Business In Your Life

But this infernal tragedy did not end here : at first I thought it was only by way of ceremony that the five women sung and danced about tho pit; but to my infinite surprise, in a short time, the ascending flames took hold of the clothes of one of these women, who immediately threw herself into the pit head foremost. After her, another being overcome with the flame and smoke, did the like ; and my astonishment redoubled, when  saw the remaining three join hands again, and continue their dance without the least apparent concern, until at length they precipitated themselves into the fire, one after another, as their companions had done before them. I learned shortly afterwards, that Ihese five women were slaves, who having seen their mistress extremely afflicted at the sickness of her husband, and heard her promise him she would not survive him, but burn herself at his funeral, were so touched with compassion and tenderness to this their mistress, that they mutually engaged themselves in a promise to follow her in her resolution, and to bum themselves with her, which promise they had thus honourably performed.” Many of the people with whom I consulted about ihis custom of women burning themselves with the bodies of their husbands,” continues the sagacious Bornier,  endeavoured to persuade me, that what they did was from an excess of affection ; but  understood afterwards, that it was only an effect of opinion, prepossession, and education. From their youth their mothers, besotted with this cruel superstition as a most virt uous and most laudable action, and unavoidable in a woman of honour, did so infatuate the spirit of their daughters from their infancy, that they looked to it as an affair of course. At the bottom, however, it was nothing more than the act of the men, the more to enslave their wives, and thereby make;them have the greater care of their health, and refrain from poisoning them, a species of domestic perfidy very prevalent in the East. To represent the undaunted resolution of one whom  saw burnt at Surat would be impossible. I cannot do justice to the noble serenity with which she marched to thescene of suffering? the confidence with which she looked on us European spectators, and met the view of her little cabin, made up of dried millet straw and small wood, prepared for the catastrophe. The remembrance df the impressive manner in which she entered this receptaclesat down upon the pile, and took her husband’s iiand into her lap, will never desert me ; nor can time ever efface the recollection of my feelings, when I saw Jier calmly take a torch, and with her own hand kindle the reeds within, whilst I know not how many Bramins were doing the same thing without.

Which was in the front of the house, and was the innermost of three rooms from the grand staircase ; the key of this chamber was usually taken out of the donr and laid on a chair by the servant who was left with the lady, and who pulling the door after her, it shut with a spring, so that it could not be opened from without. In this chamber also were two doors; one communicated with a back staircase, and the other with a wardrobe which opened to the back stairs also.On the second floor slept the Abbe Poulard, in the only room which was furnished on that floor. On the third story were two chambers, which contained two chambermaids and two footboys: the fourth story consisted of lofts and granaries, whose doors were always open : the cook slept below in a place where the wood was kept; an old woman in the kitchen ; and the coachman in the stable.On the th of November, being Sunday, the two daughters of Le Brun, the valet, who were eminent mililiners, waited on the lady, and were kindly received ; but as she was going to church toafternoon service she pressed them to come again, when the could have more of their company. Le Brun attended his lady to church, and then went to another himself: after which he went to play at bowls, as was customary at that time, and from the bowlinggreen he went to several places ; and after supping with a friend, he went home seemingly cheerful and easy, as he had been all the afternoon. Lady Mazel supped with the Abbe Poulard as usual, and about eleven o’clock went to her chanfber, where she was attended by her maids. Before they left her, Le Brun came to the door to receive his orders for the next day ; after which one of the maids laid the key of the chamber door on the chair next it: they then went out, and Le Brun following them, shut the door after him, and talked with the maids a few minutes about his daughters, and then they parted, he seeming still very cheerful.In the morning he went to the market, and was jocular and pleasant with every body he met, as was his usual manner. He then returned home and transacted his customary business. At eight o’clock he expressed surprize his lady did not get up, as he usually rose at seven ; he went to his wife’s lodging, which was in the neighbourhood, and told her he was uneasy his lady’s bell had not rung, and gave her seven louis d’ors, and some crowns in gold, which he desired her to lock up, and then went home again, and found the servants in great consternation at hearing nothing of their lady; when one observed, that he feared she had been seized with an apoplexy, or a bleeding at the nose, to which she was subject

