CHAPTER III.
This period of tranquillity was short. Poverty hovered at theirthreshold, and in a state precarious as theirs could not be longexcluded. The lady was more accustomed to anticipate good than evil, butshe was not unconscious that the winter, which was hastening, wouldbring with it numerous inconveniences. Wants during that season aremultiplied, while the means of supplying them either fail or arediminished. Fuel is alone a cause of expense equal to all other articlesof subsistence. Her dwelling was old, crazy, and full of avenues to air.It was evident that neither fire nor clothing would, in an habitationlike that, attemper the chilling blasts. Her scanty gains were equal totheir needs during summer, but would probably fall short during theprevalence of cold.
These reflections could not fail sometimes to intrude. She indulged themas long as they served, merely to suggest expedients and provisions forthe future, but laboured to call away her attention when they merelyproduced anxiety. This she more easily effected, as some months ofsummer were still to come, and her knowledge of the vicissitudes towhich human life is subject taught her to rely upon the occurrence ofsome fortunate though unforeseen event.
Accident suggested an expedient of this kind. Passing through an alleyin the upper part of the town, her eye was caught by a label on the doorof a small house, signifying that it was to be let. It was smaller thanthat she at present occupied, but it had an aspect of much greatercomfort and neatness. Its situation near the centre of the city, in aquiet, cleanly, and well paved alley, was far preferable to that of herpresent habitation in the suburbs, scarcely accessible in winter forpools and gullies, and in a neighbourhood abounding with indigence andprofligacy. She likewise considered that the rent of this might be less,and that the proprietor of this might have more forbearance andbenignity than she had hitherto met with.
Unconversant as she was with the world, imbued with the timidity of hersex and her youth, many enterprises were arduous to her, which would, toage and experience, have been easy. Her reluctances, however, whenrequired by necessity, were overcome, and all the measures which hersituation prescribed executed with address and dispatch. One, markingher deportment, would have perceived nothing but dignity and courage. Hewould have regarded these as the fruits of habitual independence andexertion, whereas they were merely the results of clear perceptions andinflexible resolves.
The proprietor of this mansion was immediately sought out, and abargain, favourable as she could reasonably desire, concluded.Possession was to be taken in a week. For this end, carters and draymenwere to be engaged, household implements to be prepared for removal, andnegligence and knavery prevented by scrupulous attention. The duties ofsuperintendence and execution devolved upon her. Her father's blindnessrendered him powerless. His personal ease required no small portion ofcare. Household and professional functions were not to be omitted. Shestood alone in the world; there was none whose services or counsel shecould claim. Tortured by a multiplicity of cares, shrinking fromexposure to rude eyes, and from contention with refractory and insolentspirits, and overpowered with fatigue and disgust, she was yet compelledto retain a cheerful tone in her father's presence, and to strugglewith his regrets and his peevishness.
O, my friend, methinks I now see thee encountering the sneers andobstinacy of the meanest of mankind, subjecting that frame of thine, soexquisitely delicate, and therefore so feeble, to the vilest drudgery. Isee thee leading thy unhappy father to his new dwelling, and stiflingthe sighs produced by his fruitless repinings and unseasonable scruples.Why was I not partaker of thy cares and labours? Why was I severed fromthee by the ocean, and kept in ignorance of thy state? I was not withoutmotives to anxiety, for I was friendless as thou, but how unlike tothine was my condition! I reposed upon down and tissue, never moved butwith obsequious attendance and pompous equipage; painting and music wereconsolations ever at hand, and my cabinet was stored with poetry andscience. These, indeed, were insufficient to exclude care; and withregard to the past I have no wish but that I had shared with my friendher toilsome and humiliating lot. However an erroneous world mightjudge, thy life was full of dignity, and thy moments of happiness notfew, since happiness is only attendant on the performance of our duty.
A toilsome and sultry week was terminated by a Sabbath of repose. Hernew dwelling possessed indisputable advantages over her old. Not theleast of these benefits consisted in the vicinity of people, peaceableand honest, though poor. She was no longer shocked by the clamours ofdebauchery, and exposed, by her situation, to the danger of beingmistaken by the profligate of either sex for one of their own class. Itwas reasonable to consider this change of abode as fortunate, and yetcircumstances quickly occurred which suggested a very differentconclusion.
