book inculcates and inspires, is a spirit

whose fruits are love, joy, peace, long-suf- fering, mildness, and truth. On these points they never presumed to differ.— They are too plain to be denied, so they contrive to make matter of difference out of the various habits they wear ; and they cut each other's throats for the love of God, on the important subject *, whether their iackets should be red or white — or whether
* The Catholics and Protestants were thus distin- guished in the wars of the League.
A TALE. 177
their priests should be arrayed in silk rib- bons *, or white linen f , or black household garments i — or whether they should im- merse their children in water, or sprinkle them with a few drops of it — or whether they should partake of the memorials of the death of him they all profess to love,
standing or on their knees — or But
I weary you with this display of human wickedness and absurdity. One point is plain, they all agree that the language of the book is, " Love one another," while they all translate that language, *' Hate one another." But as they can find neither materials or excuse from that book, they search for them in their own minds, — and there they are never at a loss, for human minds are inexhaustible in malignity and hostility; and when they borrow the name of that book to sanction them, the deifica- tion of their passions becomes a duty, and their worst impulses are hallowed and
* Catholics. t Protestants. X Dissenters. H 2
178 melmoth:
practised as virtues." — " Are there no pa- rents or children in these horrible worlds?" said Immalee, turning her tearful eyes on this traducer of humanity ; " none that love each other as I loved the tree under which I was first conscious of existence, or the flowers that grew with me ?" — " Pa- rents ? — children ?" said the stranger ; " Oh yes ! There are fathers who instruct their
sons " And his voice was lost — he
struggled to recover it.
" After a long pause, he said, ** There are some kind parents among those sophis- ticated people."^ — " And who are they ?" said Immalee, whose heart throbbed spon- taneously at the mention of kindliness. — " Those," said the stranger, with a wither- ing smile, " who murder their children at the hour of their birth, or, by medical art, dismiss them before they have seen the light ; and, in so doing, they give the only credible evidence of parental affection."
** He ceased, and Immalee remained silent in melancholy meditation on what
A TALE. 179
she had heard. The acrid and searing irony of his language had made no impres- sion on one with whom " speech was truth," and who could have no idea why a circuitous mode of conveying meaning could be adopted, when even a direct one was often attended with difficulty to her- self. But she could understand, that he had spoken much of evil and of suffering, names unknown to her before she beheld him, and she turned on him a glance that seemed at once to thank and reproach him for her painful initiation into the mys- teries of a new existence. She had, in- deed, tasted of the tree of knowledge, and her eyes were opened, but its fruit was bitter to her taste, and her looks conveyed a kind of mild and melancholy gratitude, that would have wrung the heart for giv- ing its first lesson of pain to the heart of a being so beautiful, so gentle, and so inno- cent. The stranger marked this blended expression, and exulted.
" He had distorted life thus to her ima-
180 MELMOTH :
gination, perhaps with the purpose of ter- rifying her from a nearer view of it ; per- haps in the wild hope of keeping her fca* ever in this solitude, where he might sometimes see her, and catch, from the atmosphere of purity that surrounded her, the only breeze that floated over the burning desert of his own existence. This hope was strengthened by the ob- vious impression his discourse had made on her. The sparkling intelligence, — the breathless curiosity, — ^the vivid gratitude of her former expression, — were all extin- guished, and her down cast and thought- ful eyes were full of tears.
*' Has my conversation wearied you, Immalee r" said he* — " It has grieved me, yet I wish to listen still," answered the Indian. " I love to hear the murmur of the stream, though the crocodile may be beneath the waves." — " Perhaps you wish to encounter the people of this world, so full of crime and misfortune." — " I do, for it is the world you came from, and when
A TALt. 185
you return to it all will be happy but me," — " And is it, then, in my power to con- fer happiness ?" said her companion ; " is it for this purpose I wander among man- kind ?" A mingled and indefinable ex- pression of derision, malevolence, and de- spair, overspread his features, as he added, " You do me too much honour, in devis- ing for me an occupation so mild and so congenial to my spirit."