This done, he mouuted his horse again and continued His journey, amidst the acclamations and praises of the whole city for so extraordinary a piece of justice ; report of which being made to the Sublime Porte, the sultan advanced him to the post of cadi, from whence by degrees he rose to the dignity of mufti, who i the head both of the religion and the law among the Turks.Two Parisian merchants, strongly united in friendship, had each one child of different sexes, who early contracted a strong inclination for each other, which was cherished by the parents, and they were flattered with the expectations of being joined together for life. Unfortunately, at the time they thought themselves on the point of completing this long wished for union, a man, far advanced in years, and possessed of an immense fortune, cast his eyes on the young lady, and made honourable proposals ; her parents could not resist the temptation of a soninlaw in such affluent circumstances, and forced her to comply. As soon s the knot was tied, she strictly enjoined her former lover never to see her, and patiently submitted to her fate ; but the anxiety of her mind preyed upon her body, which threw her into a lingering disorder, that apparently carried her off, and she was consigned to her grave. As soon as this melancholy event reached the lover, his affliction was doubled, being deprived of all hopes of her widowhood ; but, recollecting that in her youth she had been for some time in a lethargy, his hopes revived, and hurried him to the place of her burial, where a good bribe procured the sexton’s permission to dig her up, which he performed, and removed her to a place of safety, where, by proper methods, he revived the almcst extinguished spark of life. Great was her surprise at finding the state she had been in ; and probably as great was her pleasure, at the means by which shl had been recalled from the grave. As soon as she was sufficiently Tecoyered, the lover laid his clajxn ; ported by a powerful inclination on her side, were too strong for her to resist; but as Frauce was no longer a place of safety for them, they agreed to remove to England, where they continued ten years, when a strong inclination of revisiting their native country seized them, which they thought they might safely gratify, and accordingly performed their voyage.

King eternal, immortal, invisible, the ” only wise God, be honour and glory for ever ” and ever. Amen” Unto me who am less than the least of all ” saints, is this grace given, that I should preach” among the Gentiles the unsearchable riches of ” Christ; and to make all men see what is the ” fellowship of the mystery which from the begin” ning of the world hath been hid in God, who ” created all things by Jesus Christ: to the intent ” that now unto the principalities and powers in heavenly places, might be known by the Church ” the manifold wisdom of God; according to the ” eternal purpose which he purposed in Christ ” Jesus our Lord.”With himself, this apostle joins all others who had obtained part in the same honourable ministry, when he says, ” God who commanded the ” light to shine out of darkness, hath shined in ” our hearts, to give the light of the knowledge ” of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ.” Nor does he confine this account of things to himself, and other official characters in the church; he applies it to all who had obtained like precious faith; when he writes to the Christians at Ephesus, that ” God who is rich in mercy, for his fixed corresponding principle, otherwise the features will daily change, and a variable character appear. Indeed, our decisions upon character can seldom be true, when founded on transient evidence. But higher evidence we cannot expect, unless men act upon principle, and no principle can be so powerful and extensive in its influence as the love of God and the Redeemer. Wherever this prevails, the mind aspires to every degree of moral excellence, and there is perhaps no branch of that excellence, in which its operation is more certain, and apparent, than that of charity. Hence we read, “That love is of God, and every one that loveth is born of God, and knoweth God.  He that loveth not, knoweth not God, for God is love. He that dwelleth in love, dwelleth in ‘ God, and God in him. But whoso hath this  world’s goods, and seeth his brother have need, and shutteth up his bowels of compassion from  him, how dwelleth the love of God in him ?” Wherefore adds the apostle, addressing himself to professing Christians.

Without money to return to either, and in which he would, perhaps, had succeeded, had he began with more moderation: but Vitali, who had other views, and wished to force me to extremities, carried his point. The moment I perceived, I lost all my trouble, that the ambassador imputed to me my services as so many crimes, instead of being satisfied with them; that with him I had nothing to expect, but things disagreeable at home, and injustice abroad; and that, in the general disesteem into which he was fallen, his ill offices might be prejudicial to me, without the possibility of my being served by his good ones; I took my resolution, and asked him for my dismission, leaving him sufficient time to provide himself with another secretary. Without answering yes or no, he continued to treat me in the same manner, as if nothing had been said. Perceiving things to remain in the same state, and that he took no measures to procure himself a new secretary, I wrote to his brother, and, explaining to him my motives, begged he would obtain my dismission from his excellency, adding that whether I received it or not, I could not possibly remain with him. I waited a long time without any answer, and began to be embarrassed: but at length the ambassador received a letter from his brother, which must have remonstrated with him in very plain terms; for although he was extremely subject to ferocious rage, I never saw him so violent as on this occasion. After torrents of unsufferable reproaches, not knowing what more to say, he accused me of having sold his ciphers. I burst into a loud laughter, and asked him, in a sneering manner, if he thought there was in Venice a man who would be fool enough to give half a crown for them all. He threatened to call his servants to throw me out of the window. Until then I had been very composed; but on this threat, anger and indignation seized me in my turn. I sprang to the door, and after having turned a button which fastened it within: “No, count,” said I, returning to him with a grave step. “Your servants shall have nothing to do with this affair; please to let it be settled between ourselves.” My action and manner instantly made him calm; fear and surprise were marked in his countenance.