She had no intercourse, which necessity did not prescribe, with therest of the world. She screened herself as much as possible fromintercourse with prying and loquacious neighbours. Her father'sinclinations in this respect coincided with her own, though their loveof seclusion was prompted by different motives. Visitants were hated bythe father, because his dignity was hurt by communication with thevulgar. The daughter set too much value upon time willingly to waste itupon trifles and triflers. She had no pride to subdue, and thereforenever escaped from well-meant importunity at the expense of politenessand good humour. In her moments of leisure she betook herself to thepoet and the moralist for relief.
She could not at all times suppress the consciousness of the evils whichsurrounded and threatened her; she could not but rightly estimate theabsorbing and brutifying nature of that toil to which she was condemned.Literature had hitherto been regarded as her solace. She knew thatmeditation and converse, as well as books and the pen, are instrumentsof knowledge, but her musing thoughts were too often fixed upon her owncondition. Her father's soaring moods and luminous intervals grew lessfrequent. Conversation was too rarely abstracted from personalconsiderations, and strayed less often than before into the wilds offancy or the mazes of analysis.
These circumstances led her to reflect whether subsistence might not beobtained by occupations purely intellectual. Instruction was needed bythe young of both sexes. Females frequently performed the office ofteachers. Was there no branch of her present knowledge which she mightclaim wages for imparting to others? Was there no art within her reachto acquire, convertible into means of gain? Women are generally limitedto what is sensual and ornamental: music and painting, and the Italianand French languages, are bounds which they seldom pass. In thesepursuits it is not possible--nor is it expected--that they should arriveat the skill of adepts. The education of Constantia had been regulatedby the peculiar views of her father, who sought to make her, notalluring and voluptuous, but eloquent and wise. He therefore limited herstudies to Latin and English. Instead of familiarizing her with theamorous effusions of Petrarcha and Racine, he made her thoroughlyconversant with Tacitus and Milton. Instead of making her a practicalmusician or pencilist, he conducted her to the school of Newton andHartley, unveiled to her the mathematical properties of light and sound,taught her as a metaphysician and anatomist the structure and power ofthe senses, and discussed with her the principles and progress of humansociety.
These accomplishments tended to render her superior to the rest ofwomen but in no degree qualified her for the post of a femaleinstructor: she saw and lamented her deficiencies, and gradually formedthe resolution of supplying them. Her knowledge of the Latin tongue andof grammatical principles rendered easy the acquisition of Italian andFrench, these being merely Scions from the Roman stock.
Having had occasion, previous to her change of dwelling, to purchasepaper at a bookseller's, the man had offered her at a very low price asecond-hand copy of Veneroni's grammar: the offer had been declined, herviews at that time being otherwise directed. Now, however, this incidentwas remembered, and a resolution instantly formed to purchase the book.As soon as the light declined, and her daily task at the needle haddrawn to a close, she set out to execute this purpose. Arriving at thehouse of the bookseller, she perc
eived that the doors and windows wereclosed. Night having not yet arrived, the conjecture easily occurredthat some one had died in the house. She had always dealt with this manfor books and paper, and had always been treated with civility. Herheart readily admitted some sympathy with his distress, and to removeher doubts she turned to a person who stood at the entrance of the nexthouse, and who held a cloth steeped in vinegar to his nostrils. Inreply to her question the stranger said in a tone of the deepestconsternation--Mr. Watson do you mean? He is dead: he died last night ofthe _yellow fever_.
The name of this disease was not absolutely new to her ears. She hadbeen apprized of its rapid and destructive progress in one quarter ofthe city, but hitherto it had existed, with regard to her, chiefly inthe form of rumour. She had not realized the nature or probable extentof the evil. She lived at no great distance from the seat of the malady,but her neighbourhood had been hitherto exempt. So wholly unused wasshe to contemplate pestilence, except at a distance, that its actualexistence in the bosom of this city was incredible.
Contagious diseases she well knew periodically visited and laid wastethe Greek and Egyptian cities. It constituted no small part of that massof evil, political and physical, by which that portion of the world hasbeen so long afflicted. That a pest equally malignant had assailed themetropolis of her own country--a town famous for the salubrity of itsair and the perfection of its police--had something in it so wild anduncouth that she could not reconcile herself to the possibility of suchan event.
