SONNETTO SIMPLICITY.
Nymph of the desert! on this lonely shore,Simplicity, thy blessings still are mine,And all thou canst not give I pleased resign,For all beside can soothe my soul no more.I ask no lavish heaps to swell my store,And purchase pleasures far remote from thine.Ye joys, for which the race of Europe pine,Ah! not for me your studied grandeur pour,Let me where yon tall cliffs are rudely piled,Where towers the palm amidst the mountain trees,Where pendant from the steep, with graces wild,The blue liana floats upon the breeze,Still haunt those bold recesses, Nature's child,Where thy majestic charms my spirit seize!
"Paul, at twelve years of age, was stronger and more intelligent than Europeans are at fifteen, and had embellished the plantations which Domingo had only cultivated. He had gone with him to the neighbouring woods, and rooted up young plants of lemon trees, oranges, and tamarinds, the round heads of which are of so fresh a green, together with date palm trees, producing fruit filled with a sweet cream, which has the fine perfume of the orange flower. Those trees, which were already of a considerable size, he planted round this little enclosure. He had also sown the seeds of many trees which the second year bear flowers or fruits. The agathis, encircled with long clusters of white flowers, which hang upon it like the crystal pendants of a lustre. The Persian lilac, which lifts high in air its gay flax-coloured branches. The pappaw tree, the trunk of which, without branches, forms a column set round with green melons, bearing on their heads large leaves like those of the fig tree.
"The seeds and kernels of the gum tree, terminalia, mangoes, alligator pears, the guava, the bread tree, and the narrow-leaved eugenia, were planted with profusion; and the greater number of those trees already afforded to their young cultivator both shade and fruit. His industrious hands had diffused the riches of nature even on the most barren parts of the plantation. Several kinds of aloes, the common Indian fig, adorned with yellow flowers, spotted with red, and the thorny five-angled touch thistle, grew upon the dark summits of the rocks, and seemed to aim at reaching the long lianas, which, loaded with blue or crimson flowers, hung scattered over the steepest part of the mountain. Those trees were disposed in such a manner that you could command the whole at one view. He had placed in the middle of this hollow the plants of the lowest growth: behind grew the shrubs; then trees of an ordinary height: above which rose majestically the venerable lofty groves which border the circumference. Thus from its centre this extensive enclosure appeared like a verdant amphitheatre spread with fruits and flowers, containing a variety of vegetables, a chain of meadow land, and fields of rice and corn. In blending those vegetable productions to his own taste, he followed the designs of Nature. Guided by her suggestions, he had thrown upon the rising grounds such seeds as the winds might scatter over the heights, and near the borders of the springs such grains as float upon the waters. Every plant grew in its proper soil, and every spot seemed decorated by her hands. The waters, which rushed from the summits of the rocks, formed in some parts of the valley limpid fountains, and in other parts were spread into large clear mirrors, which reflected the bright verdure, the trees in blossom, the bending rocks, and the azure heavens.
"Notwithstanding the great irregularity of the ground, most of these plantations were easy of access. We had, indeed, all given him our advice and assistance, in order to accomplish this end. He had formed a path which wound round the valley, and of which various ramifications led from the circumference to the centre. He had drawn some advantage from the most rugged spots; and had blended, in harmonious variety, smooth walks with the asperities of the soil, and wild with domestic productions. With that immense quantity of rolling stones which now block up those paths, and which are scattered over most of the ground of this island, he formed here and there pyramids; and at their base he laid earth, and planted the roots of rose bushes, the Barbadoes flower fence, and other shrubs which love to climb the rocks. In a short time those gloomy shapeless pyramids were covered with verdure, or with the glowing tints of the most beautiful flowers. The hollow recesses of aged trees, which bent over the borders of the stream, formed vaulted caves impenetrable to the sun, and where you might enjoy coolness during the heats of the day. That path led to a clump of forest trees, in the centre of which grew a cultivated tree, loaded with fruit. Here was a field ripe with corn, there an orchard. From that avenue you had a view of the cottages; from this, of the inaccessible summit of the mountain. Beneath that tufted bower of gum trees, interwoven with lianas, no object could be discerned even at noon, while the point of the neighbouring rock, which projects from the mountain commanded a few of the whole enclosure, and of the distant ocean, where sometimes we spied a vessel coming from Europe, or returning thither. On this rock the two families assembled in the evening, and enjoyed, in silence, the freshness of the air, the fragrance of the flowers, the murmurs of the fountains, and the last blended harmonies of light and shade.
"Nothing could be more agreeable than the names which were bestowed upon some of the charming retreats of this labyrinth. That rock, of which I was speaking, and from which my approach was discerned at a considerable distance, was called the Discovery of Friendship. Paul and Virginia, amidst their sports, had planted a bamboo on that spot; and whenever they saw me coming, they hoisted a little white handkerchief, by way of signal of my approach, as they had seen a flag hoisted on the neighbouring mountain at the sight of a vessel at sea. The idea struck me of engraving an inscription upon the stalk of this reed. Whatever pleasure I have felt, during my travels, at the sight of a statue or monument of antiquity, I have felt still more in reading of well written inscription. It seems to me as if a human voice issued from the stone and making itself heard through the lapse of ages, addressed man in the midst of a desert, and told him that I was not alone; that other men, on that very spot, have felt, and thought, and suffered like himself. If the inscription belongs to an ancient nation which no longer exists, it leads the soul through infinite space, and inspires the feeling of its immortality, by showing that a thought has survived the ruins of an impire.
"I inscribed then, on the little mast of Paul and Virginia's flag, those lines of Horace:
Fratres Helenae, lucida sidera,Ventorumque regat pater,Obstrictis alils, praeter Iapyga.
'May the brothers of Helen, lucid stars like you, and the Father of the winds, guide you; and may you only feel the breath of the zephyr.'
"I engraved this line of Virgil upon the bark of a gum tree, under the shade of which Paul sometimes seated himself, in order to contemplate the agitated sea:—
Fortunatue et ille deos qui novit agrestes!
'Happy art thou, my son, to know only the pastoral divinities.'
"And above the door of Madame de la Tour's cottage, where the families used to assemble, I placed this line:
At secura quies, et nescia fallere vita.
'Here is a calm conscience, and a life ignorant of deceit.'
"But Virginia did not approve of my Latin; she said, that what I had placed at the foot of her weather flag was too long and too learned. 'I should have liked better,' added she, 'to have seen inscribed,Always agitated, yet ever constant.'
"The sensibility of those happy families extended itself to every thing around them. They had given names the most tender to objects in appearance the most indifferent. A border of orange, plantain, and bread trees, planted round a greensward where Virginia and Paul sometimes danced, was called Concord. An old tree, beneath the shade of which Madame de la Tour and Margaret used to relate their misfortunes, was called, The Tears wiped away. They gave the names of Britany and Normandy to little portions of ground where they had sown corn, strawberries, and peas. Domingo and Mary, wishing, in imitation of their mistresses, to recall the places of their birth in Africa, gave the names of Angola and Foullepointe to the spots where grew the herb with which they wove baskets, and where they had planted a calbassia tree. Thus, with the productions of their respective climates, those exiled families cherished the dear illusions which bind us to our native country, and softened their regrets in a foreign land. Alas! I have seen animated by a thousand soothing appellations, those trees, those fountains, those stones which are now overthrown, which now, like the plains of Greece, present nothing but ruins and affecting remembrances.
