his words, which she did not -understand, but at the expression which -accompanied them. “Come,” he repeated, -“while the darkness yet is witness to -our ineffable and eternal union.” Immalee, -pale, terrified, but resolute, retreated -from <ins title="him.”">him.</ins></p> - -<p>“At this moment the storm, which had -obscured the heavens and ravaged the -earth, passed away with the rapidity common -in those climates, where the visitation -of an hour does its work of destruction -unimpeded, and is instantly succeeded -by the smiling lights and brilliant skies -of which mortal curiosity in vain asks the -question, Whether they gleam in triumph -or in consolation over the mischief they -witness?</p> - -<p>“As the stranger spoke, the clouds -passed away, carrying their diminished -burden of wrath and terror where sufferings -were to be inflicted, and terrors to -be undergone, by the natives of other -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_222" title="222"> </a> -climes—and the bright moon burst forth -with a glory unknown in European -climes. The heavens were as blue as -the waves of the ocean, which they seemed -to reflect; and the stars burst forth -with a kind of indignant and aggravated -brilliancy, as if they resented the -usurpation of the storm, and asserted the -eternal predominance of nature over the -casual influences of the storms that obscured -her. Such, perhaps, will be the -developement of the moral world. We -shall be told why we suffered, and for -what; but a bright and blessed lustre -shall follow the storm, and all shall yet be -light.</p> - -<p>“The young Indian caught from this -object an omen alike auspicious to her -imagination and her heart. She burst -from him—she rushed into the light of nature, -whose glory seemed like the promise -of redemption, gleaming amid the darkness -of the fall. She pointed to the moon, -that sun of the eastern nights, whose broad -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_223" title="223"> </a> -and brilliant light fell like a mantle of -glory over rock and ruin, over tree and -flower.</p> - -<p>“Wed me by this light,” cried Immalee, -“and I will be yours for ever!” And -her beautiful countenance reflected the -full light of the glorious planet that rode -bright through the cloudless heaven—and -her white and naked arms, extended towards -it, seemed like two pure attesting -pledges of the union. “Wed me by this -light,” she repeated, sinking on her knees, -“and I will be yours for ever!”</p> - -<p>“As she spoke, the stranger approached, -moved with what feelings no mortal -thought can discover. At that moment -a trifling phenomenon interfered to -alter her destiny. A darkened cloud at -that moment covered the moon—it seemed -as if the departed storm collected in -wrathful haste the last dark fold of its -tremendous drapery, and was about to -pass away for ever.</p> - -<p>“The eyes of the stranger flashed on -Immalee the brightest rays of mingled -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_224" title="224"> </a> -fondness and ferocity. He pointed to the -darkness,—“<span class="small-caps">Wed me by this light!</span>” -he exclaimed, “<em>and you shall be mine for -ever and ever!</em>” Immalee, shuddering at -the grasp in which he held her, and trying -in vain to watch the expression of his -countenance, yet felt enough of her danger -to tear herself from him. “Farewell -for ever!” exclaimed the stranger, as he -rushed from her.</p> - -<p>“Immalee, exhausted by emotion and -terror, had fallen senseless on the sands -that filled the path to the ruined pagoda. -He returned—he raised her in his arms—her -long dark hair streamed over them -like the drooping banners of a defeated -army—her arms sunk down as if declining -the support they seemed to implore—her -cold and colourless cheek rested on his -shoulder.</p> - -<p>“Is she dead?” he murmured. “Well, -be it so—let her perish—let her be any -thing <em>but mine</em>!” He flung his senseless -burden on the sands, and departed—nor -did he ever revisit the island.</p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 id="Chapter_XIX">CHAPTER <ins title="XVII">XIX</ins>.<a class="pagenum" name="Page_225" title="225"> </a></h2> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry" lang="fr" xml:lang="fr"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="line">Que donne le monde aux siens plus souvent,<br /></div> -<div class="line indent32">Echo <i>Vent</i>.<br /></div> -<div class="line">Que dois-je vaincre ici, sans jamais relacher,<br /></div> -<div class="line indent32">Echo <i>la chair</i>.<br /></div> -<div class="line">Qui fit le cause des maux, qui me sont survenus,<br /></div> -<div class="line indent32">Echo <i>Venus</i>.<br /></div> -<div class="line">Que faut dire après d’une telle infidelle,<br /></div> -<div class="line indent32">Echo <i>Fi d’elle</i>.<br /></div> -<div class="line right italic"><span class="small-caps">Magdaleniade</span>, by Father Pierre de St Louis.<br /></div> -</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="drop-cap"><span class="small-caps">“Three</span> years had elapsed since the parting -of Immalee and the stranger, when -one evening the attention of some Spanish -gentlemen, who were walking in a public -place in Madrid, was arrested by a figure -that passed them, habited in the dress of -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_226" title="226"> </a> -the country, (only without a sword), and -walking very slowly. They stopt by a -kind of simultaneous movement, and seemed -to ask each other, with silent looks, -what had been the cause of the impression -this person’s appearance had made on them. -There was nothing remarkable in his figure,—his -demeanour was quiet; it was -the singular expression of his countenance -which had struck them with a sensation -they could neither define or account for.</p> - -<p>“As they paused, the person returned -alone, and walking slowly—and they again -encountered that singular expression of -the features, (the eyes particularly), which -no human glance could meet unappalled. -Accustomed to look on and converse with -all things revolting to nature and to man,—for -ever exploring the mad-house, the -jail, or the Inquisition,—the den of famine, -the dungeon of crime, or the death-bed of -despair,—his eyes had acquired a light and -a language of their own—a light that none -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_227" title="227"> </a> -could gaze on, and a language that few -dare understand.</p> - -<p>“As he passed slowly by them, they -observed two others whose attention was -apparently fixed on the same singular object, -for they stood pointing after him, -and speaking to each other with gestures -of strong and obvious emotion. The curiosity -of the groupe for once overcame -the restraint of Spanish reserve, and approaching -the two cavaliers, they inquired -if the singular personage who had passed -was not the subject of their conversation, -and the cause of the emotion which appeared -to accompany it. The others replied -in the affirmative, and hinted at their -knowledge of circumstances in the character -and history of that extraordinary being -that might justify even stronger marks of -emotion at his presence. This hint operated -still more strongly on their curiosity—the -circle of listeners began to deepen. -Some of them, it appeared, had, or pretended -to have, some information relative -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_228" title="228"> </a> -to this extraordinary subject. And that -kind of desultory conversation commenced, -whose principal ingredients are a plentiful -proportion of ignorance, curiosity, and -fear, mingled with some small allowance -of information and truth;—that conversation, -vague, unsatisfactory, but not uninteresting, -to which every speaker is welcome -to contribute his share of baseless report,—wild -conjecture,—anecdote the more incredible -the better credited,—and conclusion -the more falsely drawn the more likely to -carry home conviction.</p> - -<p>“The conversation passed very much -in language incoherent as this:—“But -why, if he be what he is described, what -he is known to be,—why is he not seized -by order of government?—why is he not -immured in the Inquisition?”—“He has -been often in the prison of the holy office—oftener, -perhaps, than the holy fathers -wished,” said another. “But it is a well-known -fact, that whatever transpired on -his examination, he was liberated almost -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_229" title="229"> </a> -immediately.” Another added, “That the -stranger had been in almost every prison -in Europe, but had always contrived either -to defeat or defy the power in whose grasp -he appeared to be inclosed,—and to be active -in his purposes of mischief in the remotest -parts of Europe at the moment he was -supposed to be expiating them in others.” -Another demanded, “If it was known to -what country he belonged?” and was answered, -“He is said to be a native of Ireland—(a -country that no one knows, and -which the natives are particularly reluctant -to dwell in from various causes)—and -his name is Melmoth.” The Spaniard -had great difficulty in expressing the -<em>theta</em>, unpronounceable by continental lips. -“Another, who had an appearance of more -intelligence than the rest, added the extraordinary -fact of the stranger’s being -seen in various and distant parts of the -earth within a time in which no power -merely human could be supposed to traverse -them—that his marked and fearful -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_230" title="230"> </a> -habit was every where to seek out the -most wretched, or the most profligate, of -the community among which he flung -himself—what was his object in seeking -them was unknown.”—“It is well known,” -said a deep-toned voice, falling on the ears -of the startled listeners like the toll of a -strong but muffled bell,—“it is well known -both to him and them.”</p> - -<p>“It was now twilight, but the eyes of -all could distinguish the figure of the -stranger as he passed; and some even averred -they could see the ominous lustre -of those eyes which never rose on human -destiny but as planets of woe. The groupe -paused for some time to watch the retreat -of the figure that had produced on them -the effect of the torpedo. It departed -slowly,—no one offered it molestation.</p> - -<p>“I have heard,” said one of the company, -“that a delicious music precedes -the approach of this person when his destined -victim,—the being whom he is permitted -to tempt or to torture,—is about to -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_231" title="231"> </a> -appear or to approach him. I have heard -a strange tale of such music being heard; -and—Holy Mary be our guide! did you -ever hear such sounds?”—“Where—what?—” -and the astonished listeners took -off their hats, unclasped their mantles, -“opened their lips, and drew in their -breath,” in delicious ecstasy at the sounds -that floated round them. “No wonder,” -said a young gallant of the party, “no -wonder that such sounds harbinger the -approach of a being so heavenly. She -deals with the good spirits; and the blessed -saints alone could send such music -from above to welcome <ins title="her.">her.”</ins> As he spoke, -all eyes were turned to a figure, which, -though moving among a groupe of brilliant -and attractive females, appeared the only -one among them on whom the eye could -rest with pure and undivided light and -love. She did not catch observation—observation -caught her, and was proud of -its prize.</p> - -<p><ins title="At">“At</ins> the approach of a large party of females, -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_232" title="232"> </a> -there was all that anxious and flattering -preparation among the cavaliers,—all -that eager arrangement of capas, and -hats, and plumes,—that characterized the -manners of a nation still half-feudal, and -always gallant and chivalrous. These preliminary -movements were answered by -corresponding ones on the part of the fair -and fatal host approaching. The creaking -of their large fans—the tremulous and -purposely-delayed adjustment of their floating -veils, whose partial concealment flattered -the imagination beyond the most -full and ostentatious disclosure of the -charms they seemed jealous of—the folds -of the mantilla, of whose graceful falls, -and complicated manœuvres, and coquettish -undulations, the Spanish women -know how to avail themselves so well—all -these announced an attack, which the -cavaliers, according to the modes of gallantry -in that day (1683), were well prepared -to meet and parry.</p> - -<p>“But, amid the bright host that advanced -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_233" title="233"> </a> -against them, there was one whose -arms were not artificial, and the effect of -whose singular and simple attractions -made a strong contrast to the studied arrangements -of her associates. If her fan -moved, it was only to collect air—if she -arranged her veil, it was only to hide her -face—if she adjusted her mantilla, it was -but to hide that form, whose exquisite -symmetry defied the voluminous drapery -of even that day to conceal it. Men of -the loosest gallantry fell back as she approached, -with involuntary awe—the libertine -who looked on her was half-converted—the -susceptible beheld her as one -who realized that vision of imagination -that must never be embodied here—and -the unfortunate as one whose sight alone -was consolation—the old, as they gazed on -her, dreamt of their youth—and the young -for the first time dreamt of love—the only -love which deserves the name—that which -purity alone can inspire, and perfect purity -alone can reward.</p> - -<p><a class="pagenum" name="Page_234" title="234"> </a>“As she mingled among the gay groupes -that filled the place, one might observe a -certain air that distinguished her from -every female there,—not by pretension to -superiority, (of that her unequalled loveliness -must have acquitted her, even to the -vainest of the groupe), but by an untainted, -unsophisticated character, diffusing itself -over look and motion, and even thought—turning -wildness into grace—giving an emphasis -to a single exclamation, that made -polished sentences sound trifling—for ever -trespassing against etiquette with vivid and -fearless enthusiasm, and apologizing the -next moment with such timid and graceful -repentance, that one doubted whether -the offence or the apology were most -delightful.</p> - -<p>“She presented altogether a singular -contrast to the measured tones, the mincing -gait, and the organized uniformity of -dress, and manner, and look, and feeling, -of the females about her. The harness of -art was upon every limb and feature from -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_235" title="235"> </a> -their birth, and its trappings concealed or -crippled every movement which nature -had designed for graceful. But in the -movement of this young female, there was -a bounding elasticity, a springiness, a luxuriant -and conscious vitality, that made every -action the expression of thought; and -then, as she shrunk from the disclosure, -made it the more exquisite interpreter of -feeling. There was around her a mingled -light of innocence and majesty, never -united but in <em>her</em> sex. Men may long retain, -and even confirm, the character of -power which nature has stamped on their -frames, but they very soon forfeit their -claim to the expression of innocence.</p> - -<p>“Amid the vivid and eccentric graces -of a form that seemed like a comet in the -world of beauty, bound by no laws, or by -laws that she alone understood and obeyed, -there was a shade of melancholy, that, to a -superficial observer, seemed transitory and -assumed, perhaps as a studied relief to the -glowing colours of a picture so brilliant, -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_236" title="236"> </a> -but which, to other eyes, announced, that -with all the energies of intellect occupied,—with -all the instincts of sense excited,—the -heart had as yet no inmate, and wanted -one.</p> - -<p>“The groupe who had been conversing -about the stranger, felt their attention irresistibly -attracted by this object; and the -low murmur of their fearful whispers was -converted into broken exclamations of delight -and wonder, as the fair vision passed -them. She had not long done so, when -the stranger was seen slowly returning, -seeming, as before, known to all, but -knowing none. As the female party turned, -they encountered him. His emphatic -glance selected and centered in one alone. -She saw him too, recognized him, and, uttering -a wild shriek, fell on the earth senseless.</p> - -<p>“The tumult occasioned by this accident, -which so many witnessed, and none -knew the cause of, for some moments drew -off the attention of all from the stranger—all -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_237" title="237"> </a> -were occupied either in assisting or inquiring -after the lady who had fainted. -She was borne to her carriage by more assistants -than she needed or wished for—and -just as she was lifted into it, the voice -of some one near her uttered the word -“Immalee!” She recognized the voice, -and turned, with a look of anguish and -a feeble cry, towards the direction from -which it proceeded. Those around her -had heard the sound,—but as they did not -understand its meaning, or know to whom -it was addressed, they ascribed the lady’s -emotion to indisposition, and hastened to -place her in her carriage. It drove away, -but the stranger pursued its course with -his eyes—the company dispersed, he remained -alone—twilight faded into darkness—he -appeared not to notice the change—a -few still continued lingering at the -extremity of the walk to mark him—they -were wholly unmarked by him.</p> - -<p>“One who remained the longest said, -that he saw him use the action of one who -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_238" title="238"> </a> -wipes away a tear hastily. To his eyes -the tear of penitence was denied for ever. -Could this have been the tear of passion? -If so, how much woe did it announce to -its object!</p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 id="Chapter_XX">CHAPTER <ins title="XVIII">XX</ins>.<a class="pagenum" name="Page_239" title="239"> </a></h2> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="line">Oh what was love made for, if ’tis not the same<br /></div> -<div class="line">Through joy and through torment, through glory and shame!<br /></div> -<div class="line">I know not, I ask not, what guilt’s in thine heart,<br /></div> -<div class="line">I but know I must love thee, whatever thou art.<br /></div> -<div class="line right small-caps">Moore.<br /></div> -</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="drop-cap"><span class="small-caps">“The</span> next day, the young female who -had excited so much interest the preceding -evening, was to quit Madrid, to pass -a few weeks at a villa belonging to her family, -at a short distance from the city. -That family, including all the company, -consisted of her mother Donna Clara di -Aliaga, the wife of a wealthy merchant, -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_240" title="240"> </a> -who was monthly expected to return from -the Indies; her brother Don Fernan di -Aliaga, and several servants; for these -wealthy citizens, conscious of their opulence -and formerly high descent, piqued -themselves upon travelling with no less -ceremony and pompous tardiness than accompanied -the progress of a grandee. So -the old square-built, lumbering carriage, -moved on like a hearse; the coachman sat -fast asleep on the box; and the six black -horses crawled at a pace like the progress -of time when he visits affliction. Beside -the carriage rode Fernan di Aliaga and -his servants, with umbrellas and huge -spectacles; and within it were placed -Donna Clara and her daughter. The interior -of this arrangement was the counterpart -of its external appearance,—all announced -dullness, formality, and withering -monotony.</p> - -<p>“Donna Clara was a woman of a cold -and grave temper, with all the solemnity -of a Spaniard, and all the austerity of a -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_241" title="241"> </a> -bigot. Don Fernan presented that union -of fiery passion and saturnic manners not -unusual among Spaniards. His dull and -selfish pride was wounded by the recollection -of his family having been in trade; -and, looking on the unrivalled beauty of -his sister as a possible means of his obtaining -an alliance with a family of rank, he -viewed her with that kind of selfish partiality -as little honourable to him who feels -it, as to her who was its object.</p> - -<p>“And it was amid such beings that the -vivid and susceptible Immalee, the daughter -of nature, “the gay creature of the -elements,” was doomed to wither away -the richly-coloured and exquisitely-scented -flower of an existence so ungenially transplanted. -Her singular destiny seemed to -have removed her from a physical wilderness, -to place her in a moral one. And, -perhaps, her last state was worse than her -first.