It was indeed a kind of farce acted by this unhappy pair, in which both played their parts so aukwardly, that the real character would frequently peep out, and though each dissembled, yet neither was deceived; but as I said before, this could not last for ever; and the ice being once broke in some unguarded humour either on the one or the other side, I cannot pretend to affirm on which, the torrent of their mutual disgust burst out with the greater force, for having been so long pent up: it is hard to tell which testified the most virulence, or expressed themselves in the most bitter terms:--all that can be determined is, that those of Natura shewed most of _rage_, and those his wife made use of, most of _hatred_.

After having fully vented all that was in their souls against each other, both became more calm; and agreed in this, as the only resource for ease in their present unhappy situation, to banish for the future all deceit between them, and never more pretend the least kindness or good-will to each other when in private, to lie in separate beds, and to be as seldom as possible alone together; but for the sake of both their reputations to continue in the same house, and before company to behave with reciprocal politeness.

These terms rid Natura of a great part of that insupportable constraint he had been under, but gave not the least satisfaction, as to his jealousy of honour; he doubted not but she would be guilty of many things, injurious in the highest degree to their public character, and which yet it would not so well become him to exert his authority in opposing, and these reflections gave him the most terrible inquietude; which shews, that though _jealousy_ is called the child of _love_, it is very possible to feel all the tortures of the _one_, without being sensible of any of the douceurs of the _other_ pa.s.sion.

How dearly now did Natura pay for the gratification of his ambition!--What availed his grandeur, the respect paid him by his equals, and the homage of the inferior world!--What the pride of having it in his power to confer favours, when he had himself a heart torn with the most fierce convulsions, and less capable of enjoying the goods of fortune, than the most abject of those indigent creatures, who pet.i.tioned for relief from him!--By day, by night, alone, or in company, he was haunted with ideas the most distracting to his peace.--A smile on the face of his wife, seemed to him to proceed from the joy of having made some new conquest; a grave or melancholly look, from a disappointment on the account of a favourite gallant: yet as her person was the least thing he was tenacious of, the behaviour of others gave him greater pain than any thing she could do herself;--whoever spoke handsomely of her, he imagined insulted him; and those who mentioned her not at all, he thought were sensible of her levity, and his misfortune:--every thing he saw or heard, seemed to him a sad memento of his dishonour; and though he could not a.s.sure himself she had in fact been guilty of a breach of her virtue, he was very certain she had been so of that reserve and modesty which is the most distinguishable characteristic of it, and took from him the power of vindicating her innocence, or his own honour even though he had believed them safe, as becomes a husband, whose wife is more cautious of her conduct in this point.

Too delicate of the censure of the world, it gave him the utmost anxiety how to carry himself, so as not to afford any room to have it said he was either a jealous, or a too credulous husband; yet in spite of all his care, he incurred both these characters:--those who had heard of his sending her into the country, without being acquainted with the motives for his so doing, looked on him as the former; and those who saw her manner of behaviour, and the seeming politeness of his treatment of her, imagined him the latter:--so difficult is it for any one, who only sees the outside of things, to judge what they are in reality; yet the vanity of having it believed they are let into secrets, makes a great many people invent circ.u.mstances, and then relate for matters of fact, what are indeed no more than the suggestions of imagination, or, what is yet worse, the coinage of their own brain, without believing themselves what they take upon them to report to others.

This undoubtedly happened on the score of Natura and his wife, and occasioned not only many idle stories at tea-table conversation, but also many oblique hints to be sometimes given to himself, which, perhaps, there was not the least grounds for, but which greatly added to his disquiets; as when we think we have reason to believe part, we are ready to give credit to all we hear, especially in cases of this nature; it being the peculiar property of jealousy, to force the mind to grasp with eagerness, at every thing that tends to render it more afflicted and perplexed.

BOOK the Third.

CHAP. I.

Shews in what manner anger and revenge operate on the mind, and how ambition is capable of stifling both, in a remarkable instance, that _private injuries_, how great soever, may seem of no weight, when _public grandeur_ requires they should be looked over.

