The Missionary: An Indian Tale; vol. III

by Lady Morgan

  CHAPTER XV.

  Luxima, restored to life, was still feeble and exhausted: but thoughfaded, she was still lovely; and, being immediately recognized as a_Hindu_, that peculiar circumstance awakened curiosity and surmise.Those of her own nation and religion still shrank from her in horror,and declared her to be a _Chancalas_, or outcast; the Moslems who beheldher, sought not to conceal their rude admiration, and recognized her atonce for a _Cashmirian_ by her complexion and her beauty; but thepersons who seemed to observe her with most scrutiny, were _twoEuropeans_, whose features were concealed by hoods, worn apparently toshade off the ardour of the sun. Luxima was permitted to share the_mohaffah_ or litter of a female seik who was going with her husband, adealer in gems, to Tatta. The Missionary was suffered to ascend the backof a camel, whose proprietor had expired the day before in the desert.Having declared himself a Portuguese of distinction, a Christianmissionary, and shewed the briefs which testified his rank, he found nodifficulty in procuring such necessaries as were requisite for the restof their journey, until his arrival at Tatta should enable him to defraythe debt of obligation which he of necessity incurred.

  But though he had declared the nature of the relation in which he stoodto his Neophyte to those immediately about him, yet he fancied, thatthe fact was, received by some with suspicion, and by others withincredulity. He was evidently considered the seducer of the fugitiveIndian; and neither his innocence nor his dignity could save him from aprofound mortification, new and insupportable to his proud and loftynature: yet, trembling to observe the admiration which Luxima inspired,he still hovered near her in ceaseless disquietude and anxiety. Thecaravan was composed of five hundred persons of various nations andreligions;--Mogul pilgrims, going from India to visit the tomb of theirprophet at Mecca; merchants from Thibet and China, carrying the produceof their native climes, the Western coasts of Hindostan; Seiks, theSwiss of the East, going to join the forces of rebelling Rajahs; andfaquirs and dervises, who rendered religion profitable by carrying forsale in their girdles, spices, gold-dust, and musk. Luxima, obviouslyabhorred by those of her own religion, closely observed by some, andsuspected by all, felt her situation equally through her sex and herprejudices, and shrunk from the notice she unavoidably attracted inshame and in confusion: it was now that her forfeiture of cast for thefirst time appeared to the Missionary in all its horrors, and he nolonger wondered that so long as the prejudice existed, with which it isconnected, it should hold so tyrannic an influence over the Indian mind.His tenderness increasing with his pity, and his jealousy of those whoattempted to approach, or to address her, giving a new force andcharacter to his passion, he seldom left the side of her _litter_: yethe endeavoured to moderate the warmth of feelings it was now more thanever necessary to conceal. That passion, dangerous in every situation,was now no longer solitary as the wilds in which it sprang, butconnected with society, and exposed to its observation; and the reservewith which he sought to temper its ardour, restored to it all thatmysterious delicacy, which constitutes, perhaps, its first, and perhapsits best charm.

