I would not give the impression that, at this time, I felt hurt at the
coldness and reserve of Ernest, as exhibited in society. I was fearful
of displeasing him by showing too much pleasure in what did not appear
to interest him; but when the door was closed on the departing guest and
he exclaimed,--
"Thank heaven! we are once more alone!"
I could not help echoing the sentiment which brought us so close to each
other, and rejoiced with him that formality and restraint no longer
interfered with the freedom of love and the joys of home. He never
appeared so illumined with intellect, so glowing with feeling, as in
moments like these; and I was flattered that a mind so brilliant, and a
heart so warm, reserved their brightness and their warmth for me. If he
was happy with me, and me only, how supremely blest should I be, with a
companion so intellectual and fascinating! If Edith were but near, so
that I could say to her occasionally, "How happy I am!" if Mrs. Linwood
were with me to know that nothing had yet arisen to disturb the heaven
of our wedded happiness; if excellent Dr. Harlowe could only call in
once in a while, with his pleasant words and genial smiles; or kindly
feeling, awkward Mr. Regulus, I should not have a wish ungratified.
It is true I sometimes wished I had something to do, but we had
supernumerary servants, and if I found any employment it must have been
similar to that of Jack the bean-boy, who poured his beans on the floor
and then picked them up again. I was fond of sewing. But the wardrobe of
a young bride is generally too well supplied; at least mine was, to
admit of much exercise with the needle. I was passionately fond of
reading, and of hearing Ernest read; and many an hour every day was
devoted to books. But the mind, like the body, can digest only a certain
quantity of food, and is oppressed by an excessive portion.
Had Ernest welcomed society, our superb parlor would have been thronged
with nightly guests; but he put up bars of ceremony against such
intrusion; polished silver they were, it is true, but they were felt to
be heavy and strong. He never visited himself, that is, socially. He
paid formal calls, as he would an inevitable tax, rejoicing when the
wearisome task was over; out beyond the limits of ceremony he could not
be persuaded to pass.
Gradually our evening visitors became few,--the cold season advanced,
the fountain ceased to play in the grotto, and the beautiful flowers
were inclosed in the green-house.
Our rooms were warmed by furnaces below, which diffused a summer
temperature through the house. In mine, the heat came up through an
exquisite Etruscan vase, covered with flowers, which seemed to emit odor
as well as warmth, and threw the illusion of spring over the dullness
and gloom of winter. But I missed the glowing hearth of Mrs. Linwood,
the brightness and heartiness of her winter fireside.
I never shall forget how I started with horror, when I was conscious of
a feeling of _ennui_, even in the presence of Ernest. It was not
possible I should be weary of the joys of heaven, if I were capable of
sighing in my own Eden bower. I tried to banish the impression; it
WOULD return, and with it self-reproach and shame.
If Ernest had not been lifted by wealth above the necessity of exertion;
had he been obliged to exercise the talents with which he was so
liberally endowed for his own support and the benefit of mankind; had he
some profession which compelled him to mingle in the world, till the too
exquisite edge of his sensibilities were blunted by contact with firmer,
rougher natures, what a blessing it would have been! With what pride
would I have seen him go forth to his daily duties, sure that he was
imparting and receiving good. With what rapture would I have welcomed
his returning footstep!
Oh! had he been a _poor_ man, he would have been a _great_ man. He was
not obliged to toil, either physically or mentally; and indolence is
born of luxury, and morbid sensibility luxuriates in the lap of
indolence. Forms of beauty and grandeur wait in the marble quarry for
the hand of genius and skill. Ingots of gold sleep in the mine, till the
explorer fathoms its depths and brings to light the hidden treasures.
Labor is the slave of the lamp of life, who alone keeps its flame from
waxing dim. When a child, I looked upon poverty as man's greatest curse;
but I now thought differently. To feel that every wish is gratified,
every want supplied, is almost as dreary as to indulge the wish, and
experience the want, without the means of satisfying the cravings of one
or the urgency of the other.
Had Ernest been a poor man, he would not have had time to think
unceasingly of me. His mind would have been occupied with sterner
thoughts and more exalted cares. But rich as he was, I longed to see him
live for something nobler than personal enjoyment, to know that he
possessed a higher aim than love for me. I did not feel worthy to fill
the capacities of that noble heart. I wanted him to love me less, that I
might have something more to desire.
"Of what are you thinking so deeply, sweet wife?" he asked, when I had
been unconsciously indulging in a long, deep reverie. "What great
subject knits so severely that fair young brow?" he repeated, sitting by
me, and taking my hand in his.
I blushed, for my thoughts were making bold excursions.
"I was thinking," I answered, looking bravely in his face, "what a
blessed thing it must be to do good, to have the will as well as the
power to bless mankind."
"Tell me what scheme of benevolence my little philanthropist is forming.
