Adoptees -- Fiction; Fathers and daughters -- Fiction
caused us to hang on all she said as on the oracles of a divinity.
"At times we left her, and Alithea and I wandered through the woods and
over the hills; our talk was inexhaustible, now canvassing some
observation of her mother, now pouring out our own youthful bright
ideas, and enjoying the breezes and the waterfalls, and every sight of
nature, with a rapture unspeakable. When we came to rugged uplands, or
some swollen brook, I carried my young companion over in my arms; I
sheltered her with my body from the storms that, sometimes overtook us.
I was her protector and her stay; and the very office filled me with
pride and joy. When fatigued by our rambles, we returned home, bringing
garlands of wild flowers for the invalid, whose wisdom we revered, whose
maternal tenderness was our joy; and yet, whose weakness made her, in
some degree, dependant on us, and gave the form of a voluntary tribute
to the attentions we delighted to pay her.
"Oh, had I never returned to school, this life had been a foretaste of
heaven! but there I returned, and there again I found rebuke, injustice,
my evil passions, and the fiends who tormented me. How my heart revolted
from the contrast! with what inconceivable struggles I tried to subdue
my hatred, to be as charitable and forgiving as Mrs. Rivers implored me
to be; but my tormentors had the art of rousing the savage again, and,
despite good resolves, despite my very pride, which urged me merely to
despise, I was again violent and rebellious; again punished, again
vowing revenge, and longing to obtain it. I cannot imagine--even the
wild passions of my after life do not disclose--more violent struggles
than those I went through. I returned from my friends, my heart stored
with affectionate sentiments and good intentions; my brow was smooth, my
mind unruffled; my whole soul set upon at once commanding myself, and
proving to my tyrants that they could not disturb the sort of heavenly
calm with which I was penetrated.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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