  The caravan proceeded on its route, and, having passed the Desert,crossed the _Setlege_, and entered the _Moultan_, it halted at one ofits usual stations, and the tents of the travellers were pitched on theshores of the Indus: the perils of the past were no longer remembered,and the safety of the present was ardently enjoyed; while the views andinterests of the motley multitude, no longer subdued by personal danger,or impeded by personal suffering, again operated with their originalforce and activity. The merchants bartered with the traders, who camefrom the surrounding towns for the purpose; and the professors of thevarious religions and sects preached their respective doctrines to thosewhom they wished to convert, or to those who already believed, all butthe Christian Missionary! Occupied by feelings of a doubtful andconflicting nature, sometimes hovering round the tent which Luximashared with the family of the Seik, sometimes buried in profoundthought, and wandering amidst the depths of a neighbouring forest, wherehe sought to avoid the idle bustle of those among whom he wasadventitiously thrown; anxious, unquiet, and distrustful even ofhimself, he was now lost to that evangelic peace of mind, to that sobertranquillity of feeling, so indispensable to the exercise of hismission. Though buried in a reserve which awed, while it distanced,there was a majesty in his air, and a dignified softness in his manner,which daily increased that popular interest in his favour, which hisfirst appearance had awakened: to this he was not insensible; for, stillambitious of distinction as saint or as man, he beheld his influencewith a triumph natural to one, who, emulous of unrivalled superiority,feels that he owes it not to extraneous circumstance, but to that proudand indefeasible right of supreme eminence, with which nature hasendowed him. But he could not but particularly observe, that he was anobject of singular attention to the two European travellers, who,wrapped in mystery, seemed to shun all intercourse, and avoid allobservation; and, though they crossed him in his solitary walks, pursuedhim to the entrance of Luxima’s tent, and hung upon his every word andaction, yet so subtilely had they eluded his notice, that he had not yetobtained an opportunity of either distinctly seeing their features, orof addressing them; all he could learn was, that they had joined thecaravan from _Lahore_, with two other persons of the same dress anddescription as themselves, who had proceeded with the advanced troop ofthe caravan, and that they were known to be Europeans and Christians. Itwas not till the caravan had entered the province of _Sindy_, that oneof them, who rode near the camel of the Missionary, seemed inclined toaddress him; after some observations he said, “It is understood that youare a Christian Missionary! but, while in this mighty multitude theprofessor of each false religion appears anxious to advance hisdoctrine, and to promulgate his creed, how is it that the _apostle ofChristianity_ is alone silent and indifferent on the subject of thatpure faith, to the promulgation of which he has devoted himself?”--

  The Missionary threw a haughty look over the figure of the person whothus interrogated him; but, with a sudden recollection, he endeavouredto recall the humility of his religious character, and replied: “Thequestion is natural--and the silence to which you allude is not theeffect of weakened zeal, nor the result of abated enthusiasm, in thesacred cause to which I have devoted myself--it is a silence whicharises from a consciousness that though I spoke with the tongues ofangels, it _would be here but as the sound of tinkling brass_; for_truth_, which always prevails over unbiassed ignorance, has ever failedin its effect upon bigoted error--and the dogma most difficult tovanquish, is that which is guarded by self-interest.”

  “You allude to the obstinate paganism of the Brahmins?”

  “I allude to the power of the most powerful of all human superstitions;a superstition which equally presides over the heavenly hope, anddirects the temporal concern; and which so intimately blends itself withall the relations of human life, as equally to dictate a doctrinaltenet, or a sumptuary law, to regulate alike the salvation of the soul,and fix the habits of existence.”

  “It is the peculiar character of the zeal of Christianity to rise inproportion to the obstacles it encounters!”

  “The zeal of Christianity should never forsake the mild spirit of itsfundamental principles; in the excess of its warmest enthusiasm, itshould be tempered by charity, guided by reason, and regulated bypossibility; forsaken by these, it ceases to be the zeal of religion,and becomes the spirit of fanaticism, tending only to sever man fromman, and to multiply the artificial sources of aversion by which humansociety is divided, and human happiness destroyed!”

  “This temperance in doctrine, argues a freedom in opinion, and a languorin zeal, which rather belongs to the character of the heathenphilosophy, than to the enthusiasm of Christian faith; had its disciplesbeen always thus moderate, thus languid, thus philosophically tolerant,never would the cross have been raised upon the remotest shores of theEastern and Western oceans!”

  “Too often has it been raised under the influence of a sentimentdiametrically opposite to the spirit of the
doctrine of him who_suffered on it_, and who came not to _destroy_, but to _save_ mankind.Too often has it been raised by those whose minds were guided by an eviland interested policy, fatal to the effects which it sought toaccomplish, and who lifted to Heaven, hands stained with the blood ofthose, to whom they had been sent to preach the religion of peace, oflove, and of salvation; for even the zeal of religion, when animated byhuman passions, may become fatal in its excess, and that daringfanaticism, which gives force and activity to the courage of the man,may render merciless and atrocious, the zeal of the bigot.”

