CHAPTER I.
I am by birth a Genevese; and my family is one of the most distinguishedof that republic. My ancestors had been for many years counsellors andsyndics; and my father had filled several public situations with honourand reputation. He was respected by all who knew him, for his integrityand indefatigable attention to public business. He passed his youngerdays perpetually occupied by the affairs of his country; a variety ofcircumstances had prevented his marrying early, nor was it until thedecline of life that he became a husband and the father of a family.
As the circumstances of his marriage illustrate his character, I cannotrefrain from relating them. One of his most intimate friends was amerchant, who, from a flourishing state, fell, through numerousmischances, into poverty. This man, whose name was Beaufort, was of aproud and unbending disposition, and could not bear to live in povertyand oblivion in the same country where he had formerly beendistinguished for his rank and magnificence. Having paid his debts,therefore, in the most honourable manner, he retreated with his daughterto the town of Lucerne, where he lived unknown and in wretchedness. Myfather loved Beaufort with the truest friendship, and was deeply grievedby his retreat in these unfortunate circumstances. He bitterly deploredthe false pride which led his friend to a conduct so little worthy ofthe affection that united them. He lost no time in endeavouring to seekhim out, with the hope of persuading him to begin the world againthrough his credit and assistance.
Beaufort had taken effectual measures to conceal himself; and it was tenmonths before my father discovered his abode. Overjoyed at thisdiscovery, he hastened to the house, which was situated in a meanstreet, near the Reuss. But when he entered, misery and despair alonewelcomed him. Beaufort had saved but a very small sum of money from thewreck of his fortunes; but it was sufficient to provide him withsustenance for some months, and in the mean time he hoped to procuresome respectable employment in a merchant's house. The interval was,consequently, spent in inaction; his grief only became more deep andrankling, when he had leisure for reflection; and at length it took sofast hold of his mind, that at the end of three months he lay on a bedof sickness, incapable of any exertion.
His daughter attended him with the greatest tenderness; but she saw withdespair that their little fund was rapidly decreasing, and that therewas no other prospect of support. But Caroline Beaufort possessed a mindof an uncommon mould; and her courage rose to support her in heradversity. She procured plain work; she plaited straw; and by variousmeans contrived to earn a pittance scarcely sufficient to support life.
Several months passed in this manner. Her father grew worse; her timewas more entirely occupied in attending him; her means of subsistencedecreased; and in the tenth month her father died in her arms, leavingher an orphan and a beggar. This last blow overcame her; and she kneltby Beaufort's coffin, weeping bitterly, when my father entered thechamber. He came like a protecting spirit to the poor girl, whocommitted herself to his care; and after the interment of his friend, heconducted her to Geneva, and placed her under the protection of arelation. Two years after this event Caroline became his wife.
There was a considerable difference between the ages of my parents, butthis circumstance seemed to unite them only closer in bonds of devotedaffection. There was a sense of justice in my father's upright mind,which rendered it necessary that he should approve highly to lovestrongly. Perhaps during former years he had suffered from thelate-discovered unworthiness of one beloved, and so was disposed to seta greater value on tried worth. There was a show of gratitude andworship in his attachment to my mother, differing wholly from thedoating fondness of age, for it was inspired by reverence for hervirtues, and a desire to be the means of, in some degree, recompensingher for the sorrows she had endured, but which gave inexpressible graceto his behaviour to her. Every thing was made to yield to her wishes andher convenience. He strove to shelter her, as a fair exotic is shelteredby the gardener, from every rougher wind, and to surround her with allthat could tend to excite pleasurable emotion in her soft and benevolentmind. Her health, and even the tranquillity of her hitherto constantspirit, had been shaken by what she had gone through. During the twoyears that had elapsed previous to their marriage my father hadgradually relinquished all his public functions; and immediately aftertheir union they sought the pleasant climate of Italy, and the change ofscene and interest attendant on a tour through that land of wonders, asa restorative for her weakened frame.