What mighty engine would she set in motion to benefit her species?"
"I was thinking how happy a person must feel, who was able to establish
an asylum for the blind or the insane, a hospital for the sick, or a
home for the orphan. I was thinking how delightful it would be to go out
into the byways of poverty, the abodes of sickness and want, and bid
their inmates follow me, where comfort and ease and plenty awaited them.
I was thinking, if I were a man, how I would love to be called the
friend and benefactor of mankind; but, being a woman, how proud and
happy I should be to follow in the footsteps of such a good and glorious
being, and hear the blessings bestowed upon his name."
I spoke with earnestness, and my cheeks glowed with enthusiasm. I felt
the clasp of his hand tighten as he drew me closer to his side.
"You have been thinking," he said, in his peculiarly grave, melodious
accents, "that I am leading a self-indulging, too luxurious life?"
"Not you--not you alone, dearest Ernest; but both of us," I cried,
feeling a righteous boldness, I did not dream that I possessed. "Do not
the purple and the fine linen of luxury enervate the limbs which they
clothe? Is there no starving Lazarus, who may rebuke us hereafter for
the sumptuous fare over which we have revelled? I know how generous, how
compassionate you are; how ready you are to relieve the sufferings
brought before your eye; but how little we witness here! how few
opportunities we have of doing good! Ought they not to be sought? May
they not be found everywhere in this great thoroughfare of humanity?"
"You shall find my purse as deep as your charities, my lovely
monitress," he answered, while his countenance beamed with approbation.
"My bounty as boundless as your desires. But, in a great city like this,
it is difficult to distinguish between willing degradation and
meritorious poverty. You could not go into the squalid dens of want and
sin, without soiling the whiteness of your spirit, by familiarity with
scenes which I would not have you conscious of passing in the world.
There are those who go about as missionaries of good among the lowest
dregs of the populace, whom you can employ as agents for your bounty.
There are benevolent associations, through which your charities can flow
in full and refreshing streams. Remember, I place no limits to your
generosities. As to your magnificent plans of establishing asylums and
public institutions for the lame, the halt, and the blind, perhaps my
single means might not be able to accomplish them,--delightful as it
would be to have an angel following in my footsteps, and binding up the
wounds of suffering humanity."
He smiled with radiant good-humor at my Quixotic schemes. Then he told
me, that since he had been in the city he had given thousands to the
charitable associations which spread in great lifegiving veins through
every part of the metropolis.
"You think I am living in vain, my Gabriella," he said, rising and
walking the length of the splendid apartment and again returning,
"because I do not have my allotted daily task to perform; because I do
not go forth, like the lawyer, with a green bag under my arm; like the
minister, with a sermon in my pocket; or the doctor, with powders and
pills. If necessity imposed such tasks on me, I suppose I should perform
them with as good a grace as the rest; but surely it would ill become me
to enter the lists with my needier brethren, and take the bread from
their desiring lips. Every profession is crowded. Even woman is pressing
into the throng, and claiming precedence of man, in the great struggle
of life. It seems to me, that it is the duty of those on whom fortune
has lavished her gifts, to step aside and give room to others, who are
less liberally endowed. We _may_ live in luxury; but by so doing, our
wealth is scattered among the multitude, the useful arts are encouraged,
and much is done for the establishment of that golden mean, which reason
and philosophy have so long labored to secure."
As he thus spoke calmly, yet energetically, moving back and forth under
the arches of glittering azure, his pale, transparent complexion lighted
up glowingly. My eyes followed him with exulting affection. I wondered
at the presumption of which I had been guilty. He had been doing good in
secret, while I imagined him forgetful of the sacred legacy, left by
Christ to the rich. I had wronged him in thought, and I told him so.
"You asked me of what I was thinking," I said, "and you draw my thoughts
from me as by magic. I have not told you all. _I_ do not sigh for other
society; but I fear you will become weary of mine."
"Do we ever weary of moonlight, or the sweet, fresh air of heaven? No,
Gabriella; remain just as you are, ingenuous, confiding, and true, and I
desire no other companionship. You so entirely fill my heart, there is
no room for more. You never have had, never will have a rival. You have
a power over me, such as woman seldom, exercises over man. Love, with
most men, is the pastime and gladdener of life; with me it is life
itself. A fearful responsibility is resting on you, my own, dear bride;
but do not tremble. I do not think it is possible for you to deceive me,
for you are truth itself. I begin to think you have changed my nature,
and inspired me with trust and confidence in all mankind."
I did not make any professions, any promises, in answer to his avowal;
but if ever a fervent prayer rose from the human heart, it ascended from
mine, that I might prove worthy of this trust, that I might preserve it
unblemished, with a constant reference to the eye that cannot be
deceived, and the judgment that cannot err.