</p> - -<p>“It is certain that the gloomiest prospect -presents nothing so chilling as the aspect -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_242" title="242"> </a> -of human faces, in which we try in -vain to trace one corresponding expression; -and the sterility of nature itself is luxury -compared to the sterility of human hearts, -which communicate all the desolation they -feel.</p> - -<p>“They had been some time on their -way, when Donna Clara, who never spoke -till after a long preface of silence, perhaps -to give what she said a weight it might -otherwise have wanted, said, with oracular -deliberation, “Daughter, I hear you fainted -in the public walks last night—did you -meet with any thing that surprised or terrified -you?”—“No, Madam.”—“What, -then, could be the cause of the emotion -you betrayed at the sight, as I am told—I -know nothing—of a personage of extraordinary -demeanour?”—“Oh, I cannot, -dare not tell!” said Isidora, dropping her -veil over her burning cheek. Then the irrepressible -ingenuousness of her former nature, -rushing over her heart and frame like a -flood, she sunk from the cushion on which -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_243" title="243"> </a> -she sat at Donna Clara’s feet, exclaiming, -“Oh, mother, I will tell you all!”—“No!” -said Donna Clara, repelling her with a -cold feeling of offended pride; “no!—there -is no occasion. I seek no confidence -withheld and bestowed in the same breath; -nor do I like these violent emotions—they -are unmaidenly. Your duties as a child are -easily understood—they are merely perfect -obedience, profound submission, and unbroken -silence, except when you are addressed -by me, your brother, or Father -Jose. Surely no duties were ever more -easily performed—rise, then, and cease to -weep. If your conscience disturbs you, -accuse yourself to Father Jose, who will, -no doubt, inflict a penance proportioned -to the enormity of your offence. I trust -only he will not err on the side of indulgence.” -And so saying, Donna Clara, -who had never uttered so long a speech -before, reclined back on her cushion, and -began to tell her beads with much devotion, -till the arrival of the carriage at its -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_244" title="244"> </a> -destination awoke her from a profound and -peaceful sleep.</p> - -<p>“It was near noon, and dinner in a cool -low apartment near the garden awaited -only the approach of Father Jose, the confessor. -He arrived at length. He was a -man of an imposing figure, mounted on a -stately mule. His features, at first view, -bore strong traces of thought; but, on -closer examination, those traces seemed rather -the result of physical conformation, -than of any intellectual exercise. The -channel was open, but the stream had not -been directed there. However, though -defective in education, and somewhat narrow -in mind, Father Jose was a good -man, and meant well. He loved power, -and he was devoted to the interests of the -Catholic church; but he had frequently -doubts, (which he kept to himself), of -the absolute necessity of celibacy, and he -felt (strange effect!) a chill all over him -when he heard of the fires of an <i>auto da -fe</i>. Dinner was concluded; the fruit and -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_245" title="245"> </a> -wine, the latter untasted by the females, -were on the table,—the choicest of them -placed before Father Jose,—when Isidora, -after a profound reverence to her mother and -the priest, retired, as usual, to her apartment. -Donna Clara turned to the confessor with -a look that demanded to be answered. “It -is her hour for siesta,” said the priest, helping -himself to a bunch of grapes. “No, -Father, no!” said Donna Clara sadly; “her -maid informs me she does not retire to -sleep. She was, alas! too well accustomed -to that burning climate where she was lost -in her infancy, to feel the heat as a Christian -should. No, she retires neither to -pray or sleep, after the devout custom of -Spanish women, but, I fear, to”<span style="white-space: nowrap;">——</span> “To -do what?” said the priest, with horror in -his voice—“To think, I fear,” said Donna -Clara; “for often I observe, on her return, -the traces of tears on her face. I tremble, -Father, lest those tears be shed for that -heathen land, that region of Satan, where -her youth was past.”—“I’ll give her a penance,” -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_246" title="246"> </a> -said Father Jose, “that will save -her the trouble of shedding tears on the -score of memory at least—these grapes are -delicious.”—“But, Father,” pursued Donna -Clara, with all the weak but restless -anxiety of a superstitious mind, “though -you have made me easy on that subject, I -still am wretched. Oh, Father, how she -will talk sometimes!—like a creature self-taught, -that needed neither director or -confessor but her own heart.”—“How!” -exclaimed Father Jose, “need neither -confessor or director!—she must be beside -herself.”—“Oh, Father,” continued Donna -Clara, “she will say things in her mild -and unanswerable manner, that, armed -with all my authority, I”<span style="white-space: nowrap;">——</span> “How—how -is that?” said the priest, in a tone of -severity—“does she deny any of the tenets -of the holy Catholic church?”—“No! no! -no!” said the terrified Donna Clara crossing -herself. “How then?”—“Why, she -speaks in a manner in which I never heard -you, reverend Father, or any of the reverend -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_247" title="247"> </a> -brethren, whom my devotion to the -holy church has led me to hear, speak before. -It is in vain I tell her that true religion -consists in hearing mass—in going -to confession—in performing penance—in -observing the fasts and vigils—in undergoing -mortification and abstinence—in believing -all that the holy church teaches—and -hating, detesting, abhorring, and -execrating<span style="white-space: nowrap;">——</span>” “Enough, daughter—enough,” -said Father Jose; “there can be -no doubt of the orthodoxy of your creed?”—“I -trust not, holy Father,” said the anxious -Donna Clara. “I were an infidel -to doubt it,” interposed the priest; “I -might as well deny this fruit to be exquisite, -or this glass of Malaga to be -worthy the table of his Holiness the Pope, -if he feasted all the Cardinals. But -how, daughter, as touching the supposed -or apprehended defalcations in Donna -Isidora’s creed?”—“Holy Father, I -have already explained my own religious -sentiments.”—“Yes—yes—we have had -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_248" title="248"> </a> -enough of them; now for your daughter’s.”—“She -will sometimes say,” said Donna -Clara, bursting into tears—“she will -say, but never till greatly urged, that -religion ought to be a system whose -spirit was universal love. Do you understand -any thing of that, Father?”—“Humph—humph!”—“That -it must be -something that bound all who professed it -to habits of benevolence, gentleness, and -humility, under every difference of creed -and of form.”—“Humph—humph!”—“Father,” -said Donna Clara, a little piqued at -the apparent indifference with which Father -Jose listened to her communications, -and resolved to rouse him by some terrific -evidence of the truth of her suspicions, -“Father, I have heard her dare to express -a hope that the heretics in the train -of the English ambassador might not be -everlastingly”<span style="white-space: nowrap;">——</span> “Hush!—I must not -hear such sounds, or it might be my duty -to take severer notice of these lapses. -However, daughter,” continued Father -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_249" title="249"> </a> -Jose, “thus far I will venture for your -consolation. As sure as this fine peach is -in my hand—another, if you please—and -as sure as I shall finish this other glass of -Malaga”—here a long pause attested the -fulfilment of the pledge—“so sure”—and -Father Jose turned the inverted glass on -the table—“Madonna Isidora has—has the -elements of a Christian in her, however -improbable it may seem to you—I swear -it to you by the habit I wear;—for the -rest, a little penance—a<span style="white-space: nowrap;">——</span>I shall consider -of it. And now, daughter, when your -son Don Fernan has finished his siesta,—as -there is no reason to suspect him of retiring -to <em>think</em>,—please to inform him I -am ready to continue the game of chess -which we commenced four months ago. I -have pushed my pawn to the last square -but one, and the next step gives me a -queen.”—“Has the game continued so -long?” said Donna Clara. “Long!” repeated -the priest, “Aye, and may continue -much longer—we have never played -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_250" title="250"> </a> -more than three hours a-day on an average.”</p> - -<p>“He then retired to sleep, and the evening -was passed by the priest and Don -Fernan, in profound silence at their chess—by -Donna Clara, in silence equally profound, -at her tapestry—and by Isidora at -the casement, which the intolerable heat -had compelled them to leave open, in gazing -at the lustre of the moon, and inhaling the -odour of the tube-rose, and watching the -expanding leaves of the night-blowing cereus. -The physical luxuries of her former -existence seemed renewed by these objects. -The intense blue of the heavens, and the -burning planet that stood in sole glory in -their centre, might have vied with all that -lavish and refulgent opulence of light in -which nature arrays an Indian night. Below, -too, there were flowers and fragrance; -colours, like veiled beauty, mellowed, not -hid; and dews that hung on every leaf, -trembling and sparkling like the tears of -spirits, that wept to take leave of the -flowers.</p> - -<p><a class="pagenum" name="Page_251" title="251"> </a>“The breeze, indeed, though redolent -of the breath of the orange blossom, the -jasmine, and the rose, had not the rich and -balmy odour that scents the Indian air by -night.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="line"><span class="greek" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc" title="Entha nêson makarôn Aurai peripneousin.">Ενθα νησον μακαρων Αυραι περιπνεουσιν.</span><br /></div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p>“Except this, what was not there that -might not renew the delicious dream of -her former existence, and make her believe -herself again the queen of that fairy isle?—One -image was wanting—an image whose -absence made that paradise of islands, and -all the odorous and flowery luxury of a -moonlight garden in Spain, alike deserts -to her. In her heart alone could she hope -to meet that image,—to herself alone did -she dare to repeat his name, and those -wild and sweet songs of his country<a name="FootnoteMarker_20" href="#Footnote_20" class="footnote-marker">(20)</a> -which he had taught her in his happier -moods. And so strange was the contrast -between her former and present existence,—so -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_252" title="252"> </a> -subdued was she by constraint and -coldness,—so often had she been told that -every thing she did, said, or thought, was -wrong,—that she began to yield up the -evidences of her senses, to avoid the perpetual -persecutions of teazing and imperious -mediocrity, and considered the appearance -of the stranger as one of those visions -that formed the trouble and joy of -her dreamy and illusive existence.</p> - -<p>“I am surprised, sister,” said Fernan, -whom Father Jose’s gaining his queen had -put in unusually bad humour—“I am -surprised that you never busy yourself, as -young maidens use, at your needle, or in -some quaint niceties of your sex.”—“Or -in reading some devout book,” said Donna -Clara, raising her eyes one moment from -her tapestry, and then dropping them -again; “there is the legend of that <a name="FootnoteMarker_21" href="#Footnote_21" class="footnote-marker">(21)</a>Polish -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_253" title="253"> </a> -saint, born, like <em>her</em>, in a land of darkness, -yet chosen to be a vessel<span style="white-space: nowrap;">——</span>I have forgot -his name, reverend Father.”—“Check to -the king,” said Father Jose in reply. -“You regard nothing but watching a -few flowers, or hanging over your lute, or -gazing at the moon,” continued Fernan, -vexed alike at the success of his antagonist -and the silence of Isidora. “She is eminent -in alms-deeds and works of charity,” -said the good-natured priest. “I was -summoned to a miserable hovel near your -villa, Madonna Clara, to a dying sinner, a -beggar rotting on rotten straw!”—“Jesu!” -cried Donna Clara with involuntary horror, -“I washed the feet of thirteen beggars, -on my knees in my father’s hall, the -week before my marriage with her honoured -father, and I never could abide the -sight of a beggar since.”—“Associations -are sometimes indelibly strong,” said the -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_254" title="254"> </a> -priest drily;—then he added, “I went as -was my duty, but your daughter was there -before me. She had gone uncalled, and -was uttering the sweetest words of consolation -from a homily, which a certain poor -priest, who shall be nameless, had lent her -from his humble store.”</p> - -<p>“Isidora blushed at this anonymous -vanity, while she mildly smiled or wept at -the harassings of Don Fernan, and the -heartless austerity of her mother. “I heard -her as I entered the hovel; and, by the -habit I wear, I paused on the threshold -with delight. Her first words were<span style="white-space: nowrap;">——</span>Check-mate!” -he exclaimed, forgetting -his homily in his triumph, and pointing, -with appealing eye, and emphatic finger, -to the desperate state of his adversary’s -king. “That was a very extraordinary -exclamation!” said the literal Donna Clara, -who had never raised her eyes from her -work.—“I did not think my daughter was -so fond of chess as to burst into the house -of a dying beggar with such a phrase in -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_255" title="255"> </a> -her mouth.”—“It was I said it, Madonna,” -said the priest, reverting to his game, on -which he hung with soul and eye intent -on his recent victory. “Holy saints!” said -Donna Clara, still more and more perplexed, -“I thought the usual phrase on such -occasions was <i lang="la" xml:lang="la">pax vobiscum</i>, or”<span style="white-space: nowrap;">——</span> Before -Father Jose could reply, a shriek from -Isidora pierced the ears of every one. All -gathered round her in a moment, reinforced -by four female attendants and two pages, -whom the unusual sound had summoned -from the antichamber. Isidora had not -fainted; she still stood among them pale -as death, speechless, her eye wandering -round the groupe that encircled her, without -seeming to distinguish them. But she -retained that presence of mind which never -deserts woman where a secret is to be -guarded, and she neither pointed with finger, -or glanced with eye, towards the casement, -where the cause of her alarm had -presented itself. Pressed with a thousand -questions, she appeared incapable of answering -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_256" title="256"> </a> -them, and, declining assistance, -leaned against the casement for support.</p> - -<p>“Donna Clara was now advancing with -measured step to proffer a bottle of curious -essences, which she drew from a pocket of -a depth beyond calculation, when one of -the female attendants, aware of her favourite -habits, proposed reviving her by the -scent of the flowers that clustered round -the frame of the casement; and collecting -a handful of roses, offered them to Isidora. -The sight and scent of these beautiful -flowers, revived the former associations of -Isidora; and, waving away her attendant, -she exclaimed, “There are no roses like -those which surrounded me when he beheld -me first!”—“He!—who, daughter?” -said the alarmed Donna Clara. “Speak, -I charge you, sister,” said the irritable Fernan, -“to whom do you allude?”—“She -raves,” said the priest, whose habitual penetration -discovered there was a secret,—and -whose professional jealousy decided -that no one, not mother or brother, should -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_257" title="257"> </a> -share it with him; “she raves—ye are to -blame—forbear to hang round and to question -her. Madonna, retire to rest, and the -saints watch round your bed!” Isidora, -bending thankfully for this permission, retired -to her apartment; and father Jose -for an hour appeared to contend with the -suspicious fears of Donna Clara, and the -sullen irritability of Fernan, merely that -he might induce them, in the heat of controversy, -to betray all they knew or dreaded, -that he might strengthen his own conjectures, -and establish his own power by -the discovery.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="line">“Scire volunt secreta domus, et inde timeri.”<br /></div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="no-indent">And this desire is not only natural but -necessary, in a being from whose heart his -profession has torn every tie of nature and -of passion; and if it generates malignity, -ambition, and the wish for mischief, it is -the system, not the individual, we must -blame.</p> - -<p><a class="pagenum" name="Page_258" title="258"> </a>“Madonna,” said the Father, “you are -always urging your zeal for the Catholic -church—and you, Senhor, are always reminding -me of the honour of your family—I -am anxious for both—and how can the -interests of both be better secured than by -Donna Isidora taking the veil?”—“The -wish of my soul!” cried Donna Clara, -clasping her hands, and closing her eyes, -as if she witnessed her daughter’s apotheosis. -“I will never hear of it, Father,” -said Fernan; “my sister’s beauty and -wealth entitle <em>me</em> to claim alliance with -the first families in Spain—their baboon -shapes and copper-coloured visages might -be redeemed for a century by such a graft -on the stock, and the blood of which they -boast would not be impoverished by a -transfusion of the <i lang="la" xml:lang="la">aurum potabile</i> of ours -into it.”—“You forget, son,” said the -priest, “the extraordinary circumstances -attendant on the early part of your sister’s -life. There are many of our Catholic nobility -who would rather see the black blood -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_259" title="259"> </a> -of the banished Moors, or the proscribed -Jews, flow in the veins of their descendants, -than that of one who”<span style="white-space: nowrap;">——</span> Here a -mysterious whisper drew from Donna -Clara a shudder of distress and consternation, -and from her son an impatient motion -of angry incredulity. “I do not credit -a word of it,” said the latter; “you wish -that my sister should take the veil, and -therefore you credit and circulate the monstrous -invention.”—“Take heed, son, I -conjure you,” said the trembling Donna -Clara. “Take you heed, Madam, that -you do not sacrifice your daughter to an -unfounded and incredible fiction.”—“Fiction!” -repeated Father Jose—“Senhor, I -forgive your illiberal reflections on me,—but -let me remind you, that the same immunity -will not be extended to the insult -you offer to the Catholic faith.”—“Reverend -Father,” said the terrified Fernan, -“the Catholic church has not a more devoted -and unworthy professor on earth -than myself.”—“I do believe the latter,” -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_260" title="260"> </a> -said the priest. “You admit all that the -holy church teaches to be irrefragably -true?”—“To be sure I do.”—“Then you -must admit that the islands in the Indian -seas are particularly under the influence -of the devil?”—“I do, if the church requires -me so to believe.”—“And that he -possessed a peculiar sway over that island -where your sister was lost in her infancy?”—“I -do not see how that follows,” said -Fernan, making a sudden stand at this -premise of the Sorites. “Not see how that -follows!” repeated Father Jose, crossing -himself;</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="line">“Excæcavit oculos eorum ne <ins title="viderent.”">viderent.</ins><br /></div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="no-indent">But why waste I my Latin and logic on -thee, who art incapable of both? Mark -me, I will use but one unanswerable argument, -the which whoso gainsayeth is a—gainsayer—that’s -all. The Inquisition at -Goa knows the truth of what I have asserted, -and who will dare deny it now?”—“Not -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_261" title="261"> </a> -I!—not I!” exclaimed Donna -Clara; “nor, I am sure, will this stubborn -boy. Son, I adjure you, make -haste to believe what the reverend Father -has told you.”