From Italy they visited Germany and France. I, their eldest child, wasborn at Naples, and as an infant accompanied them in their rambles. Iremained for several years their only child. Much as they were attachedto each other, they seemed to draw inexhaustible stores of affectionfrom a very mine of love to bestow them upon me. My mother's tendercaresses, and my father's smile of benevolent pleasure while regardingme, are my first recollections. I was their plaything and their idol,and something better--their child, the innocent and helpless creaturebestowed on them by Heaven, whom to bring up to good, and whose futurelot it was in their hands to direct to happiness or misery, according asthey fulfilled their duties towards me. With this deep consciousness ofwhat they owed towards the being to which they had given life, added tothe active spirit of tenderness that animated both, it may be imaginedthat while during every hour of my infant life I received a lesson ofpatience, of charity, and of self-control, I was so guided by a silkencord, that all seemed but one train of enjoyment to me.
For a long time I was their only care. My mother had much desired tohave a daughter, but I continued their single offspring. When I wasabout five years old, while making an excursion beyond the frontiers ofItaly, they passed a week on the shores of the Lake of Como. Theirbenevolent disposition often made them enter the cottages of the poor.This, to my mother, was more than a duty; it was a necessity, apassion,--remembering what she had suffered, and how she had beenrelieved,--for her to act in her turn the guardian angel to theafflicted. During one of their walks a poor cot in the foldings of avale attracted their notice, as being singularly disconsolate, while thenumber of half-clothed children gathered about it, spoke of penury inits worst shape. One day, when my father had gone by himself to Milan,my mother, accompanied by me, visited this abode. She found a peasantand his wife, hard working, bent down by care and labour, distributing ascanty meal to five hungry babes. Among these there was one whichattracted my mother far above all the rest. She appeared of a differentstock. The four others were dark-eyed, hardy little vagrants; this childwas thin, and very fair. Her hair was the brightest living gold, and,despite the poverty of her clothing, seemed to set a crown ofdistinction on her head. Her brow was clear and ample, her blue eyescloudless, and her lips and the moulding of her face so expressive ofsensibility and sweetness, that none could behold her without looking onher as of a distinct species, a being heaven-sent, and bearing acelestial stamp in all her features.
The peasant woman, perceiving that my mother fixed eyes of wonder andadmiration on this lovely girl, eagerly communicated her history. Shewas not her child, but the daughter of a Milanese nobleman. Her motherwas a German, and had died on giving her birth. The infant had beenplaced with these good people to nurse: they were better off then. Theyhad not been long married, and their eldest child was but just born. Thefather of their charge was one of those Italians nursed in the memory ofthe antique glory of Italy,--one among the _schiavi ognor frementi_, whoexerted himself to obtain the liberty of his country. He became thevictim of its weakness. Whether he had died, or still lingered in thedungeons of Austria, was not known. His property was confiscated, hischild became an orphan and a beggar. She continued with her fosterparents, and bloomed in their rude abode, fairer than a garden roseamong dark-leaved brambles.
When my father returned from Milan, he found playing with me in the hallof our villa, a child fairer than pictured cherub--a creature who seemedto shed radiance from her looks, and whose form and motions were lighterthan the chamois of the hills. The apparition was soon explained. Withhis permission my mot
her prevailed on her rustic guardians to yieldtheir charge to her. They were fond of the sweet orphan. Her presencehad seemed a blessing to them; but it would be unfair to her to keep herin poverty and want, when Providence afforded her such powerfulprotection. They consulted their village priest, and the result was,that Elizabeth Lavenza became the inmate of my parents' house--my morethan sister--the beautiful and adored companion of all my occupationsand my pleasures.
Every one loved Elizabeth. The passionate and almost reverentialattachment with which all regarded her became, while I shared it, mypride and my delight. On the evening previous to her being brought to myhome, my mother had said playfully,--"I have a pretty present for myVictor--to-morrow he shall have it." And when, on the morrow, shepresented Elizabeth to me as her promised gift, I, with childishseriousness, interpreted her words literally, and looked upon Elizabethas mine--mine to protect, love, and cherish. All praises bestowed onher, I received as made to a possession of my own. We called each otherfamiliarly by the name of cousin. No word, no expression could bodyforth the kind of relation in which she stood to me--my more thansister, since till death she was to be mine only.
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