  “You disapprove then of that energy of conversion which either by art orforce secures or redeems the soul from the sin of idolatry?”

  “_Force_ and _art_ may indeed effect profession, but cannot induce theconviction of faith; for the individual perception of truth is not to beeffected by the belief of others, and an act of faith must be either anact of private judgment, or of free will, which no human artifice, nohuman authority can alter or controul.”

  “You disapprove then of the zealous exertions of the Jesuits in thecause of Christianity, and despair of their success?”

  “I disapprove not of the zeal, but of the mediums by which it manifestsitself: I believe that the coercion and the artifice to which theyresort, frequently impel the Hindus to a resistance, which they perhapstoo often expiate by the loss of life and property, but seldom urgethem to the abjuration of a religion, the loss of whose privilegesdeprives the wretched apostate of every human good! It is by a previouscultivation of their moral powers, we may hope to influence theirreligious belief; it is by teaching them to love us, that we can leadthem to listen to us; it is by inspiring them with respect for ourvirtues, that we can give them a confidence in our doctrine: but thishas not always been the system adopted by European reformers, and thereligion we proffer them is seldom illustrated by its influence on ourown lives. We bring them a spiritual creed, which commands them toforget the world, and we take from them temporal possessions, whichprove how much _we live for it_.”

  “With such mildness in opinion, and such tolerance towards theprejudices of others, you have doubtless succeeded in your mission,where a zeal not more pure, but more ardent, would have failed?”

  The Missionary changed colour at the observation, and replied--“The zealof the members of the congregation of the Mission can never be doubted,since they voluntarily devote themselves to the cause of Christianity;yet to effect a change in the religion of sixty millions of people,whose doctrines[11] claim their authority from the records of the mostancient nations,--whose faith is guarded by the pride of rank, theinterest of priesthood, by its own abstract nature, by local habits, andconfirmed prejudices; a faith which resisted the sword of Mahmoud andthe arms of Timur,--requires a power seldom vested in man, and whichtime, a new order of things in India, and the Divine will, can alone, Ibelieve, accomplish.”

  “You return then to the centre of your mission without any converts toyour exertion and your eloquence?”

  “No fruit has been indeed gathered equal to the labour or the hope; forI have made but one proselyte, who purchases the truths of Christianityby the forfeiture of every earthly good!”

  “A _Brahmin_ perhaps?

  “A Brahmin’s daughter! the chief priestess of the pagoda of Sirinagar,in Cashmire, a prophetess, and _Brachmachira_; whose conversion mayindeed be deemed a miracle!”

  “Your neophyte is then that young and beautiful person we first beheldlifeless _in your arms_, in the desert?”

  “The same,” said the Missionary, again changing colour: “She has alreadyreceived the rites of baptism, and I am conveying her to _Goa_, thereher profession of some holy order may produce, by its example, asalutary effect, which her conversion never could have done in Cashmire;a place where the Brahminical bigotry has reached its zenith, and whereher forfeiture of cast would have rendered her an object of opprobriumand aversion!”--As the Missionary spoke, he raised his eyes to the faceof the person he addressed; but it was still shaded by the hood of hiscloak, yet he met an eye so keen, so malignant in its glance, that,could he have shrunk from any mortal look, he would have shrunk fromthis. Struck by its singular expression, and by the certainty of havingbefore met it, he remained for many minutes endeavouring to collect histhoughts, and, believing himself justified by the freedom of thestranger’s inquiries, to question him as to his country and profession,he turned round to address him: but the strangers had now both movedaway, and the Missionary then first observed, that he who had beensilent during this short dialogue, and whom he still held in view, wasemployed in writing on a tablet, as though he noted down the heads ofthe conversation. This circumstance appeared too strange not to excitesome curiosity, and much amazement. The person who addressed him spokein the Hindu dialect, as it was spoken at _Lahore_; but he believed itpossible, that he might have been some emissary from the Jesuits conventthere, on his way to the Inquisitorial college at Goa: this for a momentdisquieted him; for his mind, long divided by conflicting passions, hadlost its wonted self-possession and lofty independence: he had beenrecently accustomed to suspect himself; and he now feared that his zeal,relaxed by passion, had weakened that severity of principle which onceadmitted of no innovation, and thought it not impossible that he mighthave expressed his sentiments with a freedom which bigotry could easilytorture into an evidence of heresy itself. He again sought the twostrangers, but in vain; for they had joined the advanced troop of thecaravan; while a feeling, stronger than any they had excited, stillfixed him in the rear, near the mohaffah of Luxima.