—“I am believing as -fast as I can,” answered Don Fernan, in -the tone of one who is reluctantly swallowing -a distasteful mess; “but my -faith will be choaked if you don’t allow it -time to swallow. As for digestion,” he -muttered, “let that come when it pleases -God.”—“Daughter,” said the priest, who -well knew the <i lang="la" xml:lang="la">mollia tempora fandi</i>, and -saw that the sullen and angry Fernan -could not well bear more at present; -“daughter, it is enough—we must lead -with gentleness those whose steps find -stumbling-blocks in the paths of grace. -Pray with me, daughter, that your son’s -eyes may yet be opened to the glory and -felicity of his sister’s vocation to a state -where the exhaustless copiousness of divine -benignity places the happy inmates above -all those mean and mundane anxieties, -those petty and local wants, which<span style="white-space: nowrap;">——</span>Ah!—hem—verily -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_262" title="262"> </a> -I feel some of those -wants myself at this moment. I am hoarse -with speaking; and the intense heat of -this night hath so exhausted my strength, -that methinks the wing of a partridge -would be no unseasonable refreshment.”</p> - -<p>“At a sign from Donna Clara, a salver -with wine appeared, and a partridge that -might have provoked the French prelate -to renew his meal once more, spite of his -horror of <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">toujours perdrix</i>. “See, daughter, -see how much I am exhausted in this -distressing controversy—well may I say, -the zeal of thine house hath eaten me up.”—“Then -you and the zeal of the house -will soon be <em>quit</em>,” muttered Fernan as -he retired. And drawing the folds of his -mantle over his shoulder, he threw a glance -of wonder at the happy facility with which -the priest discussed the wings and breast -of his favourite bird,—whispering alternately -words of admonition to Donna Clara, -and muttering something about the omission -of pimento and lemon.</p> - -<p>“Father,” said Don Fernan, stalking -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_263" title="263"> </a> -back from the door, and fronting the priest—“Father, -I have a favour to ask of you.”—“Glad, -were it in my power to comply -with it,” said Father Jose, turning over -the skeleton of the fowl; “but you see -here is only the thigh, and that somewhat -bare.”—“It is not of that I speak or think, -reverend Father,” said Fernan, with a -smile; “I have but to request, that you -will not renew the subject of my sister’s vocation -till the return of my father.”—“Certainly -not, son, certainly not. Ah! you -know the time to ask a favour—you know -I never could refuse you at a moment like -this, when my heart is warmed, and softened, -and expanded, by—by—by the evidences -of your contrition and humiliation, -and all that your devout mother, and your -zealous spiritual friend, could hope or wish -for. In truth, it overcomes me—these -tears—I do not often weep but on occasions -like these, and then I weep abundantly, -and am compelled to recruit my -lack of moisture thus.”—“Fetch more -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_264" title="264"> </a> -wine,” said Donna Clara.—The order was -obeyed.—“Good night, Father,” said Don -Fernan.—“The saints watch round you, -my son! Oh I am exhausted!—I sink in -this struggle! The night is hot, and requires -wine to slake my thirst—and wine -is a provocative, and requires food to take -away its deleterious and damnable qualities—and -food, especially partridge, which -is a hot and stimulative nutritive, requires -drink again to absorb or neutralize its exciting -qualities. Observe me, Donna Clara—I -speak as to the learned. There is -stimulation, and there is absorption; the -causes of which are manifold, and the effects -such as<span style="white-space: nowrap;">——</span>I am not bound to tell -you at present.”—“Reverend Father,” -said the admiring Donna Clara, not guessing, -in the least, from what source all this -eloquence flowed, “I trespassed on your -time merely to ask a favour also.”—“Ask -and ’tis granted,” said Father Jose, with a -protrusion of his foot as proud as that of -Sixtus himself. “It is merely to know, -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_265" title="265"> </a> -will not all the inhabitants of those accursed -Indian isles be damned everlastingly?”—“Damned -everlastingly, and without -doubt,” returned the priest. “Now my -mind is easy,” rejoined the lady, “and I -shall sleep in peace to-night.”</p> - -<p>“Sleep, however, did not visit her so -soon as she expected, for an hour after she -knocked at Father Jose’s door, repeating, -“Damned to all eternity, Father, did you -not say?”—“Be damned to all eternity!” -said the priest, tossing on his feverish bed, -and dreaming, in the intervals of his troubled -sleep, of Don Fernan coming to confession -with a drawn sword, and Donna -Clara with a bottle of Xeres in her hand, -which she swallowed at a draught, while -his parched lips were gaping for a drop -in vain,—and of the Inquisition being -established in an island off the coast of -Bengal, and a huge partridge seated with a -cap on at the end of a table covered with -black, as chief Inquisitor,—and various and -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_266" title="266"> </a> -monstrous chimeras, the abortive births of -repletion and indigestion.</p> - -<p>“Donna Clara, catching only the last -words, returned to her apartment with light -step and gladdened heart, and, full of pious -consolation, renewed her devotions before -the image of the virgin in her apartment, -at each side of whose niche two wax tapers -were burning, till the cool morning -breeze made it possible for her to retire -with some hope of rest.</p> - -<p>“Isidora, in her apartment, was equally -sleepless; and she, too, had prostrated herself -before the sacred image, but with different -thoughts. Her feverish and dreamy -existence, composed of wild and irreconcileable -contrasts between the forms of the -present, and the visions of the past,—the -difference between all that she felt within, -and all that she saw around her,—between -the impassioned life of recollection, and -the monotonous one of reality,—was becoming -too much for a heart bursting with -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_267" title="267"> </a> -undirected sensibilities, and a head giddy -from vicissitudes that would have deeply -tried much firmer faculties.</p> - -<p>“She remained for some time repeating -the usual number of ave’s, to which she -added the litany of the Virgin, without -any corresponding impulses of solace or -illumination, till at length, feeling that -her prayers were not the expressions of -her heart, and dreading this heterodoxy -of the heart more than the violation of the -ritual, she ventured to address the image -of the Virgin in language of her own.</p> - -<p>“Mild and beautiful Spirit!” she cried, -prostrating herself before the figure—“you -whose lips alone have smiled on -me since I reached your Christian land,—you -whose countenance I have sometimes -imagined to belong to those who -dwelt in the stars of my own Indian sky,—hear -me, and be not angry with me! -Let me lose all feeling of my present existence, -or all memory of the past! Why -do my former thoughts return? They -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_268" title="268"> </a> -once made me happy, now they are thorns -in my heart! Why do they retain their -power since their nature is altered? -I cannot be what I was—Oh, let me -then no longer remember it! Let me, -if possible, see, feel, and think as those around -me do! Alas! I feel it is much -easier to descend to their level than to raise -them to mine. Time, constraint, and dullness, -may do much for me, but what time -could ever operate such a change on them! -It would be like looking for the pearls at -the bottom of the stagnant ponds which -art has dug in their gardens. No, mother -of the Deity! divine and mysterious woman, -no!—they never shall see another throb -of my burning heart. Let it consume in its -own fires before a drop of their cold compassion -extinguishes them! Mother divine! -are not burning hearts, then, worthiest of -thee?—and does not the love of nature assimilate -itself to the love of God! True, -we may love without religion, but can we -be religious without love? Yet, mother -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_269" title="269"> </a> -divine! dry up my heart, since there is no -longer a channel for its streams to flow -through!—or turn all those streams into -the river, narrow and cold, that holds its -course on to eternity! Why should I -think or feel, since life requires only duties -that no feeling suggests, and apathy -that no reflection disturbs? Here let me -rest!—it is indeed the end of enjoyment, -but it is also the end of suffering; and a -thousand tears are a price too dear for the -single smile which is sold for them in the -commerce of life. Alas! it is better to -wander in perpetual sterility than to be -tortured with the remembrance of flowers -that have withered, and odours that have -died for ever.” Then a gush of uncontroulable -emotion overwhelming her, she -again bowed before the Virgin. “Yes, -help me to banish every image from my -soul but his—his alone! Let my heart be -like this lonely apartment, consecrated by -the presence of one sole image, and illuminated -only by that light which affection -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_270" title="270"> </a> -kindles before the object of its adoration, -and worships it by for ever!”</p> - -<p>“In an agony of enthusiasm she continued -to kneel before the image; and when -she rose, the silence of her apartment, and -the calm smile of the celestial figure, seemed -at once a contrast and a reproach to -this excess of morbid indulgence. That -smile appeared to her like a frown. It is -certain, that in agitation we can feel no solace -from features that express only profound -tranquillity. We would rather wish -corresponding agitation, even hostility—any -thing but a calm that neutralizes and -absorbs us. It is the answer of the rock -to the wave—we collect, foam, dash, and -disperse ourselves against it, and retire -broken, shattered, and murmuring to the -echoes of our disappointment.</p> - -<p>“From the tranquil and hopeless aspect -of the divinity, smiling on the misery it -neither consoles or relieves, and intimating -in that smile the profound and pulseless -apathy of inaccessible elevation, coldly -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_271" title="271"> </a> -hinting that humanity must cease to be, -before it can cease to suffer—from this the -sufferer rushed for consolation to nature, -whose ceaseless agitation seems to correspond -with the vicissitudes of human destiny -and the emotions of the human heart—whose -alternation of storms and calms,—of -clouds and sun-light,—of terrors and delights—seems -to keep a kind of mysterious -measure of ineffable harmony with -that instrument whose chords are doomed -alternately to the thrill of agony and rapture, -till the hand of death sweeps over all -the strings, and silences them for ever.—With -such a feeling, Isidora leaned against -her casement, gasped for a breath of air, -which the burning night did not grant, and -thought how, on such a night in her Indian -isle, she could plunge into the stream shaded -by her beloved tamarind, or even venture -amid the still and silvery waves of the -ocean, laughing at the broken beams of -the moonlight, as her light form dimpled -the waters—snatching with smiling delight -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_272" title="272"> </a> -the brilliant, tortuous, and enamelled -shells that seemed to woo her white footsteps -as she turned to the shore. Now -all was different. The duties of the -bath had been performed, but with a -parade of soaps, perfumes, and, above all, -attendants, who, though of her own sex, -gave Isidora an unspeakable degree of disgust -at the operation. The sponges and -odours sickened her unsophisticated senses, -and the presence of another human being -seemed to close up every pore.</p> - -<p>“She had felt no refreshment from the -bath, or from her prayers—she sought it -at her casement, but there also in vain. -The moon was as bright as the sun of -colder climates, and the heavens were all -in a blaze with her light. She seemed -like a gallant vessel ploughing the bright -and trackless ocean alone, while a thousand -stars burned in the wake of her quiet glory, -like attendant vessels pursuing their -course to undiscovered worlds, and pointing -them out to the mortal eye that lingered -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_273" title="273"> </a> -on their course, and loved their -light.</p> - -<p>“Such was the scene above, but what -a contrast to the scene below! The glorious -and unbounded light fell on an inclosure -of stiff parterres, cropped myrtles -and orange-trees in tubs, and quadrangular -ponds, and bowers of trellis-work, and nature -tortured a thousand ways, and indignant -and repulsive under her tortures every -way.</p> - -<p>“Isidora looked and wept. Tears had -now become her language when alone—it -was a language she dared not utter before -her family. Suddenly she saw one of the -moonlight alleys darkened by an approaching -figure. It advanced—it uttered her -name—the name she remembered and loved—the -name of Immalee! “Ah!” she -exclaimed, leaning from the casement, “is -there then one who recognizes me by that -name?”—“It is only by that name I can -address you,” answered the voice of the -stranger—“I have not yet the honour of -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_274" title="274"> </a> -being acquainted with the name your -Christian friends have given you.”—“They -call me Isidora, but do you still call me -Immalee. But how is it,” she added in a -trembling voice,—her fears for his safety -overcoming all her sudden and innocent -joy at his sight—“how is it that you are -here?—here, where no human being is -ever beheld but the inmates of the mansion—how -did you cross the garden wall?—how -did you come from India? Oh! -retire for your own safety! I am among -those whom I cannot trust or love. My -mother is severe—my brother is violent. -Oh! how did you obtain entrance into the -garden?—How is it,” she added in a broken -voice, “that you risk so much to see -one whom you have forgotten so long?”—“Fair -Neophyte, beautiful Christian,” -answered the stranger, with a diabolical -sneer, “be it known to you that -I regard bolts, and bars, and walls, as -much as I did the breakers and rocks -of your Indian isle—that I can go -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_275" title="275"> </a> -where, and retire when I please, without -leave asked or taken of your brother’s -mastiffs, or Toledos, or spring-guns, -and in utter defiance of your mother’s advanced -guard of duennas, armed in spectacles, -and flanked with a double ammunition -of rosaries, with beads as large as<span style="white-space: nowrap;">——</span>” -“Hush!—hush!—do not utter such impious -sounds—I am taught to revere those -holy things. But is it you?—and did I -indeed see you last night, or was it a -thought such as visits me in dreams, and -wraps me again in visions of that beautiful -and blessed isle where first I<span style="white-space: nowrap;">——</span>Oh -that I never had seen you!”—“Lovely -Christian! be reconciled to your horrible -destiny. You saw me last night—I crossed -your path twice when you were sparkling -among the brightest and most beautiful -of all Madrid. It was me you saw—I -rivetted your eye—I transfixed your slender -frame as with a flash of lightning—you -fell fainting and withered under my -burning glance. It was me you saw—me, -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_276" title="276"> </a> -the disturber of your angelical existence -in that isle of paradise—the hunter -of your form and your steps, even amid the -complicated and artificial tracks in which -you have been concealed by the false forms -of the existence you have embraced!”—“Embraced!—Oh -no! they seized on me—they -dragged me here—they made me -a Christian. They told me all was for my -salvation, for my happiness here and hereafter—and -I trust it will, for I have been -so miserable ever since, that I ought to be -happy somewhere.”—“Happy,” repeated -the stranger with his withering sneer—“and -are you not happy now? The delicacy -of your exquisite frame is no longer -exposed to the rage of the elements—the -fine and feminine luxury of your taste is -solicited and indulged by a thousand inventions -of art—your bed is of down—your -chamber hung with tapestry. Whether -the moon be bright or dark, six wax tapers -burn in your chamber all night. -Whether the skies be bright or cloudy,—whether -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_277" title="277"> </a> -the earth be clothed with flowers, -deformed with tempests,—the art of the -limner has surrounded you with “a new -heaven and a new earth;” and you may -bask in suns that never set, while the heavens -are dark to other eyes,—and luxuriate -amid landscapes and flowers, while half -your fellow-creatures are perishing amid -snows and tempests!” (Such was the overflowing -acrimony of this being, that he -could not speak of the beneficence of nature, -or the luxuries of art, without interweaving -something that seemed like a satire -on, or a scorn of both.) “You also -have intellectual beings to converse with -instead of the chirpings of loxias, and the -chatterings of monkeys.”—“I have not -found the conversation I encounter much -more intelligible or significant,” murmured -Isidora, but the stranger did not appear to -hear her. “You are surrounded by every -thing that can flatter the senses, intoxicate -the imagination, or expand the heart. All -these indulgences must make you forget -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_278" title="278"> </a> -the voluptuous but unrefined liberty of -your former existence.”—“The birds in -my mother’s cages,” said Isidora, “are for -ever pecking at their gilded bars, and -trampling on the clear seeds and limpid -water they are supplied with—would they -not rather rest in the mossy trunk of a -doddered oak, and drink of whatever -stream they met, and be at liberty, at -all the risk of poorer food and fouler drink—would -they not rather do any thing than -break their bills against gilded wires?”—“Then -you do not feel your new existence -in this Christian land so likely to -surfeit you with delight as you once -thought? For shame, Immalee—shame -on your ingratitude and caprice! Do you -remember when from your Indian isle you -caught a glimpse of the Christian worship, -and were entranced at the sight?”—“I -remember all that ever passed in that -isle. My life formerly was all anticipation,—now -it is all retrospection. <em>The life -of the happy is all hopes,—that of the unfortunate -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_279" title="279"> </a> -all memory.</em> Yes, I remember -catching a glimpse of that religion so beautiful -and pure; and when they brought -me to a Christian land, I thought I should -have found them all Christians.”—“And -what did you find them, then, Immalee?”—“Only -Catholics.”—“Are you aware of -the danger of the words you utter? Do -you know that in this country to hint a -doubt of Catholicism and Christianity being -the same, would consign you to the -flames as a heretic incorrigible? Your -mother, so lately known to you as a mother, -would bind your hands when the -covered litter came for its victim; and -your father, though he has never yet beheld -you, would buy with his last ducat -the faggots that were to consume you to -ashes; and all your relations in their gala -robes would shout their hallelujahs to -your dying screams of torture. Do you -know that the Christianity of these countries -is diametrically opposite to the Christianity -of that world of which you caught -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_280" title="280"> </a> -a gleam, and which you may see recorded -in the pages of your Bible, if you are permitted -to read it?”</p> - -<p>“Isidora wept, and confessed she had -not found Christianity what she had at -first believed it; but with her wild and -eccentric ingenuousness, she accused herself -the next moment of her confession,—and -she added, “I am so ignorant in -this new world,—I have so much to learn,—my -senses so often deceive me,—and -my habits and perceptions so different -from what they ought to be—I mean from -what those around me are—that I should -not speak or think but as I am taught. -Perhaps, after some years of instruction -and suffering, I may be able to discover -that happiness cannot exist in this new -world, and Christianity is not so remote -from Catholicism as it appears to me now.”—“And -have you not found yourself happy -in this new world of intelligence and -luxury?” said Melmoth, in a tone of -involuntary softness. “I have at times.”—“What -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_281" title="281"> </a> -times?”