"Neither the neglect of her European friends, nor the delightful romantic spot which she inhabited, could banish from the mind of Madame de la Tour this tender attachment to her native country. While the luxurious fruits of this climate gratified the taste of her family, she delighted to rear those which were more graceful, only because they were the productions of her early home. Among other little pieces addressed to flowers and fruits of northern climes, I found the following sonnet to the Strawberry.
SONNET.TO THE STRAWBERRY.
The strawberry blooms upon its lowly bed:Plant of my native soil! The lime may flingMore potent fragrance on the zephyr's wing,The milky cocoa richer juices shed,The white guava lovelier blossoms spread:But not, like thee, to fond remembrance bringThe vanish'd hours of life's enchanting spring;Short calendar of joys for ever fled!Thou bidst the scenes of childhood rise to view,The wild wood path which fancy loves to trace,Where, veil'd in leaves, thy fruit of rosy hue,Lurk'd on its pliant stem with modest grace.But, ah! when thought would later years renew,Alas! successive sorrows crowd the space.
"But perhaps the most charming spot of this enclosure was that which was called the Repose of Virginia. At the foot of the rock which bore the name of the Discovery of Friendship, is a nook, from whence issues a fountain, forming, near its source, a little spot of marshy soil in the midst of a field of rich grass. At the time Margaret was delivered of Paul, I made her a present of an Indian cocoa which had been given me, and which she planted on the border of this fenny ground, in order that the tree might one day serve to mark the epocha of her son's birth. Madame de la Tour planted another cocoa, with the same view, at the birth of Virginia. Those fruits produced two cocoa trees, which formed all the records of the two families: one was called the tree of Paul, the other the tree of Virginia. They grew in the same proportion as the two young persons, of an unequal height; but they rose, at the end of twelve years, above the cottages. Already their tender stalks were interwoven, and their young branches of cocoas hung over the basin of the fountain. Except this little plantation, the nook of the rock had been left as it was decorated by nature. On its brown and humid sides large plants of maidenhair glistened with their green and dark stars; and tufts of wave-leaved hartstongue, suspended like long ribands of purpled green, floated on the winds. Near this grew a chain of the Madagascar periwinkle, the flowers of which resemble the red gilliflower; and the long-podded capsicum, the cloves of which are of the colour of blood, and more glowing than coral. The herb of balm, with its leaves within the heart, and the sweet basil, which has the odour of the gilliflower, exhaled the most delicious perfumes. From the steep summit of the mountain hung the graceful lianas, like a floating drapery, forming magnificent canopies of verdure upon the sides of the rocks. The sea birds, allured by the stillness of those retreats, resorted thither to pass the night. At the hour of sunset we perceived the curlew and the stint skimming along the sea shore; the cardinal poised high in air; and the white bird of the tropic, which abandons, with the star of day, the solitudes of the Indian ocean. Virginia loved to repose upon the border of this fountain, decorated with wild and sublime magnificence. She often seated herself beneath the shade of the two cocoa trees, and there she sometimes led her goats to graze. While she prepared cheeses of their milk, she loved to see them browse on the maidenhair which grew upon the steep sides of the rock, and hung suspended upon one of its cornices, as on a pedestal. Paul, observing that Virginia was fond of this spot, brought thither, from the neighbouring forest, a great variety of birds' nests. The old birds, following their young, established themselves in this new colony. Virginia, at stated times, distributed amongst them grains of rice, millet, and maize. As soon as she appeared, the whistling blackbird, the amadavid bird, the note of which is so soft: the cardinal, the black frigate bird, with its plumage the colour of flame, forsook their bushes; the paroquet, green as an emerald, descended from the neighbouring fan palms; the partridge ran along the grass: all advanced promiscuously towards her, like a brood of chickens: and she and Paul delighted to observe their sports, their repasts, and their loves.
"Amiable children! thus passed your early days in innocence, and in the exercise of benevolence. How many times, on this very spot, have your mothers, pressing you in their arms, blessed Heaven for the consolations your unfolding virtues prepared for their declining years, while already they enjoyed the satisfaction of seeing you begin life under the most happy auspices! How many times, beneath the shade of those rocks, have I partaken with them of your rural repasts, which cost no animal its life. Gourds filled with milk, fresh eggs, cakes of rice placed upon plantain leaves, baskets loaded with mangoes, oranges, dates, pomegranates, pine-apples, furnished at the same time the most wholesome food, the most beautiful colours, and the most delicious juices.
"The conversation was gentle and innocent as the repasts. Paul often talked of the labours of the day, and those of the morrow. He was continually forming some plan of accommodation for their little society. Here he discovered that the paths were rough; there that the family circle was ill seated: sometimes the young arbours did not afford sufficient shade, and Virginia might be better pleased elsewhere.
"In the rainy seasons the two families assembled together in the hut, and employed themselves in weaving mats of grass, and baskets of bamboo. Rakes, spades, and hatchets were ranged along the walls in the most perfect order; and near those instruments of agriculture were placed the productions which were the fruits of labour: sacks of rice, sheaves of corn, and baskets of the plantain fruit. Some degree of luxury is usually united with plenty; and Virginia was taught by her mother and Margaret to prepare sherbet and cordials from the juice of the sugar-cane, the orange, and the citron.
"When night came, those families supped together by the light of a lamp; after which, Madame de la Tour or Margaret related histories of travellers lost during the night in such of the forests of Europe as are infested by banditti; or told a dismal tale of some shipwrecked vessel, thrown by the tempest upon the rocks of a desert island. To these recitals their children listened with eager sensibility, and earnestly begged that Heaven would grant they might one day have the joy of showing their hospitality towards such unfortunate persons. At length the two families separated and retired to rest, impatient to meet again the next morning. Sometimes they were lulled to repose by the beating rains, which fell in torrents upon the roof of their cottages; and sometimes by the hollow winds, which brought to their ear the distant murmur of the waves breaking upon the shore. They blessed God for their personal safety, of which their feeling became stronger from the idea of remote danger.
"Madame de la Tour occasionally read aloud some affecting history of the Old or New Testament. Her auditors reasoned but little upon those sacred books, for their theology consisted in sentiment, like that of nature: and their morality in action, like that of the gospel. Those families had no particular days devoted to pleasure, and others to sadness. Every day was to them a holiday, and all which surrounded them one holy temple, where they for ever adored an Infinite Intelligence, the friend of human kind. A sentiment of confidence in his supreme power filled their minds with consolation under the past, with fortitude for the present, and with hope for the future. Thus, compelled by misfortune to return to a state of nature, those women had unfolded in their own bosoms, and in those of their children, the feelings which are most natural to the human mind, and which are our best support under evil.
"But as clouds sometimes arise which cast a gloom over the best regulated tempers, whenever melancholy took possession of any member of this little society, the rest endeavoured to banish painful thoughts rather by sentiment than by arguments. Margaret exerted her gaiety; Madame de la Tour employed her mild theology; Virginia, her tender caresses; Paul, his cordial and engaging frankness. Even Mary and Domingo hastened to offer their succour, and to weep with those that wept. Thus weak plants are interwoven, in order to resist the tempests.