  The caravan now pursued its toilsome route through the rich and varyingdistrict of _Scindi_; and the fresh and scented gales, which blew fromthe Indian sea, revived the languid spirits of the drooping Neophyte;and gave to her eye and cheek, the beam and glow of health andloveliness. Not so the Missionary:--as he advanced towards the haunts ofcivilized society, the ties by which he was bound to it, and itsinfluence and power over his opinions and conduct, which a fatalpassion, cherished in wilds and deserts, had banished from his mind, nowrushed to his recollection with an overwhelming force--he gloomilyanticipated the disappointment which awaited his return to Goa; thetriumph of his enemies, and the discomfiture of his friends; theinferences which might be drawn from the sex and beauty of his solitaryNeophyte; and, above all, the eternal separation from the sole object,that alone had taught him the supreme bliss, which the most profound andprecious feeling of nature can bestow,--a separation, imperiouslydemanded by religion, by honour, and by the respect still due to hischaracter and holy profession. It was his intention to place her in ahouse of Franciscan Sisters, an order whose purity and mildness wassuited to her gentle nature. But, when he remembered the youth andloveliness he was about to entomb, the feelings and affections he wasabout to sacrifice--the warm, the tender, the impassioned heart heshould devote to a cold and gloomy association, with rigid anduncongenial spirits--when he beheld her in fancy ascending the altarsteps, resigning, by vows she scarcely understood, the brilliantillusions of her own imposing and fanciful faith, and embracingdoctrines to which her mind was not yet familiarized, and against whichher strong rooted prejudices and ardent feelings still revolted,--whenhe beheld her despoiled of those lovely and luxuriant tresses which hadso often received the homage of his silent admiration, and almost felthis own hands tremble, as he placed on her brow the veil which concealedher from him for ever,--when he caught the parting sigh,--when hisglance died under the expression of those dove-like eyes, which,withdrawing their looks from the cross, would still throw theirlingering and languid light upon his receding form!--then, worked up toa frenzy of love and of affection, by the image which his fancy and hisfeelings had pictured to his heart, he eagerly sought her presence asthough the moment was already arrived, when he should lose her love forever; and he hung, in such despairing fondness round her, that Luxima,touched by the expression of his countenance, sought to know the causeof his agitation, and to soothe his spirits. The Missionary leaned overthe vehicle, in
which she reposed, to catch the murmurings of her lowand tender voice.

  “Thou art sad,” she said, “and melancholy hangs upon thy brow, now thatdanger is over, and suffering almost forgotten. Is it only in the midstof perils, which strike death upon weaker souls, that _thine_ rejoices?for amidst the conflicts of varying elements, thou wast firm; in theburning desert, thou wast unsubdued--Oh! how often has my fancy likenedthee to the great _vesanti_ plant, which, when it meets not the mightystem round which it is its nature to twine and flourish, droops not,though forsaken, but assuming the form and structure of a towering tree,betrays its aspiring origin, and points its lofty branches towards theheavens, whose storms it dares and thus doth thou seem greatest, whenmost exposed and firmest, when least supported. Oh! father,” she added,with an ardour she had long suppressed, “didst thou feel as I feel, onelook of love would chase all sorrow from thy heart, and sadness from thybrow.”