—“When the weary -day was over, and my dreams bore me -back to that island of enchantment. Sleep -is to me like some bark rowed by visionary -pilots, that wafts me to shores of beauty -and blessedness,—and all night long I -revel in my dreams with spirits. Again -I live among flowers and odours—a thousand -voices sing to me from the brooks -and the breezes—the air is all alive and -eloquent with invisible melodists—I walk -amid a breathing atmosphere, and living -and loving inanimation—blossoms that -shed themselves beneath my steps—and -streams that tremble to kiss my feet, and -then retire; and then return again, wasting -themselves in fondness before me, and -touching me, as my lips press the holy -images they have taught me to worship -here!”—“Does no other image ever visit -your dreams, Immalee?”—“I need not -tell you,” said Isidora, with that singular -mixture of natural firmness, and partial -obscuration of intellect,—the combined result -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_282" title="282"> </a> -of her original and native character, -and extraordinary circumstances of her -early existence—“I need not tell you—you -know you are with me every night!”—“Me?”—“Yes, -you; you are for ever -in that canoe that bears me to the Indian -isle—you gaze on me, but your expression -is so changed, that I dare not speak -to you—we fly over the seas in a moment, -but you are for ever at the helm, though -you never land—the moment the paradise -isle appears, you disappear; and as we return, -the ocean is all dark, and our course -is as dark and swift as the storm that -sweeps them—you look at me, but never -speak—Oh yes! you are with me every -night!”—“But, Immalee, these are all -dreams—idle dreams. <em>I</em> row you over the -Indian seas from Spain!—this is all a vision -of your imagination.”—“Is it a dream -that I see you now?” said Isidora—“is it -a dream that I talk with you?—Tell me, -for my senses are bewildered; and it appears -to me no less strange, that you should -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_283" title="283"> </a> -be here in Spain, than that I should be in -my native island. Alas! in the life that -I now lead, dreams have become realities, -and realities seem only like dreams. How -is it you are here, if indeed you are here?—how -is it that you have wandered so far -to see me? How many oceans you must -have crossed, how many isles you must -have seen, and none like that where I first -beheld you! But is it you indeed I behold? -I thought I saw you last night, -but I had rather trust even my dreams -than my senses. I believed you only a -visitor of that isle of visions, and a haunter -of the visions that recall it—but are -you in truth a living being, and one whom -I may hope to behold in this land of cold -realities and Christian horrors?”—“Beautiful -Immalee, or Isidora, or whatever other -name your Indian worshippers, or Christian -god-fathers and god-mothers, have -called you by, I pray you listen to me, -while I expound a few mysteries to you.” -And Melmoth, as he spoke, flung himself -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_284" title="284"> </a> -on a bed of hyacinths and tulips that displayed -their glowing flowers, and sent up -their odorous breath right under Isidora’s -casement. “Oh you will destroy my -flowers!” cried she, while a reminiscence -of her former picturesque existence, when -flowers were the companions alike of her -imagination and her pure heart, awoke -her exclamation. “It is my vocation—I -pray you pardon me!” said Melmoth, as -he basked on the crushed flowers, and -darted his withering sneer and scowling -glance at Isidora. “I am commissioned -to trample on and bruise every -flower in the natural and moral world—hyacinths, -hearts, and bagatelles of -that kind, just as they occur. And now, -Donna Isidora, with as long an <i lang="la" xml:lang="la">et cetera</i> -as you or your sponsors could wish, and -with no possible offence to the herald, here -I am to-night—and where I shall be to-morrow -night, depends on your choice. -I would as soon be on the Indian seas, -where your dreams send me rowing every -night, or crashing through the ice near -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_285" title="285"> </a> -the Poles, or ploughing with my naked -corse, (if corses have feeling), through -the billows of that ocean where I must -one day (a day that has neither sun or -moon, neither commencement or termination), -plough forever, and reap despair!”—“Hush!—hush!—Oh -forbear such horrid -sounds! Are you indeed he whom I saw in -the isle? Are you he, inwoven ever since -that moment with my prayers, my hopes, -my heart? Are you that being upon whom -hope subsisted, when life itself was failing? -On my <ins title="passsage">passage</ins> to this Christian land, I -suffered much. I was so ill you would -have pitied me—the clothes they put on -me—the language they made me speak—the -religion they made me believe—the -country they brought me to—Oh <em>you</em>!—you -alone!—the thought—the image of you, -could alone have supported me! I loved, -and to love is to live. Amid the disruption -of every natural tie,—amid the loss of -that delicious existence which seems a -dream, and which still fills my dreams, -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_286" title="286"> </a> -and makes sleep a second existence,—I have -thought of you—have dreamt of you—have -loved you!”—“Loved me?—no being yet -loved me but pledged me in tears.”—“And -have I not wept?” said Isidora—“believe -these tears—they are not the first I have shed, -nor I fear will be the last, since I owe the -first to you.” And she wept as she spoke. -“Well,” said the wanderer, with a bitter -and self-satirizing laugh, “I shall be persuaded -at last that I am “a marvellous proper -man.” Well, if it must be so, happy -man be his dole! And when shall the auspicious -day, beautiful Immalee, <em>still</em> beautiful -Isidora, in spite of your Christian -name, (to which I have a most anti-catholic -objection)—when shall that bright day -dawn on your long slumbering eye-lashes, -and waken them with kisses, and beams, -and light, and love, and all the paraphernalia -with which folly arrays misery previous -to their union—that glittering and -empoisoned drapery that well resembles -what of old Dejanira sent to her husband—when -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_287" title="287"> </a> -shall the day of bliss be?” And -he laughed with that horrible convulsion -that mingles the expression of levity with -that of despair, and leaves the listener no -doubt whether there is more despair in -laughter, or more laughter in despair. “I -understand you not,” said the pure and timid -Isidora; “and if you would not terrify -me to madness, laugh no more—no -more, at least, in that fearful way!”—“<em>I -cannot weep</em>,” said Melmoth, fixing on her -his dry and burning eyes, strikingly visible -in the moonlight; “the fountain of -tears has been long dried up within me, -like that of every other human blessing.”—“I -can weep for both,” said Isidora, “if -that be all.” And her tears flowed fast, as -much from memory as from grief—and -when those sources are united, God and -the sufferer only know how fast and bitterly -they fall. “Reserve them for our -nuptial hour, my lovely bride,” said Melmoth -to himself; “you will have occasion -for them then.”</p> - -<p><a class="pagenum" name="Page_288" title="288"> </a>“There was a custom then, however -indelicate and repulsive it may sound to -modern ears, for ladies who were doubtful -of the intentions of their lovers to demand -of them the proof of their purity and honour, -by requiring an appeal to their family, -and a solemn union under the sanction -of the church. Perhaps there was -more genuine spirit of truth and chastity -in this, than in all the ambiguous flirtation -that is carried on with an ill-understood -and mysterious dependence on principles -that have never been defined, and -fidelity that has never been removed. -When the lady in the Italian tragedy<a name="FootnoteMarker_22" href="#Footnote_22" class="footnote-marker">(22)</a> -asks her lover, almost at their first interview, -if his intentions are honourable, and -requires, as the proof of their being so, -that he shall espouse her immediately, -does she not utter a language more unsophisticated, -more intelligible, more <em>heartedly</em> -pure, than all the romantic and incredible -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_289" title="289"> </a> -reliance that other females are -supposed to place in the volatility of impulse,—in -that wild and extemporaneous -feeling,—that “house on the sands,”—which -never has its foundation in the immoveable -depths of the heart. Yielding -to this feeling, Isidora, in a voice that faultered -at its own accents, murmured, “If -you love me, seek me no more clandestinely. -My mother is good, though she is -austere—my brother is kind, though he -is passionate—my father—I have never -seen him! I know not what to say, but -if he be <em>my</em> father, he will love you. Meet -me in their presence, and I will no longer -feel pain and shame mingled with the delight -of seeing you. Invoke the sanction -of the church, and then, perhaps,”<span style="white-space: nowrap;">——</span> -“Perhaps!” retorted Melmoth; “You -have learned the European ‘perhaps!’—the -art of suspending the meaning of an -emphatic word—of affecting to draw the -curtain of the heart at the moment you -drop its folds closer and closer—of bidding -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_290" title="290"> </a> -us despair at the moment you intend we -should feel hope!”—“Oh no!—no!” answered -the innocent being; “I am <em>truth</em>. -I am Immalee when I speak to you,—though -to all others in this country, -which they call Christian, I am Isidora. -When I loved you first, I had only one -heart to consult,—now there are many, -and some who have not hearts like mine. -But if you love me, you can bend to them -as I have done—you can love their God, -their home, their hopes, and their country. -Even with <em>you</em> I could not be happy, unless -you adored the cross to which your -hand first pointed my wandering sight, -and the religion which you reluctantly -confessed was the most beautiful and beneficent -on earth.”—“Did I confess that?” -echoed Melmoth; “It must have been -<em>reluctantly</em> indeed. Beautiful Immalee! -I am a convert to you;” and he stifled a -Satanic laugh as he spoke; “to your new -religion, and your beauty, and your Spanish -birth and nomenclature, and every -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_291" title="291"> </a> -thing that you would wish. I will incontinently -wait on your pious mother, and -angry brother, and all your relatives, testy, -proud, and ridiculous as they may be. I -will encounter the starched ruffs, and rustling -manteaus, and whale-boned fardingales -of the females, from your good mother -down to the oldest duenna who sits -spectacled, and armed with bobbin, on her -inaccessible and untempted sopha; and the -twirled whiskers, plumed hats, and shouldered -capas of all your male relatives. -And I will drink chocolate, and strut -among them; and when they refer me to -your mustachoed man of law, with his -thread-bare cloke of black velvet over his -shoulder, his long quill in his hand, and -his soul in three sheets of wide-spread -parchment, I will dower you in the most -ample territory ever settled on a bride.”—“Oh -let it be, then, in that land of music -and sunshine where we first met! One -spot where I might set my foot amid its -flowers, is worth all the cultivated earth -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_292" title="292"> </a> -of Europe!” said Isidora.—“No!—it shall -be in a territory with which your bearded -men of law are far better acquainted, and -which even your pious mother and proud -family must acknowledge my claim to, -when they shall hear it asserted and explained. -Perchance they may be joint-tenants -with <em>me</em> there; and yet (strange -to say!) they will never litigate my exclusive -title to possession.”—“I understand -nothing of this,” said Isidora; “but I -feel I am transgressing the decorums of -a Spanish female and a Christian, in holding -this conference with you any longer. If -you think as you once thought,—if you -feel as <em>I</em> must feel for ever,—there needs -not this discussion, which only perplexes -and terrifies. What have I to do with -this territory of which you speak? That -<em>you</em> are its possessor, is its only value -in my eyes!”—“What have you -to do with it?” repeated Melmoth; “Oh, -you know not how much you may have -to do with it and me yet! In other -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_293" title="293"> </a> -cases, the possession of the territory is the -security for the man,—but here the man -is the security for the everlasting possession -of the territory. Mine heirs must inherit -it for ever and ever, if they hold by -my tenure. Listen to me, beautiful Immalee, -or Christian, or whatever other -name you choose to be called by! Nature, -your first sponsor, baptized you with the -dews of Indian roses—your Christian sponsors, -of course, spared not water, salt, or -oil, to wash away the stain of nature from -your regenerated frame—and your last -sponsor, if you will submit to the rite, will -anoint you with a new chrism. But of -that hereafter. Listen to me while I announce -to you the wealth, the population, -the magnificence of that region to which -I will endower you. The rulers of the -earth are there—all of them. There be -the heroes, and the sovereigns, and the tyrants. -There are their riches, and pomp, -and power—Oh what a glorious accumulation!—and -they have thrones, and -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_294" title="294"> </a> -crowns, and pedestals, and trophies of -fire, that burn for ever and ever, and -the light of their glory blazes eternally. -There are all you read of in story, -your Alexanders and Cæsars, your Ptolemies -and Pharaohs. There be the princes -of the East, the Nimrods, the Belshazzars, -and the Holoferneses of their day. -There are the princes of the North, the -Odins, the Attilas, (named by your church -the scourge of God), the Alarics, and all -those nameless and name-undeserving barbarians, -who, under various titles and -claims, ravaged and ruined the earth they -came to conquer. There be the sovereigns -of the South, and East, and West, -the Mahommedans, the Caliphs, the Saracens, -the Moors, with all their gorgeous -pretensions and ornaments—the crescent, -the Koran, and the horse-tail—the trump, -the gong, and the atabal, (or to suit it to -your Christianised ear, lovely Neophyte!) -‘the noise of the captains, and the shoutings.’ -There be also those triple-crowned -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_295" title="295"> </a> -chieftains of the West, who hide their -shorn heads under a diadem, and for every -hair they shave, demand the life of a sovereign—who, -pretending to humility, trample -on power—whose title is, Servant of servants—and -whose claim and recognizance -is, Lord of lords. Oh! you will not lack -company in that bright region, for bright -it will be!—and what matter whether its -light be borrowed from the gleam of sulphur, -or the trembling light of the moon, -by which I see you look so pale?”—“I -look pale!” said Isidora gasping; “I <em>feel</em> -pale! I know not the meaning of your -words, but I know it must be horrible. -Speak no more of that region, with its -pride, its wickedness, and its splendour! -I am willing to follow you to deserts, to -solitudes, which human step never trod -but yours, and where mine shall trace, -with sole fidelity, the print of yours. Amid -loneliness I was born; amid loneliness -I could die. Let me but, wherever -I live, and whenever I die, be yours!—and -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_296" title="296"> </a> -for the place, it matters not, let it be -even”<span style="white-space: nowrap;">——</span> and she shivered involuntarily -as she spoke; “Let it be even”<span style="white-space: nowrap;">——</span> -“Even—<em>where</em>?” asked Melmoth, while -a wild feeling of triumph in the devotedness -of this unfortunate female, and of -horror at the destination which she was -unconsciously imprecating on herself, mingled -in the question. “Even where you -are to be,” answered the devoted Isidora, -“let me be there! and there I must be -happy, as in the isle of flowers and sun-light, -where I first beheld you. Oh! there -are no flowers so balmy and roseate as -those that once blew there! There are -no waters so musical, or breezes so fragrant, -as those that I listened to and inhaled, -when I thought that they repeated -to me the echo of your steps, or the melody -of your voice—that <em>human music</em> the -first I ever heard, and which, when I cease -to <ins title="hear’">hear”</ins><span style="white-space: nowrap;">——</span> “You will hear much better!” -interrupted Melmoth; “the voices -of ten thousand—ten millions of spirits—beings -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_297" title="297"> </a> -whose tones are immortal, without -cessation, without pause, without interval!”—“Oh -that will be glorious!” said -Isidora, clasping her hands; “the only -language I have learned in this new world -worth speaking, is the language of music. -I caught some imperfect sounds from birds -in my first world, but in my second world -they taught me music; and the misery -they have taught me, hardly makes a balance -against that new and delicious language.”—“But -think,” rejoined Melmoth, -“if your taste for music be indeed so exquisite, -how it will be indulged, how it -will be enlarged, in hearing those voices -accompanied and re-echoed by the thunders -of ten thousand billows of fire, lashing -against rocks which eternal despair has -turned into adamant! They talk of the -music of the spheres!—Dream of the music -of those living orbs turning on their -axis of fire for ever and ever, and ever -singing as they shine, like your brethren -the Christians, who had the honour to illuminate -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_298" title="298"> </a> -Nero’s garden in Rome on a rejoicing -night.”—“You make me tremble!”—“Tremble!—a -strange effect of fire. -Fie! what a coyness is this! I have promised, -on your arrival at your new territory, -all that is mighty and magnificent,—all -that is splendid and voluptuous—the -sovereign and the sensualist—the inebriated -monarch and the pampered slave—the -bed of roses and the canopy of fire!”—“And -is this the home to which you invite -me?”—“It is—it is. Come, and be -mine!—myriads of voices summon you—hear -and obey them! Their voices thunder -in the echoes of mine—their fires flash -from my eyes, and blaze in my heart. -Hear me, Isidora, my beloved, hear me! -I woo you in earnest, and for ever! Oh -how trivial are the ties by which mortal -lovers are bound, compared to those in -which you and I shall be bound to eternity! -Fear not the want of a numerous -and splendid society. I have enumerated -sovereigns, and pontiffs, and heroes,—and -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_299" title="299"> </a> -if you should condescend to remember the -trivial amusements of your present sejour, -you will have enough to revive its associations. -You love music, and doubtless you -will have most of the musicians who have -chromatized since the first essays of Tubal -Cain to Lully, who beat himself to death -at one of his own oratorios, or operas, I -don’t know which. They will have a singular -accompaniment—the eternal roar of -a sea of fire makes a profound bass to the -chorus of millions of singers in torture!”—“What -is the meaning of this horrible description?” -said the trembling Isidora; -“your words are riddles to me. Do you -jest with me for the sake of tormenting, -or of laughing at me?”—“Laughing!” -repeated her wild visitor; “that is an exquisite -hint—<i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">vive la bagatelle!</i> Let us -laugh for ever!—we shall have enough to -keep us in countenance. There will be -all that ever have dared to laugh on earth—the -singers, the dancers, the gay, the -voluptuous, the brilliant, the beloved—all -who have ever dared to mistake their destiny, -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_300" title="300"> </a> -so far as to imagine that enjoyment -was not a crime, or that a smile was not -an infringement of their duty as sufferers. -All such must expiate their error under -circumstances which will probably compel -the most inveterate disciple of Democritus, -the most <em>inextinguishable laugher</em> -among them, to allow that <em>there</em>, at least, -‘laughter is madness.’”—“I do not understand -you,” said Isidora, listening to -him with that sinking of the heart which -is produced by a combined and painful -feeling of ignorance and terror. “Not -understand me?” repeated Melmoth, with -that sarcastic frigidity of countenance -which frightfully contrasted the burning -intelligence of his eyes, that seemed like -the fires of a volcano bursting out amid -masses of snow heaped up to its very edge; -“not understand me!