ELYSIUM
It was a bright and sunny autumn day. We were a very happy party.
Estella was disguised with gold spectacles, a black wig and a veil,
and she looked like some middle-aged school-teacher out for a
holiday. We took the electric motor to a station one mile and a half
from Mr. Jansen's, and walked the rest of the way. The air was pure
and sweet and light; it seemed to be breathed right out of heaven.
The breezes touched us and dallied with us and delighted us, like
ministering angels. The whole panoply of nature was magnificent; the
soft-hued, grassy fields; the embowered trees; the feeding cattle;
the children playing around the houses;--
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"Clowns cracking jokes, and lasses with sly eyes,
And the smile settling on their sun-flecked cheeks
Like noon upon the mellow apricot."
My soul rose upon wings and swam in the ether like a swallow; and I
thanked God that he had given us this majestic, this beautiful, this
surpassing world, and had placed within us the delicate sensibility
and capability to enjoy it. In the presence of such things
death--annihilation--seemed to me impossible, and I exclaimed aloud:
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"Hast thou not heard
That thine existence, here on earth, is but
The dark and narrow section of a life
Which was with God, long ere the sun was lit,
And shall be yet, when all the bold, bright stars
Are dark as death-dust?"
And oh, what a contrast was all this to the clouded world we had left
behind us, in yonder close-packed city, with its poverty, its misery,
its sin, its injustice, its scramble for gold, its dark hates and
terrible plots. But, I said to myself, while God permits man to wreck
himself, he denies him the power to destroy the world. The grass
covers the graves; the flowers grow in the furrows of the cannon
balls; the graceful foliage festoons with blossoms the ruins of the
prison and the torture-chamber; and the corn springs alike under the
foot of the helot or the yeoman. And I said to myself that, even
though civilization should commit suicide, the earth would still
remain--and with it some remnant of mankind; and out of the
uniformity of universal misery a race might again arise worthy of the
splendid heritage God has bestowed upon us.
Mr. Jansen had closed up his forge in honor of our visit, and had
donned a new broadcloth suit, in which he seemed as comfortable as a
whale in an overcoat. Christina ran out to meet us, bright and
handsome, all in white, with roses in her curly hair. The sweet-faced
old lady took her to her arms, and called her "my daughter," and
kissed her, and expressed her pleasure that her son was about to
marry so good and noble a girl. Mrs. Jansen held back modestly at
first, a little afraid of "the great folks," but she was brought
forward by Christina, and introduced to us all. And then we had to
make the acquaintance of the whole flock of blue-eyed, curly-haired,
rosy-cheeked little ones, gay in white dresses and bright ribbons.
Even Master Ole forgot, for a time, his enrapturing hammer and nails,
and stood, with eyes like saucers, contemplating the irruption of
outside barbarians. We went into the house, and there, with many a
laugh and jest, the spectacled school-teacher was transformed into my
own bright and happy Estella. The two girls flowed into one another,
by natural affinity, like a couple of drops of quicksilver; each
recognized the transparent soul in the other, and in a moment they
were friends for life.
We were a jolly party. Care flew far away from us, and many a laugh
and jest resounded.
"There is one thing, Christina," said Max, "that I cannot comprehend,
and of which I demand an explanation. Your name is 'Christina
Jansen,' and yet you appeared in public by the name of 'Christina
Carlson.' Now I refuse to marry you until this thing is explained;
for I may be arrested and charged with bigamy for marrying two women
at once! I am willing to wed 'Christina Jansen'--but what am I to do
with 'Christina Carlson'? I could be "happy with either were t'other
dear charmer away.'"
Christina laughed and blushed and said:
"If you do not behave yourself you shall not have either of the
Christinas. But I will tell you, my dear friend, how that happened.
You must know that in our Sweden, especially in the northern part of
it, where father and mother came from, we are a very primitive
people--far 'behind the age,' you will say. And there we have no
family names, like Brown or Jones or Smith; but each man is simply
the son of his father, and he takes his father's first name. Thus if
'Peter' has a son and he is christened 'Ole,' then he is 'Ole
Peterson,' or Ole the son of Peter; and if his son is called 'John,'
then he is 'John Oleson.' I think, from what I have read in the books
you gave me, Frank, that the same practice prevailed, centuries ago,
in England, and that is how all those English names, such as Johnson,
Jackson, Williamson, etc., came about. But the females of the family,
in Sweden, are called 'daughters' or 'dotters;' and hence, by the
custom of my race, I am 'Christina Carl's Dotter.' And when Mr.
Bingham asked me my name to print on his play bills, that is what I
answered him; but he said 'Christina Carl's Dotter' was no name at
all. It would never do; and so he called me 'Christina Carlson.'
There you have the explanation of the whole matter."
"I declare," said Frank, "this thing grows worse and worse! Why,
there are three of you. I shall have to wed not only 'Christina
Jansen,' and 'Christina Carlson,' but 'Christina Carl's Dotter.' Why,
that would be not only bigamy, but _trigamy!_"
And then Estella came to the rescue, and said that she felt sure that
Max would be glad to have her even if there were a dozen of her.