Nothing is so violent as anger in its first emotions, it takes the faculties by surprize, and rushes upon the soul like an impetuous torrent, bearing down all before it: its strength, however, is owing to its suddenness; for being raised by some new and unexpected accident or provocation, reason has no warning of its approach, and consequently is off her guard, and without any immediate power of acting: the sweetest, and most gentle disposition, is not always a sufficient defence for the mind, against the attacks of this furious pa.s.sion, and may be hurried by it to deeds the most opposite to its own nature; but then as it is fierce, it is transient also; should its force continue, it would lose its name, and be no longer anger, but revenge; which, though the worst and most fiend-like propensity of a vicious inclination, is sometimes excited by circ.u.mstances, that seem in a great measure to alleviate the blackness of it:--repeated and unprovoked insults, friendship and love abused, injuries in our person, our fortune, or reputation, will sour the softest temper, and are apt to make us imagine it is an injustice to our selves, not to retaliate in kind, the ill treatment we receive. Religion, indeed, forbids us to take our own parts thus far, and philosophy teaches, that it is n.o.bler to forgive, than punish wrongs; but every one is not so happy as to have either of these helps; and I do not find but those who boast both of them in the most superlative degree, stand in need of something more, to enable them to restrain this prevailing impulse; and that it is not so much to the precepts they receive from others, as to some dictates from within, that many people are indebted for the reputation of patience and forbearance.

It is the peculiar providence of Heaven, as I took notice in the beginning of this work, that the more ign.o.ble pa.s.sions of human nature, are, generally speaking, opposites, and by that means serve as a curb to bridle the inordinancy of each other; so that, though _one alone_ would be pernicious to society, and render the person possessed of it obnoxious to the world, _many_ will prevent the hurt, and make the man himself tolerable.

The adventure I am now going to relate, will prove that Natura had the greatest excitements, and the greatest justification both for wrath and revenge that could possibly be offered to any one man: yet did another pa.s.sion, not more excusable than either of these, suppress all the turbulent emotions of both, and quench the boiling flames within his soul, insomuch as to make him appear all calmness and contentedness.

But though I made use of the word pa.s.sion to express the now prevailing propensity of Natura's soul, I do not think that ambition, strictly speaking, can come under that denomination:--to me it rather seems the effect of an a.s.semblage of other pa.s.sions, than a pa.s.sion simple of itself, and natural to the mind of man; and I believe, whoever examines it to the fountain head, will find it takes its origin from pride and envy, and is nourished by self-love, nor ever appears in any great degree, where these do not abound.--Were it born with us, there would doubtless be some indications of it in childhood, but it is observable, that not till man arrives at maturity, and even not then, unless the sight of objects above himself excites it, he discovers the least sensation of any such emotion.--In fine, it is an inclination rarely known in youth, ordinarily declines in age, and never exerts itself with vigour, as in the middle stage of life, which I reckon to be from about five-and-twenty to fifty, or somewhat more, according to the strength of the natural stamina, or const.i.tution.--But to go on with my history.

Since Natura had been in what they call a settled state in the world, it had always been his custom to distinguish the anniversary of that day which gave him birth, by providing a polite entertainment for his friends and kindred: he had now attained to his fortieth year, and though it had been that in which he had known more poignant disquiets, than in any one of his whole life before; yet thinking that to neglect the observation of it now, would give occasion for remarks on his reasons for so doing, he resolved to treat it with the usual ceremony.

It was in that delightful season of the year, when nature, adorned with all her charms, invites the senses to taste that regale in the open air, which the most elegant and best concerted entertainments within doors cannot atone for the want of. After dinner was over, the whole company which was pretty numerous, adjourned from the table to the garden, a small, but well ordered spot of ground, at the lower end of which was a green-house, furnished with many curious exotic plants.

While Natura was shewing this collection to those of his guests, who had a taste that way, others were diverting themselves with walking in the alleys, or set down in arbors, according as their different fancies inclined, as it is common for people to divide themselves into little parties, when there are too many for all to share in a general conversation.

As they were thus employed, the minister, who though he had not thought it beneath the dignity of his character to do honour to the birth-day of the husband of his neice, yet had his mind taken up with other things than the amus.e.m.e.nts of the place, took Natura aside on a sudden, and asked him if he had not a paper in his custody, which he had some time before put into his hands; to which the other answering in the affirmative, 'There are some things in it I do not well remember,' said the great man; 'and a thought just now occurs to me, in which they may be of use':--Natura then offered to fetch it; 'No,'

replied the other, 'I will go with you, and we will examine it together.'

There was no need of making any apology to the company, they being, as I have already said, dispersed in several parts of the garden; but had they not been so, the statesman was absolute master wherever he came, and no one would have taken umbrage at Natura's following him.