—are you not, then, -fond of music?”—“I am.”—“Of dancing, -too, my graceful, beautiful love?”—“I -<em>was</em>.”—“What is the meaning of the different -emphasis you give to those answers?”—“I -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_301" title="301"> </a> -love music—I must love it for -ever—it is the language of recollection. -A single strain of it wafts me back to -the dreamy blessedness, the enchanted -existence, of my own—own isle. Of -dancing I cannot say so much. I have -<em>learnt</em> dancing—but I <em>felt</em> music. I shall -never forget the hour when I heard it for -the first time, and imagined it was the -language which Christians spoke to each -other. I have heard them speak a different -language since.”—“Doubtless their -language is not always melody, particularly -when they address each other on -controverted points in religion. Indeed, -I can conceive nothing less a-kin to harmony -than the debate of a Dominican and -Franciscan on the respective efficacy of the -cowl of the order, to ascertain the salvation -of him who happens to die in it. But -have you no other reason for <em>being</em> fond of -music, and for only <em>having been</em> fond of -dancing? Nay, let me have ‘your most -exquisite reason.’”</p> - -<p><a class="pagenum" name="Page_302" title="302"> </a>“It seemed as if this unhappy being -was impelled by his ineffable destiny -to deride the misery he inflicted, -in proportion to its bitterness. His sarcastic -levity bore a direct and fearful proportion -to his despair. Perhaps this is -also the case in circumstances and characters -less atrocious. A mirth which is not -gaiety is often the mask which hides the -convulsed and distorted features of agony—and -laughter, which never yet was the -expression of rapture, has often been the -only intelligible language of madness and -misery. Extacy only smiles,—despair -laughs. It seemed, too, as if no keenness -of ironical insult, no menace of portentous -darkness, had power to revolt the -feelings, or alarm the apprehensions, of -the devoted being to whom they were addressed. -Her “most exquisite reasons,” -demanded in a tone of ruthless irony, -were given in one whose exquisite and -tender melody seemed still to retain the -modulation on which its first sounds had -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_303" title="303"> </a> -been formed,—that of the song of birds, -mingled with the murmur of waters.</p> - -<p>“I love music, because when I hear it -I think of you. I have ceased to love -dancing, though I was at first intoxicated -with it, because, when dancing, I have -sometimes forgot you. When I listen to -music, your image floats on every note,—I -hear you in every sound. The most inarticulate -murmurs that I produce on my -guitar (for I am very ignorant) are like a -spell of melody that raises a form indescribable—not -you, but <em>my idea of you</em>. In -your presence, though that seems necessary -to my existence, I have never felt -that exquisite delight that I have experienced -in that of your image, when music -has called it up from the recesses of my -heart. Music seems to me like the voice -of religion summoning to remember and -worship the God of my heart. Dancing -appears like a momentary apostasy, almost -a profanation.”—“That, indeed, is a sweet -and subtle reason,” answered Melmoth, -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_304" title="304"> </a> -“and one that, of course, has but one failure,—that -of not being sufficiently flattering -to the hearer. And so my image -floats on the rich and tremulous waves of -melody one moment, like a god of the -overflowing billows of music, triumphing -in their swells, and graceful even in their -falls,—and the next moment appears, like -the dancing demon of your operas, grinning -at you between the brilliant movement -of your fandangoes, and flinging the -withering foam of his black and convulsed -lips into the cup where you pledge at your -banquetting. Well—dancing—music—let -them go together! It seems that my -image is equally mischievous in both—in -one you are tortured by reminiscence, and -in the other by remorse. Suppose that -image is withdrawn from you for ever,—suppose -that it were possible to break the -tie that unites us, and whose vision has -entered into the soul of both.”—“You -may suppose it,” said Isidora, with maiden -pride and tender grief blended in her -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_305" title="305"> </a> -voice; “and if you do, believe that I will -try to suppose it too; the effort will not -cost much,—nothing but—my life!”</p> - -<p>“As Melmoth beheld this blessed and -beautiful being, once so refined amid nature, -and now so natural amid refinement, -still possessing all the soft luxuriance of -her first angelic nature, amid the artificial -atmosphere where her sweets were uninhaled, -and her brilliant tints doomed to -wither unappreciated,—where her pure -and sublime devotedness of heart was -doomed to beat like a wave against a -rock,—exhaust its murmurs,—and expire;—As -he felt this, and gazed on her, -he cursed himself; and then, with the -selfishness of hopeless misery, he felt that -the curse might, by dividing it, be diminished.</p> - -<p>“Isidora!” he whispered in the softest -tones he could assume, approaching the -casement, at which his pale and beautiful -victim stood; “Isidora! will you then be -mine?”—“What shall I say?” said Isidora; -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_306" title="306"> </a> -“if love requires the answer, I have -said enough; if only vanity, I have said -too much.”—“Vanity! beautiful trifler, -you know not what you say; the accusing -angel himself might blot out that article -from the catalogue of my sins. It is one -of my prohibited and impossible offences; -it is an earthly feeling, and therefore one -which I can neither participate or enjoy. -Certain it is that I feel some share of human -pride at this moment.”—“Pride! at -what? Since I have known you, I have -felt no pride but that of supreme devotedness,—that -self-annihilating pride which -renders the victim prouder of its wreath, -than the sacrificer of his office.”—“But I -feel another pride,” answered Melmoth, -and in a proud tone he spoke it,—“a -pride, which, like that of the storm that -visited the ancient cities, whose destruction -you may have read of, while it -blasts, withers, and encrusts paintings, -gems, music, and festivity, grasping them -in its talons of annihilation, exclaims, -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_307" title="307"> </a> -Perish to all the world, perhaps beyond -the period of its existence, but live to me -in darkness and in corruption! Preserve -all the exquisite modulation of your forms! -all the indestructible brilliancy of your colouring!—but -preserve it for me alone!—me, -the single, pulseless, eyeless, heartless -embracer of an unfertile bride,—the brooder -over the dark and unproductive nest of -eternal sterility,—the mountain whose lava -of internal fire has stifled, and indurated, -and inclosed for ever, all that was the -joy of earth, the felicity of life, and the -hope of futurity!”</p> - -<p>“As he spoke, his expression was at -once so convulsed and so derisive, so indicative -of malignity and levity, so thrilling -to the heart, while it withered every fibre -it touched and wrung, that Isidora, with -all her innocent and helpless devotedness, -could not avoid shuddering before this -fearful being, while, in trembling and -unappeaseable solicitude, she demanded, -“Will you then be mine? Or what am -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_308" title="308"> </a> -I to understand from your terrible words? -Alas! <em>my</em> heart has never enveloped itself -in mysteries—never has the light of its -truth burst forth amid the thunderings -and burnings in which you have issued -the law of my destiny.”—“Will you then -be mine, Isidora?”—“Consult my parents. -Wed me by the rites, and in the face of -the church, of which I am an unworthy -member, and I will be yours for ever.”—“<em>For -ever!</em>” repeated Melmoth; “well-spoken, -<em>my</em> bride. You will then be mine -<em>for ever</em>?—will you, Isidora?”—“Yes!—yes!—I -have said so. But the sun is about -to rise, I feel the increasing perfume -of the orange blossoms, and the coolness -of the morning air. Begone—I have staid -too long here—the domestics may be about, -and observe you—begone, I implore you.”—“I -go—but one word—for to me the -rising of the sun, and the appearance of -your domestics, and every thing in -heaven above, and earth beneath, is -equally unimportant. Let the sun stay -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_309" title="309"> </a> -below the horizon and wait for me. -<em>You are mine!</em>”—“Yes, I am yours; -but you must solicit my family.”—“Oh, -doubtless!—solicitation is so congenial -to my habits.”—“And”<span style="white-space: nowrap;">——</span> “Well, -what?—you hesitate.”—“I hesitate,” said -the ingenuous and timid Isidora, “because”<span style="white-space: nowrap;">——</span> -“Well?”—“Because,” she -added, bursting into tears, “those with -whom you speak will not utter to God -language like mine. They will speak to -you of wealth and dower; they will inquire -about that region where you have -told me your rich and wide possessions are -held; and should they ask me of them, -how shall I answer?”</p> - -<p>“At these words, Melmoth approached -as close as possible to the casement, and -uttered a certain word which Isidora did -not at first appear to hear, or understand—trembling -she repeated her request. In -a still lower tone the answer was returned. -Incredulous, and hoping that the answer -had deceived her, she again repeated her -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_310" title="310"> </a> -petition. A withering monosyllable, not -to be told, thundered in her ears,—and she -shrieked as she closed the casement. Alas! -the casement only shut out the form -of the stranger—not his image.</p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 id="Chapter_XXI">CHAPTER <ins title="XIX">XXI</ins>.<a class="pagenum" name="Page_311" title="311"> </a></h2> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="line">He saw the eternal fire that keeps,<br /></div> -<div class="line">In the unfathomable deeps,<br /></div> -<div class="line">Its power for ever, and made a sign<br /></div> -<div class="line">To the morning prince divine;<br /></div> -<div class="line">Who came across the sulphurous flood,<br /></div> -<div class="line">Obedient to the master-call,<br /></div> -<div class="line">And in angel-beauty stood,<br /></div> -<div class="line">High on his star-lit pedestal.<br /></div> -</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="drop-cap"><span class="small-caps">“In</span> this part of the manuscript, which -I read in the vault of Adonijah the Jew,” -said Monçada, continuing his narrative, -“there were several pages destroyed, and -the contents of many following wholly -obliterated—nor could Adonijah supply -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_312" title="312"> </a> -the deficiency. From the next pages that -were legible, it appeared that Isidora imprudently -continued to permit her mysterious -visitor to frequent the garden at -night, and to converse with him from the -casement, though unable to prevail on him -to declare himself to her family, and perhaps -conscious that his declaration would -not be too favourably received. Such, at -least, appeared to be the meaning of the -next lines I could decypher.</p> - -<p>“She had renewed, in these nightly conferences, -her former visionary existence. -Her whole day was but a long thought of -the hour at which she expected to see him. -In the day-time she was silent, pensive, -abstracted, feeding on thought—with the -evening her spirits perceptibly though -softly rose, like those of one who has a secret -and incommunicable store of delight; -and her mind became like that flower that -unfolds its leaves, and diffuses its odours, -only on the approach of night.</p> - -<p>“The season favoured this fatal delusion. -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_313" title="313"> </a> -It was that rage of summer when -we begin to respire only towards evening, -and the balmy and brilliant night is our -day. The day itself is passed in a languid -and feverish doze. At night alone -she existed,—at her moon-lit casement -alone she breathed freely; and never did -the moonlight fall on a lovelier form, or -gild a more angelic brow, or gleam on eyes -that returned more pure and congenial -rays. The mutual and friendly light seemed -like the correspondence of spirits who -glided on the alternate beams, and, passing -from the glow of the planet to the glory -of a mortal eye, felt that to reside in either -was heaven. * * * -* * * * *</p> - -<p>“She lingered at that casement till she -imagined that the clipped and artificially -straitened treillage of the garden was the -luxuriant and undulating foliage of the -trees of her paradise isle—that the flowers -had the same odour as that of the untrained -and spontaneous roses that once showered -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_314" title="314"> </a> -their leaves under her naked feet—that -the birds sung to her as they had once -done when the vesper-hymn of her pure -heart ascended along with their closing -notes, and formed the holiest and most acceptable -anthem that perhaps ever wooed -the evening-breeze to waft it to heaven.</p> - -<p>“This delusion would soon cease. The -stiff and stern monotony of the parterre, -where even the productions of nature held -their place as if under the constraint of -duty, forced the conviction of its unnatural -regularity on her eye and soul, and she -turned to heaven for relief. Who does -not, even in the first sweet agony of passion? -Then we tell that tale to heaven -which we would not trust to the ear of -mortal—and in the withering hour that -must come to all whose love is only mortal, -we again call on that heaven which we have -intrusted with our secret, to send us back -one bright messenger of consolation on -those thousand rays that its bright, and -cold, and passionless orbs, are for ever -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_315" title="315"> </a> -pouring on the earth as if in mockery. We -ask, but is the petition heard or answered? -We weep, but do not we feel that those -tears are like rain falling on the sea? -<i lang="la" xml:lang="la">Mare infructuosum.</i> No matter. Revelation -assures us there is a period coming, -when all petitions suited to our state shall -be granted, and when “tears shall be -wiped from all eyes.” In revelation, then, -let us trust—in any thing but our own -hearts. But Isidora had not yet learned -that theology of the skies, whose text is, -“Let us go into the house of mourning.” -To her still the night was day, and her -sun was the “moon walking in its brightness.” -When she beheld it, the recollections -of the isle rushed on her heart like a -flood; and a figure soon appeared to recal -and to realize them.</p> - -<p>“That figure appeared to her every -night without disturbance or interruption; -and though her knowledge of the severe -restraint and regularity of the household -caused her some surprise at the facility -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_316" title="316"> </a> -with which Melmoth apparently defied -both, and visited the garden every night, -yet such was the influence of her former -dream-like and romantic existence, that -his continued presence, under circumstances -so extraordinary, never drew from her -a question with regard to the means by -which he was enabled to surmount difficulties -insurmountable to all others.</p> - -<p>“There were, indeed, two extraordinary -circumstances attendant on these meetings. -Though seeing each other again in Spain, -after an interval of three years elapsing -since they had parted on the shores of an -isle in the Indian sea, neither had ever inquired -what circumstances could have led -to a meeting so unexpected and extraordinary. -On Isidora’s part this incurious -feeling was easily accounted for. Her former -existence had been one of such a fabulous -and fantastic character, that the improbable -had become familiar to her,—and -the familiar only, improbable. Wonders -were her natural element; and she felt, -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_317" title="317"> </a> -perhaps, less surprised at seeing Melmoth -in Spain, than when she first beheld him -treading the sands of her lonely island. -With Melmoth the cause was different, -though the effect was the same. His destiny -forbid alike curiosity or surprise. -The world could show him no greater -marvel than his own existence; and the -facility with which he himself passed from -region to region, mingling with, yet distinct -from all his species, like a wearied and -uninterested spectator rambling through -the various seats of some vast theatre, -where he knows none of the audience, -would have prevented his feeling astonishment, -had he encountered Isidora on the -summit of the Andes.</p> - -<p>“During a month, through the course -of which she had tacitly permitted these -nightly visits beneath her casement—(at -a distance which indeed might have defied -Spanish jealousy itself to devise matter of -suspicion out of,—the balcony of her window -being nearly fourteen feet above the -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_318" title="318"> </a> -level of the garden, where Melmoth stood)—during -this month, Isidora rapidly, but -imperceptibly, graduated through those -stages of feeling which all who love have -alike experienced, whether the stream of -passion be smooth or obstructed. In the -first, she was full of anxiety to speak and -to listen, to hear and to be heard. She -had all the wonders of her new existence -to relate; and perhaps that indefinite and -unselfish hope of magnifying herself in the -eyes of him she loved, which induces us -in our first encounter to display all the -eloquence, all the powers, all the attractions -we possess, not with the pride of a -competitor, but with the humiliation of a -victim. The conquered city displays all -its wealth in hopes of propitiating the conqueror. -It decorates him with all its spoils, -and feels prouder to behold him arrayed -in them, than when she wore them in triumph -herself. That is the first bright -hour of excitement, of trembling, but -hopeful and felicitous anxiety. Then we -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_319" title="319"> </a> -think we never can display enough of talent, -of imagination, of all that can interest, -of all that can dazzle. We pride ourselves -in the homage we receive from society, -from the hope of sacrificing that homage -to our beloved—we feel a pure and -almost spiritualized delight in our own -praises, from imagining they render us -more worthy of meriting <em>his</em>, from whom -we have received the <em>grace</em> of love to deserve -them—we glorify ourselves, that we -may be enabled to render back the glory -to him from whom we received it, and for -whom we have kept it in trust, only to -tender it back with that rich and accumulated -interest of the heart, of which we would -pay the uttermost farthing, if the payment -exacted the last vibration of its fibres,—the -last drop of its blood. No saint who ever -viewed a miracle performed by himself -with a holy and self-annihilating abstraction -from <em>seity</em>, has perhaps felt a purer -sentiment of perfect devotedness, than the -female who, in her first hours of love, -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_320" title="320"> </a> -offers, at the feet of her worshipped one, -the brilliant wreath of music, painting, -and eloquence,—and only hopes, with an -unuttered sigh, that the rose of love will -not be unnoticed in the garland.</p> - -<p>“Oh! how delicious it is to such a being -(and such was Isidora) to touch her -harp amid crowds, and watch, when the -noisy and tasteless bravoes have ceased, for -the heart-drawn sigh of <em>the one</em>, to whom -alone her soul, not her fingers, have played,—and -whose single sigh is heard, and -heard alone, amid the plaudits of thousands! -Yet how delicious to her to whisper -to herself, “I heard his sigh, but he -has heard the applause!”