"During the fine season they went every Sunday to the church of the Shaddock Grove, the steeple of which you see yonder upon the plain. After service, the poor often came to require some kind office at their hands. Sometimes an unhappy creature sought their advice, sometimes a child led them to its sick mother in the neighbourhood. They always took with them remedies for the ordinary diseases of the country, which they administered in that soothing manner which stamps so much value upon the smallest favours. Above all, they succeeded in banishing the disorders of the mind, which are so intolerable in solitude, and under the infirmities of a weakened frame. Madame de la Tour spoke with such sublime confidence of the Divinity, that the sick, while listening to her, believed that he was present. Virginia often returned home with her eyes wet with tears and her heart overflowing with delight, having had an opportunity of doing good. After those visits of charity, they sometimes prolonged their way by the Sloping Mountain, till they reached my dwelling, where I had prepared dinner for them upon the banks of the little river which glides near my cottage. I produced on those occasions some bottles of old wine, in order to heighten the gaiety of our Indian repast by the cordial productions of Europe. Sometimes we met upon the seashore, at the mouth of little rivers, which are here scarcely larger than brooks. We brought from the plantation our vegetable provisions, to which we added such as the sea furnished in great variety. Seated upon a rock, beneath the shade of the velvet sunflower, we heard the mountain billows break at our feet with a dashing noise; and sometimes on that spot we listened to the plaintive strains of the water curlew Madame de la Tour answered his sorrowful notes in the following sonnet:—
SONNET
TO THE CURLEW.
Sooth'd by the murmurs on the sea-beat shoreHis dun grey plumage floating to the gale,The curlew blends his melancholy wailWith those hoarse sounds the rushing waters pour.Like thee, congenial bird: my steps exploreThe bleak lone seabeach, or the rocky dale,And shun the orange bower, the myrtle vale,Whose gay luxuriance suits my soul no more.I love the ocean's broad expanse, when dress'dIn limpid clearness, or when tempests blow.When the smooth currents on its placid breastFlow calm, as my past moments us'd to flow;Or when its troubled waves refuse to rest,And seem the symbol of my present wo.
"Our repasts were succeeded by the songs and dances of the two young people. Virginia sang the happiness of pastoral life, and the misery of those who were impelled, by avarice, to cross the furious ocean, rather than cultivate the earth, and enjoy its peaceful bounties. Sometimes she performed a pantomime with Paul, in the manner of the negroes. The first language of man is pantomime; it is known to all nations, and is so natural and so expressive, that the children of the European inhabitants catch it with facility from the negroes. Virginia recalling, amongst the histories which her mother had read to her, those which had affected her most, represented the principal events with beautiful simplicity. Sometimes at the sound of Domingo's tantam she appeared upon the greensward, bearing a pitcher upon her head, and advanced with a timid step towards the source of a neighbouring fountain, to draw water. Domingo and Mary, who personated the shepherds of Midian, forbade her to approach, and repulsed her sternly. Upon which Paul flew to her succour, beat away the shepherds, filled Virginia's pitcher, and placing it upon her head, bound her brows at the same time with a wreath of the red flowers of the Madagascar periwinkle, which served to heighten the delicacy of her skin. Then, joining their sports, I took upon me the part of Raguel, and bestowed upon Paul my daughter Zephora in marriage.
"Sometimes Virginia represented the unfortunate Ruth, returning poor and widowed to her own country, where after so long an absence, she found herself as in a foreign land. Domingo and Mary personated the reapers. Virginia followed their steps, gleaning here and there a few ears of corn. She was interrogated by Paul with the gravity of a patriarch, and answered, with a faltering voice, his questions. Soon touched with compassion, he granted an asylum to innocence, and hospitality to misfortune. He filled Virginia's lap with plenty; and, leading her towards us, as before the old men of the city, declared his purpose to take her in marriage. At this scene, Madame de la Tour, recalling the desolate situation in which she had been left by her relations, her widowhood, the kind reception she had met with from Margaret, succeeded by the soothing hope of a happy union between their children, could not forbear weeping; and the sensations which such recollections excited led the whole audience to pour forth those luxurious tears which have their mingled source in sorrow and in joy.
"These dramas were performed with such an air of reality, that you might have fancied yourself transported to the plains of Syria or of Palestine. We were not unfurnished, with either decorations, lights, or an orchestra, suitable to the representation. The scene was generally placed in an opening of the forest, where such parts of the wood as were penetrable formed around us numerous arcades of foliage, beneath which we were sheltered from the heat during the whole day; but when the sun descended towards the horizon, its rays, broken upon the trunks of the trees, diverged amongst the shadows of the forest in strong lines of light, which produced the most sublime effect. Sometimes the whole of its broad disk appeared at the end of an avenue, spreading one dazzling mass of brightness. The foliage of the trees, illuminated from beneath by its saffron beams, glowed with the lustre of the topaz and the emerald. Their brown and mossy trunks appeared transformed into columns of antique bronze; and the birds, which had retired in silence to their leafy shades to pass the night, surprised to see the radiance of a second morning, hailed the star of day with innumerable carols.
"Night soon overtook us during those rural entertainments; but the purity of the air, and the mildness of the climate, admitted of our sleeping in the woods secure from the injuries of the weather, and no less secure from the molestation of robbers. At our return the following day to our respective habitations, we found them exactly in the same state in which they had been left. In this island, which then had no commerce, there was so much simplicity and good faith, that the doors of several houses were without a key, and a lock was an object of curiosity to many of the natives.
"Amidst the luxuriant beauty of this favoured climate, Madame de la Tour often regretted the quick succession from day to night which takes place between the tropics, and which deprived her pensive mind of that hour of twilight, the softened gloom of which is so soothing and sacred to the feelings of tender melancholy. This regret is expressed in the following sonnet:—
SONNET
TO THE TORRID ZONE.
Pathway of light! o'er thy empurpled zoneWith lavish charms perennial summer strays;Soft 'midst thy spicy groves the zephyr plays,While far around the rich perfumes are thrown:The amadavid bird for thee aloneSpreads his gay plumes, that catch thy vivid rays,For thee the gems with liquid lustre blaze,And Nature's various wealth is all thy own.But, ah! not thine is twilight's doubtful gloom,Those mild gradations, mingling day with night;Here instant darkness shrouds thy genial bloom,Nor leaves my pensive soul that lingering light,When musing memory would each trace resumeOf fading pleasures in successive flight.
"Paul and Virginia had neither clock nor almanac, nor books of chronology, history, or philosophy. The periods of their lives were regulated by those of nature. They knew the hours of the day by the shadows of the trees, the seasons by the times when those trees bore flowers or fruit, and the years by the number of their harvests. These soothing images diffused an inexpressible charm over their conversation. 'It is time to dine,' said Virginia, 'the shadows of the plantain trees are at their roots; or, 'night approaches; the tamarinds close their leaves.' 'When will you come to see us?' inquired some of her companions in the neighbourhood. 'At the time of the sugar canes,' answered Virginia. 'Your visit will be then still more delightful,' resumed her young acquaintances. When she was asked what was her own age, and that of Paul, 'My brother,' said she, 'is as old as the great cocoa tree of the fountain; and I am as old as the little cocoa tree. The mangoes have borne fruit twelve times, and the orange trees have borne flowers four-and-twenty times, since I came into the world.' Their lives seemed linked to the trees like those of fauns or dryads. They knew no other historical epochas than that of the lives of their mothers, no other chronology than that of their orchards, and no other philosophy than that of doing good, and resigning themselves to the will of Heaven.
"Thus grew those children of nature. No care had troubled their peace, no intemperance had corrupted their blood, no misplaced passion had depraved their hearts. Love, innocence, and piety, possessed their souls; and those intellectual graces unfolded themselves in their features, their attitudes, and their motions. Still in the morning of life, they had all its blooming freshness; and surely such in the garden of Eden appeared our first parents, when, coming from the hands of God, they first saw, approached, and conversed together, like brother and sister. Virginia was gentle, modest, and confiding as Eve; and Paul, like Adam, united the figure of manhood with the simplicity of a child.
