To earthly objects given,
Form intimate connections
Between our world and heaven;
And all our long existence move
In an unbroken stream of love.
THE TYRANNY OF AFFECTION.
BY MRS. ENNSLO.
Methinks those who preach up the dignity of human nature, and expatiate
upon its original perfections, must look upon it through magic glasses: to
some perceptions at least, it presents even in its best estate a picture
of such abortive aims, such woful short-comings, such clouded brightness,
that even in those better natures, where we feel sure that the sun of
virtue _does_ shine, the noxious vapors of human frailty, pride in all its
various ramifications, selfishness under its many disguises, prejudice
with its endless excuses, etc., etc., do so envelope it that we cannot
hope to feel the warmth of its rays until some wholesome trial, some
aptly-apportioned cross, clear away these paralyzing influences and force
it into action.
What seems at the first glance freer from this dross than the love of man
to man? the love of the creature for his fellow; the ordained test of his
love to his Creator? What seems more preëminently pure than the affection
of the parent for the child, who owes him not only life but the nurture
which has maintained and elevated that life? Yet even here, even over this
fair garden of peace, the trail of the serpent may be detected. The
tyranny of deep affection is seen in every relation of life: we love a
cherished object, it may be with every fibre of our heart, ay, even
idolatrously; we would willingly spend and be spent to surround the
beloved one with materials for enjoyment; but these materials must be of
_our_ selection; we would sacrifice ourselves to lead them to happiness,
but _we_ must point out the road to them; we will bear every thing, endure
every thing, but the mortification of seeing them receive good at other
hands than our own. Ah! there are some rare exceptions to this rule, but
surely not more than enough to constitute it a rule.
Who that enjoyed the privilege of domestic intercourse with the venerable
and venerated father of the lovely Lucy Lee; he the most beloved as well
as respected inhabitant of the small town of ----; she not only the
prettiest but by far the most winning in her deportment of all the young
female circle of the place, of whom she was beyond all question the
ornament. Who that witnessed the fond pride with which the good old man
gazed upon her, as she glided around him, ministering to his wants with
that watchful ingenuity which characterizes woman's affection; who that
heard the tone of tenderness which marked even the most trifling word
addressed to her; a tenderness that seemed as if it might by its deep
pathos invoke every beneficent spirit to watch over her for good; his
early morning greeting, always accompanied by an upward look, which
proclaimed a daily aspiration of gratitude to the great Giver for the
precious gift; the nightly benediction which ever seemed as if it might
grow into a prayer for her welfare during the hours of darkness; who that
witnessed all this--and they could not be seen together without many such
hourly demonstrations of the father's love for his child shining through
his every word and action--but would have felt assured that this love
fashioned his every plan, and marked his estimate of the things of life?
Ah! of a certainty, it must have been so; her happiness must have been
safe in his keeping; and in truth, happiness had hitherto seemed hers by
prescriptive right. But all lanes however long turn at last, and those
most richly strewn with flowers are generally alas! by far the shortest.
Eighteen summers had flown since that which saw the little Lucy installed
sole possessor and sole solace of her bereaved father's heart; sole pledge
of a love which deeply rooted in a breast no longer subject to the
changeful fancies of youth, (for he had more than attained the prime of
middle-age when the original of the precious little miniature first
enchained his affections,) never revived for any other, but spent itself
in a doting fondness for this fair image of the lost one. Indeed it seemed
that every throb came with a double import from his burdened heart; the
parent's fondness ever mingling a tribute to the memory of her whose life
had been the price of the costly gift.