</p> - -<p>“And when she glides through the -dance, and in touching, with easy and accustomed -grace, the hands of many, she -feels there is but one hand whose touch -she can recognize; and, waiting for its -thrilling and life-like vibration, moves on -like a statue, cold and graceful, till the -Pygmalion-touch warms her into woman, -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_321" title="321"> </a> -and the marble melts into flesh under the -hands of the resistless moulder. And her -movements betray, at that moment, the -unwonted and half-unconscious impulses -of that fair image to which love had given -life, and who luxuriated in the vivid and -newly-tried enjoyment of that animation -which the passion of her lover had breathed -into her frame. And when the splendid -portfolio is displayed, or the richly-wrought -tapestry expanded by outstretched -arms, and cavaliers gaze, and ladies envy, -and every eye is busy in examination, -and every tongue loud in praise, just in -the inverted proportion of the ability of -the one to scrutinize with accuracy, and -the other to applaud with taste—then to -throw round the secret silent glance, that -searches for that eye whose light alone, to -her intoxicated gaze, contains all judgment, -all taste, all feeling—for that lip -whose very censure would be dearer than -the applause of a world!—To hear, with -soft and submissive tranquillity, censure -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_322" title="322"> </a> -and remark, praise and comment, but to -turn for ever the appealing look to one -who alone can understand, and whose -swiftly-answering glance can alone reward -it!—This—this had been Isidora’s hope. -Even in the isle where he first saw her in -the infancy of her intellect, she had felt -the consciousness of superior powers, which -were then her solace, not her pride. Her -value for herself rose with her devotion to -him. Her passion became her pride; and -the enlarged resources of her mind, (for -Christianity under its most corrupt form -enlarges every mind), made her at first believe, -that to behold her admired as she -was for her loveliness, her talents, and her -wealth, would compel this proudest and -most eccentric of beings to prostrate himself -before her, or at least to acknowledge -the power of those acquirements which -she had so painfully been arrived at the -knowledge of, since her involuntary introduction -into European society.</p> - -<p>“This had been her hope during the -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_323" title="323"> </a> -earlier period of his visits; but innocent -and flattering to its object as it was, she -was disappointed. To Melmoth “nothing -was new under the sun.” Talent -was to him a burden. He knew more -than man could tell him, or woman either. -Accomplishments were a bauble—the rattle -teazed his ear, and he flung it away. -Beauty was a flower he looked on only -to scorn, and touched only to wither. -Wealth and distinction he appreciated -as they deserved, but not with the placid -disdain of the philosopher, or the holy -abstraction of the saint, but with that -“fearful looking for of judgment and -fiery indignation,” to which he believed -their possessors irreversibly devoted, and -to the infliction of which he looked forward -with perhaps a feeling like that of -those executioners who, at the command -of Mithridates, poured the melted ore of -his golden chains down the throat of the -Roman ambassador.</p> - -<p>“With such feelings, and others that -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_324" title="324"> </a> -cannot be told, Melmoth experienced -an indescribable relief from the eternal fire -that was already kindled within him, in -the perfect and unsullied freshness of -what may be called the untrodden verdure -of Immalee’s heart,—for she was Immalee -still to him. She was the Oasis of -his desert—the fountain at which he drank, -and forgot his passage over the burning -sands—and the <em>burning</em> sands to which -his passage must conduct him. He sat -under the shade of the gourd, and forgot -the worm was working at its root;—perhaps -the undying worm that gnawed, and -coiled, and festered in his own heart, might -have made him forget the corrosions of -that he himself had sown in hers.</p> - -<p>“Isidora, before the second week of -their interview, had lowered her pretensions. -She had given up the hope to interest -or to dazzle—that hope which is -twin-born with love in the purest female -heart. She now had concentrated all her -hopes, and all her heart, no longer in the -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_325" title="325"> </a> -ambition <em>to be</em> beloved, but in the sole -wish <em>to</em> love. She no longer alluded to -the enlargement of her faculties, the acquisition -of new powers, and the expansion -and cultivation of her taste. She ceased -to speak—she sought only to listen—then -her wish subsided into that quiet listening -for his form alone, which seemed to transfer -the office of hearing into the eyes, or -rather, to identify both. She saw him -long before he appeared,—and heard him -though he did not speak. They have -been in each other’s presence for the short -hours of a Spanish summer’s night,—Isidora’s -eyes alternately fixed on the sun-like -moon, and on her mysterious lover,—while -he, without uttering a word, leaned -against the pillars of her balcony, or the -trunk of the giant myrtle-tree, which cast -the shade he loved, even by night, over -his portentous expression,—and they never -uttered a word to each other, till the waving -of Isidora’s hand, as the dawn appeared, -was the tacit signal for their parting.</p> - -<p><a class="pagenum" name="Page_326" title="326"> </a>“This is the marked graduation of -profound feeling. Language is no longer -necessary to those whose beating hearts -converse audibly—whose eyes, even by -moonlight, are more intelligible to each -other’s stolen and shadowed glances, than -the broad converse of face to face in the -brightest sunshine—to whom, in the exquisite -inversion of earthly feeling and -habit, darkness is light, and silence eloquence.</p> - -<p>“At their last interviews, Isidora sometimes -spoke,—but it was only to remind -her lover, in a soft and chastened tone, of -a promise which it seems he had at one -time made of disclosing himself to her parents, -and demanding her at their hands. -Something she murmured also of her declining -health—her exhausted spirits—her -breaking heart—the long delay—the hope -deferred—the mysterious meeting; and -while she spoke she wept, but hid her -tears from him.</p> - -<p>“It is thus, Oh God! we are doomed -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_327" title="327"> </a> -(and justly doomed when we fix our hearts -on any thing below thee) to feel those -hearts repelled like the dove who hovered -over the shoreless ocean, and found not a -spot where her foot might rest,—not a green -leaf to bring back in her beak. Oh that the -ark of mercy may open to such souls, and -receive them from that stormy world of -deluge and of wrath, with which they are -unable to contend, and where they can -find no resting-place!</p> - -<p>“Isidora now had arrived at the last -stage of that painful pilgrimage through -which she had been led by a stern and reluctant -guide.</p> - -<p>“In its first, with the innocent and venial -art of woman, she had tried to interest -him by the display of her new acquirements, -without the consciousness that -they were not new to him. The harmony -of civilized society, of which she -was at once weary and proud, was discord -to his ear. He had examined all the -strings that formed this curious but ill-constructed -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_328" title="328"> </a> -instrument, and found them -all false.</p> - -<p>“In the second, she was satisfied with -merely beholding him. His presence -formed the atmosphere of her existence—in -it alone she breathed. She said to herself, -as evening approached, “I shall see -him!”—and the burden of life rolled from -her heart as she internally uttered the -words. The constraint, the gloom, the -monotony of her existence, vanished like -clouds at the sun, or rather like those -clouds assuming such gorgeous and resplendent -colours, that they seemed to -have been painted by the finger of happiness -itself. The brilliant hue diffused itself -over every object of her eye and heart. -Her mother appeared no longer a cold and -gloomy bigot, and even her brother seemed -kind. There was not a tree in the garden -whose foliage was not illumined as by -the light of a setting sun; and the breeze -spoke to her in a voice whose melody was -borrowed from her own heart.</p> - -<p><a class="pagenum" name="Page_329" title="329"> </a>“When at length she saw him,—when -she said to herself, He is there,—she felt as -if all the felicity of earth was comprised in -that single sensation,—at least she felt that -all her own was. She no longer indulged -the wish to attract or to subdue him—absorbed -in his existence, she forgot her own—immersed -in the consciousness of her -own felicity, she lost the wish, or rather -the pride, of <span class="small-caps all-upper">BESTOWING</span> it. In the impassioned -revelry of the heart, she flung the -pearl of existence into the draught in -which she pledged her lover, and saw it -melt away without a sigh. But now she -was beginning to feel, that for this intensity -of feeling, this profound devotedness, -she was entitled at least to an honourable -acknowledgement on the part of her lover; -and that the mysterious delay in which -her existence was wasted, might make that -acknowledgement come perhaps too late. -She expressed this to him; but to these -appeals, (not the least affecting of which had -no language but that of looks), he replied -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_330" title="330"> </a> -only by a profound but uneasy silence, or -by a levity whose wild and frightful sallies -had something in them still more -alarming.</p> - -<p>“At times he appeared even to insult -the heart over which he had triumphed, -and to affect to doubt his conquest with -the air of one who is revelling in its certainty, -and who mocks the captive by asking -“if it is really in chains?”</p> - -<p>“You do not love?” he would say;—“you -cannot love <em>me</em> at least. Love, in -your happy Christian country, must be -the result of cultivated taste,—of harmonized -habits,—of a felicitous congeniality -of pursuits,—of thought, and hopes, and -feelings, that, in the sublime language of -the Jewish poet, (prophet I meant), ‘tell -and certify to each other; and though they -have neither speech or language, a voice is -heard among them.’ You cannot love a -being repulsive in his appearance,—eccentric -in his habits,—wild and unsearchable -in his feelings,—and inaccessible in the -settled purpose of his fearful and fearless -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_331" title="331"> </a> -existence. No,” he added in a melancholy -and decided tone of voice, “you cannot -love me under the circumstances of your -new existence. Once<span style="white-space: nowrap;">——</span>but that is past.—You -are now a baptized daughter of the -Catholic church,—the member of a civilized -community,—the child of a family -that knows not the stranger. What, then, -is there between me and thee, Isidora, or, -as your Fra Jose would phrase it, (if he -knows so much Greek), <span class="greek" lang="grc" xml:lang="grc" title="ti emoi kai soi">τι εμοι και σοι</span>.”—“I -loved you,” answered the Spanish maiden, -speaking in the same pure, firm, and tender -voice in which she had spoken when -she first was the sole goddess of her fairy -and flowery isle; “I loved you before I -was a Christian. They have changed my -creed—but they never can change my -heart. I love you still—I will be yours -for ever! On the shore of the desolate -isle,—from the grated window of my -Christian prison,—I utter the same sounds. -What can woman, what can man, in all -the boasted superiority of his character and -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_332" title="332"> </a> -feeling, (which I have learned only since I -became a Christian, or an European), do -more? You but insult me when you appear -to doubt that feeling, which you may -wish to have analysed, because you do -not experience or cannot comprehend it. -Tell me, then, <em>what it is to love?</em> I defy -all your eloquence, all your sophistry, to -answer the question as truly as I can. If -you would wish to know what is love, inquire -not at the tongue of man, but at the -heart of woman.”—“What is love?” said -Melmoth; “is that the question?”—“You -doubt that I love,” said Isidora—“tell me, -then, what is love?”—“You have imposed -on me a task,” said Melmoth smiling, but -not in mirth, “so congenial to my feelings -and habits of thought, that the execution -will doubtless be inimitable. To -love, beautiful Isidora, is to live in a world -of the heart’s own creation—all whose -forms and colours are as brilliant as they -are deceptive and unreal. To those who -love there is neither day or night, summer -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_333" title="333"> </a> -or winter, society or solitude. They have -but two eras in their delicious but visionary -existence,—and those are thus marked -in the heart’s calendar—<em>presence</em>—<em>absence</em>. -These are the substitutes for all the distinctions -of nature and society. The -world to them contains but one individual,—and -that individual is to them the -world as well as its single inmate. The -atmosphere of his presence is the only air -they can breathe in,—and the light of his -eye the only sun of their creation, in whose -rays they bask and live.”—“Then I love,” -said Isidora internally. “To love,” pursued -Melmoth, “is to live in an existence -of perpetual contradictions—to feel that -absence is insupportable, and yet be doomed -to experience the presence of the object -as almost equally so—to be full of ten -thousand thoughts while he is absent, the -confession of which we dream will render -our next meeting delicious, yet when the -hour of meeting arrives, to feel ourselves, -by a timidity alike oppressive and unaccountable, -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_334" title="334"> </a> -robbed of the power of expressing -one—to be eloquent in his absence, -and dumb in his presence—to watch for -the hour of his return as for the dawn of a -new existence, yet when it arrives, to feel -all those powers suspended which we imagined -it would restore to energy—<em>to be -the statue that meets the sun, but without -the music his presence should draw from -it</em>—to watch for the light of his looks, -as a traveller in the deserts looks for the -rising of the sun; and when it bursts on -our awakened world, to sink fainting under -its overwhelming and intolerable glory, -and almost wish it were night again—this -is love!”—“Then I believe I love,” said -Isidora half audibly. “To feel,” added Melmoth -with increasing energy, “that our -existence is so absorbed in his, that we have -lost all consciousness but of his presence—all -sympathy but of his enjoyments—all -sense of suffering but when he suffers—<em>to -be</em> only because <em>he is</em>—and to have no -other use of being but to devote it to him, -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_335" title="335"> </a> -while our humiliation increases in proportion -to our devotedness; and the lower -you bow before your idol, the prostrations -seem less and less worthy of being the -expression of your devotion,—till you are -only <em>his</em>, when you are not yourself—To -feel that to the sacrifice of yourself, all -other sacrifices are inferior; and in it, -therefore, all other sacrifices must be included. -That she who loves, must remember -no longer her individual existence, -her natural existence—that she -must consider parents, country, nature, -society, religion itself—(you tremble, Immalee—Isidora -I would say)—only as -grains of incense flung on the altar of the -heart, to burn and exhale their sacrificed -odours there.”—“Then I do love,” said -Isidora; and she wept and trembled indeed -at this terrible confession—“for I -have forgot the ties they told me were -natural,—the country of which they said -I was a native. I will renounce, if it -must be so, parents,—country,—the habits -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_336" title="336"> </a> -which I have acquired,—the thoughts -which I have learnt,—the religion which -I<span style="white-space: nowrap;">——</span>Oh no! my God! my Saviour!” she -exclaimed, darting from the casement, and -clinging to the crucifix—“No! I will -never renounce you!—I will never renounce -you!—you will not forsake me in -the hour of death!—you will not desert -me in the moment of trial!—you will not -forsake me at this moment!”</p> - -<p>“By the wax-lights that burned in her -apartment, Melmoth could see her prostrate -before the sacred image. He could -see that devotion of the heart which made -it throb almost visibly in the white and -palpitating bosom—the clasped hands that -seemed imploring aid against that rebellious -heart, whose beatings they vainly -struggled to repress; and then, locked and -upraised, asked forgiveness from heaven -for their fruitless opposition. He could -see the wild but profound devotion with -which she clung to the crucifix,—and he -shuddered to behold it. He never gazed -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_337" title="337"> </a> -on that symbol,—his eyes were immediately -averted;—yet now he looked long -and intently at her as she knelt before it. -He seemed to suspend the diabolical instinct -that governed his existence, and to -view her for the pure pleasure of sight. Her -prostrate figure,—her rich robes that floated -round her like drapery round an inviolate -shrine,—her locks of light streaming -over her naked shoulders,—her small white -hands locked in agony of prayer,—the purity -of expression that seemed to identify -the agent with the employment, and made -one believe they saw not a suppliant, but -the embodied spirit of supplication, and -feel, that lips like those had never held -communion with aught below heaven.—All -this Melmoth beheld; and feeling that -in this he could never participate, he turned -away his head in stern and bitter agony,—and -the moon-beam that met his burning -eye saw no tear there.</p> - -<p>“Had he looked a moment longer, he -might have beheld a change in the expression -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_338" title="338"> </a> -of Isidora too flattering to his pride, -if not to his heart. He might have marked -all that profound and perilous absorption -of the soul, when it is determined to -penetrate the mysteries of love or of religion, -and chuse “whom it will serve”—that -<em>pause</em> on the brink of an abyss, in -which all its energies, its passions, and its -powers, are to be immersed—that pause, -while the balance is trembling (and we -tremble with it) between God and man.</p> - -<p>“In a few moments, Isidora arose from -before the cross. There was more composure, -more elevation in her air. There -was also that air of decision which an unreserved -appeal to the Searcher of hearts -never fails to communicate even to the -weakest of those he has made.</p> - -<p>“Melmoth, returning to his station beneath -the casement, looked on her for some -time with a mixture of compassion and -wonder—feelings that he hasted to repel, -as he eagerly demanded, “What proof -are you ready to give of <em>that</em> love I have -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_339" title="339"> </a> -described—of that which alone deserves -the name?”—“Every proof,” answered -Isidora firmly, “that the most devoted of -the daughters of man can give—my heart -and hand,—my resolution to be yours amid -mystery and grief,—to follow you in -exile and loneliness (if it must be) through -the world!”</p> - -<p>“As she spoke, there was a light in her -eye,—a glow on her brow,—an expansive -and irradiated sublimity around her figure,—that -made it appear like the rare and -glorious vision of the personified union of -passion and purity,—as if those eternal rivals -had agreed to reconcile their claims, -to meet on the confines of their respective -dominions, and had selected the form of -Isidora as the temple in which their league -might be hallowed, and their union consummated—and -never were the opposite -divinities so deliciously lodged. They -forgot their ancient feuds, and agreed to -dwell there for ever.</p> - -<p>“There was a grandeur, too, about her -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_340" title="340"> </a> -slender form, that seemed to announce that -pride of purity,—that confidence in external -weakness, and internal energy,—that -conquest without armour,—that victory -over the victor, which makes the latter blush -at his triumph, and compels him to bow -to the standard of the besieged fortress at -the moment of its surrender. She stood -like a woman devoted, but not humiliated -by her devotion—uniting tenderness with -magnanimity—willing to sacrifice every -thing to her lover, but that which must -lessen the value of the sacrifice in his eyes—willing -to be the victim, but feeling -worthy to be the priestess.