"When alone with Virginia, he has a thousand times told me, he used to say to her, at his return from labour, 'When I am wearied, the sight of you refreshes me. If from the summit of the mountain I perceive you below in the valley, you appear to me in the midst of our orchard like a blushing rosebud. If you go towards our mother's house, the partridge, when it runs to meet its young has a shape less beautiful, and a step less light. When I lose sight of you through the trees, I have no need to see you in order to find you again. Something of you, I know not how, remains for me in the air where you have passed, in the grass where you have been seated. When I come near you, you delight all my senses. The azure of heaven is less charming than the blue of your eyes, and the song of the amadavid bird less soft than the sound of your voice. If I only touch you with my finger, my whole frame trembles with pleasure. Do you remember the day when we crossed over the great stones of the river of the Three Peaks; I was very much tired before we reached the bank; but as soon as I had taken you in my arms, I seemed to have wings like a bird. Tell me by what charm you have so enchanted me? Is it by your wisdom? Our mothers have more than either of us. Is it by your caresses? They embrace me much oftener than you. I think it must be by your goodness. I shall never forget how you walked barefooted to the Black River, to ask pardon for the poor wandering; slave. Here, my beloved, take this flowering orange branch, which I have culled in the forest; you will place it at night near your bed. Eat this honeycomb, which I have taken for you from the top of a rock. But first lean upon my bosom, and I shall be refreshed.'
"Virginia then answered, 'Oh my dear brother, the rays of the sun in the morning at the top of the rocks give me less joy than the sight of you. I love my mother, I love yours; but when they call you their son, I love them a thousand times more. When they caress you, I feel it more sensibly than when I am caressed myself. You ask me why you love me. Why, all creatures that are brought up together love one another. Look at our birds reared up in the same nests; they love like us; they are always together like us. Hark? how they call and answer from one tree to another. So when the echoes bring to my ears the air which you play upon your flute at the top of the mountain, I repeat the words at the bottom of the valley. Above all, you are dear to me since the day when you wanted to fight the master of the slave for me. Since that time how often have I said to myself, 'Ah, my brother has a good heart; but for him I should have died of terror.' I pray to God every day for my mother and yours; for you, and for our poor servants; but when I pronounce your name, my devotion seems to increase, I ask so earnestly of God that no harm may befal you! Why do you go so far, and climb so high, to seek fruits and flowers for me? How much you are fatigued!' and with her little white handkerchief she wiped the damps from his brow.
"For some time past, however, Virginia had felt her heart agitated by new sensations. Her fine blue eyes lost their lustre, her cheek its freshness, and her frame was seized with universal languor. Serenity no longer sat upon her brow, nor smiles played upon her lips. She became suddenly gay without joy, and melancholy without vexation. She fled her innocent sports, her gentle labours, and the society of her beloved family; wandering along the most unfrequented parts of the plantation, and seeking every where that rest which she could no where find. Sometimes, at the sight of Paul, she advanced sportively towards him, and, when going to accost him, was seized with sudden confusion: her pale cheeks were overspread with blushes, and her eyes no longer dared to meet those of her brother. Paul said to her, 'The rocks are covered with verdure, our birds begin to sing when you approach, every thing around you is gay, and you only are unhappy.' He endeavoured to soothe her by his embraces; but she turned away her head, and fled trembling towards her mother. The caresses of her brother excited too much emotion in her agitated heart. Paul could not comprehend the meaning of those new and strange caprices.
"One of those summers, which sometimes desolate the countries situated between the tropics, now spread its ravages over this island. It was near the end of December, when the sun in Capricorn darts over Mauritius, during the space of three weeks, its vertical fires. The south wind, which prevails almost throughout the whole year, no longer blew. Vast columns of dust arose from the highways, and hung suspended in the air: the ground was every where broken into clefts; the grass was burnt; hot exhalations issued from the sides of the mountains, and their rivulets, for the most part became dry: fiery vapours, during the day, ascended from the plains, and appeared, at the setting of the sun, like a conflagration. Night brought no coolness to the heated atmosphere: the orb of the moon seemed of blood, and, rising in a misty horizon, appeared of supernatural magnitude. The drooping cattle, on the sides of the hills, stretching out their necks towards heaven, and panting for air, made the valleys reecho with their melancholy lowings; even the Caffree, by whom they were led, threw himself upon the earth, in search of coolness; but the scorching sun had every where penetrated, and the stifling atmosphere resounded with the buzzing noise of insects, who sought to allay their thirst in the blood of man and of animals.
"On one of those sultry nights Virginia, restless and unhappy, arose, then went again to rest, but could find in no attitude either slumber or repose. At length she bent her way, by the light of the moon, towards her fountain, and gazed at its spring, which, notwithstanding the drought, still flowed like silver threads down the brown sides of the rock. She flung herself into the basin; its coolness reanimated her spirits, and a thousand soothing remembrances presented themselves to her mind. She recollected that in her infancy her mother and Margaret amused themselves by bathing her with Paul in this very spot; that Paul afterwards, reserving this bath for her use only, had dug its bed, covered the bottom with sand, and sown aromatic herbs around the borders. She saw, reflected through the water upon her naked arms and bosom, the two cocoa trees which were planted at her birth and that of her brother, and which interwove about her head their green branches and young fruit. She thought of Paul's friendship, sweeter than the odours, purer than the waters of the fountains, stronger than the intertwining palm trees, and she sighed. Reflecting upon the hour of the night, and the profound solitude, her imagination again grew disordered. Suddenly she flew affrighted from those dangerous shades, and those waters which she fancied hotter than the torrid sunbeam, and ran to her mother, in order to find a refuge from herself. Often, wishing to unfold her sufferings, she pressed her mother's hand within her own; often she was ready to pronounce the name of Paul; but her oppressed heart left not her lips the power of utterance; and, leaning her head on her mother's bosom, she could only bathe it with her tears.
"Madame de la Tour, though she easily discerned the source of her daughter's uneasiness, did not think proper to speak to her on that subject. 'My dear child,' said she, address yourself to God, who disposes, at his will, of health and of life. He tries you now, in order to recompense you hereafter. Remember that we are only placed upon earth for the exercise of virtue.'
"The excessive heat drew vapours from the ocean, which hung over the island like a vast awning, and slithered round the summits of the mountains, while long flakes of fire occasionally issued from their misty peaks. Soon after the most terrible thunder reechoed through the woods, the plains and the valleys; the rains fell from the skies like cataracts; foaming torrents rolled down the sides of the mountain; the bottom of the valley became a sea; the plat of ground on which the cottages were built, a little island: and the entrance of this valley a sluice, along which rushed precipitately the moaning waters, earth, trees, and rocks.
"Meantime the trembling family addressed their prayers to God in the cottage of Madame de la Tour, the roof of which cracked horribly from the struggling winds. So vivid and frequent were the lightnings, that, although the doors and window-shutters were well fastened, every object without was distinctly seen through the jointed beams. Paul, followed by Domingo, went with intrepidity from one cottage to another, notwithstanding the fury of the tempest; here supporting a partition with a buttress, there driving in a stake, and only returning to the family to calm their fears, by the hope that the storm was passing away. Accordingly, in the evening the rains ceased, the trade-winds of the south pursued their ordinary course, the tempestuous clouds were thrown towards the north-east, and the setting sun appeared in the horizon.