It is not always that the devotion of a parent is so entirely appreciated
as in this case; all Mr. Lee's efforts to promote his daughter's happiness
were crowned with entire success, and until the period mentioned above, no
one had ever detected on her lovely brow the semblance of a cloud. But the
course of nature cannot be altered; the petted child will one day grow
into the wilful woman; and however it may have been only a pleasant task
to follow the windings of the childish fancy ingenious in its caprice; and
only amusing to submit to the childish tyranny which pursues its own
beau-ideal of sport with reckless pertinacity; there sometimes comes a
change when the spoiled darling takes her first step upon the threshold of
maturity; when, with all the fresh vigor of youth in her untutored will,
she begins to assert her privilege, to cater for her own happiness, and
fashion her future according to the visions of her own fancy. Then comes
in the world with its many and diversified claims; claims so vigorously
enforced, but from which it is the first impulse of the young heart to
turn with loathing: it cannot bear to believe its happy independence of
all such considerations at an end; it does not submit easily to these new
trammels. Ah! how differently has passed the previous life! Something holy
gathers round a child; it seems to move superior to the base claims of the
world and its paltry rewards; and although often, it must be confessed,
the young intellect is early impressed with the idea that its best efforts
should be devoted to the insuring of worldly approbation, still the little
one's course of life is so distinct from the busy race to which we would
train it, that we cannot if we would entirely chain down its thoughts;
nay, we shrink before the pure innocence which cannot even understand our
weakness; and often yield a tribute to its superior dignity by concealing
our own care for such distinctions.
To those too who have seen much of life, and learnt to feel its
hollowness, real childishness of thought and feeling is so refreshing,
that they love rather to prolong the period than to shorten it. To Mr. Lee
the little Lucy seemed so entirely perfect in her infantine simplicity and
purity, that had he breathed a wish for the future, it would probably have
been that she should always continue his _little_ Lucy; he cared for no
change, and as it appeared, perceived none in her. Time passed on however,
and before he had become well aware that the little fairy whose tiny form
must needs so short a while since clamber on his knee to stroke and pat
his cheek, had now shot up into a tall girl, who could take his arm in a
long walk, or canter beside him all the morning on her well trained pony,
there came a change over the course of his quiet household little
startling. Visitors began to throng the hall; not those staid personages
who had hitherto been wont to gather round the warm hearth in winter, or
the sheltered piazza in the hot days of summer, and with feet upreared on
mantel-piece or bannister, discuss the affairs of state, and the price of
crops; new editions of these respected individuals now appeared; nephews
and sons came in their train; young friends, more perhaps than these
gentlemen were before aware of possessing, sought an introduction at their
hands, or came without any, on the plea perhaps of having met at a
tea-party, or some such strong necessity for acquaintanceship with the
fair Lucy; while the good Mr. Lee, often to his not very pleased surprise,
found on awaking from his afternoon's nap, that the book whose contents he
had purposed should perform their daily office of inspiring his dreams had
been laid aside, while the voice which had lulled him to sleep was now
charming other and younger ears in merry though perhaps suppressed
cadences. The variety in these visitors too grew somewhat annoying; new
people came, and Mr. Lee liked not new people. He was a man of warm but
very exclusive feelings; he loved but a few, and he liked no others: his
prejudices were strong, and having lived a very secluded life, the routine
of which presented no very decided obstacle to those prejudices, his
estimate of men and things had not altered with the general course of the
world around him. Liberal to an extreme in his dealings with men, his
intercourse with them, except in matters of business, was confined to a
very limited circle. Absolute in his requisitions from such as approached
him as intimates, his friendship was given only to those who met his views
in every respect; especially whose political opinions coincided with his
own. Indeed this seemed to be with him the one grand test. Though never
meddling in his own person with public life, he had such an abstract love
for its intricacies that he could at all times warm into actual enthusiasm
over a newspaper; a single paragraph from the pen one of his own way of
thinking sufficing to kindle his feelings into a glow of patriotism, while
a civil word of dissent would seem to chill his sympathies for his kind;
strong disapprobation blinding his perceptions to any good possible in
those differing from his established standard. Now it was not to be
expected that the young Lucy's circle would be modelled according to such
restrictions; she loved her kind old father with the clinging fondness of
an unweaned infant for its mother; but though again and again she would,
to gratify him, toil through a whole pamphlet, its meaning as dark to her
perceptions as the close and blurred print to his failing eyes, it may
well be imagined that her girlish brain failed to receive any other
impression from the contents than of their excessive tedium; certainly if
she formed therefrom any opinion regarding his favorite party, it was most
probably the not very flattering one that its members were all especially
tiresome and prolix.
