a classmate, who had called on Arthur shortly after he was settled in
his home. "Why, the arrangement of all these minerals and shells and
insects must be an endless task. If I had as much money as you, I would
purchase my cabinets ready furnished."
"So would I, if all I wanted was to exhibit them," replied Arthur,
pleasantly.
"And what more important purpose do you intend these shall serve?"
"I intend they shall contribute to my own gratification and
improvement," said Arthur. "There is hardly a specimen here but has its
history, which awakens some pleasant association of heart, memory, or
mind. Some were presented by men I honor, and some by friends I love.
This curious shell was the gift of a lady on my last birthday; and the
benignant wishes that accompanied it made me, I trust, a better man;
or, at least, they inspired me with new resolutions to deserve her
commendations. These petrifactions and fossils are a memento of many
delightful hours I have spent with some of the noble French naturalists
and philosophers. That _beetle_, I could tell you a long story about
it, the time I spent in watching its habits, the pains I took to assure
myself it was a nondescript, and the pleasure I enjoyed when the great
Cuvier complimented me for my patience and research--but I fear you
would think this all nonsense."
"It is not what I should go to Paris to learn," returned the other.
"But then I must think of my profession; a physician is the slave of
the public. You can use your time as you please, and are not compelled
to coin it into money in order to live."
"No; but I have had as hard a lesson perhaps. I have had to learn that
money will not buy happiness, and that he who is not compelled to
labor for food must labor for an appetite, which, in the end, amounts
to about the same thing."
"You were always stoically inclined, Arthur; but a young man with
a million at command will find it rather difficult to act the
philosopher. The world has a powerful current, and fashion a sweeping
breeze."
"They will not move me from my course, George: that is fixed, and, with
Heaven's blessing, I will hold on my way. My father's example is my
chart, and the Christian rule my compass."
"You think so now---well, we shall see. Your father was a good man and
a happy one, and that is much in your favor. Had you witnessed, as I
have done, the weary, monotonous, heartless, wretched life many who
call themselves _good_ undergo, and, what is worse, inflict on others,
you would not have much inclination for goodness."
"Your remarks, George, are just. I have known young men plunge into
dissipation avowedly to shake off the restraints of morality which
had been imposed in a manner so galling. And I have known others hold
business in abhorrence only because the selfish, slavish life their
fathers had led made application seem a drudgery. I trust I have more
rational views--thanks to my good parents!"
* * * * *
No man should say he will be always wise. Who would guess that Arthur,
so calm, rational, and discriminating, would have fallen in love with a
coquette? But this he did, notwithstanding the _penchant_ he intended
to cultivate for the pretty Ellen Gray. My lady readers probably
thought she was predestined to be his wife, and I should have been glad
to describe the tender and tranquil loves of two beings who seemed so
congenial. But authors cannot control fate.
Arthur Lloyd was, to be sure, deeply interested with Ellen's meek and
innocent beauty, and he was touched to the heart by the unaffected
sorrow which any allusion to his parents would excite in her manner,
even when she controlled the expression of her grief, which she could
not always. And he often thought nothing could be more lovely than
her fair face, rather pale perhaps; but then the predominance of the
lily seemed to be the effect of purity of mind, not languor of body,
when contrasted with the deep mourning habiliments which he knew were
in truth the outward token of that sadness of spirit which she was
cherishing for the loss of those who had also been the dearest to him.
Could they choose but sympathize? If they did, it was very secretly and
silently.
It might be that this necessity for communion was the very cause
which prevented Arthur from feeling other than a brother's affection
for the sweet girl whose interests he was deputed to defend; and, on
her part, there hardly seemed a sister's confidence yielded to her
young guardian. A guardian! Who ever read of a lady falling in love
with her guardian? The impossibility of the circumstance seemed fully
understood and acted upon by the belles of New York, who were sedulous
to attract the attention of such a fine man as Arthur Lloyd. But he
was not disposed to mingle much in society; and, during the year which
succeeded his father's death, he was almost wholly engrossed with his
business and various plans for promoting public education and elevating
the character of our national literature. This was the favorite object
to which he resolved to devote his energies and his resources. He was
persuaded that a republican people must derive their chief happiness
and their highest honors from intellectual pursuits, if they intend
their institutions shall be permanent. The glories of conquest and
the luxuries of wealth alike tend to make the few masters and the
many slaves; but, if the mild light of science and literature be the
guide of a people, all will move onward together, for the impulse of
knowledge has an attractive force that elevates, proportionally, every
mind over which its influence can be extended.