And Frank, who had become riotous, said to me:
"You see, old fellow, you are about to marry a girl with a pedigree,
and I another without one."
"No," said Christina, "I deny that charge; with us the very name we
bear declares the pedigree. I am 'Christina Carl's Dotter,' and
'Carl' was the son of 'John,' who was the son of 'Frederick,' who was
the son of 'Christian;' and so on for a hundred generations. I have a
long pedigree; and I am very proud of it; and, what is more, they
were all good, honest, virtuous people." And she heightened up a bit.
And then Frank kissed her before us all, and she boxed his ears, and
then dinner was announced.
And what a pleasant dinner it was: the vegetables, crisp and fresh,
were from their own garden; and the butter and milk and cream and
schmearkase from their own dairy; and the fruit from their own trees;
and the mother told us that the pudding was of Christina's own
making; and thereupon Frank ate more of it than was good for him; and
everything was so neat and bright, and everybody so happy; and Frank
vowed that there never was before such luscious, golden butter; and
Mrs. Jansen told us that that was the way they made it in Sweden, and
she proceeded to explain the whole process. The only unhappy person
at the table, it seemed to me, was poor Carl, and he had a wretched
premonition that he was certainly going to drop some of the food on
that brand-new broadcloth suit of his. I feel confident that when we
took our departure he hurried to take off that overwhelming grandeur,
with very much the feeling with which the dying saint shuffles off
the mortal coil, and soars to heaven.
But then, in the midst of it all, there came across me the dreadful
thought of what was to burst upon the world in a few days; and I
could have groaned aloud in anguish of spirit. I felt we were like
silly sheep gamboling on the edge of the volcano. But why not? We had
not brought the world to this pass. Why should we not enjoy the
sunshine, and that glorious light, brighter than all sunshine--the
love of woman? For God alone, who made woman--the true woman--knows
the infinite capacities for good which he has inclosed within her
soul. And I don't believe one bit of that orthodox story. I think Eve
ate the apple to obtain knowledge, and Adam devoured the core because
he was hungry.
And these thoughts, of course, were suggested by my looking at
Estella. She and Christina were in a profound conference; the two
shades of golden hair mingling curiously as they whispered to each
other, and blushed and laughed. And then Estella came over to me, and
smiled and blushed again, and whispered: "Christina is delighted with
the plan."
And then I said to Max, in a dignified, solemn way:
'My dear Max, or Frank, or Arthur, or whatever thy name may be--and
'if thou hast no other name to call thee by I will call thee
devil'--I have observed, with great regret, that thou art very much
afraid of standing up to-morrow and encountering in wedlock's
ceremony the battery of bright eyes of the three Christinas. Now I
realize that a friend should not only 'bear a friend's infirmities,'
but that he should stand by him in the hour of danger; and so
to-morrow, 'when fear comes down upon you like a house,' Estella and
I have concluded to stand with you, in the imminent deadly breach,
and share your fate; and if, when you get through, there are any of
the Christinas left, I will--with Estella's permission--even marry
them myself 'For I am determined that such good material shall not go
to waste.'
There was a general rejoicing, and Max embraced me; and then he
hugged Christina; and then I took advantage of the excuse--I was very
happy in finding such excuses--to do likewise by my stately beauty;
and then there was handshaking by the old folks all around, and
kisses from the little folks.
Not long afterward there was much whispering and laughing between
Christina and Estella; they were in the garden; they seemed to be
reading some paper, which they held between them. And then that
scamp, Max, crept quietly behind them, and, reaching over, snatched
the paper out of their hands. And then Estella looked disturbed, and
glanced at me and blushed; and Max began to dance and laugh, and
cried out, "Ho! ho! we have a poet in the family!" And then I
realized that some verses, which I had given Estella the day before,
had fallen into the hands of that mocker. I would not give much for a
man who does not grow poetical when he is making love. It is to man
what song is to the bird. But to have one's weaknesses exposed--that
is another matter! And so I ran after Max; but in vain. He climbed
into a tree, and then began to recite my love poetry:
"Listen to this," he cried; "here are fourteen verses; each one
begins and ends with the word _'thee.'_ Here's a sample:
"'All thought, all fear, all grief, all earth, all air,
Forgot shall be;
Knit unto each, to each kith, kind and kin,--
Life, like these rhyming verses, shall begin
And end in--_thee!_'
"And here," he cried, "is another long poem. Phœbus! what a
name--_'Artesian Waters!'_
Here Christina, Estella and I pelted the rogue with apples.
"I know why they are called 'Artesian Waters,'" he cried; "it is
because it took a great _bore_ to produce them. Hal ha! But listen to
it:
"'There is a depth at which perpetual springs
Fresh water, in all lands:
The which once reached, the buried torrent flings
Its treasures o'er the sands.'
"Ouch!" he cried, "that one hit me on the nose: I mean the apple, not
the verse.
"'One knows not how, beneath the dark, deep crust,
The clear flood there has come:
One knows not why, amid eternal dust,
Slumbers that sea of foam.'