I gave myself up to this indolent and solitary life, which I had not the means of continuing for three months, is one of the singularities of my life, and the oddities of my disposition. The extreme desire I had, the public should think of me was precisely what discouraged me from showing myself; and the necessity of paying visits rendered them to such a degree insupportable, that I ceased visiting the academicians and other men of letters, with whom I had cultivated an acquaintance. Marivaux, the Abbe Malby, and Fontenelle, were almost the only persons whom I sometimes went to see. To the first I showed my comedy of Narcissus. He was pleased with it. and had the goodness to make in it some improvements. Diderot, younger than these, was much about my own age. He was fond of music, and knew it theoretically; we conversed together, and he communicated to me some of his literary projects. This soon formed betwixt us a more intimate connection, which lasted fifteen years, and which probably would still exist were not I, unfortunately, and by his own fault, of the same profession with himself. It would be impossible to imagine in what manner I employed this short and precious interval which still remained to me, before circumstances forced me to beg my bread:in learning by memory passages from the poets which I had learned and forgotten a hundred times. Every morning at ten o’clock, I went to walk in the Luxembourg with a Virgil and a Rousseau in my pocket, and there, until the hour of dinner, I passed away the time in restoring to my memory a sacred ode or a bucolic, without being discouraged by forgetting, by the study of the morning, what I had learned the evening before. I recollected that after the defeat of Nicias at Syracuse the captive Athenians obtained a livelihood byreciting the poems of Homer. The use I made of this erudition to ward off misery was to exercise my happy memory by learning all the poets by rote. the earth and stones from stopping it up, and having carefully covered our work with welltrodden earth, in a transport of hope and fear attended the hour of watering. After an interval, which seemed an age of expectation, this hour arrived. Mr. Lambercier, as usual, assisted at the operation; we contrived to get between him and our tree, towards which he fortunately turned his back.

 I did not wish to hear, I preferred being silent on the subject. As my scholars did not take up much of my time, and the town where she was born was not above four leagues from Lausanne, I made it a walk of three or four days; during which time a most pleasant emotion never left me. A view of the lake of Geneva and its admirable banks, had ever, in my idea, a particular attraction which I cannot describe; not arising merely from the beauty of the prospect, but something else, I know not why, more interesting, which affects and softens me. Every time I have approached the Vaudois country I have experienced an impression composed of the remembrance of Madam de Warrens, who was born there; of my father, who lived there; of Miss Vulson, who had been my first love, and of several pleasant journeys I had made there in my childhood, mingled with some nameless charm, more powerfully attractive than all the rest. When that ardent desire for a life of happiness and tranquility which ever follows me, and for which I was born inflames my mind, ’tis ever to the country of Vaud, near the lake, in those charming plains, that imagination leads me. An orchard on the banks of that lake, and no other, is absolutely necessary; a firm friend, an amiable woman, a cow, and a little boat; nor could I enjoy perfect happiness on earth without these concomitants. I laugh at the simplicity with which I have several times gone into that country for the sole purpose of seeking this imaginary happiness when I was ever surprised to find the inhabitants, particularly the women, of a quite different disposition to what I sought. How strange did this appear to me! The country and people who inhabit it, were never, in my idea, formed for each other. Walking along these beautiful banks, on my way to Vevay, I gave myself up to the soft melancholy; my heart rushed with ardor into a thousand innocent felicities; melting to tenderness, I sighed and wept like a child. How often, stopping to weep more at my ease, and seated on a large stone, did I amuse myself with seeing my tears drop into the water. On my arrival at Vevay, I lodged at the Key, and during the two days I remained there, without any acquaintance.