They went hastily up stairs together, and the door of a room, thro'

which they were to pa.s.s to Natura's study, being shut, he gave a push against it with his foot, and it being but slightly fastened, immediately flew open, and discovered a sight no less unexpected than shocking to both;--the wife, and own brother of Natura, on a couch, and in a posture which could leave no room to doubt of the motive which had induced them to take the opportunity of the company separating themselves, to retire, without being missed, which, but for this accident, they probably would not have been.

It is easy to conceive what a husband must feel in so alarming a circ.u.mstance, nor will any one wonder that Natura behaved in the manner he did, in the first emotions of a rage, which might very well be justified by the cause that excited it.--Not having a sword on, he flew to the chimney, on each side of which hung a pistol; he s.n.a.t.c.hed one off the hook, and was going to revenge the injury he had received on one or both the guilty persons, when the minister, stepping between, beat down that arm which held the instrument of death, crying at the same time, 'What, are you a madman!--would you to punish them expose yourself!'--The pa.s.sion with which Natura was overwhelmed was too mighty for his breast; it stopped the pa.s.sage of his words, and all he could bring out was 'villain!'--'wh.o.r.e'--while those he called so, made their escape from his fury, by running out of the room. In attempting to follow them he was still with-held; and the minister having with much ado got the pistol from him, began to expostulate with him, in order to disarm his mind from pursuing any future revenge, as he had done his hand from executing the present.

'Consider,' said the statesman, 'that these are but slips of nature, that there are in this town a thousand husbands in the same situation:--indeed the affair happening with your own brother, very much enhances the crime and the provocation; but as the thing is done, and there is no remedy, it will but add to your disgrace to make it public.'

Little would it have been in the power of all the arguments in the world, if made use of by any other person, to have given a check to that just indignation Natura was inflamed with: but as patience and moderation were prescribed him by one to whom he was indebted for all the grandeur he enjoyed, and by whose favour alone he could hope for the continuance, of it, he submitted to the task, difficult as it was, and consented to make no noise of the affair. The minister a.s.sured him he would oblige his brother to exchange the commission he was at present possessed of, for one in a regiment that was going to Gibraltar, 'which,' said he, 'will be a sufficient punishment for his crime, and at the same time rid you of the sight of a person who cannot but be now detestable to you;--as to your wife, I expect you will permit her to continue in your house, in consideration of her relation to me, but shall not interfere with the manner of your living together;--that shall be at your own discretion.'

As neither of them imagined the lady, after what had happened, would have courage enough to go down to the company, it was agreed between them to make her excuse, by saying, a sudden disorder in her head had obliged her to absent herself.

Natura cleared up his brow as much as it was possible for him to do in such a circ.u.mstance, and returned with the minister to his guests, among whom, as he supposed, he found neither his wife nor brother; as for the latter, much notice was not taken of his absence, but the ladies, by this time, were full of enquiries after her; on which he immediately made the pretence above-mentioned; but unluckily, one of the company having been bred to physic, urged permission to see her, in order to prescribe some recipe for her ailment.--Natura was now extremely at a loss what to do, till the minister, who never wanted an expedient, relieved him, by telling the doctor, that his neice had been accustomed to these kind of fits from her infancy, that it was only silence and repose which recovered her, which being now gone to take, any interruption would be of more prejudice than benefit.

This pa.s.sed very well, and no farther mention was made of her; but the accident occasioned the company to take leave much sooner than otherwise they would have done, very much to the ease of Natura, who had been in the most intolerable constraint, to behave so as to conceal the truth, and longed to be alone, to give a loose to the distracting pa.s.sions of his soul.

The more he ruminated on the wrongs he had sustained, the more difficult he found it to preserve that moderation the minister had enjoined, and he had promised: he had long but too much reason to believe his wife was false; but the thought that she had entered into a criminal conversation with his own brother, rendered the guilt doubly odious in them both.--Had not his own eyes convinced him of the horrid truth, he could have given credit to no other testimony, that a brother, whom he had always treated with the utmost affection, and whose fortune it had been his care to promote, should have dared to harbour even the most distant wish of dishonouring his wife. He seemed, in his eyes, the most culpable of the two, and thought the banishment intended for him much too small a punishment for so atrocious a crime. It is certain that this young gentleman had not only broke through the bands of duty, honour, grat.i.tude, and every social obligation, but had also sinned against nature itself, by adding incest to adultery.--Natura could not indeed consider him as any thing but a monster, and that as such he ought to be cut off from the face of the earth; and neither reason nor humanity, could alledge any thing against the dictates of a revenge, which by the most unconcerned and disinterested person could not be called unjust.--Strongly did its emotions work within his soul, and he was more than once on the point of going in search of him, in order to satiate its most impatient thirst, but was as often restrained, by reflecting on the consequences.--'Suppose,' said he to himself, 'I should escape that death the law inflicts for murder, in consideration of the provocation, I cannot hope to preserve my employments.--I must retire from the world, live an obscure life the whole remainder of my days, and the whole shameful adventure being divulged, will render me the common topic of table conversation, and entail dishonour and contempt upon my son.'

