# Original Stories from Real Life/Chapter 16

CHAP. XVI.
The Benefits ariſing from Devotion.—The Hiſtory of the Village School-miſtreſs.—Fatal Effects of Inattention to Expences, in the Hiſtory of Mr. Lofty.
THE next morning Mrs. Maſon deſired the children to get their work, and draw near the table whilſt she related the promiſed hiſtory; and in the afternoon, if the weather be fine, they were to viſit the village ſchool-miſtreſs.
​Her father, the honourable Mr. Lofty, was the youngeſt ſon of a noble family; his education had been liberal, though his fortune was ſmall. His relations, however, ſeemed determined to puſh him forward in life, before he diſobliged them by marrying the daughter of a country clergyman, an accompliſhed, ſenſible woman.
Some time after the birth of his daughter Anna, his elder brother, the Earl of Caermarthen, was reconciled to him; but this reconciliation only led him into expences, which his limited fortune could not bear. Mr. Lofty had a high ſenſe of honour, and rather a profuſe turn; he was beſide a very humane man, and gave away much more than he could afford to give, when his compaſſion was excited. He never did a mean action; but ſometimes an oſtentatious pride tarniſhed the luſtre of very ſplendid ones, made them appear to judicious eyes more like tinſel than gold. I will account for it. His firſt impulſe aroſe from ſenſibility, and the ſecond from an immoderate desire of human applauſe: for he ſeemed ​not to be alive to devotional feelings, or to have that rock to reſt on, which will ſupport a frail being, and give true dignity to a character, though all nature combined to cruſh it.
Mrs. Lofty was not a ſhining character—but I will read you a part of a letter, which her daughter, the lady we are to viſit, wrote to me.
"This being the anniversary of the day on which an ever loved, and much revered parent was releaſed from the bondage of mortality, I obſerve it with particular ſeriouſneſs, and with gratitude; for her ſorrows were great, her trials ſevere—but her conduct was blameleſs: yet the world admired her not; her ſilent, modeſt virtues, were not formed to attract the notice of the injudicious crowd, and her underſtanding was not brilliant enough to excite admiration. But ſhe was regardleſs of the opinion of the world; ſhe ſought her reward in the ſource from whence her virtue was derived—and she found it. He who, for ​wise and merciful purpoſes, ſuffered her to be afflicted, ſupported her under her trials; thereby calling forth the exerciſe of thoſe virtues with which He had adorned her gentle ſoul; and imparting to her a degree of heart-felt comfort, which no earthly bleſſing could afford."
This amiable parent died when Anna was near eighteen, and left her to the care of her father, whose high ſpirit she had imbibed. However, the religious principles which her mother had inſtilled regulated her notions of honour, and ſo elevated her character, that her heart was regulated by her underſtanding.
Her father, who had inſenſibly involved himself in debt, after her mother's death, tried many different ſchemes of life, all of which at firſt wore a promising aspect; but wanting that ſuppleneſs of temper, that enables people to riſe in the world, his ſtruggles, inſtead of extricating, ſunk him still deeper. Wanting alſo the ſupport of religion, he became ſour, eaſily irritated, and almoſt hated a world whoſe applauſe he ​had once eagerly courted. His affairs were at laſt in ſuch a deſperate ſtate, that he was obliged, reluctantly, to accept of an invitation from his brother, who with his wife, a weak fine lady, intended to ſpend ſome time on the continent; his daughter was, of courſe, to be of the party.
The reſtraint of obligations did not ſuit his temper, and feeling himself dependent, he imagined every one meant to inſult him.
Some ſarcaſms were thrown out one day by a gentleman, in a large company; they were not perſonal, yet he took fire. His ſore mind was eaſily hurt, he reſented them; and heated by wine, they both ſaid more than their cool reaſon would have ſuggeſted. Mr. Lofty imagined his honour was wounded, and the next morning ſent him a challenge. They met—and he killed his antagoniſt, who, dying, pardoned him, and declared that the ſentiments which had given him ſo much offence fell from him by accident, and were not levelled at any perſon.
The dying man lamented, that the thread of a thoughtleſs life had been ſo ſuddenly ​ſnapped—the name of his wife and children he could not articulate, when ſomething like a prayer for them eſcaped his livid lips, and ſhook his exhausted frame—The blood flowed in a copious ſtream—vainly did Mr. Lofty endeavour to ſtaunch it—the heart loſt its vital nouriſhment, and the ſoul eſcaped as he preſſed the hand of his deſtroyer, who, when he found him breathleſs, ran home, and ruſhed in a hurry into his own chamber. The dead man’s image haunted his imagination—he ſtarted—imagined that he was at his elbow, and ſhook the hand that had received the dying graſp; yet ſtill it was preſſed, and the preſſure entered into his very ſoul. On the table lay two piſtols, he caught up one,—and ſhot himſelf. The report alarmed the family: the ſervants and his daughter, for his brother was not at home, broke open the door, and ſhe ſaw the dreadful ſight! As there was ſtill ſome appearance of life, a trembling ray, ſhe ſupported the body, and ſent for aſſiſtance: but he ſoon died in her arms without ſpeaking, before the ſervant returned with a ſurgeon.
​Horror ſeized her, another piſtol lay charged on the table; ſhe caught it up, but religion held her hand; ſhe knelt down by a dead father, and prayed to a ſuperior one. Her mind grew calmer, yet ſtill ſhe paſſionately wiſhed ſhe had but heard him ſpeak, or that ſhe had conveyed comfort to his departing ſpirit—where, where would it find comfort? again ſhe was obliged to have recourſe to prayer.
After the death of her father, her aunt treated her as if ſhe were a mere dependent on her bounty; and expected her to be an humble companion in every ſenſe of the word. The viſitors took the tone from her ladyſhip, and numberleſs were the mortifications ſhe had to bear.
The entrance of a perſon about buſineſs interrupted the narration; but Mrs. Maſon promiſed to reſume it after dinner.