Such were Arthur Lloyd's sentiments; and it would have been strange
if he had not felt a deep respect for the character of the Puritans,
and a wish to cultivate an acquaintance with New England people, who,
whatever be their faults, have rarely sinned through ignorance.
So Arthur visited Boston during the summer of 18--, and received from
the _élèves_ of society all that courtesy and hospitality which a rich
stranger is sure to elicit. He could hardly be termed a stranger,
however, for his father had many commercial friends in Boston, and they
cordially transferred their favor to the son. Everything was calculated
to make Arthur think highly of the people; the tone of intelligent and
liberal feeling appeared the result of the liberality which had laid
the foundation of popular instruction, and young Lloyd became every day
more satisfied of the truth of his favorite theory, namely, educate all
the children and you will reform all the world. A man is never more
self-satisfied than when he is confirming a favorite theory.
Among the multitude of friends and flatterers that surrounded Arthur,
none charmed him so completely as the Hon. Mr. Markley and family. The
gentleman was himself very eloquent, his lady very elegant, and their
daughters exceedingly fascinating. They all exerted their talents to
please Arthur; it was no more than he merited, a stranger and a guest,
and so handsome and intelligent and agreeable! Who thought he was worth
a million? Not the Markleys; for they were never heard to speak of a
selfish sentiment except to condemn it. Arthur thought he never met
with a more disinterested family.
Arabella Markley was a most captivating creature, and she soon
contrived to make Arthur sensible of it; and he found, to his
mortification, that he had not so fully and firmly the mastery of his
own mind as he had flattered himself with possessing. Love exhibits
much the same symptoms in the wise as the weak; and Arthur, when beside
Arabella, forgot there was for him any higher object in this world
than to please a woman. But sometimes in the solitude of his chamber
other thoughts would arise; he could not but see that the Markleys were
devoted to fashion and gayety, though Arabella had assured him she
did not enjoy the bustle, but that excitement was necessary for her
father's spirits and health.
If she makes this sacrifice for her father, thought Arthur, how gladly
will she conform to my quiet domestic plan! Still there was something
in the expression of her face, and more in her manner, which denoted
a fondness for show and variety; and whenever Arthur wrote to Ellen
Gray, which he often did, as he had promised to give her the history
of his tour, the contrast between her beauty and that of Arabella
always came over his mind. He described Arabella in one of his letters
to Ellen, and concluded with observing: "If she had a little more of
your tenderness and placidity in the expression of her eyes, she would
be a perfect model of female loveliness; but that would make her too
angelic, the arch vivacity of her glance assures her to be human, and
susceptible of human sympathies."
Ellen Gray read that passage over and over; but she never answered the
letter, for Arthur returned to New York before she could arrange her
thoughts for a reply.
Arthur left Boston without any explanation, as they say, though he
had been several times on the point of making the love speech. It
seemed as if some spell were restraining him, for Arabella had given
him opportunities of seeing her alone, and Mr. and Mrs. Markley had
evidently sought to draw him to their parties. Perhaps this solicitude
had been one means of deferring the proposals. Lloyd found himself
so agreeably entertained, he could hardly wish to be happier. Like
the Frenchman who would not marry the lady he admired and visited
constantly, because he should have no place to pass his evenings,
Arthur Lloyd might have been fearful that _certainty_ would have made
his visits, which were hailed as favors, appear only events of course.
Young gentlemen have thus reasoned.