Thus did ambition get the better of resentment;--thus did the love of grandeur extirpate all regard of true honour, and the shame of private contempt from the world lie stifled in the pride of public homage.

The minister in the mean time kept his word; he let the offending brother know it was his pleasure he should dispose of his commission in the guards, and purchase one in a regiment he named to him, which was very speedily to embark for Gibraltar: the young gentleman obeyed the injunction, and doubtless was not sorry to quit a place, where some accident or other, in spite of all the care he had resolved to take, might possibly bring him to the sight of a brother he had so greatly injured, the thoughts of whose just reproaches were more terrible to him, than any thing else that could befal him.

The wife of Natura being also privately admonished by her uncle how to behave, kept her chamber for some days, not only to give the better colour to the pretence had been made of her indisposition, but also to avoid the presence of her husband, till the first emotions of his fury should be a little abated;--he, on the other hand, profited by this absence, to bring himself to a resolution how to behave, when the shock of seeing her should arrive:--as her crime was past recal, reproaches and remonstrances would be in vain to retrieve her honour, or his peace; and if they even should work her into penitence, what would it avail? unless to soften him into a pity, which would only serve to render him more uneasy, as there was now no possibility of living with her as a wife.--Having, therefore, well weighed and considered all these things, it seemed best to him to say nothing to her of what had happened, and indeed to avoid speaking to her at all, except in public.

What she thought of a behaviour she had so little reason to expect, and what effect it produced on her future conduct, shall hereafter be related: I shall only say at present, that Natura gave himself no pain to consider what might be her sentiments on the occasion, as long as he found her uncle was perfectly satisfied with his manner of acting in this point, which he had no reason to doubt of, not only by the a.s.surances he gave him in words of his being so, but by a more convincing and substantial proof, which was this; an envoy extraordinary being about to be sent to a foreign court, on a very important negociation, he had the honour of being recommended, as a gentleman every way qualified for the duties of that post.--The minister's choice of him was approved by the king and council, and he set out on his emba.s.sy, with an equipage and state, which, joined to the attention he gave to what he was employed in, greatly dissipated the chagrin of his private affairs, and he seemed to have forgot, for a time, not only the injuries he had received, but also even the persons from whom he had received them.

CHAP. II.

Shews at what age men are most liable to the pa.s.sion of grief: the impatience of human nature under affliction, and the necessity there is of exerting reason, to restrain the excesses it would otherwise occasion.

There are certain periods of time, in which the pa.s.sions take the deepest root within us; what at one age makes but a slight impression, and is easily dissipated by different ideas, at another engrosses all the faculties, and becomes so much a part of the soul, as to require the utmost exertion of reason, and all the aids of philosophy and religion to eradicate.--Grief, for example, is one of those pa.s.sions which, in extreme youth, we know little of, and even when we grow nearer to maturity, has rarely any great dominion, let the cause which excites it be never so interesting, or justifiable: it may indeed be poignant for a time, and drive us to all the excesses imputed to that pa.s.sion; but then it is of short continuance, it dwells not on the mind, and the least appearance of a new object of satisfaction, banishes it entirely; we dry our tears, and remember no more what so lately we lamented, perhaps with the most noisy exclamations:--but it is not so when riper years give a solidity and firmness to the judgment;--then as we are less apt to grieve without a cause, so we are less able to refrain from grieving, when we have a real cause.--Grief may therefore be called a reasonable pa.s.sion, tho' it becomes not a reasonable man to give way to it;--this, at first sight, may seem a paradox to many people, but may easily be solved, in my opinion, on a very little consideration;--as thus,--because to be sensible of our loss in the value of the thing for which we mourn, is a proof of our judgment, as to refrain that mourning for what is past retrieving, within the bounds of moderation, is the greatest proof we can give of our reason:--a dull insensibility is not a testimony, either of wisdom or virtue; we are not to bear afflictions like _statues_, but like men; that is, we are allowed to _feel_, but not to _repine_, or be _impatient_ under them:--few there are, however, who have the power of preserving this happy medium, as I before observed, tho' they are such as have the a.s.sistance both of precept and experience.

