CHAPTER XVII. CONFESSIONS

ldnothavedonesohadmyownsisterormymotherbeenwithmeinthehouse.Iwasacloseandresolutedissembler—inthisonecaseatleast.Myprayers,mytears,mywishes,fears,andlamentations,werewitnessedbymyselfandheavenalone. Whenweareharassedbysorrowsoranxieties,orlongoppressedbyanypowerfulfeelingswhichwemustkeeptoourselves,forwhichwecanobtainandseeknosympathyfromanylivingcreature,andwhichyetwecannot,orwillnotwhollycrush,weoftennaturallyseekreliefinpoetry—andoftenfindit,too—whetherintheeffusionsofothers,whichseemtoharmonizewithourexistingcase,orinourownattemptstogiveutterancetothosethoughtsandfeelingsinstrainslessmusical,perchance,butmoreappropriate,andthereforemorepenetratingandsympathetic,and,forthetime,moresoothing,ormorepowerfultorouseandtounburdentheoppressedandswollenheart.Beforethistime,atWellwoodHouseandhere,whensufferingfromhome-sickmelancholy,IhadsoughtrelieftwiceorthriceatthissecretsourceofconsolationandnowIflewtoitagain,withgreateraviditythanever,becauseIseemedtoneeditmore.Istillpreservethoserelicsofpastsufferingsandexperience,likepillarsofwitnesssetupintravellingthroughthevaleoflife,tomarkparticularoccurrences.Thefootstepsareobliteratednowthefaceofthecountrymaybechangedbutthepillarisstillthere,toremindmehowallthingswerewhenitwasreared.Lestthereadershouldbecurioustoseeanyoftheseeffusions,Iwillfavourhimwithoneshortspecimen:coldandlanguidasthelinesmayseem,itwasalmostapassionofgrieftowhichtheyowedtheirbeing:— Oh,theyhaverobbedmeofthehope Myspiritheldsodear Theywillnotletmehearthatvoice Mysouldelightstohear. Theywillnotletmeseethatface Isodelighttosee Andtheyhavetakenallthysmiles, Andallthylovefromme. Well,letthemseizeonalltheycan— Onetreasurestillismine,— Aheartthatlovestothinkonthee, Andfeelstheworthofthine. Yes,atleast,theycouldnotdeprivemeofthat:IcouldthinkofhimdayandnightandIcouldfeelthathewasworthytobethoughtof.NobodyknewhimasIdidnobodycouldappreciatehimasIdidnobodycouldlovehimasI—could,ifImight:buttherewastheevil.WhatbusinesshadItothinksomuchofonethatneverthoughtofme?Wasitnotfoolish?wasitnotwrong?Yet,ifIfoundsuchdeepdelightinthinkingofhim,andifIkeptthosethoughtstomyself,andtroublednooneelsewiththem,wherewastheharmofit?Iwouldaskmyself.Andsuchreasoningpreventedmefrommakinganysufficientefforttoshakeoffmyfetters. But,ifthosethoughtsbroughtdelight,itwasapainful,troubledpleasure,toonearakintoanguishandonethatdidmemoreinjurythanIwasawareof.Itwasanindulgencethatapersonofmorewisdomormoreexperiencewoulddoubtlesshavedeniedherself.Andyet,howdrearytoturnmyeyesfromthecontemplationofthatbrightobjectandforcethemtodwellonthedull,grey,desolateprospectaround:thejoyless,hopeless,solitarypaththatlaybeforeme.Itwaswrongtobesojoyless,sodespondingIshouldhavemadeGodmyfriend,andtodoHiswillthepleasureandthebusinessofmylifebutfaithwasweak,andpassionwastoostrong. InthistimeoftroubleIhadtwoothercausesofaffliction.Thefirstmayseematrifle,butitcostmemanyatear:Snap,mylittledumb,rough-visaged,butbright-eyed,warm-heartedcompanion,theonlythingIhadtoloveme,wastakenaway,anddeliveredovertothetendermerciesofthevillagerat-catcher,amannotoriousforhisbrutaltreatmentofhiscanineslaves.Theotherwasseriousenoughmylettersfromhomegaveintimationthatmyfather’shealthwasworse.Nobodingfearswereexpressed,butIwasgrowntimidanddespondent,andcouldnothelpfearingthatsomedreadfulcalamityawaitedusthere.Iseemedtoseetheblackcloudsgatheringroundmynativehills,andtoheartheangrymutteringofastormthatwasabouttoburst,anddesolateourhearth.