The death of Watson, however, filled her mind with awful reflections.The purpose of her walk was forgotten amidst more momentousconsiderations. She bent her steps pensively homeward. She had nowleisure to remark the symptoms of terror with which all ranks appearedto have been seized. The streets were as much frequented as ever, butthere were few passengers whose countenances did not betray alarm, andwho did not employ the imaginary antidote to infection--vinegar.
Having reached home, she quickly discovered in her father an unusualsolemnity and thoughtfulness. He had no power to conceal his emotionsfrom his daughter, when her efforts to discover them were earnestlyexerted. She learned that during her absence he had been visited by hisnext neighbour--a thrifty, sober, and well meaning, but ignorant andmeddling person, by name Whiston. This person, being equally inquisitiveinto other men's affairs, and communicative of his own, was always anunwelcome visitant. On this occasion he had come to disburden on Mr.Dudley his fears of disease and death. His tale of the origin andprogress of the epidemic, of the number and suddenness of recent deaths,was delivered with endless prolixity. With this account he mingledprognostics of the future, counselled Mr. Dudley to fly from the sceneof danger, and stated his own schemes and resolutions. After havingthoroughly affrighted and wearied his companion he took his leave.
Constantia endeavoured to remove the impression which had been thusneedlessly made. She urged her doubts as to the truth of Whiston'srepresentations, and endeavoured, in various ways, to extenuate thedanger.
"Nay, my child," said her father, "thou needest not reason on thesubject; I am not afraid; at least, on my own account, I fear nothing.What is life to me that I should dread to lose it? If on any account Ishould tremble it is on thine, my angelic girl. Thou dost not deservethus early to perish: and yet if my love for thee were rational, perhapsI ought to wish it. An evil destiny will pursue thee to the close of thylife, be it ever so long.
"I know that ignorance and folly breed the phantoms by which themselvesare perplexed and terrified, and that Whiston is a fool; but here thetruth is too plain to be disguised. This malady is pestilential. Havockand despair will accompany its progress, and its progress will be rapid.The tragedies of Marseilles and Messina will be reacted on this stage.
"For a time we in this quarter shall be exempt, but it will surely reachus at last; and then, whither shall we fly? For the rich, the wholeworld is a safe asylum, but for us, indigent and wretched, what fate isreserved but to stay and perish? If the disease spare us, we must perishby neglect and famine. Alarm will be far and wide diffused. Fear willhinder those who supply the market from entering the city. The price offood will become exorbitant. Our present source of subsistence,ignominious and scanty as it is, will be cut off. Traffic and labour ofevery kind will be at an end. We shall die, but not until we havewitnessed and endured horrors that surpass thy powers of conception.
"I know full well the enormity of this evil. I have been at Messina, andtalked with many who witnessed the state of that city in 1743. I willnot freeze thy blood with the recital. Anticipation has a tendency tolessen or prevent some evils, but pestilence is not of that number.Strange untowardness of destiny! That thou and I should be cast upon ascene like this!"
Mr. Dudley joined with uncommon powers of discernment a species ofperverseness not easily accounted for. He acted as if the inevitableevils of her lot were not sufficient for the trial of his daughter'spatience. Instead of comforter and counsellor he fostered impatience inhimself, and endeavoured, with the utmost diligence, to undermine herfortitude and disconcert her schemes. The task was assigned to her, notonly of subduing her own fears, but of maintaining the contest with hisdisastrous eloquence. In most cases she had not failed of success.Hitherto their causes of anxiety her own observation had, in somedegree, enabled her to estimate at their just value. The rueful pictureswhich his imagination was wont to portray affected her for a moment; butdeliberate scrutiny commonly enabled her to detect and demonstrate theirfallacy. Now, however, the theme was new. Panic and foreboding foundtheir way to her heart in defiance of her struggles. She had noexperience by which to counteract this impulse. All that remained was tobeguile her own and her father's cares by counterfeiting cheerfulness,and introducing new topics.
This panic, stifled for a time, renewed its sway when she retired to herchamber. Never did futurity wear, to her fancy, so dark a hue: never didher condition appear to her in a light so dreary and forlorn. To flyfrom the danger was impossible. How should accommodation at a distancebe procured? The means of subsistence were indissolubly connected withher present residence, but the progress of this disease would cut offthese means, and leave her to be beset not only with pestilence butfamine. What provision could she make against an evil like this?