Arabella was sadly disappointed, for she had really acted her part
most admirably, and she expected to succeed. She knew the power of
her charms, and, fond of flattery as she was, had resolved such
unsubstantial coin should never gain her hand. A coquette by nature and
habit, she had managed to draw many distinguished beaux in her train,
but none, till Arthur had appeared, had been rich enough to satisfy her
ambition. However, he had agreed to correspond, and she knew well how
to draw an inference or frame a remark which would render it necessary
for him to explain.
So they parted, both persuaded in their own hearts that they should
soon meet, though he did not feel that the choice was one his parents
would entirely have approved. But her letters might prove her
excellence; he knew the fashionable scenes in which he had chiefly
beheld her were not calculated to display the amiable traits of
character in a woman. There were several circumstances which occurred
to Arthur, as he journeyed homeward, that determined him to be guarded
in his letters, at least for a season. And he determined also to
consult Ellen Gray on the subject; he considered her as having a
sister's right to his confidence. But Ellen was very ill, he found, and
any allusion to the fair lady he had seen in Boston seemed difficult
to introduce to one who looked so sad and serious. Nevertheless, he
ventured to name the subject once, and Ellen listened calmly to all his
praises of Arabella; and to his reiterated request that his _sister_,
as he called Ellen, should give him her opinion.
She advised him to marry the lady if he loved her, and felt assured
she loved him. The last remark was spoken in a low tone, and Mrs.
C., the preceptress, entering at that moment, thought Ellen was too
much fatigued for further conversation. And so it proved, for she was
seriously ill for several days after, and it was weeks before she was
able to see Arthur again.
In the mean time, the correspondence between Mr. Lloyd and Miss
Markley commenced with spirit; on his part, rather intended to
fathom her principles and taste than her affections; and on hers,
under an appearance of careless vivacity, to ascertain his real
intentions respecting her. There is nothing like a little jealousy
for expediting love matters, many ladies believe; and Arabella held
the creed fully, as her third letter proved. It was filled with the
description and praises of an emigrant Frenchman, Count de Verger,
who had recently arrived in Boston. His merits could be equalled only
by his misfortunes, which had been manifold as those of Ulysses. His
courage and constancy had hitherto borne him up; but, when he arrived
penniless on the shore of the New World, his mental sufferings were, as
Arabella described them, extreme. In Europe, a man was respected for
his birth and breeding, and, though he had lost his property, his rank
entitled him to consideration. But, in our republic, where men were
judged by their own merits, not by their father's title, the unlucky
Count de Verger feared that his misfortunes might be imputed as crimes.
He could endure poverty, but not contempt. He had once resolved to
conceal his rank, and even his name; but his abhorrence of falsehood
and hypocrisy enabled him to overcome this false pride, and so he was
known for a nobleman, though he modestly disclaimed all intention of
endeavoring to support his rank. If he could earn sufficient by his
talents and accomplishments to maintain himself, he felt that he should
be truly happy. Among his accomplishments was that of playing the harp
with a surprising degree of skill, when it was considered that he had
only practised for his own amusement. But he now thought it possible
he might make this knowledge of music available, if any of the fair
ladies of Boston should feel disposed to take lessons on the harp.
His wonderful condescension was no sooner known than there appeared
a competition among fashionable ladies who should first secure the
services of this amiable and gifted nobleman. His tuition charges were
exorbitant; but he was a foreigner, and a count; and, besides, he had
been unfortunate, and republicans must pay liberally for the graces
which can only be taught by those who have witnessed the refinements of
royal taste and the magnificence of courts.
These were the items of intelligence Arabella dilated upon with
touching pathos in her letter to Arthur Lloyd; she was in raptures
with the Count de Verger. Such an accomplished scholar! so perfect and
gentlemanly! His mind was a constellation of all brilliant qualities;
his manners the embodied essence of suavity and elegance! There were
but two objections the most fastidious critic could make to his
appearance He squinted a little; but Arabella did not dislike a slight
cast of the eye, it rather gave a fascinating effect to a handsome
countenance. The other fault was, in her opinion, a perfection. The
count wore moustaches (this was before beards were the rage), and our
smooth, Puritan-faced men of business disliked moustaches; but Arabella
was glad the ladies had more taste for the picturesque. For her part,
she should for the future make it a _sine qua non_ with all gentlemen
who aspired to her friendship to cultivate moustaches. It was needless
to say she was learning to play the harp; it might more properly be
called adoring it. She was never before so engrossed with any pursuit;
and she only wished, to complete her felicity, that Mr. Lloyd could
become acquainted with her tutor, and witness the proficiency she was
making.
