The schoolmaster informed us yesterday, with tears in his eyes, that
those trees had been felled. Yes, cut to the ground! I could, in my
wrath, have slain the monster who struck the first stroke. And I must
endure this!--I, who, if I had had two such trees in my own court, and
one had died from old age, should have wept with real affliction. But
there is some comfort left,--such a thing is sentiment,--the whole
village murmurs at the misfortune; and I hope the vicar's wife will
soon find, by the cessation of the villagers' presents, how much she
has wounded the feelings of the neighbourhood. It was she who did
it,--the wife of the present incumbent (our good old man is dead),--a
tall, sickly creature, who is so far right to disregard the world as
the world totally disregards her. The silly being affects to be
learned, pretends to examine the canonical books, lends her aid towards
the new-fashioned reformation of Christendom, moral and critical, and
shrugs up her shoulders at the mention of Lavater's enthusiasm. Her
health is destroyed, on account of which she is prevented from having
any enjoyment here below. Only such a creature could have cut down my
walnut-trees! I can never pardon it. Hear her reasons. The falling
leaves made the court wet and dirty; the branches obstructed the light;
boys threw stones at the nuts when they were ripe, and the noise
affected her nerves, and disturbed her profound meditations, when she
was weighing the difficulties of Kennicot, Semler, and Michaels.
Finding that all the parish, particularly the old people, were
displeased, I asked why they allowed it. "Ah, sir!" they replied, "when
the steward orders, what can we poor peasants do?" But one thing has
happened well. The steward and the vicar (who for once thought to reap
some advantage from the caprices of his wife) intended to divide the
trees between them. The revenue-office, being informed of it, revived
an old claim to the ground where the trees had stood, and sold them to
the best bidder. There they still lie on the ground. If I were the
sovereign, I should know how to deal with them all,--vicar, steward,
and revenue-office. Sovereign, did I say? I should in that case care
little about the trees that grew in the country.
Oct. 10.
Only to gaze upon her dark eyes is to me a source of happiness! And
what grieves me is that Albert does not seem so happy as he--hoped to
be--as I should have been--if-- I am no friend to these pauses, but
here I cannot express it otherwise; and probably I am explicit enough.
Oct. 12.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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