  “But Luxima,” returned the Missionary, infected by her impassionedtenderness, as if that were almost love’s last look, “if, when every tiewas drawn so closely round the heart, that both must break together--ifthe fatal conciousness of being loved, have become so necessary toexistence, that life seems without it, a cold and dreary waste--if underthe influence of feelings such as these, the moment of an eternalseparation dawns in all its hopeless and insupportable misery on thesoul, then every look which love bestows, mingles sadness withaffection, and despair with bliss.” Luxima turned pale; and she raisedher tearful eyes to his face, not daring to inquire, but by look, howfar that dreadful moment was yet distant. The Missionary pointed out toher a distant view of Tatta, whence they were to sail for Goa; and,stifling the emotions of the lover, and the feelings of the man, heendeavoured to rally back his fading zeal; he spoke to her only in thelanguage of the Missionary and the Priest; he spoke of resigning her to_God alone_; of that perfect conversion which his absence even _more_than his presence would effect!--he described to her the nature andobject of the life she was about to embrace,--its peace--itssanctity--its exemptions from human trials, and human passions--andabove all, the eternal beatitude to which it led;--he spoke to her oftheir separation, as inevitable,--and, concealing the struggles whichexisted in his own mind, he sought only to soothe, to strengthen, andto tranquillize hers. Luxima heard him in silence: she made neitherobjections nor reply. He was struck by the sudden change which tookplace in her countenance, when she learned how soon they were to part,and how inevitable was their separation; it was a look resolute anddespairing,--as if she defied the destiny, cruel as it was, which seemedto threaten her. At some distance from Tatta, the ardours of a verticalsun obliged the caravan to halt, and seek a temporary shade amidst theumbrageous foliage of a luxuriant grove, refreshed by innumerablestreams, flowing into the Indus.

  Luxima left her mohaffah, and, supported by the Missionary, sought thoseshades, which so strongly recalled to her remembrance, the lovelygroves of Cashmire,--and the recollections so sad, and yet so precious,which rushed on her mind, were opposed by those feelings which swelledin her bosom, when a distant view of Tatta recalled to her memory theapproach of that hour which was so soon to lead her to Goa, to thedestined altar of her immolation!--She reflected on the past--sheanticipated the future;--and, for the first time, the powerful emotionsof which she was capable, betrayed themselves with a violence almostirreconcilable with her gentle and tender nature.--Convulsed withlong-stifled feelings, to which she now gave vent, she bathed the earthwhereon she had thrown herself, with tears; and, with an eloquencedictated by love and by despair, she denied the existence of anaffection which could voluntarily resign its object;--she upbraidedequally her lover and herself; and, amidst expressions of reproach andremorse, was still less penitent than tender,--still less lamented hererrors, than the approaching loss of him, for whom she had committedthem.

  “Thou sayest that I am dear to thee,” she said; “and yet I amsacrificed; and by him for whom I have abandoned all, I am now myselfabandoned.--Oh! give me back to my country, my peace, my fame; or sufferme still to remain near thee, and I will rejoice in the loss ofall.--Thou sayest it is the law of thy religion that thou obeyest, whenthou shalt send me from thee:--but, if it is a virtue in thy religion tostifle the best and purest feelings of the heart, that nature implants,how shall I believe in, or adopt, its tenets?--I, whose nature, whosefaith itself, was love--how from thee shall I learn to subdue myfeelings, who first taught me to substitute a human, for a heavenlypassion?--Alas! I have but changed the object, the _devotion_ is stillthe same; and thou art loved by the _outcast_, as the Priestess onceloved Heaven only.”