"Fudge!" said Arthur, giving audible expression to his thoughts, as he
kicked a fallen brand with the petulance of a poet, forgetting there
was poker, tongs, or servants in the world. "Fudge! wears moustaches
and squints! I'll see the fellow!"
Arthur was sensible he felt disappointed, not so much that Arabella
proved a coquette as that his estimate of the effect of education on
the female mind should be found false. He had drawn his conclusions
logically; thus: Virtuous and intelligent women are sincere and
reasonable; New England ladies are virtuous and intelligent; therefore,
they are sincere and reasonable. And yet here was one who had enjoyed
every mental and moral advantage a lady could require to perfect her
character acting the part of an artful coquette; or otherwise she was
a silly dupe, for the story of the Count de Verger Arthur credited no
more than the adventures of Baron Munchausen.
He did not write to Arabella to announce his intention of visiting
her, fearing the count might, in that case, retire for a season, and
he much wished to see him. So Arthur reached Boston and astonished his
friends, who could find no solution for the sudden movement but that he
had learned the danger there was that Miss Markley would be won by the
gallant Frenchman; and all the inquiries he made respecting the count
he had the mortification of finding were regarded as the promptings of
a jealous spirit seeking to find matter of accusation against a rival.
Many of the gentlemen whom he addressed on the subject declared their
belief that the professor of the harp was a real count, his bearing
and manner were decidedly noble, and there was a thoroughbred air in
his address which distinguished foreigners of high rank, and which our
richest and most eminent men, who were always compelled to speak of
themselves as plain citizens, and only enjoying equal privileges with
the people, never could display.
"I would give fifty thousand," said a young mercantile gentleman, whose
father had, by careful industry, amassed a large fortune, "if I could
appear with the ease and elegance of the Count de Verger. I met him the
other day at the dinner party of Mr. ----, and I assure you he was the
lion of the day. It is no wonder the ladies admire him."
"No, it is no wonder," thought Arthur, "that our ladies despise us for
not possessing the manners of slaves, while we men so undervalue and
abuse our privilege of being free. If fashion and etiquette are to
be considered the most important objects of pursuit among those who
assume the first place in our society, we shall always be inferior
to the nobles where distinctions of rank and descent of property are
so established that fashion and etiquette can have trained subjects
and established laws. We republicans must have our standard of
respectability founded on moral worth, usefulness, and intelligence,
or the discrepancy between our institutions and manners will make us
ridiculous in the eyes of other nations, and contemptible in that of
our own. But I will see this count, and, if he prove to be my old
valet"----
Compressing his lips, as if to prevent the expression of a hasty
resolve, he bent his steps to the dwelling of Mr. Markley.
It was in the morning, and too early for a fashionable call; but
Arthur had learned that the Count de Verger gave lessons to Miss
Markley at half past ten; and that the young lady frequently admitted
her particular friends to congratulate her respecting the astonishing
progress she made on the harp. Mr. Lloyd was known to the servants
as a favored visitor, and found no difficulty in being admitted, and
ushered familiarly into the parlor where Arabella was practising. There
were two ladies, her intimate friends, and one gentleman present.
Neither Arabella nor the count noticed the entrance of Mr. Lloyd, and
he stood for several minutes regarding them. Arabella was playing with
enthusiasm; it was evident she was charmed with her own performance;
her noble teacher sat beside her, the music-book open in his hand, his
small keen eyes cast partly upward in admiration; but, as his oblique
glance could rest on the face of his fair pupil, it was not certain
whether her beauty or her music caused his raptures.
"Martin!" said Mr. Lloyd, in a deep, commanding tone.
The count started to his feet, every nerve agitated as though he had
received a shock from a galvanic battery.