"Virginia's first wish was to visit the spot called herRepose. Paul approached her with a timid air, and offered her the assistance of his arm, which she accepted, smiling, and they left the cottage together. The air was fresh and clear; white vapours arose from the ridges of the mountains, furrowed here and there by the foam of the torrents, which were now becoming dry. The garden was altogether destroyed by the hollows which the floods had worn, the roots of the fruit trees were for the most part laid bare, and vast heaps of sand covered the chain of meadows, and choked up Virginia's bath. The two cocoa trees, however, were still erect, and still retained their freshness: but they were no longer surrounded by turf, or arbours, or birds, except a few amadavid birds, who, upon the points of the neighbouring rocks, lamented, in plaintive notes, the loss of their young.
"At the sight of this general desolation, Virginia exclaimed to Paul, 'You brought birds hither, and the hurricane has killed them. You planted this garden, and it is now destroyed. Every thing then upon earth perishes, and it is only heaven that is not subject to change.' 'Why,' answered Paul, 'why cannot I give you something which belongs to heaven? but I am possessed of nothing even upon earth.' Virginia, blushing, resumed, 'You have the picture of Saint Paul.' Scarcely had she pronounced the words, when he flew in search of it to his mother's cottage. This picture was a small miniature, representing Paul the Hermit, and which Margaret, who was very pious, had long worn hung at her neck when she was a girl, and which, since she became a mother, she had placed round the neck of her child. It had even happened, that being while pregnant, abandoned by the whole world, and continually employed in contemplating the image of this benevolent recluse, her offspring had contracted, at least so she fancied, some resemblance to this revered object. She therefore bestowed upon him the name of Paul, giving him for his patron a saint, who had passed his life far from mankind, by whom he had been first deceived, and then forsaken. Virginia, upon receiving this little picture from the hands of Paul, said to him, with emotion, 'My dear brother, I will never part with this while I live; nor will I ever forget that you have given me the only thing which you possess in the world.' At this tone of friendship this unhoped-for return of familiarity and tenderness, Paul attempted to embrace her; but, light as a bird, she fled, and left him astonished, and unable to account for a conduct so extraordinary.
"Meanwhile Margaret said to Madame de la Tour, 'Why do we not unite our children by marriage? They have a tender attachment to each other.' Madame de la Tour replied, 'They are too young, and too poor. What grief would it occasion us to see Virginia bring into the world unfortunate children, whom she would not perhaps have sufficient strength to rear! Your negro, Domingo, is almost too old to labour; Mary is infirm. As for myself, my dear friend, in the space of fifteen years I find my strength much failed; age advances rapidly in hot climates, and, above all, under the pressure of misfortune. Paul is our only hope: let us wait till his constitution is strengthened, and till he can support us by his labour: at present you well know that we have only sufficient to supply the wants of the day: but were we to send Paul for a short time to the Indies, commerce would furnish him with the means of purchasing a slave; and at his return we will unite him to Virginia: for I am persuaded no one on earth can render her so happy as your son. We will consult our neighbour on this subject.
"They accordingly asked my advice, and I was of their opinion. 'The Indian seas,' I observed to them, are calm, and, in choosing a favourable season, the voyage is seldom longer than six weeks. We will furnish Paul with a little venture in my neighbourhood, where he is much beloved. If we were only to supply him with some raw cotton, of which we make no use, for want of mills to work it, some ebony, which is here so common, that it serves us for firing, and some resin, which is found in our woods: all those articles will sell advantageously in the Indies, though to us they are useless.'
"I engaged to obtain permission from Monsieur de la Bourdonnais to undertake this voyage: but I determined previously to mention the affair to Paul; and my surprise was great, when this young man said to me, with a degree of good sense above his age, 'And why do you wish me to leave my family for this precarious pursuit of fortune? Is there any commerce more advantageous than the culture of the ground, which yields sometimes fifty or a hundred fold? If we wish to engage in commerce, we can do so by carrying our superfluities to the town, without my wandering to the Indies. Our mothers tell me, that Domingo is old and feeble; but I am young, and gather strength every day. If any accident should happen during my absence, above all, to Virginia, who already suffers—Oh, no, no!—I cannot resolve to learn them.'
"This answer threw me into great perplexity, for Madame de la Tour had not concealed from me the situation of Virginia, and her desire of separating those young people for a few years. These ideas I did not dare to suggest to Paul.
"At this period, a ship, which arrived from France, brought Madame de la Tour a letter from her aunt. Alarmed by the terrors of approaching death, which could alone penetrate a heart so insensible, recovering from a dangerous disorder, which had left her in a state of weakness, rendered incurable by age, she desired that her niece would return to France; or, if her health forbade her to undertake so long a voyage, she conjured her to send Virginia, on whom she would bestow a good education, procure for her a splendid marriage, and leave her the inheritance of her whole fortune. The perusal of this letter spread general consternation through the family. Domingo and Mary began to weep. Paul, motionless with surprise, appeared as if his heart was ready to burst with indignation; while Virginia, fixing her eyes upon her mother, had not power to utter a word.
"'And can you now leave us?' cried Margaret to Madame de la Tour. 'No, my dear friend, no, my beloved children,' replied Madame de la Tour; 'I will not leave you. I have lived with you, and with you I will die. I have known no happiness but in your affection. If my health be deranged, my past misfortunes are the cause. My heart, deeply wounded by the cruelty of a relation, and the loss of my husband, has found more consolation and felicity with you beneath these humble huts, than all the wealth of my family could now give me in my own country.'
"At this soothing language every eye overflowed with tears of delight. Paul pressed Madame de la Tour in his arms, exclaiming, 'Neither will I leave you! I will not go to the Indies. We will all labour for you, my dear mother; and you shall never feel any wants with us.' But of the whole society, the person who displayed the least transport, and who probably felt the most, was Virginia; and, during the remainder of the day, that gentle gaiety which flowed from her heart, and proved that her peace was restored, completed the general satisfaction.
"The next day, at sunrise, while they were offering up, as usual, their morning sacrifice of praise, which preceded their breakfast, Domingo informed them that a gentleman on horseback, followed by two slaves, was coming towards the plantation. This person was Monsieur de la Bourdonnais. He entered the cottage where he found the family at breakfast. Virginia had prepared, according to the custom of the country, coffee and rice boiled in water: to which she added hot yams and fresh cocoas. The leaves of the plantain tree supplied the want of table-linen; and calbassia shells, split in two, served for utensils. The governor expressed some surprise at the homeliness of the dwelling: then, addressing himself to Madame de la Tour, he observed, that although public affairs drew his attention too much from the concerns of individuals, she had many claims to his good offices. 'You have an aunt at Paris, Madam,' he added, 'a woman of quality, and immensely rich, who expects that you will hasten to see her, and who means to bestow upon you her whole fortune.' Madame de la Tour replied, that the state of her health would not permit her to undertake so long a voyage. 'At least,' resumed Monsieur de la Bourdonnais, 'you cannot, without injustice, deprive this amiable young lady, your daughter, of so noble an inheritance. I will not conceal from you that your aunt has made use of her influence to oblige you to return; and that I have received official letters, in which I am ordered to exert my authority, if necessary, to that effect. But, as I only wish to employ my power for the purpose of rendering the inhabitants of this colony happy, I expect from your good sense the voluntary sacrifice of a few years, upon which depend your daughter's establishment in the world, and the welfare of your whole life. Wherefore do we come to these islands? Is it not to acquire a fortune? And will it not be more agreeable to return and find it in your own country?'