Either from this notion, or a contradiction natural to human nature, it so
happened that among the rivals for the lovely Lucy's smiles, none seemed
to possess such power in riveting her attention as a certain young
gentleman, who although not only the son of a leading man in the
opposition, but holding himself a somewhat prominent place in the ranks of
the condemned party, yet continued with a boldness much to be wondered at
to engross the young lady's time by frequent visits of most unfashionable
length, in spite of Mr. Lee's open vituperations of all the manoeuvres of
the said party. The undaunted aspirant turned a deaf ear however to this,
taking every thing that was said in good part, until one day, when
suddenly his patience seemed to give out.
News had just been received of the marriage of a former school-mate of
Lucy's, the daughter of an old esteemed comrade, orthodox in all his
views, to an individual decidedly in the wrong on the one important point.
First, how astonished, next how entirely shocked, was the good old
gentleman! 'What a falling off! to give his child to ----! Pshaw! what
would the world come to! Where were his principles? where his wisdom?
where his _honor_?' etc., etc. Lucy, frightened perhaps at her father's
vehemence, turned pale. Dr. Kent, the friend and physician of the family,
who chanced to be present, endeavored to calm him, but with little
success; and Mr. Lillburgh, unable as it seemed to join in condemning this
'mis-alliance,' left the house somewhat abruptly. Soon after this,
however, an opportune influx of papers and pamphlets caused a salutary
diversion in Mr. Lee's irritated feelings; and as Lucy's most monopolizing
visitor seemed quite to have disappeared, he could now enjoy his favorite
luxury of drinking in, through the medium of the voice he loved so well,
the words of wisdom he honored so highly.
Whether these tiresome lectures proved too burdensome for her young
spirits, or some other cause operated to injure her health, did not
appear; but just at this time, when Mr. Lee seemed to find his life
especially comfortable and pleasant, his hitherto blooming daughter
gradually began to droop; her spirits, formerly so even, were now
constantly fluctuating: at times she would sit pale and _distraite_ among
a gay and laughing circle of her young associates, while at others, a ring
at the bell, a step in the hall, would suffice to call the color to her
cheek and kindle animation in her eye. It was this variation perhaps,
together with certain animating plans of his own, which rendered her
father insensible to her condition; for by a strange contradiction in the
course of things, he seemed just at this time especially occupied with
forming brilliant plans for her future. Fairly aware now of her being no
longer a child, he would comment upon her dress, urge her to more
ornament, and then with a knowing look speak of his anticipated pleasure
in the society of two expected visitors, one staunch old veteran of the
true faith, and his son, a worthy descendant, one who deserved the smiles
of the fair for the brilliant speech he had made the last session. Poor
Lucy at each reference to this subject would look more and more
uncomfortable; but her father, thinking that she might be perhaps a little
wayward; while he grew daily more enamoured of his plan, redoubled his
tenderness, seeking to study her whims in every other respect. It is cruel
to loose every bond but that which galls most sorely, to pluck away every
thorn but that which pricks most sharply: all the perceptions gather to
that point, and the suffering is in consequence tenfold more acute. Such
were Lucy's sensations, though she was perhaps scarcely conscious of them
herself; while at every demonstration of her father's tenderness, the
feelings which she knew to be rebels to his dearest wishes would seem to
spring up and accuse her of ingratitude. This struggle could not last; at
length the fond father became suddenly aware that some strange blight had
fallen upon his darling, and his whole soul was convulsed at the thought
that evil might possibly threaten her; he felt ready to send a
proclamation through the world to summon all its skill to spend itself for
her restoration. Upon second thoughts he made up his mind that there was
but one man in the world to whom he would confide the precious trust; yes,
he was fully assured that in the brain of Dr. Kent, the only lineal
descendant of Esculapius, were to be found all the best resources of the
art of healing; _he_ must always and on all occasions, be more right than
any one else. Why? But why ask why, when he had formed this opinion ever
since Dr. Kent first assumed the M. D., and had always held it firmly. Dr.
