"He hasn't a married look, has he?"
"You are talking about me," said Remington, waking up. "I felt it
mesmerically. And, to give you a good opportunity, I will walk a mile or
two. Give me a good character, Lewis. Hold up, driver!"
Springing down, he went on, laughing, before us, now and then calling
back to ask if we were nearly through?
"He has not the 'subdued domestic smile upon his features mild', that
marks the man who has a wife at home," said I.
"No. He is a man, however, born under a lucky star, and his cup filled
with good-fortune to the brim. His self-lordship has been to him no
heritage of woe, thus far."
"A certain happiness, but necessarily of a poor quality, comes from
being able to gratify our wishes. If he has no more, it is poor enough."
"Do you mean that pleasure must be an outgrowth of pain to be properly
appreciated?" said Mr. Lewis.
"Somewhat,--mostly," said the minister; "since the insensibility that
protects one from pain prevents also delicate picture. I think, indeed,
a rational being must suffer in order to enjoy, after infancy."
"His eyes don't look as if they had been in training of any sort," said
I, without knowing what my words implied, till I saw the harsh
expression on Mr. Lewis's face.'
"I mean that they have a sort of undisciplined expression, as if he had
never been tamed by suffering or sorrow of any sort," said I.
"That sadness is the true human look," said the minister, "the look that
redeems us from the mere animal expression of enjoyment. It is the
stamp God puts on those He loves. He chastens them; after that, they are
no more servants, but sons of the house."
I saw by Mr. Lewis's eyes that he understood and felt this. Also, that
from his nature he bought his enjoyments every step of the way of life.
How differently his cousin laid hold on the cornucopia of enjoyment, and
covered himself with bountiful beauty, drinking in at every sense
pleasure! The former, as could be seen too, held his title to happiness
by the most uncertain tenure; the nervous quiver betraying, and the
sensitive blood witnessing, how keenly he felt and how dearly he paid
for every passing pleasure. I remember, as I saw his purple, thrilling
face, that I hoped his home-life was happy, feeling that to such a man
it must be everything. Yet I was sure, from what he did not say, with
eye or lips, that he had not learned religious trust. Still, he did not
listen to the mere minister, but to the friend; and there sprang up
between the two the corresponding interest and respect belonging to
natures kindred in depth and sensibility, though of widely differing
experience. In after-years, he who had already attained was able
frequently to hold out a helping hand to his younger brother; but now,
only a smile and a look told much. This acquaintance of the soul is very
fascinating. In the two or three steps we take together, with cognizance
and measure of each other, what a long path opens before us of alternate
shade and sunshine, and how imagination borders every step of the way
with richest heart-blossoms! In friendship, all is glowing and
enriching. As it has not the depth of love, it neither anticipates nor
requires sacrifice. We do not think of doing or suffering for a friend;
but the friend ministers to our weakness, and exalts our strength. He
sympathizes gently with our self-love, he magnifies every excellence. He
is perpetually charmed, alike with the novelty and the similarity of our
experience, and unwearied in comparing thoughts and balancing opinions.
All, and more, that he gives us, he receives; and so an incipient
friendship is one of the most intoxicating delights of life. What long
leaps in acquaintance we took during our first hour, and while Mr.
Remington still walked up-hill before us!
"You will probably have an opportunity to see and judge for yourselves
of Mr. Remington, as we are together a great deal, and he is a cousin of
Mrs. Lewis's. This will be better than for me to attempt a description,
I think, and, on the whole, more satisfactory. He annoys me, and offends
me frequently; and then I am not just to him, of course. But he is a
fine fellow, honorable and agreeable; and with a love of natural science
that leads him, for the time, like a dog. Just now, he is wild with
floriculture. Last year, it was geology. You will see."
And then, as if he feared to trust himself with his cousin's character,
or that it was a distasteful subject for some reason, he turned to the
minister, and began talking about Cherry Mountain and the scenery in
Coös.