"Plain enough," he cried, dodging the apples; "the attraction of
gravitation did the business for it.
"'Dark-buried, sepulchred, entombed and deep,
Away from mortal ken,
It lies, till, summoned from its silent sleep,
It leaps to light again.'
"Very good," he said, "and now here comes the application, the moral
of the poem.
"'So shall we find no intellect so dull,
No soul so cold to move,
No heart of self or sinfulness so full,
But still hath power to love.'
"Of course," he said; "he knows how it is himself; the poet fills the
bill exactly.
'It lives immortal, universal all,
The tenant of each breast;
Locked in the silence of unbroken thrall,
And deep and pulseless rest;
Till, at a touch, with burst of power and pride,
Its swollen torrents roll,
Dash all the trappings of the mind aside,
And ride above the soul.'
"Hurrah!" he cried, "that's splendid! But here's some more: _'To
Estella.'_"
But I could stand no more, and so began to climb the tree. It was an
apple-tree, and not a very big one at that, and Max was forced to
retreat out upon a limb, and then drop to the ground. But the young
ladies were too quick for him; they pounced upon him as he fell; and
very soon my precious verses were hidden in Estella's bosom, whence,
in a burst of confidence and pride, they had been taken to exhibit to
Christina.
"Yes," said Estella, "it was nothing but mean jealousy, because he
could not write such beautiful poetry to Christina." "Exactly," said
Christina, "and I think I will refuse to marry him until he produces
some verses equally fine."
"Before I would write such poetry as that," said Max, "I would go and
hang myself."
"No man ought to be allowed to marry," said Estella, "until he has
written a poem."
"If you drive Max to that," I said, "other people will hang
themselves rather than hear his verses."
And thus, with laugh and jest and badinage, the glorious hours passed
away.
It was growing late; but we could not go until we had seen the cows
milked, for that was a great event in the household; and "Bossy"
especially was a wonderful cow. Never before in the world had there
been such a cow as "Bossy." The children had tied some ribbons to her
horns, and little Ole was astride of her broad back, his chubby legs
pointing directly to the horizon, and the rest of the juveniles
danced around her; while the gentle and patient animal stood chewing
her cud, with a profound look upon her peaceful face, much like that
of a chief-justice considering "the rule in Shelley's case," or some
other equally solemn and momentous subject.
And I could not help but think how kindly we should feel toward these
good, serviceable ministers to man; for I remembered how many
millions of our race had been nurtured through childhood and maturity
upon their generous largess. I could see, in my imagination, the
great bovine procession, lowing and moving, with their bleating
calves trotting by their side, stretching away backward, farther and
farther, through all the historic period; through all the conquests
and bloody earth-staining battles, and all the sin and suffering of
the race; and far beyond, even into the dim, pre-historic age, when
the Aryan ancestors of all the European nations dwelt together under
the same tents, and the blond-haired maidens took their name of
"daughters" (the very word we now use) from their function of
milkmaidens. And it seemed to me that we should love a creature so
intimately blended with the history of our race, and which had done
so much, indirectly, to give us the foundation on which to build
civilization.
But we must away; and Carl, glad to do something in scenes in which
he was not much fitted to shine, drove us to the station in his open
spring wagon; Estella, once more the elderly, spectacled maiden, by
my side; and the sunny little Christina beside Max's mother--going to
the station to see us off; while that gentleman, on the front seat,
talked learnedly with Carl about the pedigree of the famous horse
"Lightning," which had just trotted its mile in less than two minutes.
And I thought, as I looked at Carl, how little it takes to make a
happy household; and what a beautiful thing the human race is under
favorable circumstances; and what a wicked and cruel and utterly
abominable thing is the man who could oppress it, and drive it into
the filth of sin and shame.
I will not trouble you, my dear brother, by giving you a detailed
account of the double marriage the next day. The same person married
us both--a Scandinavian preacher, a friend of the Jansen family. I
was not very particular who tied the knot and signed the bill of sale
of Estella, provided I was sure the title was good. But I do think
that the union of man and wife should be something more than a mere
civil contract. Marriage is not a partnership to sell dry
goods--(sometimes, it is true, it is principally an obligation to buy
them)--or to practice medicine or law together; it is, or should be,
an intimate blending of two souls, and natures, and lives; and where
the marriage is happy and perfect there is, undoubtedly, a
growing-together, not only of spirit and character, but even in the
physical appearance of man and wife. Now as these two souls came--we
concede--out of heaven, it seems to me that the ceremony which thus
destroys their individuality, and blends them into one, should have
some touch and color of heaven in it also.
It was a very happy day.
As I look upon it now it seems to me like one of those bright, wide
rays of glorious light which we have sometimes seen bursting through
a rift in the clouds, from the setting sun, and illuminating, for a
brief space of time, the black, perturbed and convulsed sky. One of
our poets has compared it to--
"A dead soldier's sword athwart his pall."
But it faded away, and the storm came down, at last, heavy and dark
and deadly.