Every Sunday, after sermon-time, my companions came to fetch me out, wishing me to partake of their diversions.I would willingly have been excused, but when once engaged in amusement, I was more animated and enterprising than any of them; it was equally difficult to engage or restrain me: indeed, this was ever a leading trait in my character.In our country walks I was ever foremost, and never thought of returning till reminded by some of my companions.I was twice obliged to be from my master's the whole night, the city gates having been shut before I could reach them.The reader may imagine what treatment this procured me the following mornings; but I was promised such a reception for the third, that I made a firm resolution never to expose myself to the danger of it.Notwithstanding my determination, I repeated this dreaded transgression, my vigilance having been rendered useless by a cursed captain, named M.Minutoli, who, when on guard, always shut the gate he had charge of an hour before the usual time.I was returning home with my two companions, and had got within half a league of the city, when I heard them beat the tattoo; I redouble my pace, I run with my utmost speed, I approach the bridge, see the soldiers already at their posts I call out to them in a suffocated voice- it is too late; I am twenty paces from the guard, the first bridge is already drawn up, and I tremble to see those terrible horns advanced in the air which announce the fatal and inevitable destiny, which from this moment began to pursue me.
I threw myself on the glacis in a transport of despair, while my companions, who only laughed at the accident, immediately determined what to do.My resolution, though different from theirs, was equally sudden: on the spot, I swore never to return to my master's, and the next morning, when my companions entered the city, I bade them an eternal adieu, conjuring them at the same time to inform my cousin Bernard of my resolution, and the place where he might see me for the last time.
From the commencement of my apprenticeship I had seldom seen him; at first, indeed, we saw each other on Sundays, but each acquiring different habits, our meetings were less frequent.I am persuaded his mother contributed greatly towards this change; he was to consider himself as a person of consequence, I was a pitiful apprentice;notwithstanding our relationship, equality no longer subsisted between us, and it was degrading himself to frequent my company.As he had a natural good heart his mother's lessons did not take an immediate effect, and for some time he continued to visit me.
Having learned my resolution, he hastened to the spot I had appointed, not, however, to dissuade me from it, but to render my flight agreeable, by some trifling presents, as my own resources would not have carried me far.He gave me, among other things, a small sword, which I was very proud of, and took with me as far as Turin, where absolute want constrained me to dispose of it.The more Ireflect on his behavior at this critical moment, the more I am persuaded he followed the instructions of his mother, and perhaps his father likewise; for, had he been left to his own feelings, he would have endeavored to retain, or have been tempted to accompany me;on the contrary, he encouraged the design, and when he saw me resolutely determined to pursue it, without seeming much affected, left me to my fate.We never saw or wrote to each other from that time: I cannot but regret this loss, for his heart was essentially good, and we seemed formed for a more lasting friendship.
Before I abandon myself to the fatality of my destiny, let me contemplate for a moment the prospect that awaited me had I fallen into the hands of a better master.Nothing could have been more agreeable to my disposition, or more likely to confer happiness, than the peaceful condition of a good artificer, in so respectable a line as engravers are considered at Geneva.I could have obtained an easy subsistence, if not a fortune; this would have bounded my ambition; I should have had means to indulge in moderate pleasures, and should have continued in my natural sphere, without meeting with any temptation to go beyond it.Having an imagination sufficiently fertile to embellish with its chimeras every situation, and powerful enough to transport me from one to another, it was immaterial in which I was fixed; that was best adapted to me, which, requiring the least care or exertion, left the mind most at liberty; and this happiness I should have enjoyed.In my native country, in the bosom of my religion, family, and friends, I should have passed a calm and peaceful life in the uniformity of a pleasing occupation, and among connections dear to my heart.I should have been a good Christian, a good citizen, a good friend, a good man.I should have relished my condition, perhaps have been an honor to it, and after having passed a life of happy obscurity, surrounded by my family, I should have died at peace.Soon it may be forgotten, but while remembered it would have been with tenderness and regret.
Instead of this- what a picture am I about to draw!- Alas! why should I anticipate the miseries I have endured? The reader will have but too much of the melancholy subject.
End of Book I
