<p><SPAN name="link2HCH0022" id="link2HCH0022"></SPAN></p>
<h2> CHAPTER 22 </h2>
<h3> Offences are easily pardoned where there is love at bottom </h3>
<p>The next morning I took my daughter behind me, and set out on my return
home. As we travelled along, I strove, by every persuasion, to calm her
sorrows and fears, and to arm her with resolution to bear the presence of
her offended mother. I took every opportunity, from the prospect of a fine
country, through which we passed, to observe how much kinder heaven was to
us, than we to each other, and that the misfortunes of nature's making
were very few. I assured her, that she should never perceive any change in
my affections, and that during my life, which yet might be long, she might
depend upon a guardian and an instructor. I armed her against the censures
of the world, shewed her that books were sweet unreproaching companions to
the miserable, and that if they could not bring us to enjoy life, they
would at least teach us to endure it.</p>
<p>The hired horse that we rode was to be put up that night at an inn by the
way, within about five miles from my house, and as I was willing to
prepare my family for my daughter's reception, I determined to leave her
that night at the inn, and to return for her, accompanied by my daughter
Sophia, early the next morning. It was night before we reached our
appointed stage: however, after seeing her provided with a decent
apartment, and having ordered the hostess to prepare proper refreshments,
I kissed her, and proceeded towards home. And now my heart caught new
sensations of pleasure the nearer I approached that peaceful mansion. As a
bird that had been frighted from its nest, my affections out-went my
haste, and hovered round my little fire-side, with all the rapture of
expectation. I called up the many fond things I had to say, and
anticipated the welcome I was to receive. I already felt my wife's tender
embrace, and smiled at the joy of my little ones. As I walked but slowly,
the night wained apace. The labourers of the day were all retired to rest;
the lights were out in every cottage; no sounds were heard but of the
shrilling cock, and the deep-mouthed watch-dog, at hollow distance. I
approached my little abode of pleasure, and before I was within a furlong
of the place, our honest mastiff came running to welcome me.</p>
<p>It was now near mid-night that I came to knock at my door: all was still
and silent: my heart dilated with unutterable happiness, when, to my
amazement, I saw the house bursting out in a blaze of fire, and every
apperture red with conflagration! I gave a loud convulsive outcry, and
fell upon the pavement insensible. This alarmed my son, who had till this
been asleep, and he perceiving the flames, instantly waked my wife and
daughter, and all running out, naked, and wild with apprehension, recalled
me to life with their anguish. But it was only to objects of new terror;
for the flames had, by this time, caught the roof of our dwelling, part
after part continuing to fall in, while the family stood, with silent
agony, looking on, as if they enjoyed the blaze. I gazed upon them and
upon it by turns, and then looked round me for my two little ones; but
they were not to be seen. O misery! 'Where,' cried I, 'where are my little
ones?'—'They are burnt to death in the flames,' says my wife calmly,
'and I will die with them.'—That moment I heard the cry of the babes
within, who were just awaked by the fire, and nothing could have stopped
me. 'Where, where, are my children?' cried I, rushing through the flames,
and bursting the door of the chamber in which they were confined, 'Where
are my little ones?'—'Here, dear papa, here we are,' cried they
together, while the flames were just catching the bed where they lay. I
caught them both in my arms, and snatched them through the fire as fast as
possible, while just as I was got out, the roof sunk in. 'Now,' cried I,
holding up my children, 'now let the flames burn on, and all my
possessions perish. Here they are, I have saved my treasure. Here, my
dearest, here are our treasures, and we shall yet be happy.' We kissed our
little darlings a thousand times, they clasped us round the neck, and
seemed to share our transports, while their mother laughed and wept by
turns.</p>
<p>I now stood a calm spectator of the flames, and after some time, began to
perceive that my arm to the shoulder was scorched in a terrible manner. It
was therefore out of my power to give my son any assistance, either in
attempting to save our goods, or preventing the flames spreading to our
corn. By this time, the neighbours were alarmed, and came running to our
assistance; but all they could do was to stand, like us, spectators of the
calamity. My goods, among which were the notes I had reserved for my
daughters' fortunes, were entirely consumed, except a box, with some
papers that stood in the kitchen, and two or three things more of little
consequence, which my son brought away in the beginning. The neighbours
contributed, however, what they could to lighten our distress. They
brought us cloaths, and furnished one of our out-houses with kitchen
utensils; so that by day-light we had another, tho' a wretched, dwelling
to retire to. My honest next neighbour, and his children, were not the
least assiduous in providing us with every thing necessary, and offering
what ever consolation untutored benevolence could suggest.</p>
<p>When the fears of my family had subsided, curiosity to know the cause of
my long stay began to take place; having therefore informed them of every
particular, I proceeded to prepare them for the reception of our lost one,
and tho' we had nothing but wretchedness now to impart, I was willing to
procure her a welcome to what we had. This task would have been more
difficult but for our recent calamity, which had humbled my wife's pride,
and blunted it by more poignant afflictions. Being unable to go for my
poor child myself, as my arm grew very painful, I sent my son and
daughter, who soon returned, supporting the wretched delinquent, who had
not the courage to look up at her mother, whom no instructions of mine
could persuade to a perfect reconciliation; for women have a much stronger
sense of female error than men. 'Ah, madam,' cried her mother, 'this is
but a poor place you are come to after so much finery. My daughter Sophy
and I can afford but little entertainment to persons who have kept company
only with people of distinction. Yes, Miss Livy, your poor father and I
have suffered very much of late; but I hope heaven will forgive you.'—During
this reception, the unhappy victim stood pale and trembling, unable to
weep or to reply; but I could not continue a silent spectator of her
distress, wherefore assuming a degree of severity in my voice and manner,
which was ever followed with instant submission, 'I entreat, woman, that
my words may be now marked once for all: I have here brought you back a
poor deluded wanderer; her return to duty demands the revival of our
tenderness. The real hardships of life are now coming fast upon us, let us
not therefore encrease them by dissention among each other. If we live
harmoniously together, we may yet be contented, as there are enough of us
to shut out the censuring world, and keep each other in countenance. The
kindness of heaven is promised to the penitent, and let ours be directed
by the example. Heaven, we are assured, is much more pleased to view a
repentant sinner, than ninety nine persons who have supported a course of
undeviating rectitude. And this is right; for that single effort by which
we stop short in the downhill path to perdition, is itself a greater
exertion of virtue, than an hundred acts of justice.'</p>
<div style="break-after:column;"></div><br />
1 of 2
2 of 2
Previous
Next
Update Required
To play the media you will need to either update your browser to a recent version or update your Flash plugin.