“It is universal because it is natural,” said Signor Elvi. “When men cannot breathe freely in despotic courts, they love to lay bare their bosoms to the winds. If they must be dumb before tyrants, they love to shout their songs of liberty in the depths of caverns. If they must smile falsely when the eyes of traitors are upon them, they love to drop their tears into the mountain stream, while none look on but the faithful and silent stars. Nature is the heaven of patriots.”
“But, my dear sir, here are no tyrants to constrain you to silence; and it is to be hoped we are not traitors. Weep as much as you please, and I, for one, will promise not to report your tears.”
“You spoke of patriots,” said the foreigner, smiling; “could I guess that your thoughts were of myself?”
CHAPTER VI.
Departures.
The next day was Sunday. Signor Elvi, whether a Christian or not, went to church with the family, apparently as a matter of course. Mary and Selina stole a glance at one another when the text of the sermon was given out: “Affliction worketh patience; and patience experience; and experience hope.”
How often it happens, that when the attention has been fixed on any idea or feeling, or train of ideas and feelings, some circumstance, or a great variety of circumstances, happens to illustrate or impress yet more deeply the subject of our thought! How eminently useful, in this way, is public worship! for it is scarcely possible that the subject of discourse should not have peculiarly engaged the attention of some one among the hearers so recently as to secure a preparatory interest which must give double effect to what is declared and enforced. This was the case in the present instance. The excellent sermon which Mary and Selina now heard, not only enlarged their views of the subject on which they had talked the day before, but was so fixed in their memories that it recurred to them for a longtime afterwards, whenever suffering, fortitude, self-destruction, and even Signor Elvi and his countrymen were talked about.
The party returned from church by the longer way through the fields, which extended to the back gate of Mr. Byerley’s garden. Mary had put her arm within her father’s, as the Signor walked beside him. These three paced along slowly, while the rest went forward.
Mr. Byerley hoped that his friend had followed his own inclinations about attending worship, and had not accompanied the family merely out of complaisance and observance of custom.
“Convince yourself, from my freedom of yesterday,” was the reply. “If I withdrew myself freely for my own pleasure, think you not I would likewise withdraw rather than dishonour the worship of God by entering his temple with an unwilling heart?”
“I did not know that you could join in Christian worship with a willing heart.”