"He then placed a great bag of piastres, which had been brought hither by one of his slaves, upon the table. 'This,' added he, 'is allotted by your aunt for the preparations necessary for the young lady's voyage.' Gently reproaching Madame de la Tour for not having had recourse to him in her difficulties, he extolled at the same time her noble fortitude. Upon this, Paul said to the governor, 'My mother did, address herself to you, Sir, and you received her ill.'—'Have you another child, Madam? said Monsieur de la Bourdonnais to Madame de la Tour.—'No, Sir,' she replied: 'this is the child of my friend; but he and Virginia are equally dear to us.' 'Young man,' said the governor to Paul, 'when you have acquired a little more experience of the world, you will know that it is the misfortune of people in place to be deceived and thence to bestow upon intriguing vice that which belongs to modest merit.'
"Monsieur de la Bourdonnais, at the request of Madame de la Tour, placed himself next her at the table, and breakfasted in the manner of the Creoles, upon coffee mixed with rice boiled in water. He was delighted with the order and neatness which prevailed in the little cottage, the harmony of the two interesting families, and the zeal of their old servants. 'Here,' exclaimed he, 'I discern only wooden furniture, but I find serene contenances, and hearts of gold.' Paul, enchanted with the affability of the governor, said to him, 'I wish to be your friend; you are a good man.' Monsieur de la Bourdonnais received with pleasure this insular compliment, and, taking Paul by the hand, assured him that he might rely upon his friendship.
"After breakfast, he took Madame de la Tour aside, and informed her that an opportunity presented itself of sending her daughter to France in a ship which was going to sail in a short time; that he would recommend her to a lady a relation of his own, who would be a passenger; and that she must not think of renouncing an immense fortune on account of bring separated from her daughter a few years. 'Your aunt,'he added, 'cannot live more than two years; of this I am assured by her friends. Think of it seriously. Fortune does not visit us every day. Consult your friends. Every person of good sense will be of my opinion.' She answered, 'that, desiring no other happiness henceforth in the world than that of her daughter, she would leave her departure for France entirely to her own inclination.
"Madame de la Tour was not sorry to find an opportunity of separating Paul and Virginia for a short time, and provide, by this means, for their mutual felicity at a future period. She took her daughter aside, and said to her, 'My dear child, our servants are now old. Paul is still very young; Margaret is advanced in years, and I am already infirm. If I should die, what will become of you, without fortune, in the midst of these deserts? You will then be left alone without any person who can afford you much succour, and forced to labour without ceasing, in order to support your wretched existence. This idea fills my soul with sorrow.' Virginia answered, 'God has appointed us to labour. You have taught me to labour, and to bless him every day. He never has forsaken us, he never will forsake us. His providence peculiarly watches the unfortunate. You have told me this often my dear mother! I cannot resolve to leave you.' Madame de la Tour replied, with much emotion, 'I have no other aim than to render you happy, and to marry you one day to Paul, who is not your brother. Reflect at present that his fortune depends upon you.'
"A young girl who loves believes that all the world is ignorant of her passion; she throws over her eyes the veil which she has thrown over her heart; but when it is lifted up by some cherishing hand, the secret inquietudes of passion suddenly burst their bounds, and the soothing overflowings of confidence succeed that reserve and mystery with which the oppressed heart had enveloped its feelings. Virginia, deeply affected by this new proof of her mother's tenderness, related to her how cruel had been those struggles which Heaven alone had witnessed; declared that she saw the succour of Providence in that of an affectionate mother, who approved of her attachment, and would guide her by her counsels; that, being now strengthened by such support, every consideration led her to remain with her mother, without anxiety for the present, and without apprehensions for the future.
"Madame de la Tour, perceiving that this confidential conversation had produced an effect altogether different from that which she expected, said, 'My dear child, I will not any more constrain your inclination: deliberate at leisure, but conceal your feelings from Paul.'
"Towards evening, when Madame de la Tour and Virginia were again together, their confessor, who was a missionary in the island, entered the room, having been sent by the governor. 'My children,' he exclaimed, as he entered, 'God be praised!' you are now rich. You can now listen to the kind suggestion of your excellent hearts, and do good to the poor. I know what Monsieur de la Bourdonnais has said to you, and what you have answered. Your health, dear Madam, obliges you to remain here: but you, young lady, are without excuse. We must obey the will of Providence; and we must also obey our aged relations, even when they are unjust. A sacrifice is required of you; but it is the order of God. He devoted himself for you: and you, in imitation of his example, must devote yourself for the welfare of your family. Your voyage to France will have a happy termination. You will surely consent to go, my dear young lady.'
"Virginia, with downcast eyes, answered, trembling, 'If it be the command of God, I will not presume to oppose it. Let the will of God be done!' said she, weeping.
"The priest went away, and informed the governor of the success of his mission. In the meantime Madame de la Tour sent Domingo to desire I would come hither, that she might consult me upon Virginia's departure. I was of opinion that she ought not to go. I consider it as a fixed principle of happiness, that we ought to prefer the advantages of nature to those of fortune; and never go in search of that at a distance, which we may find in our own bosoms. But what could be expected from my moderate counsels, opposed to the illusions of a splendid fortune; and my simple reasoning, contradicted by the prejudices of the world, and an authority which Madame de la Tour held sacred? This lady had only consulted me from a sentiment of respect, and had, in reality, ceased to deliberate since she had heard the decision of her confessor. Margaret herself, who, notwithstanding the advantages she hoped for her son, from the possession of Virginia's fortune, had hitherto opposed her departure, made no further objections. As for Paul, ignorant of what was decided, and alarmed at the secret conversation which Madame de la Tour held with her daughter, he abandoned himself to deep melancholy. 'They are plotting something against my peace,' cried he, 'since they are so careful of concealment.'
"A report having in the meantime been spread over the island, that fortune had visited those rocks, we beheld merchants of all kinds climbing their steep ascent, and displaying in those humble huts the richest stuffs of India. The fine dimity of Gondelore; the handkerchiefs of Pellicate and Mussulapatan; the plain, striped, and embroidered muslins of Decca, clear as the day. Those merchants unrolled the gorgeous silks of China, white satin damasks, others of grass-green, and bright red; rose-coloured taffetas, a profusion of satins, pelongs, and gauze of Tonquin, some plain, and some beautifully decorated with flowers; the soft pekins, downy like cloth; white and yellow nankeens, and the calicoes of Madagascar.
"Madame de la Tour wished her daughter to purchase every thing she liked; and Virginia made choice of whatever she believed would be agreeable to her mother, Margaret, and her son. 'This,' said she, 'will serve for furniture, and that will be useful to Mary and Domingo.' In short, the bag of piastres was emptied before she had considered her own wants; and she was obliged to receive a share of the presents which she had distributed to the family circle.
"Paul, penetrated with sorrow at the sight of those gifts of fortune, which he felt were the presage of Virginia's departure, came a few days after to my dwelling. With an air of despondency he said to me, 'My sister is going; they are already making preparations for her voyage. I conjure you to come and exert your influence over her mother and mine, in order to detain her here.' I could not refuse the young man's solicitations, although well convinced that my representations would be unavailing.