" Iramalee, whose eyes were averted, did not see this expression, and she replied, " I know not, but you have taught me the joy of grief ; before I saw you I only smil- ed, but since I saw you, I weep, and my tears are delicious. Oh ! they are far dif- ferent from those 1 shed for the setting sun, or the faded rose ! And yet I know not — " And the poor Indian, oppressed by emotions she could neither understand or express, clasped her hands on her bosom, as if to hide the secret of its new palpita- tions, and, with the instinctive diffidence of her purity, signified the change of her
182 MELMOTH:
feelings, by retiring a few steps from her companion, and casting on the earth eyes which could contain their tears no longer. The stranger appeared troubled, — an emo- tion new to himself agitated him for a mo- ment,— then a smile of self-disdain curled his hp, as if he reproached himself for the indulgence of human feeling even for a mo- ment. Again his features relaxed, as he turned to the bending and averted form of Immalee, and he seemed like one conscious of agony of soul himself, yet inclined to sport with the agony of another's. This union of inward despair and outward le- vity is not unnatural. Smiles are the le- gitimate offspring of happiness, but laugh- ter is often the misbegotten child of mad- ness, that mocks its parent to her face. With such an expression he turned to- wards her, and asked, " But what is your meaning, Immalee ?" — A long pause fol- lowed this question, and at length the In- dian answered, " I know not," with that natural and delicious art which teaches the
A TALE. 183
sex to disclose their meaning in words that seem to contradict it. *' I know not," means, " I know too well." Her com- panion understood this, and enjoyed his anticipated triumph. " And why do yoa^- tears flow, Immalee ?" — " I know not," said the poor Indian, and her tears flowed faster at the question.
" At these words, or rather at these tears, the stranger forgot himself for a mo- ment. He felt that melancholy triumph which the conqueror is unable to enjoy ; that triumph which announces a victory over the weakness of others, obtained at the expence of a greater weakness in our- selves. A human feeling, in spite of him, pervaded his whole soul, as he said, in ac- cents of involuntary softness, " What would you have me do, Immalee ?" The difficulty of speaking a. language that might be at once intelligible and reserved, — that might convey her wishes without betraying her heart, — and the unknown nature of her new emotions, made Ira-
184 MELMOTH :
malee faulter long before she could an- swer, " Stay with me, — return not to that world of evil and sorrow. — Here the flowers will always bloom, and the sun be as bright as on the first day I beheld you. — Why will you go back to the world to thinly and to be unhappy ?" The wild and dis- cordant laugh of her companion, startled and silenced her. *•' Poor girl," he ex- claimed, with that mixture of bitterness and commiseration, that at once terrifies and humiliates ; " and is this the destiny I am to fulfil ? — to listen to the chirping of birds, and watch the opening of buds ? Is this to be my lot ?" and with another wild burst of unnatural laughter, he flung away the hand which I m malee had ex- tended to him as she had finished her sim- ple appeal. — " Yes, doubtless, I am well fitted for such a fate, and such a partner. Tell me," he added, with still wilder fierce- ness, " tell me from what line of my features, — from what accent of my voice, — from what sentiment of my discourse,
A TALE. 185
have you extracted the foundation of a hope that insults me with the view of fe- licity ?" Immalee, who might have re- plied, ** I understand a fury in your words, but not your words," had yet sufficient aid from her maiden pride, and female pene- tration, to discover that she was rejected by the stranger ; and a brief emotion of in- dignant grief struggled with the tender- ness of her exposed and devoted heart. She paused a moment, and then checking her tears, said, in her firmest tones, " Go, then, to your world, — since you wish to be unhappy — go ! — Alas ! it is not necessary to go there to be unhappy, for I must be so here. Go, — but take with you these roses, for they will all wither when you are gone ! — take with you these shells, for I shall no longer love to wear them when you no longer see them !" And as she spoke, with simple, but emphatic action, she un- twined from her bosom and hair the shells and flowers with which they were adorned, and threw them at his feet ; then turning
186 MELMOTH :
to throw one glance of proud and melan- choly grief at him, she was retiring. " Stay, Immalee, — stay, and hear me for a moment," said the stranger; and he would, at that moment, have perhaps dis- covered the ineffable and forbidden secret of his destiny, but Immalee, in silence, which her look of profound grief made eloquent, shook sadly her averted head, and departed.