In a word, all that can be expected from the best of men, when pressed with any heavy calamity, is to struggle with all his might to bear up beneath the weight with decency and resignation; and as grief never seizes strongly on the mind, till a sufficient number of years gives reason strength to combat with it, that consideration furnishes matter for praise and adoration of the all-wise and all-beneficent Author of our being, who has bestowed on us a certain comfort for all ills, if we neglect not to make use of it; so that no man can be unhappy, unless he will be so.

Motives for grief which happen on a sudden merit excuse for the extravagancies they sometimes occasion, because they surprize us unawares, reason is off her guard, and it cannot be expected we should be armed against what we had no apprehensions of;--presence of mind is an excellent, but rare quality, and we shall see very few, even among the wisest men, who are such examples of it, as to behave in the first shock of some unforeseen misfortune, with the same moderation and calmness of temper, as they would have done, had they had previous warning of what was to befal them.

Much, however, are the effects of this, as of all other pa.s.sions, owing to const.i.tution:--the robust and sanguine nature soon kindles, and is soon extinguished; whereas the phlegmatic is slow to be moved, and when so not easily settled into a calm: and tho' the difference of age makes a wide difference in our way of thinking, yet as there are old men at twenty, and boys at three-score, that rule is not without some exceptions. But to take nature in the general, and allowing for the different habits of body and complexion, we may be truly said to be most p.r.o.ne to particular pa.s.sions at particular ages:--as in youth, love, hope, and joy;--in maturity, ambition, pride, and its attendant ostentation;--when more advanced in years, grief, fear, and despair;--and in old age, avarice, and a kind of very churlish dislike of every thing presented to us.

But to return to Natura, from whose adventures I have digressed; but I hope forgiveness for it, as it was not only the history of the man I took upon me to relate, but also to point out, in his example, the various progress of the pa.s.sions in a human mind.

He acquitted himself of the important trust had been reposed in him, with all the diligence and discretion could be expected from him; and returned honoured with many rich presents from the prince to whom he had been sent, as a testimony of the sense he had of his abilities.

But scarce had he time to receive the felicitations of his friends on this score, before an accident happened to him, which demanded a much more than equal share of condolance from them.--His son, his only son, the darling of his heart, was seized with a distemper in his head, which in a very few days baffled the art of medicine, and s.n.a.t.c.hed him from the world.--What now availed his honours, his wealth, his every requisite for grandeur, or for pleasure?--He, for whose sake chiefly he had laboured to acquire them, was no more!--no second self remained to enjoy what he must one day leave behind him.--All of him was now collected in his own being, and with _that_ being must end.--Melancholly reflection!--yet not the worst that this unhappy incident inflicted:--his estate, all at least that had descended to him by inheritance, with the vast improvements he had made on it, must now devolve on a brother he had so much cause to hate, and whose very name but mentioned struck horror to his heart.

The motives for his grief were great, it must be allowed, and such as demanded the utmost fort.i.tude to sustain;--he certainly exerted all he was master of on this occasion; but, in spite of his efforts, nature got the upper hand, and rendered him inconsolable:--he burst not into any violent exclamations, but the silent sorrow preyed on his vitals, and reduced him, in a short time, almost to the shadow of what he had been.

One of the most dangerous effects of melancholy is, the gloomy pleasure it gives to every thing that serves to indulge it:--darkness and solitude are its delight and nourishment, and the person possessed of it, naturally shuns and hates whatever might alleviate it;--the sight of his best friends now became irksome to him;--he not only loathed, but grew incapable of all business;--he shut himself in his closet, shunned conversation, was scarce prevailed on to take the necessary supports of nature, and seemed as if his soul was buried in the tomb of his son, and only a kind of vegetative life remained within him.

His sister, who loved him very affectionately, and for whom he had always preserved the tenderest amity, being informed of his disconsolate condition, came to town, flattering herself with being able to dissipate, at least some part of his chagrin. To this end she brought with her all her children, some of whom he had never seen, and had frequently expressed by letter, the desire he had of embracing them, and the regret he had that the great affairs he was always constantly engaged in, would not permit him time to take a journey into the country where she lived.

But how greatly did she deceive herself;--he was too far sunk in the lethargy of grief, to be roused out of it by all her kind endeavours;--on the contrary, the sight of those near and dear relatives she presented to him only added to his affliction, by reminding him in a more lively manner of his own loss; and the sad effect she found their presence had on him, obliged her to remove them immediately from his eyes.