Kent was summoned and soon appeared; the startled girl, sorely against her
will, was called into the room; all the usual ceremony gone through; the
pulse tested, the tongue examined, etc., and then suffered to slip out of
the room. Mr. Lee listened with a beating heart for the doctor's decision:
this last did not deny that the young lady's appearance was strangely
altered since he had last seen her, which indeed was not since the evening
above alluded to, of Mr. Lee's violent irritation against his old friend.
But the cause; the next thing for the doctor to do was to discover the
cause. Now Dr. Kent, although some people did say that he was no student,
had a considerable portion of what is called _mother-wit_; and if he did
not possess the stores of learning which might have been amassed by poring
over his books, he was at least without the abstraction which much
scientific research is thought to occasion; he looked around him with a
shrewd eye, and simply by putting two and two together, often made very
successful calculations. He hesitated, reflected and recollected; 'perhaps
she wanted excitement,' he said; 'perhaps there was too little variety in
her life for one so young.' Mr. Lee assured him that she had always
appeared very indifferent to society; that until very lately she had
always seemed as happy as the day was long, and to desire no other company
than that of the visitors who dropped in upon them occasionally.
'Well, we must have something more amusing for her than _visiting_;
something more exciting.' The doctor here mused again for a few moments:
'You say she has seemed happy until very lately?'
'Yes, it is only lately that she has seemed to droop.'
'Well, perhaps she's been particularly dull lately; now by way of
experiment, suppose you at once summon a large party to your house; let it
be a very general invitation; all your acquaintances, that is the young
ones, _her_ acquaintances; all who have ever visited at the house; and as
_you_ may not be able to remember them all, it will be best to direct her
to do it in your name; this will of itself furnish her with a rather
exciting occupation. All this is by way of experiment I say, for it may
_not_ be that she needs amusement, but by the effect that company and
gayety have upon her, which I shall take care to be by and watch. I have a
notion that I shall be enabled to decide upon the character of her
indisposition. One thing however; remember you must give me
_carte-blanche_ as to the course of treatment to be pursued; your
prejudices, you confess you have them, must not hamper me.'
'My prejudices!' replied Mr. Lee; 'why what can they have to do with your
prescriptions? You know me well enough to be aware that I do not undertake
to meddle with matters I do not understand; the art of medicine for
instance, to which I make no pretensions; of course I shall not interfere;
only tell me what is to be done for my child, and you may be very sure no
difficulty will arise on my part, should it be that I must take her to
Egypt or Kamtschatka.'
'It is not probable that I shall call upon you for any such effort; on the
contrary, I have a strong impression that a very simple course will
answer; I was afraid you might not like its simplicity.'
'Really,' said Mr. Lee, 'that is too bad; am I that sort of person? Don't
tantalize me, Doctor, but just tell me what ought to be done for my poor
child, and you must be assured that _I_ will not object.'
'Of course, no father would,' said Dr. Kent.
'Then why the deuce do you imagine for an instant that _I_ would?'
'Nay now,' said the physician, 'it is only a whim of mine, and every one
must be allowed some whims: but good day; remember your promise.'
'Oh yes, only make up your mind at once.'
Great was Lucy's surprise, when upon being again summoned by her father,
she received from him the commission just determined upon. At one moment
to have her pulse felt, and the next to be told that she must prepare for
entertaining a large party! What did it mean? The good father, startled at
her agitation, assured her that he himself felt the want of a little more
society, and that he thought it would do _him_ good to have a company of
gay young people about him for an evening. Lucy was afraid she could not
recollect all her acquaintances. 'Well, no matter; only invite all she
_could_ remember; he should be satisfied with her arrangement of the
affair.'