  “Luxima,” returned the Missionary, distracted equally by his ownfeelings and by hers, “let us from the sufferings we now endure, learnthe extent of the weakness and the errors which we thus, be it hoped, sopainfully expiate; for, it is by despair, such as now distracts us,that Heaven punishes the unfortunate, who suffers a passionate andexclusive sentiment to take possession of the heart, for a creaturefrail and dependant as ourselves. Oh! my daughter, had we but listenedto the voice of religion, or of reason, as we have hearkened to our ownpassions, the most insupportable of human afflictions could not now havebefallen us; and that pang by which we are agonized, at the brink ofeternal separation, would have been spared to those souls, which adivine and imperishable object would then have solely occupied andinvolved.”

  “I, at least,” said Luxima, firmly, yet with wildness, “I shall not longendure that pang:--Thinkest thou that I shall long survive _his_ lossfor whom I have sacrificed all? Oh! no; it was _thou_ I followed, andnot thy doctrines; for, pure and sublime as they may be, they yet camedarkly and confusedly to my soul: but the sentiments thy presenceawakened in my heart, were not opposed by any previous thought orfeelings of my life; they were true to all its natural impulses, and, ifnot understood, they were _felt_ and _answered_; they mingled with mywhole being, and now, even now, form an imperishable part of myexistence.--Shudder not thus, but pity, and forgive me! nor think that,weak as I am, I will deprive thee of thy triumph:--yes, thou shalt leadto the Christian Temple, the descendant of Brahma! thou shalt offer up,a sacrifice on the Christian altar, the first apostate, drawn from themost illustrious of the Indian casts,--a Prophetess! who for theeabandoned the homage of a Divinity,--a woman, who for thee resisted thesplendours of an empire.--And this I will tell to the Christians in themidst of their temple, and their congregation--that they may know thesingle solitary convert thy powers have made, is more than all theproselytes thy brethen e’er brought to kiss the Cross: this I shall do_less in faith_ than _love_; not for _my_ sake, but for _thine_.--Yet,oh! be thou near me at the altar of sacrifice; let me cling to thee tothe last--for, stern and awful as thy religion is, its severity will notrefuse me that: yet, if it punish thee, even for pitying--”

  “And, thinkest thou,” interrupted the Missionary wildly, “that it is_punishment_ I fear, or that if the enjoyment of thy love, fatal anddear as thou art, could be purchased by suffering that I would shrinkfrom its endurance? No! it is not torture the most acute I shun--it is_crime that I abhor_--and, equal to to sustain all sufferings but thoseof conscience, I now live only in dread of myself! For oh! Luxima, evenyet I might spare myself and thee a life so cold, so sad and dreary,that conscious virtue and true religion only can support us throughit,--even yet, escaping from every eye, save Heaven’s, we might togetherfly to the pathless wilds of these delicious regions, and live in sinfulbliss, the commoners of nature:--But, Luxima, the soul of him wholoves, and who resists thee, is formed of such a temper, that it cantaste no perfect joy in weakness or in crime. Pity then, and yetrespect, him who, loving thee and virtue equally, can ne’er knowhappiness without nor with thee,--who, thus condemned to suffer, withoutceasing, submits not to his fate, but is overpowered by its tyranny, andwho, alike helpless and unresigned, opposes while he suffers, andrepines while he endures; knowing only the remorse of guilt without itsenjoyments, and expecting its retribution, without daring to deprecateits weight.” Exh
austed and overpowered, he fell prostrate on the earth;cold damps hung on his brow, and burning tears fell from his inflamedeyes.--Luxima, terrified by his emotion, faint and trembling, crepttimidly and tenderly towards him; and, pressing his hands, she murmuredsoothingly, yet with firmness, “Since then we can both only live tosuffer or to err, to be miserable or to be guilty, wherefore should wenot die?”

  The Missionary raised his eyes to her face, and its expression ofloveliness and love, though darkened by despair, rendered her moreenchanting in his eyes, than she had ever yet appeared: he felt hertears on his hands, which she pressed alternately to her eyes and to herlips; and this eloquent though silent expression of an affection sopure, which he believed was to be the last proof of love he might everreceive, overwhelmed him.

