DUTY OF OLD AGE.
A material part of the duty of the aged consists in studying to be useful to the race who are to succeed them. Here opens to them an extensive field, in which they may so employ themselves as considerably to advance the happiness of mankind. To them it belongs to impart to the young the fruit of their long experience; to instruct them in the proper conduct, and to warn them of the various dangers of life; by wise counsel to temper their precipitate ardour, and both by precept and example to form them to piety and virtue.
It never appears with greater dignity, than when tempered with mildness and enlivened with good humour; it then acts as a guide and a patron of youth.
Religion, displayed in such a character, strikes the beholders, as at once amiable and venerable. They revere its power, when they see it adding so much grace to the decays of nature, and shedding so pleasing a lustre over the evening of life. The young wish to tread in the same steps, and to arrive at the close of their days with equal honour.
THE VICTIM OF MAGICAL DELUSION;
OR, INTERESTING MEMOIRS OF MIGUEL, DUKE DE CA*I*A.
UNFOLDING MANY CURIOUS UNKNOWN HISTORICAL FACTS.
Translated from the German of Tschink.
(Continued from [page 259].)
“I stood on the deck a prey to speechless agony, when suddenly somebody tapped me on the shoulder. Conceive my astonishment when, on turning round, I saw Alumbrado standing behind me. I staggered back as if a midnight spectre had taken hold of me with icy hands. Terror and surprise deprived me of the power of utterance, and suspended every motion of my limbs. He had made the voyage without my knowledge, and found means to keep himself concealed from me; you may therefore imagine, how violently I was affected by the sudden appearance of that man, whom I fancied to be at Lis*on.
“Are you not sorry now, that you have slighted my advice?” Alumbrado said, “it seems you will not see your friend in this world.” Some minutes passed before I was able to reply. “Let us now enjoy in silence the grandest spectacle that nature can afford!” So saying, he looked with tranquillity at the foaming ocean, as if he had been standing on the sheltering shore, far distant from the danger that surrounded us from all sides. His eyes beheld with inconceivable serenity the wild commotion of the waves, which now raised the vessel to the flaming clouds, and now hurled it into the gaping abyss of the boiling sea. The firm tranquillity which Alumbrado’s countenance bespoke, in spite of the furious combat of the elements, the impending destruction of the ship, and the doleful lamentations of the desponding crew, appeared to me to denote more than human courage. I gazed with secret awe at a being that seemed to be delighted with a spectacle, which made every hair of my head rise like bristles.
‘At length the flashes of lightning grew fainter, the roaring of the thunder less violent, and the fury of the winds seemed to be exhausted; but the sea continued to be agitated in so dreadful a manner, that we apprehended the cables would not be able to stand the motion of the ship any longer. In vain did we implore human assistance by the discharge of our guns, the towering waves threatening destruction to the boats that attempted to come to our relief.
“In vain will human force endeavour to wage the unequal contest against all-powerful nature!” I exclaimed when I beheld that desponding sight. Alumbrado turned round. “I will tame the fury of these foaming waves, if you will promise to return to Lis*on!” I gazed at him in speechless astonishment. “I am in earnest,” he resumed, “will you return to Lis*on?” “If I will?” I replied, “If I will? how can you ask me that question? enable me to do it!” Alumbrado left me without returning an answer.
‘A few minutes after he returned. “You will, presently, behold a miracle,” he said, “but I must request you to tell nobody the author of it.”
‘I promised it, and the miracle ensued. The rolling foaming sea grew calm and smooth. We went on shore, and found ourselves not farther than a day’s journey from Lis*on.
‘You see my friend, that a higher power, against which opposition would have been useless, has put a stop to my voyage. I have related the history of it without making any comments, and leave it to your own judgment to form a just opinion of it. As for me, I am convinced that I have at length found the man whom my boding soul has long been in search of.’
This letter astonished me to the highest degree, and, at the same time, augmented my apprehensions very much. In my answer I declared neither for nor against Alumbrado’s supernatural power, because I neither chose to confirm the Duke in his belief in it, nor to risk losing his confidence; for how could I have expected to receive farther intelligence of his connection with Alumbrado, if I had been deprived of the latter? and yet it was of the utmost importance to me to learn every transaction of that designing man.
Notwithstanding this precaution, near a month elapsed without my having received an answer to my letter. I wrote a second time to him, but before his answer could reach me, was ordered by the King to return instantly, and to make an oral report of the issue of my commission. I was, therefore, obliged to depart without being able to wait the arrival of his letter.
I anticipated the pleasure of surprising him by my unexpected arrival, and went to his palace as soon as I arrived at Lis*on. He rather seemed surprised than pleased at the unexpected sight of me, asking with a kind of anxiety, whether I had received his last letter. When I answered in the negative he seemed to grow more easy, but adding, some time after, that it would be sent after me without delay, his brow began again to be overclouded. I was not much pleased with this behaviour, and begged him to relate to me the sequel of Alumbrado’s history, but he desired me to await the arrival of his letter, in which I should find a circumstantial account of it. In vain did I conjure him by the ties of our friendship to gratify my desire, and tried every art of persuasion in order to get the wished for information. He always evaded my questions, and frequently betrayed strong marks of uneasiness. Displeased with this reserve and mysterious behaviour, I took leave with evident coolness.
