[Chapter XI.]
Being, in the author's opinion, the best chapter in this history.
The good divine, who had the cure of Arabella's mind greatly at heart, no sooner perceived that the health of her body was almost restored, and that he might talk to her without the fear of any inconvenience, than he introduced the subject of her throwing herself into the river, which he had before lightly touched upon, and still declared himself dissatisfied with.
Arabella, now more disposed to defend this point than when languishing under the pressure of pain and dejection of mind, endeavoured by arguments founded upon romantic heroism, to prove, that it was not only reasonable and just, but also great and glorious, and exactly conformable to the rules of heroic virtue.
The doctor listened to her with a mixed emotion, between pity, reverence, and amazement: and though in the performance of his office he had been accustomed to accommodate his notions to every understanding, and had therefore accumulated a great variety of topics and illustrations; yet he found himself now engaged in a controversy for which he was not so well prepared as he imagined, and was at a loss for some leading principle, by which he might introduce his reasonings, and begin his confutation.
Though he saw much to praise in her discourse, he was afraid of confirming her obstinacy by commendation: and though he also found much to blame, he dreaded to give pain to a delicacy he revered.
Perceiving however, that Arabella was silent, as if expecting his reply, he resolved not to bring upon himself the guilt of abandoning her to her mistake, and the necessity of speaking forced him to find something to say.
Though it is not easy, madam, said he, for any one that has the honour of conversing with your ladyship to preserve his attention free to any other idea than such as your discourse tends immediately to impress, yet I have not been able while you was speaking, to refrain from some very mortifying reflections on the imperfection of all human happiness, and the uncertain consequences of all those advantages which we think ourselves not only at liberty to desire, but obliged to cultivate.
Though I have known some dangers and distresses, replied Arabella gravely, yet I did not imagine myself such a mirror of calamity as could not be seen without concern. If my life has not been eminently fortunate, it has yet escaped the great evils of persecution, captivity, shipwrecks and dangers to which many ladies, far more illustrious both by birth and merit than myself, have been exposed. And indeed though I have sometimes raised envy, or possibly incurred hatred, yet I have no reason to believe I was ever beheld with pity before.