  Silent and motionless, he withdrew not his hands from the clasp of hers;he gazed on her with unrestrained feelings of love and pity, his wholesoul seeming to diffuse itself through his eyes, over her countenanceand figure. It was in this transient moment of high-wrought emotions,that they were suddenly surrounded by a group of persons who sprang frombehind a rock. Luxima was torn from the arms, which but now protectinglyencircled her; and the Missionary was seized with a violence, that, inthe first moment of amazement and horror, deprived him of all presenceof mind. But the feeble plaints of Luxima, who was borne away in thearms of one of the assailants, recalled to his bewildered mind aconsciousness of their mutual sufferings, and situations:--he struggledwith all the strength of frenzy in the strong grasp of the two personswho held him;--he shook them from him as creatures of inferior force andnature; and looked so powerful, in his uncurbed rage, that a third, whostood armed before him, attempted not to arrest his flight, as he sprangforward to the rescue of Luxima, who lay lifeless in the arms of theperson who was carrying her away; but in the next moment his ownencircled her: the person from whom he had torn her, seemed no lessbold, no less resolved than he; drawing a pistol from beneath his robe,he pointed it to the Missionary’s breast; and exclaimed, “To resist, isbut to increase your crimes, and to endanger your life.” The Missionarygently disengaged himself from Luxima, who sunk to the earth, and,springing like a lion on his opponent, he seized his arm;--closelyentwined in bonds of mutual destruction, they wrestled for life anddeath, with a strength almost supernatural,--at last, Hilarion wrestingthe pistol from the hand of his adversary, flung him against a rock, atwhose base he lay apparently without life.--His three associates nowcame to the scene of action--armed, and with looks that threatened toavenge the fate of their companion; but the Missionary stood firm andunappalled, his eye lowring defiance, and raising Luxima in one arm,while with the other he pointed the pistol towards them, he said boldly,“Whoe’er you be, and whatever may have tempted you to this desperateoutrage, I shall not spare the life of him who dares approach one singlestep.”

  The persons looked in consternation on each other; but one of them,whose face was till now concealed, threw back his hood and robe, anddiscovered on his breast, the Badge which distinguishes _the officers ofthe Inquisition_![12] It was then, that the Missionary recognized inthe European traveller the Coadjutor whom he had disgraced and dismissedfrom his appointment, during their voyage to India. Amazed, confounded,but not subdued, he met, with an undaunted look, the keen, malignant,and avengeful glance, which was now directed at him: “Knowest thou me?”demanded the Inquisitor scoffingly, “who, now high in power in thehighest of all human tribunals, was once covered with shame andopprobrium, by thy superior excellence! Where now are all the mightyvirtues of the _man without a fault_? where now are the wonders whichhis zeal and genius promised? what are the fruits of his unrivalledMission? Behold him! supporting on his bosom, the victim of hisseductive arts!--his sacrilegious hand, pointing an instrument of deathat those who are engaged in the duties of that holy office, whosecensure he has incurred by dreadful heresies, by breach of solemn vows,and by his heretical defamation of a sacred Order!”--While theInquisitor yet spoke, several persons from the Caravan had arrived onthe spot, to witness a scene so singular and so unexpected: Luxima too,who had recovered her senses, still trembling and horror-struck, clungto the bosom, which now so wildly heaved to the emotions of rage andindignation.