"Jean Martin, how came you here?" continued Mr. Lloyd, sternly.
"I--I am not here--that is, you mistake--I am the Count de Verger."
Mr. Lloyd walked closely up to the impostor.
"Villain, let me hear no more of your falsehoods! Away, instantly, or
you shall answer for your crimes."
The accomplished nobleman obeyed the order promptly as it was given,
bolting from the apartment without the ceremony of a single bow. There
was blank silence for a moment; then Arabella indignantly inquired the
reason of such a proceeding in her father's house, and without her
father's knowledge.
"Pardon me, Miss Markley," said Arthur; "I am aware my conduct requires
explanation. That fellow was my valet. I hired him in Paris: shrewd,
ingenious, and attentive, he won my confidence, and for many months
I treated him more like a friend than servant. He accompanied me to
Germany, and there found means to rob me of a considerable sum of
money, besides a casket of jewelry I had in my charge, belonging to a
banker of Paris, and for which I was responsible. Martin escaped, and I
had no idea of ever meeting him again, till your eloquent description
of the Count de Verger awakened my suspicions. I came here therefore
unceremoniously, for which I again beg pardon; but trust you and your
father will not regret the impostor is detected and exposed."
"You must be mistaken, Mr. Lloyd. This gentleman is a real count; I
have seen his coat of arms, and seals, and rings."
Just then Mr. Markley entered, the whole affair was detailed, and
Mr. Lloyd produced an order, which had been granted by the Austrian
government, for the apprehension of Jean Martin for the robbery; the
paper contained a particular description of his person, and all, except
Arabella, were convinced of the identity of the _ci-devant_ valet and
the elegant Count de Verger.
"It is impossible a person so exquisitely skilled in music and every
accomplishment can be of base extraction and character," sighed
Arabella.
"You fancied him noble, and invested him with all rare qualities. It is
true, he has some skill in music; but he played vastly better for his
title. Should you hear him as Martin"----
The lady turned her head scornfully, taking care, at the same time, to
wreath her features in a very sweet smile--the scorn was intended for
Martin, the smile for Mr. Lloyd; and then she requested the latter to
tell her all the particulars, saying that she felt under the greatest
obligations for the care he had shown to detect an imposition which she
could never have suspected, and in which the whole town participated.
Arthur might have complied with her request; he might even have
forgiven her taking lessons of his valet and honoring him as a
nobleman, for he was aware that other ladies had been deceived by
Martin, and that his own sex had favored the impostor because he
pretended to a title; but, as she extended her hand in token of amity,
his eye caught a brilliant on her finger; he knew it was one of the
banker's jewels.
"That was the gift of Martin," said he.
"Of the Count de Verger," she stammered.
Arthur bade her good-morning.
The next day he left Boston, but not before he had learned that the
count had decamped, leaving his landlord's bill and sundry loans of
money from honorable men undischarged.
"It will teach me wisdom, I hope," said one gentleman. "I will never
again lend money to the count when I would not trust it to the man."
Arthur Lloyd was blamed by some prudent people for the abruptness of
his proceedings in the affair, as it severely wounded the feelings of
the Markleys. Arabella did not recover from this shock till after she
learned that Mr. Lloyd had wedded the pretty Ellen Gray, when she sent
him a congratulating letter, which ended their correspondence.
I wish I could describe the course Arthur Lloyd is now pursuing without
incurring the charge of personality. There are so few like him that
the picture would be instantly recognized. But I can repeat two of his
favorite maxims.
The first, "We must educate our sons to consider the title of
_Republican_ a prouder boast than the highest order of nobility that
implies subjection, and requires homage to a mortal."
Second, "We must train our daughters to respect talent in a man more
than money, and a character for usefulness more than a showy exterior;
to consider their countrymen superior to the men of every other nation;
and, above all things, never to receive the present of a ring, except
from a near relative or an accepted lover."
BABYLON, NINEVEH, AND MR. LAYARD.
[Illustration: FALLEN ROCK-SCULPTURES AT BAVIAN.]