"If Virginia had appeared to me charming when clad in the blue cloth of Bengal, with a red handkerchief tied round her head, how much was her beauty improved, when decorated with the graceful ornaments worn by the ladies of this country! She was dressed in white muslin, lined with rose-coloured taffeta. Her small and elegant shape was displayed to advantage by her corset, and the lavish profusion of her light tresses were carelessly blended with her simple head-dress. Her fine blue eyes were filled with an expression of melancholy: and the struggles of passion, with which her heart was agitated, flushed her cheek, and gave her voice a tone of emotion. The contrast between her pensive look and her gay habiliments rendered her more interesting than ever, nor was it possible to see or hear her unmoved. Paul became more and more melancholy; at length Margaret, distressed by the situation of her son, took him aside, and said to him, 'Why, my dear son, will you cherish vain hopes, which will only render your disappointment more bitter! It is time that I should make known to you the secret of your life and of mine. Mademoiselle de la Tour belongs, by her mother, to a rich and noble family, while you are but the son of a poor peasant girl; and, what is worse, you are a natural child.'
"Paul, who had never before heard this last expression, inquired with eagerness its meaning. His mother replied, 'You had no legitimate father. When I was a girl, seduced by love, I was guilty of a weakness of which you are the offspring. My fault deprived you of the protection of a father's family, and my flight from home, of that of a mother's family. Unfortunate child! you have no relation in the world but me!' And she shed a flood of tears. Paul, pressing her in his arms, exclaimed, 'Oh, my dear mother! since I have no relation in the world but you, I will love you still more! But what a secret have you disclosed to me! I now see the reason why Mademoiselle de la Tour has estranged herself from me for two months past, and why she has determined to go. Ah! I perceive too well that she despises me!'
"'The hour of supper being arrived, we placed ourselves at table; but the different sensations with which we were all agitated left us little inclination to eat, and the meal passed in silence. Virginia first went out, and seated herself on the very spot where we now are placed. Paul hastened after her, and seated himself by her side. It was one of those delicious nights which are so common between the tropics, and the beauty of which no pencil can trace. The moon appeared in the midst of the firmament, curtained in clouds which her beams gradually dispelled. Her light insensibly spread itself over the mountains of the island, and their peaks glistened with a silvered green. The winds were perfectly still. We heard along the woods, at the bottom of the valleys, and on the summits of the rocks, the weak cry and the soft murmurs of the birds, exulting in the brightness of the night, and the serenity of the atmosphere. The hum of insects was heard in the grass. The stars sparkled in the heavens, and their trembling and lucid orbs were reflected upon the bosom of the ocean. Virginia's eyes wandered over its vast and gloomy horizon, distinguishable from the bay of the island by the red fires in the fishing boat. She perceived at the entrance of the harbour a light and a shadow: these were the watch-light and the body of the vessel in which she was to embark for Europe, and which, ready to set sail, lay at anchor, waiting for the wind. Affected at this sight, she turned away her head, in order to hide her tears from Paul.
"Madame de la Tour, Margaret, and myself were seated at a little distance beneath the plantain trees; and amidst the stillness of the night we distinctly heard their conversation, which I have not forgotten.
"Paul said to her, 'You are going, they tell me, in three days. You do not fear, then, to encounter the danger of the sea, at which you are so much terrified!' 'I must fulfil my duty,' answered Virginia, 'by obeying my parent.' 'You leave us,' resumed Paul, 'for a distant relation, whom you have never seen.' 'Alas!' cried Virginia, 'I would have remained my whole life here, but my mother would not have it so. My confessor told me that it was the will of God I should go, and that life was a trial!'
"'What,' exclaimed Paul, 'you have found so many reasons then for going, and not one for remaining here! Ah! there is one reason for your departure, which you have not mentioned. Riches have great attractions. You will soon find in the new world, to which you are going, another to whom you will give the name of brother, which you will bestow on me no more. You will choose that brother from amongst persons who are worthy of you by their birth, and by a fortune which I have not to offer. But where will you go in order to be happier? On what shore will you land which will be dearer to you than the spot which gave you birth? Where will you find a society more interesting to you than this by which you are so beloved? How will you bear to live without your mother's caresses, to which you are so accustomed? What will become of her, already advanced in years, when she will no longer see you at her side at table, in the house, in the walks where she used to lean upon you? What will become of my mother who loves you with the same affection? What shall I say to comfort them when I see them weeping for your absence! Cruel! I speak not to you of myself; but what will become of me, when in the morning I shall no more see you: when the evening will come and will not reunite us? When I shall gaze on the two palm trees, planted at our birth, and so long the witnesses of our mutual friendship? Ah; since a new destiny attracts you, since you seek in a country, distant from your own, other possessions than those which were the fruits of my labour, let me accompany you in the vessel in which you are going to embark. I will animate your courage in the midst of those tempests at which you are so terrified even on shore. I will lay your head on my bosom. I will warm your heart upon my own; and in France, where you go in search of fortune and of grandeur, I will attend you as your slave. Happy only in your happiness, you will find me in those palaces where I shall see you cherished and adored, at least sufficiently noble to make for you the greatest of all sacrifices, by dying at your feet.'
"The violence of his emotion stifled his voice, and we then heard that of Virginia, which, broken by sobs, uttered these words: 'It is for you I go: for you, whom I see every day bent beneath the labour of sustaining two infirm families. If I have accepted this opportunity of becoming rich, it is only to return you a thousandfold the good which you have done us. Is there any fortune worthy of your friendship? Why do you talk to me of your birth? Ah! if it were again possible to give me a brother, should I make choice of any other than you? Oh, Paul! Paul! you are far dearer to me than a brother! How much has it cost me to avoid you! Help me to tear myself from what I value more than existence, till Heaven can bless our union. But I will stay or go: I will live or die; dispose of me as you will. Unhappy, that I am! I could resist your caresses, but I am unable to support your affliction.'
"At these words Paul seized her in his arms, and, holding her pressed fast to his bosom, cried, in a piercing tone, 'I will go with her; nothing shall divide us.' We ran towards him, and Madame de la Tour said to him, 'My son, if you go, what will become of us?'
"He, trembling, repeated the words, 'My son:—My son'—You my mother,' cried he; 'you, who would separate the brother from the sister! We have both been nourished at your bosom; we have both been reared upon your knees; we have learnt of you to love each other; we have said so a thousand times; and now you would separate her from me! You send her to Europe, that barbarous country which refused you an asylum, and to relations by whom you were abandoned. You will tell me that I have no right over her, and that she is not my sister. She is everything to me, riches, birth, family, my sole good; I know no other. We have had but one roof, one cradle, and we will have but one grave. If she goes, I will follow her. The governor will prevent me! Will he prevent me from flinging myself into the sea? Will he prevent me from following her by swimming? The sea cannot be more fatal to me than the land. Since I cannot live with her, at least I will die before her eyes; far from you, inhuman mother! woman without compassion! May the ocean, to which you trust her, restore her to you no more! May the waves, rolling back our corpses amidst the stones of the beach, give you, in the loss of your two children, an eternal subject of remorse!'
"At these words I seized him in my arms, for despair had deprived him of reason. His eyes flashed fire, big drops of sweat hung upon his face, his knees trembled, and I felt his heart beat violently against his burning bosom.
"Virginia, affrighted, said to him, 'Oh, my friend, I call to witness the pleasures of our early age, your sorrow and my own, and every thing that can forever bind two unfortunate beings to each other, that if I remain, I will live but for you; that if I go, I will one day return to be yours. I call you all to witness, you who have reared my infancy, who dispose of my life, who see my tears. I swear by that Heaven which hears me, by the sea which I am going to pass, by the air I breathe, and which I never sullied by a falsehood.'
