"A friend--the only one I have ever known--taught me other thoughts.
She taught me that others, perhaps all others, were victims, as much
as myself. She taught me that if all the wrecked submitted to be
drowned, the world would be a desert. She taught me to pity others,
even those I myself was paining; for she showed me that they had
sinned in ignorance, and that I had no right to make them suffer so
long as I myself did, merely because they were the authors of my
suffering.
"She showed me, by her own pure example, what were Duty and
Benevolence and Employment to the soul, even when baffled and sickened
in its dearest wishes. That example was not wholly lost: I freed my
parents, at least, from their pain, and, without falsehood, became
less cruel and more calm.
"Yet the kindness, the calmness, have never gone deep. I have been
forced to live out of myself; and life, busy or idle, is still most
bitter to the homeless heart. I cannot be like Almeria; I am more
ardent; and, Aglauron, you see now I might be happy,"
She looked towards V----. I followed her eye, and was well-nigh melted
too by the beauty of his gaze.
"The question in my mind is," she resumed, "have I not a right to fly?
To leave this vacant life, and a tie which, but for worldly
circumstances, presses as heavily on L---- as on myself.
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