CONTRASTS.
THE history of this young man, as far as we have traced it, and much
further beyond this point it is not our intention to go, exhibits
the result of mere ambition, acting upon a mind unsustained by sound
principle. To rise in the world was the end with him. Thousands start
with that end, and rise to a certain height; but rarely attain a
distinguished position, for the reason that they are met at almost
every step with temptations to deviate more or less from strict
rectitude, in order to rise faster than would otherwise be the case,
and thus invariably defeat the object they have in view. There is in
the public mind a certain degree of virtue, which will not tolerate
known wrong actions. In fact, the public weal depends upon integrity
in the community, and every man, therefore, instinctively condemns all
departures from just principles in others, because he feels that such
acts done to him would be wrong.
On the other hand, a virtuous man is esteemed by all, both good and
bad, for all feel that their interests are safe in his hands. If he
possess equal ability to serve the community with another man in whose
principles no faith is had, he will, as a natural consequence, rise
above that man. And there is no danger of his falling back from any
eminence he may gain; because it is a real elevation from the force of
internal principles acting upon his external conduct, and the force
that elevated him is all-potent to sustain him in his elevation.
To rise truly in the world, is to rise internally as well as
externally. If a man, while he is rising into eminence in any pursuit,
be really growing corrupt and base—be admitting evil counsellors into
his mind and acting from their suggestions—he is not truly rising, but
is actually in the descending scale, and will, either in this life or
the next, find his right position. No man is truly elevated who is not
truly good. He may occupy an imaginary height; he may think himself
great, and men who do not know what is really in him, may call him
great; but true greatness is inseparable from that benevolence which
regards the common good.
While Dunbar was fixing his mind upon the attainment of wealth and
professional distinctions as ends, Doctor Hudson was seeking with
untiring industry to perfect his knowledge of medical science by
reading, observation, and experiment; not so much as the means of
rising in the world as from a desire to increase his skill and gain a
wider circle of influence. It would not do to say that he was free from
selfish ends; no man is free from them. But he understood that to be
governed by selfish considerations was wrong, and he never permitted
himself, when he was conscious that such considerations were prominent
in his mind, to act from them. Thus instead of coming more and more
under the dominion of purblind selfishness, he was daily rising
superior to its enticements. He was truly rising in the world—rising in
intelligence and usefulness, and rising above the corrupt and debasing
tendencies of our evil nature. And his family rose with him. No one was
depressed that he might be elevated; no one pushed aside that his way
might be clear.
Only three times did Lawrence Dunbar and Doctor Hudson meet, after
they had started on their race for eminence. Once in the office of the
student, as already related. The second time they met was a few weeks
after the marriage of Dunbar with the heiress.
A large party was given by a wealthy family, in which Hudson had
rendered eminent services in his profession. The doctor was highly
esteemed by every member of this family, who knew his worth as a
physician and as a man, and sought every opportunity to express the
estimation in which they held him. His name and that of his lovely wife
were among the first on the list, and the names of Dunbar and his wife
among the last. Dunbar was invited for his wife's sake, who happened
to be known to some members of the family. Doctor Baldwin and his lady
were also in the number of guests.
Not long after Doctor Hudson and his wife had entered, they saw Dunbar
come into the parlors with a lady richly dressed upon his arm, and walk
in some state amid the gay company.
"Can that be his wife?" remarked Mrs. Hudson, when she at last got a
fair view of the lady's face.
"I presume it is," replied her husband. "Did you ever see a more
repulsive countenance?"
"One less prepossessing is rarely met," returned Mrs. Hudson, still
looking intently into the lady's face.
"But she has wealth, and is well connected, as the phrase is. These, no
doubt, cover a multitude of defects."
"They do not seem to have covered them in this case," said Mrs. Hudson,
with a quiet smile, as she drew her arm closer within that of her
husband. "At least they are very apparent this evening."
"She has her good points, no doubt," remarked the doctor. "All persons
have. We may not always determine the whole character from the face.
Very good people sometimes have very homely countenances."