  Silent for many minutes, the Missionary stood gazing with a look ofproud defiance and ineffable contempt upon his avengeful enemy: “Andknow _you_ not me?” he at last exclaimed, with a lofty scorn--“you knewme once, supreme, where _you_ dared not _soar_!--Such as _I then was_,such _I now am_; in every thing unchanged--and still, in every thing,_your_ superior!--Grovelling and miserable _as you are_ even in yourunmerited elevation--this you _still_ feel;--speak, then; what are yourorders!--tremble not, but declare them!--It is the Count of Acugna, itis the Apostolic _Nuncio_ of _India_, who commands you!”--Pale withstifled rage, the Inquisitor drew from his bosom the brief, by which hewas empowered to call those before the Inquisitorial Court, whoseconduct and whose opinions should fall under the suspicions of thoseemissaries, which it had deputed to visit the Christian establishmentsin the interior of India.--The Missionary glanced his eye over the awfulinstrument, and bowed low to the Red Cross imprinted at its head: theInquisitor then said, “Hilarion, of the Order of St. Francis, and memberof the Congregation of the Mission;--I arrest you in the name of theHoly Office, and in presence of these its ministers, that you may answerto such charges as I shall bring against you, before _the tribunal_ ofthe Inquisition.” At these words, the Missionary turned pale!--naturestood checked by religion!--passion submitted to opinion, and prejudicegoverned those _feelings_, over which _reason_ had lost all sway. He letfall the instrument of death, which he had held in his hand till now;the voice of the Church had addressed him, and all the powerful forceof his religious habits returned upon his soul: he, who till now hadfelt only as a _man_, remembered he was a _religious_; he who had long,who had so recently, acknowledged the precious influence of humanfeeling, now recalled to mind that he had vowed the sacrifice of _all_human feeling to Heaven!--and he who had resisted oppression, andavenged insult, now recollected, that by the religion he professed, hewas bound when one _cheek was smitten, to turn the other_.

  The rage which had blazed in the eyes of the indignant, the blood whichhad boiled in the veins of the brave, no longer flashed in the glance,or crimsoned the cheek of the Christian Missionary; yet still it was--

  “Awe from above, that quelled his heart, nought else dismayed.”

  The officers of the Inquisition now approached, to bind his arms, and tolead him away; but Luxima, with a shriek of horror, threw herselfbetween them, ignorant of the nature of the danger which assailed herlover and her friend, and believing it nothing less than death itself:her wild and frenzied supplications, her beauty and affection, touchedthe hearts of those who surrounded them. The Missionary had alreadyexcited a powerful interest in his favour: the popular feeling is alwayson the side of resistance against oppression--for men, however viciousindividually, are generally virtuous in the mass: his fellow-travellers,therefore, boldly advanced, to rescue one, whose air and manner hadcaptivated their imaginations. The passions of a multitude know noprecise limit; the partisans of the Missionary only waited for theorders of him whom they were about to avenge: they said, “Shall we throwthose men under the camels feet? or shall we bind them to those rocks,and leave them to their fate?”

  The Europeans shuddered, and turned pale!

  The Missionary cast on them a glance of contempt and pity, and, lookinground him with an air at once dignified and grateful, he said, “Myfriends, my heart is deeply touched by your generous sympathy; good andbrave men ever unite, of whatever region, or whatever faith they maybe: but I belong to a religion whose spirit it is to save, and not todestroy; suffer then, these men to live; they are but the agents of ahigher power, whose scrutiny they challenge me to meet.--I go to appearbefore that tribunal of that church, whose voice is my law, and fromwhich a Christian minister can make no appeal,--I trust I go to contend_best_ with the _best_; prepared rather to suff
er death myself, than tocause the death of others.”

  Then turning to the Inquisitor he said, pointing to Luxima, whom heagain supported in his arms, “Remember, that by a word I could have hadyou mingled with the dust I tread on; but, as you prize that life Ihave preserved, guard and protect this sacred, this consecratedvestal!--_look at her!_--otherwise than pure and innocent, you dare notbelieve her: know then, also, she is a Christian Neophyte, who hasreceived the Baptismal rites, and who is destined to set a brightexample to her idolatrous nation, and to become the future spouse ofGod.”

  Subdued and mortified, the officers of the Inquisition made no reply. Hewhom the Missionary had wounded, now crawled towards the others--theysurrounded their unresisting prisoner, who bore along the feeble form ofthe Indian: silent, and weeping, she was consigned to the mohaffah shehad before occupied; and, the Missionary having ascended the back ofhis camel, the caravan was again in motion--two of the Inquisitorsremained with their prisoner--the other two had rode on before thecaravan to _Tatta_.