Camilla; or, A Picture of Youth — John Stuart Mill — John Shaqi
Camilla; or, A Picture of Youth
John Stuart Mill · en
'Take, take me away, my father!' cried Eugenia, 'I see, I feel your
awful lesson! but impress it no further, lest I die in receiving it!'
Mr. Tyrold immediately moved off without speaking; Camilla, penetrated
for her sister, observed the same silence; and Eugenia, hanging upon her
father, and absorbed in profound rumination, only by the depth of her
sighs made her existence known; and thus, without the interchange of a
word, slowly and pensively they walked back to the carriage.
Eugenia broke the silence as soon as they were seated: 'O, my father!'
she exclaimed, 'what a sight have you made me witness! how dread a
reproof have you given to my repining spirit! Did you know this unhappy
beauty was at that house? Did you lead me thither purposely to display
to me her shocking imbecility?'
'Relying upon the excellence of your understanding, I ventured upon an
experiment more powerful, I well knew, than all that reason could urge;
an experiment not only striking at the moment, but which, by playing
upon the imagination, as well as convincing the judgment, must make an
impression that can never be effaced. I have been informed for some
time, that this poor girl was in our neighbourhood; she was born an
idiot, and therefore, having never known brighter days, is insensible to
her terrible state. Her friends are opulent, and that house is taken,
and a woman is paid, to keep her in existence and in obscurity. I had
heard of her uncommon beauty, and when the news reached me of my dear
Eugenia's distress, the idea of this meeting occurred to me; I rode to
the house, and engaged the woman to detain her unfortunate charge at the
window till we appeared, and then to let her loose into the garden.
Poor, ill fated young creature! it has been, indeed, a melancholy
sight.'
'A sight,' cried Eugenia, 'to come home to me with shame!--O, my dear
Father! your prescription strikes to the root of my disease!--shall I
ever again dare murmur!--will any egotism ever again make me believe no
lot so hapless as my own! I will think of her when I am discontented; I
will call to my mind this spectacle of human degradation--and submit, at
least with calmness, to my lighter evils and milder fate.'