My Ten Years Imprisonment | Page 6

my family with a
feeling of such painful presentiment. I am not superstitious; but I was
astonished at my own weakness, and I more than once exclaimed in a
tone of terror, "Good God! whence comes this strange anxiety and
alarm?" and, with a sort of inward vision, my mind seemed to behold
the approach of some great calamity. Even yet in prison I retain the
impression of that sudden dread and parting anguish, and can recall
each word and every look of my distressed parents. The tender
reproach of my mother, "Ah! Silvio has not come to Turin to see US!"
seemed to hang like a weight upon my soul. I regretted a thousand
instances in which I might have shown myself more grateful and
agreeable to them; I did not even tell them how much I loved; all that I
owed to them. I was never to see them more, and yet I turned my eyes
with so much like indifference from their dear and venerable features!
Why, why was I so chary of giving expression to what I felt (would
they could have read it in my looks), to all my gratitude and love? In
utter solitude, thoughts like these pierced me to the soul.
I rose, shut the window, and sat some hours, in the idea that it would be
in vain to seek repose. At length I threw myself on my pallet, and
excessive weariness brought me sleep.
CHAPTER III.

To awake the first night in a prison is a horrible thing. Is it possible, I

murmured, trying to collect my thoughts, is it possible I am here? Is not
all that passed a dream? Did they really seize me yesterday? Was it I
whom they examined from morning till night, who am doomed to the
same process day after day, and who wept so bitterly last night when I
thought of my dear parents? Slumber, the unbroken silence, and rest
had, in restoring my mental powers, added incalculably to the
capability of reflecting, and, consequently, of grief. There was nothing
to distract my attention; my fancy grew busy with absent forms, and
pictured, to my eye the pain and terror of my father and mother, and of
all dear to me, on first hearing the tidings of my arrest.
At this moment, said I, they are sleeping in peace; or perhaps, anxiety
for me may keep them watching, yet little anticipating the fate to which
I am here consigned. Happy for them, were it the will of God, that they
should cease to exist ere they hear of this horrible misfortune. Who will
give them strength to bear it? Some inward voice seemed to whisper
me, He whom the afflicted look up to, love and acknowledge in their
hearts; who enabled a mother to follow her son to the mount of
Golgotha, and to stand under His cross. He, the friend of the unhappy,
the friend of man.
Strange this should be the first time I truly felt the power of religion in
my heart; and to filial love did I owe this consolation. Though not
ill-disposed, I had hitherto been little impressed with its truth, and had
not well adhered to it. All common-place objections I estimated at their
just value, yet there were many doubts and sophisms which had shaken
my faith. It was long, indeed, since they had ceased to trouble my belief
in the existence of the Deity; and persuaded of this, it followed
necessarily, as part of His eternal justice, that there must be another life
for man who suffers so unjustly here. Hence, I argued, the sovereign
reason in man for aspiring to the possession of that second life; and
hence, too, a worship founded on the love of God, and of his neighbour,
and an unceasing impulse to dignify his nature by generous sacrifices. I
had already made myself familiar with this doctrine, and I now
repeated, "And what else is Christianity but this constant ambition to
elevate and dignify our nature?" and I was astonished, when I reflected
how pure, how philosophical, and how invulnerable the essence of

Christianity manifested itself, that there could come an epoch when
philosophy dared to assert, "From this time forth I will stand instead of
a religion like this." And in what manner--by inculcating vice?
Certainly not. By teaching virtue? Why that will be to teach us to love
God and our neighbour; and that is precisely what Christianity has
already done, on far higher and purer motives. Yet, notwithstanding
such had, for years, been my opinion, I had failed to draw the
conclusion, Then be a Christian! No longer let corruption and abuses,
the work of man, deter you; no longer make stumbling-blocks of little
points of doctrine, since the