</p> - -<p>“Melmoth gazed on her as she stood. -One generous, one human feeling, throbbed -in his veins, and thrilled in his heart. -He saw her in her beauty,—her devotedness,—her -pure and perfect innocence,—her -sole feeling for one who could not, by -the fearful power of his unnatural existence, -feel for mortal being. He turned -aside, and did not weep; or if he did, -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_341" title="341"> </a> -wiped away his tears, as a fiend might do, -with his burning talons, when he sees a -new victim arrive for torture; and, <em>repenting -of his repentance</em>, rends away <em>the -blot</em> of compunction, and arms himself for -his task of renewed infliction.</p> - -<p>“Well, then, Isidora, you will give me -no proof of your love? Is that what I -must understand?”—“Demand,” answered -the innocent and high-souled Isidora, -“any proof that woman ought to give—more -is not in human power—less would -render the proof of no value!”</p> - -<p>“Such was the impression that these -words made on Melmoth, whose heart, -however, plunged in unutterable crimes, -had never been polluted by sensuality, -that he started from the spot where he -stood,—gazed on her for a moment,—and -then exclaimed, “Well! you have given -me proofs of love unquestionable! It -remains for me to give you a proof of -that love which I have described—of -that love which only <em>you</em> could inspire—of -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_342" title="342"> </a> -that love which, under happier -circumstances, I might<span style="white-space: nowrap;">——</span> But no matter—it -is not my business to analyse the -feeling, but to give the proof.” He extended -his arm toward the casement at -which she stood.—“Would you then consent -to unite your destiny with mine? -Would you indeed be mine amid mystery -and sorrow? Would you follow me -from land to sea, and from sea to land,—a -restless, homeless, devoted being,—with -the brand on your brow, and the curse on -your name? Would you indeed <em>be mine</em>?—my -own—my only Immalee?”—“I -would—I will!”—“Then,” answered Melmoth, -“on this spot receive the proof of -my eternal gratitude. On this spot I renounce -your sight!—I disannul your engagement!—I -fly from you for ever!” -And as he spoke, he disappeared.</p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 id="Chapter_XXII">CHAPTER <ins title="XX">XXII</ins>.<a class="pagenum" name="Page_343" title="343"> </a></h2> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="line">I’ll not wed Paris,—Romeo is my husband.<br /></div> -<div class="line right small-caps">Shakespeare.<br /></div> -</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="drop-cap"><span class="small-caps">“Isidora</span> was so accustomed to the wild -exclamations and (to her) unintelligible allusions -of her mysterious lover, that she -felt no unwonted alarm at his singular -language, and abrupt departure. There -was nothing in either more menacing or -formidable than she had often witnessed; -and she recollected, that after these paroxysms, -he often re-appeared in a mood -comparatively tranquil. She felt sustained, -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_344" title="344"> </a> -therefore, by this reflection,—and perhaps -by that mysterious conviction impressed -on the hearts of those who love profoundly—that -passion must always be united -with suffering; and she seemed to hear, -with a kind of melancholy submission to -the fatality of love, that her lot was to -suffer from lips that were sure to verify the -oracle. The disappearance, therefore, of -Melmoth, gave her less surprise than a summons -from her mother a few hours after, -which was delivered in these words: -“Madonna Isidora, your lady-mother desires -your presence in the tapestried chamber—having -received intelligence by a certain -express, which she deems fitting you -should be acquainted withal.”</p> - -<p>“Isidora had been in some degree prepared -for extraordinary intelligence by an -extraordinary bustle in this grave and -quiet household. She had heard steps -passing, and voices resounding, but</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="line">“She wist not what they were,”<br /></div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="no-indent"><a class="pagenum" name="Page_345" title="345"> </a>and thought not of what they meant. She -imagined that her mother might have -some communication to make about some -intricate point of conscience which Fra Jose -had not discussed to her satisfaction, from -which she would make an instant transition -to the levity visible in the mode in -which one attendant damsel arranged her -hair, and the suspected sound of a ghitarra -under the window of another, and then -fly off at a tangent to inquire how the capons -were fed, and why the eggs and Muscadine -had not been duly prepared for Fra -Jose’s supper. Then would she fret about -the family clock not chiming synchronically -with the bells of the neighbouring -church where she performed her devotions. -And finally, she fretted about every thing, -from the fattening of the “pullen,” and -the preparation for the olio, up to the increasing -feuds between the Molinists and -<ins title="Jausenists">Jansenists</ins>, which had already visited Spain, -and the deadly dispute between the Dominican -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_346" title="346"> </a> -and Franciscan orders, relative to -the habit in which it was most effective to -salvation for the dying body of the sinner -to be wrapped. So between her kitchen -and her oratory,—her prayers to the saints, -and her scoldings to her servants,—her devotion -and her anger,—Donna Clara continued -to keep herself and domestics in a -perpetual state of interesting occupation -and gentle excitement.</p> - -<p>“Something of this Isidora expected -on the summons, and she was, therefore, -surprised to see Donna Clara seated at -her writing desk,—a large and fairly written -manuscript of a letter extended before -her,—and to hear words thereafter uttered -thus: “Daughter, I have sent for you, -that you might with me partake of the -pleasure these lines should afford both; -and that you may do so, I desire you to -sit and hear while they are read to you.”</p> - -<p>“Donna Clara, as she uttered these -words, was seated in a monstrous high-backed -chair, of which she actually seemed -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_347" title="347"> </a> -a part, so wooden was her figure, so -moveless her features, so lack-lustre her -eyes.</p> - -<p>“Isidora curtsied low, and sat on one -of the cushions with which the room was -heaped,—while a spectacled duenna, enthroned -on another cushion at the right -hand of Donna Clara, read, with sundry -pauses and some difficulty, the following -letter, which Donna Clara had just received -from her husband, who had landed, not -<em>at Ossuna</em><a name="FootnoteMarker_23" href="#Footnote_23" class="footnote-marker">(23)</a>, but at a real sea-port town -in Spain, and was now on his way to join -his family.</p> - -<blockquote> -<p class="small-caps">“Donna Clara,</p> - -<p class="larger-indent">“It is about a year since I received -your letter advising me of the recovery of -our daughter, whom we believed lost with -her nurse on her voyage to India when an -infant, to which I would sooner have replied, -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_348" title="348"> </a>were I not otherwise hindered by -concerns of business.</p> - -<p>“I would have you understand, that -I rejoice not so much that I have recovered -a daughter, as that heaven hath -regained a soul and a subject, as it were, -<i lang="la" xml:lang="la">e faucibus Draconis—e profundis Barathri</i>—the -which terms Fra Jose will -make plain to your weaker comprehension.</p> - -<p>“I trust that, through the ministry of -that devout servant of God and the church, -she is now become as complete a Catholic -in all points necessary, absolute, doubtful, -or incomprehensible,—formal, essential, -venial, and indispensible, as becomes the -daughter of an old Christian such as I -(though unworthy of that honour) boast -myself to be. Moreover, I expect to find -her, as a Spanish maiden should be, equipped -and accomplished with all the virtues -pertaining to that character, especially -those of discretion and reserve. The -which qualities, as I have always perceived -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_349" title="349"> </a>to reside in you, so I hope you have laboured -to transfer to her,—a transfer by -which the receiver is enriched, and the -giver not impoverished.</p> - -<p>“Finally, as maidens should be rewarded -for their chastity and reserve by being -joined in wedlock with a worthy husband, -so it is the duty of a careful father to provide -such a one for his daughter, that she -do not pass her marriageable age, and sit in -discontent and squalidness at home, as one -overlooked of the other sex. My fatherly -care, therefore, moving me, I shall bring -with me one who is to be her husband, -Don Gregorio Montilla, of whose qualifications -I have not now leisure to speak, -but whom I expect she will receive as becomes -the dutiful daughter, and you as the -obedient wife, of</p> - -<p class="right small-caps">Francisco di Aliaga.”</p> -</blockquote> - -<p>“You have heard your father’s letter, -daughter,” said Donna Clara, placing herself -as in act to speak, “and doubtless sit -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_350" title="350"> </a> -silent in expectation of hearing from me a -rehearsal of the duties pertaining to the -state on which you are so soon to enter, -and which, I take it, are three; that is to -say, obedience, silence, and thriftiness. -And first of the first, which, as I conceive, -divides itself into thirteen heads,”<span style="white-space: nowrap;">——</span> -“Holy saints!” said the duenna under her -breath, “how pale Madonna Isidora grows!”—“First -of the first,” continued Donna -Clara, clearing her throat, elevating her -spectacles with one hand, and fixing three -demonstrative fingers of the other on a -huge clasped volume, containing the life -of St Francis Xavier, that lay on the desk -before her,—“as touching the thirteen -heads into which the first divides itself, -the eleven first, I take it, are the most -profitable—the two last I shall leave you -to be instructed in by your husband. -First, then,”<span style="white-space: nowrap;">——</span> Here she was interrupted -by a slight noise, which did not, -however, draw her attention, till she was -startled by a scream from the duenna, -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_351" title="351"> </a> -who exclaimed, “The Virgin be my protection! -Madonna Isidora has fainted!”</p> - -<p>“Donna Clara lowered her spectacles, -glanced at the figure of her daughter, who -had fallen from her cushion, and lay breathless -on the floor, and, after a short pause, -replied, “She <em>has</em> fainted. Raise her.—Call -for assistance, and apply some cold -water, or bear her into the open air. I -fear I have lost the mark in the life of this -holy saint,” muttered Donna Clara when -alone; “this comes of this foolish business -of love and marriage. I never loved in -my life, thank the saints!—and as to marriage, -that is according to the will of God -and of our parents.”</p> - -<p>“The unfortunate Isidora was lifted -from the floor, conveyed into the open air, -whose breath had the same effect on her -still elementary existence, that water was -said to have on that of the <i lang="es" xml:lang="es">ombre pez</i>, -(man-fish), of whom the popular traditions -of Barcelona were at that time, and still -have been, rife.</p> - -<p><a class="pagenum" name="Page_352" title="352"> </a>“She recovered; and sending an apology -to Donna Clara for her sudden indisposition, -intreated her attendants to leave -her, as she wished to be alone. Alone!—that -is a word to which those who love -annex but one idea,—that of being in society -with one who is their all. She wished -in this (to her) terrible emergency, to -ask counsel of him whose image was ever -present to her, and whose voice she heard -with the mind’s ear distinctly even in absence.</p> - -<p>“The crisis was indeed one calculated -to try a female heart; and Isidora’s, with -its potency of feeling, opposed to utter -destitution of judgment and of experience,—its -native habits of resolution and self-direction, -and its acquired ones of timidity -and diffidence almost to despondency,—became -the victim of emotions, -whose struggle seemed at first to threaten -her reason.</p> - -<p>“Her former independent and instinctive -existence revived in her heart at some -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_353" title="353"> </a> -moments, and suggested to her resolutions -wild and desperate, but such as the most -timid females have been known, under the -pressure of a fearful exigency, to purpose, -and even to execute. Then the constraint -of her new habits,—the severity of her factitious -existence,—and the solemn power -of her newly-learned but deeply-felt religion,—made -her renounce all thoughts of -resistance or opposition, as offences against -heaven.</p> - -<p>“Her former feelings, her new duties, -beat in terrible conflict against her heart; -and, trembling at the isthmus on which -she stood, she felt it, under the influence -of opposing tides, narrowing every moment -under her feet.</p> - -<p>“This was a dreadful day to her. She -had sufficient time for reflection, but she -had within her the conviction that reflection -could be of no use,—that the circumstances -in which she was placed, not her -own thoughts, must decide for her,—and -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_354" title="354"> </a> -that, situated as she was, mental power was -no match for physical.</p> - -<p>“There is not, perhaps, a more painful -exercise of the mind than that of treading, -with weary and impatient pace, the entire -round of thought, and arriving at the same -conclusion for ever; then setting out again -with increased speed and diminished -strength, and again returning to the very -same spot—of sending out all our faculties -on a voyage of discovery, and seeing them -all return empty, and watch the wrecks as -they drift helplessly along, and sink before -the eye that hailed their outward expedition -with joy and confidence.</p> - -<p>“All that day she thought how it was -possible to liberate herself from her situation, -while the feeling that liberation was -impossible clung to the bottom of her -heart; and this sensation of the energies -of the soul in all their strength, being in -vain opposed to imbecillity and mediocrity, -when aided by circumstances, is one -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_355" title="355"> </a> -productive alike of melancholy and of irritation. -We feel, like prisoners in romance, -bound by threads to which the power of -magic has given the force of adamant.</p> - -<p>“To those whose minds incline them rather -to observe, than to sympathize with the -varieties of human feeling, it would have -been interesting to watch the restless agony -of Isidora, contrasted with the cold and -serene satisfaction of her mother, who employed -the whole of the day in composing, -with the assistance of Fra Jose, what Juvenal -calls “<i lang="la" xml:lang="la">verbosa et grandis epistola</i>,” -in answer to that of her husband; and to -conceive how two human beings, apparently -of similarly-constructed organs, and -destined apparently to sympathize with -each other, could draw from the same -fountain waters sweet and bitter.</p> - -<p>“On her plea of continued indisposition, -Isidora was excused from appearing -before her mother during the remainder -of the day. The night came on,—the -night, which, by concealing the artificial -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_356" title="356"> </a> -objects and manners which surrounded -her, restored to her, in some degree, the -consciousness of her former existence, and -gave her a sense of independence she -never felt by day. The absence of Melmoth -increased her anxiety. She began -to apprehend that his departure was intended -to be final, and her heart sunk at -the thought.</p> - -<p>“To the mere reader of romance, it -may seem incredible that a female of Isidora’s -energy and devotedness should feel -anxiety or terror in a situation so common -to a heroine. She has only to stand proof -against all the importunities and authority -of her family, and announce her desperate -resolution to share the destiny of a mysterious -and unacknowledged lover. All -this sounds very plausible and interesting. -Romances have been written and read, -whose interest arose from the noble and -impossible defiance of the heroine to all -powers human and superhuman alike. -But neither the writers or readers seem -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_357" title="357"> </a> -ever to have taken into account the thousand -petty external causes that operate on -human agency with a force, if not more -powerful, far more effective than the grand -internal motive which makes so grand a -figure in romance, and so rare and trivial -a one in common life.</p> - -<p>“Isidora would have died for him she -loved. At the stake or the scaffold she -would have avowed her passion, and triumphed -in perishing as its victim. The -mind can collect itself for one great effort, -but it is exhausted by the eternally-recurring -necessity of domestic conflicts,—victories -by which she must lose, and defeats -by which she might gain the praise -of perseverance, and feel such gain was -loss. The last single and terrible effort of -the Jewish champion, in which he and his -enemies perished together, must have been -a luxury compared to his blind drudgery -in his mill.</p> - -<p>“Before Isidora lay that painful and -perpetual struggle of fettered strength -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_358" title="358"> </a> -with persecuting weakness, which, if the -truth were told, would divest half the heroines -of romance of the power or wish to -contend against the difficulties that beset -them. Her mansion was a prison—she had -no power (and if she possessed the power, -would never have exercised it) of obtaining -an unpermitted or unobserved egress -from the doors of the house for one moment. -Thus her escape was completely -barred; and had every door in the house -been thrown open, she would have felt -like a bird on its first flight from the cage, -without a spray that she dared to rest on. -Such was her prospect, even if she could -effect her escape—at home it was worse.</p> - -<p>“The stern and cold tone of authority -in which her father’s letter was written, -gave her but little hope that in her father -she would find a friend. Then the feeble -and yet imperious mediocrity of her -mother—the selfish and arrogant temper -of Fernan—the powerful influence and incessant -documentising of Fra Jose, whose -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_359" title="359"> </a> -good-nature was no match for his love of -authority—the daily domestic persecution—that -vinegar that would wear out any -rock—the being compelled to listen day -after day to the same exhausting repetition -of exhortation, chiding, reproach, and -menace, or seek refuge in her chamber, to -waste the weary hours in loneliness and -tears—this strife maintained by one strong -indeed in purpose, but feeble in power, against -so many all sworn to work their -will, and have their way—this perpetual -conflict with evils so trivial in the items, -but so heavy in the amount, to those who -have the debt to pay daily and hourly,—was -too much for the resolution of Isidora, -and she wept in hopeless despondency, as -she felt that already her courage shrunk -from the encounter, and knew not what -concessions might be extorted from her -increasing inability of resistance.</p> - -<p>“Oh!” she cried, clasping her hands in -the extremity of her distress, “Oh that -he were but here to direct, to counsel me!—that -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_360" title="360"> </a> -he were here even no longer as my -lover, but only as my adviser!”</p> - -<p>“It is said that a certain power is always -at hand to facilitate the wishes that -the individual forms for his own injury; -and so it should seem in the present instance,—for -she had scarce uttered these -words, when the shadow of Melmoth was -seen darkening the garden walk,—and the -next moment he was beneath the casement. -As she saw him approach, she uttered -a cry of mingled joy and fear, which -he hushed by making a signal of silence -with his hand, and then whispered, “I -know it all!”</p> - -<p>“Isidora was silent. She had nothing -but her recent distress to communicate,—and -of that, it appeared, he was already -apprized. She waited, therefore, in mute -anxiety for some words of counsel or -of comfort. “I know all!” continued -Melmoth; “your father has landed in -Spain—he brings with him your destined -husband. The fixed purpose of your -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_361" title="361"> </a> -whole family, as obstinate as they are -weak, it will be bootless in you to resist; -and this day fortnight will see you the -bride of Montilla.”