"Yes; that is true," said Mrs. Hudson. "But no woman whose heart was
unselfish—no woman with a gentle, loving spirit—ever had a face like
that."
It took an hour at least for the different individuals of the company
to get familiar with the various parties present, and to know what
strangers and what acquaintances were there. Ere this, Dunbar had
noticed, with some surprise and without any particular increase of
pleasure, that Doctor Hudson and his wife and sister were among the
guests. He had never heard of the marriage of Ella with Doctor Baldwin,
whose social standing he well knew.
"What young lady is that?" he asked of a friend, affecting not to know
who Ella was.
"The charming woman on Doctor Baldwin's arm?"
"I mean the lady on the doctor's arm."
"That's his wife."
"Oh, no; you are in error. That cannot be his wife If I mistake not,
she is the daughter of old Hudson, the watchmaker. But how she found
admission here, passes my comprehension."
"You are right as to her being the daughter of Hudson," replied the
friend.
"Then she is not the wife of Doctor Baldwin."
"Yes, she is his wife; and he is as proud of her as if she were a
queen; and, from all I can learn, justly so. She is a charming woman.
I have met her several times during the year in large companies, and
find that she is a favorite with all who know her. The doctor has shown
himself to be a man of good taste."
"Incredible," returned Dunbar. "I remember Ella Hudson well enough, but
never saw in her anything so charming."
"I don't know about what she was," said the friend; "but I do
know, that she is at this present time as lovely, intelligent, and
accomplished a woman as there is in this room, and as general a
favorite. See! half a dozen gentlemen, whose taste even you will not
dispute, have gathered around her and her husband, and you may observe
that more than half their attention is directed to her."
"What is thought of Dr. Hudson's lady?" asked Dunbar. "I presume you
know her."
"Oh yes. And if she were my sister, I could not more highly esteem her.
She is not so generally attractive as Mrs. Baldwin; but all who come
near to her are won by the sweetness of her character, and charmed by
the half-retiring grace of her manner. She is one in a thousand, and is
so considered by all who know her. As for her husband, I consider him
one of the most fortunate of men in having secured so loving and lovely
a companion for his journey through life."
The eyes of Dunbar turned, involuntarily, towards that part of the
room where his wife sat, alone. One glance was sufficient. His gaze
was quickly withdrawn. A sigh, but half repressed, struggled up from
his bosom, and he turned away from the individual with whom he was
conversing. He had already heard too much. What his thoughts were, it
would be hard to tell. As he moved across the room, he encountered Dr.
Hudson and his wife. The two men looked at each other for an instant,
but did not speak. They had not met before for years.
"If he has risen above his old condition," said Mrs. Hudson, leaning,
towards her husband, "he has certainly not risen into happiness."
"No man does, who acts from an utter disregard of others," replied the
doctor. "Dunbar started in life with the avowed determination to rise;
and to rise on the most thorough selfish principles. What his exact
elevation, as regards external things, may be, I do not know; but I
have heard it whispered that he has at least been sadly disappointed in
the amount of his wife's fortune. As to her character and disposition,
I presume they were scarcely taken into the account; although he will,
without doubt, find them of more serious importance than he at first
imagined."
It seemed to Dunbar that he could turn no way during that unhappy
evening without seeing either the wife or sister of Doctor Hudson; and
he never saw them without an involuntary assent to their loveliness as
contrasted with the woman to whom he had united himself for life. They
were led to the dance by men of character, standing, and education, and
were ever receiving attentions which any woman present would have felt
to be complimentary in a high degree, while, with all her wealth and
high connexions, his wife sat neglected, except by those who felt for
her some personal interest.
Dunbar likewise observed that Doctor Hudson was noticed by almost
every one; and, for the first time, learned that he had recently been
elevated to the chair of anatomy and surgery in one of the medical
schools. There was something positive about this—a real elevation that
could not well be called in question—while he perceived that his own
position was as yet equivocal, and that, think as highly of himself as
he might, he could not force others to do honor to his greatness.
The young attorney went home that night with feelings of humiliation
deeper than he had ever known.