The two following days elapsed without our seeing each other. I must not forget to mention, that I received, the second day after my arrival, a letter from an unknown hand. When I opened the cover, I found a second sealed letter along with the following lines which were directed to me:
“Tomorrow you will receive a visit of an old acquaintance, to whom you will have the kindness to deliver the inclosed letter. But if he should not have made his appearance on the day after to-morrow, you may open the letter, which will give you farther information.”
I could guess neither the writer of the note, nor who that old acquaintance could be.
The day following I received the Duke’s letter, which had been sent after me. I opened it with impatience, and read the following lines:
“It appears more and more probable to me, my friend, that Alumbrado has raised the tempest that threatened to prove fatal to me, in order to punish me for my disobedience to his advice. For should he, who can subdue the billowing waves, not also be able to agitate them? You may say whatever you choose, a supernatural power must have been concerned in that event, and who is capable to fix its extention, its limits? My father and myself venerate Alumbrado as a worker of miracles ever since that event, although he strives to hide himself behind the pious cloak of humility.
“O! why was Alumbrado not present when that tempest raged which deprived me of my Amelia? He would have saved her, and all the gods of earth would envy me for my felicity. The Irishman has cheated me of every earthly blessing, by not fulfilling his promise.
“Concerning the Irishman, Alumbrado has given me a very extraordinary hint. ‘The Marquis of F*’ said he, ‘is undoubtedly right when he maintains, that God never intrusts an impostor with the power of working miracles. He is however mistaken, if he thinks the speaking phantom, which Hiermanfor made appear at the church-yard, had been nothing else but a natural deception; no one will ever persuade me that it is possible to effect any thing of that kind by natural means. Effected by mere natural means, you will say, and yet no miracle? certainly not; for cannot Hiermanfor have deluded you by the assistance of the father of lies? I will not explain my opinion on that head more at large, yet I think the Irishman is an hypocritical villain, who carries on a wicked trade. One ought to congratulate you, that your good principles deterred him from initiating you in his shocking mysteries. It was not without reason that he accused you of want of self-subsistence and resolution, for a dreadful degree of firmness of soul is required for joining in a contract whereby mortal men bid defiance to the great eternal Ruler of the world. However your better genius watched over you, and although you have been entangled a long time in the bonds of wickedness, yet he has delivered you from those snares before they were tied indissolubly. You ought to be thankful to the mercy of the God of love, and to be on your guard in future. If you should meet with men who perform supernatural works, you may easily find out what sort of people they are; if they deal in lies and imposition, they belong to the kingdom of darkness, but if truth and justice is sacred to them, they are children of light. If you had examined the Irishman after this standard, you would have fled with terror from the apparition of the church-yard, and he would never have succeeded in entangling you in an undertaking which has deprived the King of Spa*n of his lawful crown. The doctrine and the principles of the Irishman ought to have rendered him suspected to you. He endeavoured to point out to you the reason as the only infallible instructor and guide, at the expence of faith, and at the same time strove to confound that very reason by artful and fallacious conclusions, as the Marquis of F* has demonstrated in a masterly manner. The Irishman was very careful not to make you reflect on the limits of reason and the power of men, because a genius like you would easily have concluded how much we are in want of divine illumination and grace; and it was his chief aim to remove the light of religion, because his works required being covered by delusive mists. You will never have seen him frequent the church, nor perform religious rites, will never have heard him pronounce certain sacred names. I know that sort of people, who are so much the more dangerous, the more they are skilled in concealing their real shape behind deceiving masks. The spreading libertinism, and the furious rage of explaining every thing naturally, threatens indeed to suspend the belief in the existence, nay even in the possibility of miracles and sorcery, however they have not ceased notwithstanding that. The opinions of men may alter, but things will remain as they are. The same Omnipotence that in times of old has led the Israelites through the red sea, manifests itself still in our days through signs and miracles, although they are not acknowledged as such by the blind multitude. The same reprobated spirit that spoke formerly through the oracle of Delphos, and by whose assistance Simon the magician performed extraordinary feats, is still active in our present times.
“Is it therefore, improbable that men who by their superior sanctity rise above the generality, and connect themselves more intimately with the Godhead, should resemble the Supreme Being in power, and enjoy an immediate influence of the Ruler of the world? Is it so very incomprehensible that the spirit of darkness should favour those who resemble him in wickedness, and endow their inclination of perpetrating wicked deeds with a physical power of executing their diabolical designs? People of either description will, indeed, always rarely be met with; superstition will mistake as such many who do not belong to that class, yet who can prove that they do not exist at all? I am, certainly, no enemy to reason, however I conceive it to be not less absurd obstinately to reject whatever is miraculous, than to believe it blindly. I esteem eason while it does not overstep the limits to which it is confined, as the Marquis of F* has justly observed, nor attempts to expel faith. There are supernatural things, sacred truths, which the former never can comprehend, being reserved only for the latter. Faith is hailed by noontide light, even where reason finds nothing but midnight darkness. While the latter proceeds slowly, and with uncertain steps, through a mazy labyrinth of conclusions and arguments, the former enjoys a clear immediate sight of truth, and experiences all the strength of its evidence.
(To be continued.)