—“I will first be the -bride of the grave,” said Isidora, with perfect -and fearful calmness.</p> - -<p>“At these words, Melmoth advanced -and gazed on her more closely. Any -thing of intense and terrible resolution,—of -feeling or action in extremity,—made -harmony with the powerful but disordered -chords of his soul. He required her to -repeat the words—she did so, with quivering -lip, but unfaultering voice. He advanced -still nearer to gaze on her as she -spoke. It was a beautiful and fearful sight -to see her as she stood;—her marble face—her -moveless features—her eyes in which -burned the fixed and livid light of despair, -like a lamp in a sepulchral vault—the -lips that half opened, and remaining unclosed, -appeared as if the speaker was unconscious -of the words that had escaped -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_362" title="362"> </a> -them, or rather, as if they had burst -forth by involuntary and incontroulable -impulse;—so she stood, like a statue, at -her casement, the moonlight giving her -white drapery the appearance of stone, -and her wrought-up and determined -mind lending the same rigidity to her -expression. Melmoth himself felt confounded—appalled -he could not feel. He -retreated, and then returning, demanded, -“Is this your resolution, Isidora?—and -have you indeed resolution to”<span style="white-space: nowrap;">——</span> -“To die!” answered Isidora, with the -same unaltered accent,—the same calm -expression,—and seeming, as she spake, -capable of all she expressed; and this union, -in the same slight and tender form, of those -eternal competitors, energy and fragility, -beauty and death, made every human pulse -in Melmoth’s frame beat with a throbbing -unknown before. “Can you, then,” -he said, with averted head, and in a tone -that seemed ashamed of its own softness—“Can -you, then, die for him you will not -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_363" title="363"> </a> -live for?”—“I have said I will die sooner -than be the bride of Montilla,” answered -Isidora. “Of death I know nothing, nor -do I know much of life—but I would rather -perish, than be the perjured wife of -the man I cannot love.”—“And why can -you not love him?” said Melmoth, toying -with the heart he held in his hand, like a -mischievous boy with a bird, around whose -leg he has fastened a string.—“Because I -can love but one. You were the first human -being I ever saw who could teach -me language, and who taught me feeling. -Your image is for ever before me, present -or absent, sleeping or waking. I have -seen fairer forms,—I have listened to softer -voices,—I might have met gentler -hearts,—but the first, the indelible image, -is written on mine, and its characters will -never be effaced till that heart is a clod of -the valley. I loved you not for comeliness,—I -loved you not for gay deportment, or -fond language, or all that is said to be -lovely in the eye of woman,—I loved you -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_364" title="364"> </a> -because you were my <em>first</em>,—the sole connecting -link between the human world and -my heart,—the being who brought me acquainted -with that wondrous instrument -that lay unknown and untouched within -and me, whose chords, as long as they vibrate, -will disdain to obey any touch but that -of their first mover—because your image is -mixed in my imagination with all the glories -of nature—because your voice, when -I heard it first, was something in accordance -with the murmur of the ocean, and -the music of the stars. And still its tones -recal the unimaginable blessedness of those -scenes where first I heard it,—and still I -listen to it like an exile who hears the -music of his native country in a land that -is very far off,—because nature and passion, -memory and hope, alike cling round your -image; and amid the light of my former -existence, and the gloom of my present, -there is but one form that retains its reality -and its power through light and shade. -I am like one who has traversed many -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_365" title="365"> </a> -climates, and looks but to one sun as the -light of all, whether bright or obscure. I -have loved once—and for ever!” Then, -trembling at the words she uttered, she -added, with that sweet mixture of maiden -pride and purity that redeems while it -pledges the hostage of the heart, “The -feelings I have entrusted you with may -be abused, but never alienated.”—“And -these are your <em>real</em> feelings?” said Melmoth, -pausing long, and moving his frame -like one agitated by deep and uneasy -thoughts. “Real!” repeated Isidora, with -some transient glow on her cheek—“real! -Can I utter any thing but what is real? -Can I so soon forget my existence?” Melmoth -looked up once more as she spoke—“If -such is your resolution,—if such be -your feelings indeed,”<span style="white-space: nowrap;">——</span> “And they -are!—they are!” exclaimed Isidora, her -tears bursting through the slender fingers, -which, after extending towards him, she -clasped over her burning eyes. “Then -look to the alternative that awaits you!” -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_366" title="366"> </a> -said Melmoth slowly, bringing out the -words with difficulty, and, as it appeared, -with some feeling for his victim; “a -union with the man you cannot love,—or -the perpetual hostility, the wearying, wasting, -almost annihilating persecution of your -family! Think of days that”<span style="white-space: nowrap;">——</span> “Oh -let me not think!” cried Isidora, wringing -her white and slender hands; “tell me—tell -me what may be done to escape them!”—“Now, -in good troth,” answered Melmoth, -knitting his brows with a most cogitative -wrinkle, while it was impossible -to discover whether his predominant expression -was that of irony or profound and -sincere feeling—“I know not what resource -you have unless you wed me.”—“Wed -you!” cried Isidora, retreating -from the window—“Wed you!” and she -clasped her hands over her pale forehead;—and -at this moment, when the hope -of her heart, the thread on which her existence -was suspended, was within her -reach, she trembled to touch it. “Wed -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_367" title="367"> </a> -you!—but how is that possible?”—“All -things are possible to those who love,” -said Melmoth, with his sardonic smile, -which was hid by the shades of the night. -“And you will wed me, then, by the -rites of the church of which I am a member?”—“Aye! -or of any other!”—“Oh -speak not so wildly!—say not <em>aye</em> in that -horrible voice! Will you wed me as a -Christian maiden should be wed?—Will -you love me as a Christian wife should be -loved? My former existence was like a -dream,—but now I am awake. If I unite -my destiny to yours,—if I abandon my -family, my country, my”<span style="white-space: nowrap;">——</span> “If you -do, how will you be the loser?—your family -harasses and confines you—your -country would shout to see you at the -stake, for you have some heretical feelings -about you, Isidora. And for the rest”<span style="white-space: nowrap;">——</span> -“God!” said the poor victim, clasping her -hands, and looking upwards, “God, aid -me in this extremity!”—“If I am to wait -here only as a witness to your devotions,” -<a class="pagenum" name="Page_368" title="368"> </a> -said Melmoth with sullen asperity, “my -stay will not be long.”—“You cannot -leave me, then, to struggle with fear and -perplexity alone! How is it possible for -me to escape, even if”<span style="white-space: nowrap;">——</span> “By whatever -means I possess of entering this place -and retiring unobserved,—by the same -you may effect your escape. If you have -resolution, the effort will cost you little,—if -love,—nothing. Speak, shall I be here -at this hour to-morrow night, to conduct -you to liberty and”<span style="white-space: nowrap;">——</span> Safety he would -have added, but his voice faultered. “<em>To-morrow -night</em>,” said Isidora, after a long -pause, and in accents almost inarticulate. -She closed the casement as she spoke, and -Melmoth slowly departed.</p> - -<p class="end">END OF THIRD VOLUME.</p> - - -<div class="footnotes"> - -<div class="footnote"> -<p><a name="Footnote_1" href="#FootnoteMarker_1" class="label">(1)</a> -Quilibet postea paterfamilias, cum <em>gallo</em> præ manibus, -in medium primus prodit. * * -* * * * * * -</p> -<p> -Deinde expiationem aggreditur et capiti suo ter -gallum allidit, singulosque ictus his vocibus prosequitur. -Hic Gallus sit permutio pro me, &c. * -* * * * * * -Gallo deinde imponens manus, eum statim mactat, &c. -</p> -<p> -Vide Buxtorf, as quoted in Dr Magee (Bishop of -Raphoe’s) work on the atonement. Cumberland in -his Observer, I think, mentions the discovery to have -been reserved for the feast of the Passover. It is just -as probable it was made on the day of expiation. -</p> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<p><a name="Footnote_2" href="#FootnoteMarker_2" class="label">(2)</a> -The Jews believe in two Messias, a suffering -and a triumphant one, to reconcile the prophecies -with their own expectations. -</p> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<p><a name="Footnote_3" href="#FootnoteMarker_3" class="label">(3)</a> -This extraordinary fact occurred after the dreadful -fire which consumed sixteen persons in one house, -in Stephen’s Green, Dublin, 1816. The writer of -this heard the screams of sufferers whom it was impossible -to save, for an hour and a half. -</p> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<p><a name="Footnote_4" href="#FootnoteMarker_4" class="label">(4)</a> -This circumstance occurred in Ireland 1797, -after the murder of the unfortunate Dr Hamilton. -The officer was answered, on inquiring what was that -heap of mud at his horse’s feet,—“The man you -came for.” -</p> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<p><a name="Footnote_5" href="#FootnoteMarker_5" class="label">(5)</a> -In the year 1803, when Emmett’s insurrection -broke out in Dublin—(<em>the fact</em> from which this account -is drawn was related to me by an eye-witness)—Lord -Kilwarden, in passing through Thomas Street, -was dragged from his carriage, and murdered in the -most horrid manner. Pike after pike was thrust -through his body, till at last he was <em>nailed to a door</em>, -and called out to his murderers to “put him out of -his pain.” At this moment, a shoemaker, who lodged -in the garret of an opposite house, was drawn to the -window by the horrible cries he heard. He stood at -the window, gasping with horror, his wife attempting -vainly to drag him away. He saw the last blow -struck—he heard the last groan uttered, as the sufferer -cried, “put me out of pain,” while sixty pikes -were thrusting at him. The man stood at his window -as if nailed to it; and when dragged from it, -became—an <em>idiot for life</em>. -</p> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<p><a name="Footnote_6" href="#FootnoteMarker_6" class="label">(6)</a> -Written mountains, <i lang="la" xml:lang="la">i. e.</i> rocks inscribed with -characters recordative of some remarkable event, are -well known to every oriental traveller. I think it is -in the notes of Dr Coke, on the book of Exodus, -that I have met with the circumstance alluded to above. -A rock near the Red Sea is said once to have -borne the inscription, “Israel hath passed the flood.” -</p> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<p><a name="Footnote_7" href="#FootnoteMarker_7" class="label">(7)</a> -Vide Maurice’s Indian Antiquities. -</p> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<p><a name="Footnote_8" href="#FootnoteMarker_8" class="label">(8)</a> -The Cupid of the Indian mythology. -</p> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<p><a name="Footnote_9" href="#FootnoteMarker_9" class="label">(9)</a> -The Indian Apollo. -</p> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<p><a name="Footnote_10" href="#FootnoteMarker_10" class="label">(10)</a> -The curtain behind which women are concealed. -</p> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<p><a name="Footnote_11" href="#FootnoteMarker_11" class="label">(11)</a> -From the fire-flies being so often found in the -nest of the loxia, the Indians imagine he illuminates -his nest with them. It is more likely they are the -food of his young. -</p> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<p><a name="Footnote_12" href="#FootnoteMarker_12" class="label">(12)</a> -Intellige “buildings.” -</p> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<p><a name="Footnote_13" href="#FootnoteMarker_13" class="label">(13)</a> -Tippoo Saib wished to substitute the Mohamedan -for the Indian mythology throughout his dominions. -This circumstance, though long antedated, -is therefore imaginable. -</p> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<p><a name="Footnote_14" href="#FootnoteMarker_14" class="label">(14)</a> -I trust the absurdity of this quotation here will -be forgiven for its beauty. It is borrowed from Miss -Baillie, the first dramatic poet of the age. -</p> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<p><a name="Footnote_15" href="#FootnoteMarker_15" class="label">(15)</a> -As, by a mode of criticism equally false and -unjust, the worst sentiments of my worst characters, -(from the ravings of Bertram to the blasphemies of -Cardonneau), have been represented as <em>my own</em>, I -must here trespass so far on the patience of the reader -as to assure him, that the sentiments ascribed to -the stranger are diametrically opposite to mine, and -that I have purposely put them into the mouth of an -agent of the enemy of mankind. -</p> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<p><a name="Footnote_16" href="#FootnoteMarker_16" class="label">(16)</a> -The Catholics and Protestants were thus distinguished -in the wars of the League. -</p> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<p><a name="Footnote_17" href="#FootnoteMarker_17" class="label">(17)</a> -Catholics. -</p> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<p><a name="Footnote_18" href="#FootnoteMarker_18" class="label">(18)</a> -Protestants. -</p> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<p><a name="Footnote_19" href="#FootnoteMarker_19" class="label">(19)</a> -Dissenters. -</p> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<p><a name="Footnote_20" href="#FootnoteMarker_20" class="label">(20)</a> -Ireland. -</p> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<p><a name="Footnote_21" href="#FootnoteMarker_21" class="label">(21)</a> -I have read the legend of this Polish saint, which -is circulated in Dublin, and find recorded among the -indisputable proofs of his vocation, that he infallibly -swooned if an indecent expression was uttered in his -presence—<em>when in his nurse’s arms!</em> -</p> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<p><a name="Footnote_22" href="#FootnoteMarker_22" class="label">(22)</a> -Alluding possibly to “Romeo and Juliet.” -</p> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<p><a name="Footnote_23" href="#FootnoteMarker_23" class="label">(23)</a> -Vide Don Quixote, Vol. II. Smollet’s Translation. -</p> -</div> -</div> - - -<div class="transcribers-note page-break-after"> -<p class="center"><a name="tn-bottom"></a><b>Transcriber’s Note:</b></p> -<p>The following is a list of corrections made to the original. The -first passage is the original passage, the second the corrected one.</p> - -<ul id="corrections"> -<li><a href="#Page_8">Page 8</a>:<br /> -<span class="small-caps all-upper">PIERCED BY THEIR OWN CHILDREN</span><span class="correction">.</span><br /> -<span class="small-caps all-upper">PIERCED BY THEIR OWN CHILDREN</span><span class="correction">.”</span> -</li> -<li><a href="#Page_23">Page 23</a>:<br /> -sun though <span class="correction">your’s</span> is set;—the solemn and<br /> -sun though <span class="correction">yours</span> is set;—the solemn and -</li> -<li><a href="#Page_46">Page 46</a>:<br /> -denier in your <span class="correction">purse.</span><br /> -denier in your <span class="correction">purse.”</span> -</li> -<li><a href="#Page_78">Page 78</a>:<br /> -first <span class="correction">recieved</span> the bloody homage of the<br /> -first <span class="correction">received</span> the bloody homage of the -</li> -<li><a href="#Page_83">Page 83</a>:<br /> - <span class="correction">For</span> many a night these canoes might be<br /> - <span class="correction">“For</span> many a night these canoes might be -</li> -<li><a href="#Page_101">Page 101</a>:<br /> -the periodical regularity of these <span class="correction">phœnomena</span>,<br /> -the periodical regularity of these <span class="correction">phænomena</span>, -</li> -<li><a href="#Page_112">Page 112</a>:<br /> -<span class="correction">But</span> to this question he could obtain no<br /> -<span class="correction">“But</span> to this question he could obtain no -</li> -<li><a href="#Page_125">Page 125</a>:<br /> -<span class="correction">breathles</span> and glowing with newly excited<br /> -<span class="correction">breathless</span> and glowing with newly excited -</li> -<li><a href="#Page_133">Page 133</a>:<br /> -and tasteless morsel they had torn <span class="correction">away.”</span><br /> -and tasteless morsel they had torn <span class="correction">away.</span> -</li> -<li><a href="#Page_138">Page 138</a>:<br /> -whose summit is surmounted by a <span class="correction">trident.</span>—that<br /> -whose summit is surmounted by a <span class="correction">trident,</span>—that -</li> -<li><a href="#Page_144">Page 144</a>:<br /> -being who urged them made such <span class="correction">an an</span><br /> -being who urged them made such <span class="correction">an</span> -</li> -<li><a href="#Page_144">Page 144</a>:<br /> -<span class="correction">Her</span> glowing features, as she turned them<br /> -<span class="correction">“Her</span> glowing features, as she turned them -</li> -<li><a href="#Page_148">Page 148</a>:<br /> -CHAPTER <span class="correction">XIV</span>.<br /> -CHAPTER <span class="correction">XVII</span>. -</li> -<li><a href="#Page_176">Page 176</a>:<br /> -<span class="correction">iackets</span> should be red or white—or whether<br /> -<span class="correction">jackets</span> should be red or white—or whether -</li> -<li><a href="#Page_187">Page 187</a>:<br /> -CHAPTER <span class="correction">XVII</span>.<br /> -CHAPTER <span class="correction">XVIII</span>. -</li> -<li><a href="#Page_204">Page 204</a>:<br /> -gave to her form, when <span class="correction">it it</span> was momently<br /> -gave to her form, when <span class="correction">it</span> was momently -</li> -<li><a href="#Page_217">Page 217</a>:<br /> -<span class="correction">The</span> waves deserting their station, left,<br /> -<span class="correction">“The</span> waves deserting their station, left, -</li> -<li><a href="#Page_221">Page 221</a>:<br /> -from <span class="correction">him.”</span><br /> -from <span class="correction">him.</span> -</li> -<li><a href="#Page_225">Page 225</a>:<br /> -CHAPTER <span class="correction">XVII</span>.<br /> -CHAPTER <span class="correction">XIX</span>. -</li> -<li><a href="#Page_231">Page 231</a>:<br /> -from above to welcome <span class="correction">her.</span> As he spoke,<br /> -from above to welcome <span class="correction">her.”</span> As he spoke, -</li> -<li><a href="#Page_231">Page 231</a>:<br /> -<span class="correction">At</span> the approach of a large party of females,<br /> -<span class="correction">“At</span> the approach of a large party of females, -</li> -<li><a href="#Page_239">Page 239</a>:<br /> -CHAPTER <span class="correction">XVIII</span>.<br /> -CHAPTER <span class="correction">XX</span>. -</li> -<li><a href="#Page_260">Page 260</a>:<br /> -“Excæcavit oculos eorum ne <span class="correction">viderent.”</span><br /> -“Excæcavit oculos eorum ne <span class="correction">viderent.</span> -</li> -<li><a href="#Page_285">Page 285</a>:<br /> -On my <span class="correction">passsage</span> to this Christian land, I<br /> -On my <span class="correction">passage</span> to this Christian land, I -</li> -<li><a href="#Page_296">Page 296</a>:<br /> -to <span class="correction">hear’</span><span style="white-space: nowrap;">——</span> “You will hear much better!”<br /> -to <span class="correction">hear”</span><span style="white-space: nowrap;">——</span> “You will hear much better!” -</li> -<li><a href="#Page_311">Page 311</a>:<br /> -CHAPTER <span class="correction">XIX</span>.<br /> -CHAPTER <span class="correction">XXI</span>. -</li> -<li><a href="#Page_343">Page 343</a>:<br /> -CHAPTER <span class="correction">XX</span>.<br /> -CHAPTER <span class="correction">XXII</span>. -</li> -<li><a href="#Page_345">Page 345</a>:<br /> -<span class="correction">Jausenists</span>, which had already visited Spain,<br /> -<span class="correction">Jansenists</span>, which had already visited Spain, -</li> -</ul> -</div> - 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