CHAPTER I.
Early Life of Philip Brusque.—He engages in the French Revolution.—Is at length suspected by Robespierre, and obliged to fly.—Enters on board a Ship, and is cast away upon an uninhabited Island in the Indian Ocean.—Description of the place.—Philip fancies that he is now happy, having found perfect Liberty.
Philip Brusque was a young Frenchman, who engaged very heartily in the revolution that began to agitate France about the year 1789. He was young, ardent and discontented. Though he had little education, he had still read many of the papers and pamphlets of the day. These had filled his mind with a horror of kings, and the most intoxicating dreams of liberty. Knowing little of political government, except that of France, and which he saw to be corrupt and despotic, he adopted the idea that all government was bad, and to this he attributed nearly all the evils of society. With the ardor of a young but heated fancy, he looked forward to the destruction of the monarchy as certain to bring a political millennium, when every man should walk forth in freedom and happiness, restrained by no law except the moral sense of man, and the innate perception and love of human rights.
With these views, which were then common among the French people, and which artful disorganizers had disseminated, in order thereby to acquire power, Philip arrived at Paris. He was soon engaged in several of the debating clubs of that great metropolis, and being possessed of natural eloquence, he speedily became a leader. He was present at the destruction of the Bastile, and his own vigorous hand battered down more than one of the iron doors of that horrid prison. Looking upon these gloomy walls, with their dark chambers, and the chains and instruments of torture which were found there, as at once emblems and instruments of that tyranny which had cursed his country for ages, Philip felt a high inspiration in witnessing its demolition. As one portion after another of the massy wall was hurled to the earth, he seemed to fancy that a whole nation must breathe more freely; and in seeing the pallid wretches delivered from the dungeon, where some of them had been imprisoned for years, he seemed to think that he saw the spirit of his country set at liberty.
The Bastile was soon but a heap of ruins. The whole fabric of the French monarchy, which had existed for twelve centuries, in a few brief years had shared the same fate. Louis XVI. had been beheaded, and his beautiful queen had been brought to the block. In all these scenes Brusque had taken a part. He was present at the execution of Marie Antoinette. He had no respect for majesty, but he was not yet lost to a sense of decency in respect to woman. The shocking and brutal insults offered to the queen, worse than anything ever witnessed among savages, disgusted Philip. He was indeed sick of blood, and he ventured to speak his sentiments aloud. His words were repeated to Robespierre and the rest of the bloody men who then held the sway. Philip became suspected, and he was obliged to fly to save his life. He reached the coast of France with difficulty, and entering on board a merchant ship as a sailor, set out upon a voyage to China.
Nothing remarkable happened for some time; but when the ship had doubled the Cape of Good Hope, and entered the Indian Ocean, a violent storm arose. The vessel contended bravely with the waves for a time, but at length her masts were swept away, the helm was broken, and the hull of the ship rolled like a log amidst the tumbling waters. She then drifted for a time at the mercy of the winds, and at length came near a small island. She then struck on a rock, and went to pieces. All the crew were drowned except the hero of our story, who seized upon a plank, and, after two days of toil and suffering, reached the shore of the island.
He landed upon a pebbly beach, but he was so exhausted as only to be able to draw himself up from the waves. There he lay for a long time, almost unconscious of existence. At length, his strength returned, and he began to think over what had happened. When his reason was, at last, fully returned, he fell upon his knees, and thanked Heaven for his preservation. It was the first prayer he had uttered for years, for Philip Brusque had been told by the French revolutionists that there was no God, and that prayer was a mere mockery. But now he prayed, and felt in his heart that there was indeed a God, that claimed gratitude and thanksgiving from the lips of one who had been saved from death, while his companions had all been drowned.
Philip was soon able to look about the island and make observations. It was a lovely spot, about four miles in circuit, and pleasantly varied with hills and valleys. It was almost covered with beautiful trees, on some of which there were delicious fruits. Birds of bright feathers and joyous notes glanced through the forests, and sweet perfumes were wafted on the warm, soft breezes. Philip walked about the island, his delight and wonder increasing at every step. And what seemed to please him most of all was, that the island was without a single human inhabitant except himself.
“Now,” said Philip, in the fulness of his heart, “I shall be happy. Here I can enjoy perfect liberty. Here is no prison like the Bastile; here is no king to make slaves of his fellow-men; here is no Robespierre to plot the murder of his fellow-citizens. Oh liberty! how have I worshipped thee, and here, in this lone island, I have now found thee. Here, I can labor or rest, eat or drink, wake or sleep, as I please. Here is no one to control my actions or my thoughts. In my native country, all the land belongs to a few persons, but here I can take as much land as I please. I can freely pick the fruit from the trees according to my choice or my wants. How different is my situation from what it was in France! There, everything belonged to somebody, and I was restrained from taking anything, unless I paid for it. Here, all is free; all is mine. Here I can enjoy perfect liberty. In France, I was under the check and control of a thousand laws; here, there is no law but my own will. Here, I have indeed found perfect liberty.”
(To be continued.)