"As the sun softens and dissolves an icy rock upon the summit of the Apennines, so the impetuous passions of the young man were subdued by the voice of her he loved. He bent his head, and a flood of tears fell from his eyes. His mother, mingling her tears with his, held him in her arms, but was unable to speak. Madame de la Tour, half distracted, said to me, 'I can bear this no longer. My heart is broken. This unfortunate Voyage shall not take place. Do take my son home with you. It is eight days since any one here has slept.'
"I said to Paul, 'My dear friend, your sister will remain. To-morrow we will speak to the governor; leave your family, to take some rest, and come and pass the night with me.'
"He suffered himself to be led away in silence; and, after a night of great agitation, he arose at break of day, and returned home.
"But why should I continue any longer the recital of this history? There is never but one aspect of human life which we can contemplate with pleasure. Like the globe upon which we revolve, our fleeting course is but a day: and if one part of that day be visited by light, the other is thrown into darkness."
"Father," I answered, "finish, I conjure you, the history which you have begun in a manner so interesting. If the images of happiness are most pleasing, those of misfortune are more instructive. Tell me what became of the unhappy young man."
"The first object which Paul beheld in his way home was Mary, who, mounted upon a rock, was earnestly looking towards the sea. As soon as he perceived her, he called to her from a distance, 'Where is Virginia?' Mary turned her head towards her young master, and began to weep. Paul, distracted, and treading back his steps, ran to the harbour. He was there informed, that Virginia had embarked at break of day, that the vessel had immediately after set sail, and could no longer be discerned. He instantly returned to the plantation, which he crossed without uttering a word.
"Although the pile of rocks behind us appears almost perpendicular, those green platforms which separate their summits are so many stages by means of which you may reach, through some difficult paths, that cone of hanging and inaccessible rocks, called the Thumb. At the foot of that cone is a stretching slope of ground, covered with lofty trees, and which is so high and steep that it appears like a forest in air, surrounded by tremendous precipices. The clouds, which are attracted round the summit of those rocks, supply innumerable rivulets, which rush from so immense a height into that deep valley situated behind the mountain, that from this elevated point we do not hear the sound of their fall. On that spot you can discern a considerable part of the island with its precipices crowned with their majestic peaks; and, amongst others, Peterbath, and the three Peaks, with their valley filled with woods. You also command an extensive view of the ocean, and even perceive the Isle of Bourbon forty leagues towards the west. From the summit of that stupendous pile of rocks Paul gazed upon the vessel which had borne away Virginia, and which, now ten leagues out at sea, appeared like a black spot in the midst of the ocean. He remained a great part of the day with his eyes fixed upon this object: when it had disappeared, he still fancied he beheld it: and when, at length, the traces which clung to his imagination were lost amidst the gathering mists of the horizon, he seated himself on that wild point, for ever beaten by the winds, which never cease to agitate the tops of the cabbage and gum trees, and the hoarse and moaning murmurs of which, similar to the distant sound of organs, inspire a deep melancholy. On that spot. I found Paul, with his head reclined on the rock, and his eyes fixed upon the ground. I had followed him since break of day, and after much importunity, I prevailed with him to descend from the heights, and return to his family. I conducted him to the plantation, where the first impulse of his mind, upon seeing Madame de la Tour, was to reproach her bitterly for having deceived him. Madame de la Tour told us, that a favourable wind having arose at three o'clock in the morning, and the vessel being ready to set sail, the governor, attended by his general officers, and the missionary, had come with a palanquin in search of Virginia, and that, notwithstanding her own objections, her tears, and those of Margaret, all the while exclaiming that it was for the general welfare they had carried away Virginia almost dying. 'At least,' cried Paul, 'if I had bid her farewell, I should now be more calm. I would have said to her, Virginia, if, during the time we have lived together, one word may have escaped me which has offended you, before you leave me for ever, tell me that you forgive me. I would have said to her, since I am destined to see you no more, farewell, my dear Virginia, farewell! Live far from me, contented and happy!'
"When he saw that his mother and Madame de la Tour were weeping, 'You must now,' said he, 'seek some other than me to wipe away your tears;' and then, rushing out of the house, he wandered up and down the plantation. He flew eagerly to those spots which had been most dear to Virginia. He said to the goats and their kids which followed him, bleating, 'What do you ask of me? You will see her no more who used to feed you with her own hand.' He went to the bower called the Repose of Virginia; and, as the birds flew around him, exclaimed, 'Poor little birds! you will fly no more to meet her who cherished you!' and observing Fidele running backwards and forwards in search of her, he heaved a deep sigh, and cried, 'Ah! you will never find her again.' At length he went and seated himself upon the rock where he had conversed with her the preceding evening; and at the view of the ocean, upon which he had seen the vessel disappear, which bore her away, he wept bitterly.
"We continually watched his steps, apprehending some fatal consequence from the violent agitation of his mind. His mother and Madame de la Tour conjured him, in the most tender manner, not to increase their affliction by his despair. At length Madame de la Tour soothed his mind by lavishing upon him such epithets as were best calculated to revive his hopes. She called him her son, her dear son, whom she destined for her daughter. She prevailed with him to return to the house, and receive a little nourishment. He seated himself with us at table, next to the place which used to be occupied by the companion of his childhood, and, as if she had still been present, he spoke to her, and offered whatever he knew was most agreeable to her taste; and then, starting from this dream of fancy, he began to weep. For some days he employed himself in gathering together every thing which had belonged to Virginia; the last nosegays she had worn, the cocoa shell in which she used to drink; and after kissing a thousand times those relics of his friend, to him the most precious treasures which the world contained, he hid them in his bosom. The spreading perfumes of the amber are not so sweet as the objects which have belonged to those we love. At length, perceiving that his anguish increased that of his mother and Madame de la Tour, and that the wants of the family required continual labour, he began, with the assistance of Domingo, to repair the garden.
"Soon after, this young man, till now indifferent as a Creole with respect to what was passing in the world, desired I would teach him to read and write, that he might carry on a correspondence with Virginia. He then wished to be instructed in geography, in order that he might form a just idea of the country where she had disembarked; and in history, that he might know the manners of the society in which she was placed. The powerful sentiment of love, which directed his present studies, had already taught him the arts of agriculture, and the manner of laying out the most irregular grounds with advantage and beauty. It must be admitted, that to the fond dreams of this restless and ardent passion, mankind are indebted for a great number of arts and sciences, while its disappointments have given birth to philosophy, which teaches us to bear the evils of life with resignation. Thus, nature having made love the general link which binds all beings, has rendered it the first spring of society, the first incitement of knowledge as well as pleasure.
"Paul found little satisfaction in the study of geography, which, instead of describing the natural history of each country, only gave a view of its political boundaries. History, and especially modern history, interested him little more. He there saw only general and periodical evils of which he did not discern the cause; wars for which there was no reason and no object; nations without principle, and princes without humanity. He preferred the reading of romances, which being filled with the particular feelings and interests of men, represented situations similar to his own. No book gave him so much pleasure as Telemachus, from the pictures which it draws of pastoral life, and of those passions which are natural to the human heart. He read aloud to his mother and Madame de la Tour those parts which affected him most sensibly, when, sometimes, touched by the most tender remembrances, his emotion choked his utterance, and his eyes were bathed in tears. He fancied he had found in Virginia the wisdom of Antiope, with the misfortunes and the tenderness of Eurcharis. With very different sensations he perused our fashionable novels, filled with licentious maxims and manners. And when he was informed that those romances drew a just picture of European society, he trembled, not without reason, lest Virginia should become corrupted, and should forget him.