Whatever may have been the efforts of Lucy's memory, it is certain that
only a moderate number of tickets were sent out for the appointed evening;
indeed it might have been feared that the doctor's experiment could
scarcely have a fair scope in so limited a circle; but finding that his
patient had had her own way in the whole, _he_ seemed to feel quite
assured of success. Before etiquette would have permitted the arrival of
any other guest, he had taken his place close beside the fair mistress of
the revels, and even after the room began to fill, seemed determined to
yield his envied position to no one. Those who said Dr. Kent was no
student, should have seen him then; his eye riveted on her fair young
countenance, there could be no doubt he was conning _that_ closely. At
every fresh arrival, how he watched the eager glance of inquiry! how his
gaze followed the course of the eloquent blood as it left the transparent
cheek, again to burden the disappointed heart!
The doctor was still puzzled; the gay company had by no means yet wrought
the change he looked for; how was this?--but he held to his watch. And now
once more the door was thrown open, and a young gentleman, with a
decidedly hesitating air and step, approached the youthful hostess. Ah!
now the light no longer flickered in her clear blue eye; it literally
danced: the awakened color left her cheek it is true, as before, but how
soon it came again! 'You positively have stood long enough, and must sit
down now,' said Dr. Kent, taking Lucy's hand; not the tip-ends of her
fingers; no, the doctor was not one either to be satisfied with any such
superficial plan of action, or to forego his privileges; on the contrary,
availing himself of his position of friend of the family, he possessed
himself of the whole of the little delicate hand, when, old habit it might
be, leading him to measure with some exactness the slender wrist thereto
belonging, he pressed it most cordially, and after one or two moments of
such demonstration of his affectionate regard, yielded his place beside
her to the last comer.
Mr. Lee now joined him as he lounged upon a sofa, with an air of entire
inattention to what was going on around him, yet turning from time to time
a heedful glance upon Lucy who sat just opposite, replying more by blushes
than words to the depressed tones of young Mr. Lillburgh's voice. 'Well,
Doctor, and how goes on the experiment?' The anxious father tried to speak
calmly, but his voice trembled.
'I am quite satisfied with my _experiment_,' replied Dr. Kent; 'but I will
confess (you know I am a candid man) that the result makes me feel a
little serious.' Dr. Kent knew, as we all have an opportunity of knowing,
that a danger, however startling, for which we are at once provided with a
remedy, is soon scorned; that it must stare us very decidedly in the face,
before we are willing to appreciate the said remedy. 'Yes,' continued he.
'I had no idea of the deep root the disease had taken.'
'Good heavens! my friend,' exclaimed Mr. Lee, grasping Dr. Kent's hand in
the utmost agitation; 'and the remedy you thought of--is the case too
serious for it to be available?'
'I trust not,' replied the Doctor; 'I believe indeed that if I can apply
the proper remedy in time, all may be well; but as I said just now, I am
a candid man, and don't like to raise false hopes: I tell you frankly this
case is not one to be trifled with; it requires nice management: the young
lady is delicate, very delicate; her nervous system is now decidedly
deranged.'
'But don't you think, Doctor, don't you think, my good friend, that she
looks a little better this evening? See how animatedly she is listening to
that young man: by-the-by, who is he?'
'Oh, no matter who he is, so he amuses Miss Lucy. But with regard to her
case; I will study it seriously to-night, and tell you what result I have
come to to-morrow about noon. I shall give all my mind to it, for I know
how precious she must be to you; I know that nothing the world has to
give, can make up to you for the most trifling evil that can assail her.'
'Oh, nothing, nothing; but what tormenting apprehensions you fill me with!
Gracious heaven! my dear Sir, she is my all; my past, my present, my
future are made by her; but you will help me if you can. May Almighty
wisdom aid you!' And the agitated father rushed out of the room, unable
any longer to control himself.
Dr. Kent looked after him with something of commiseration in his
countenance; but being a decided enemy to homeopathic innovation, he had
made up his mind that a strong dose of apprehension was positively
necessary; and now, only gratified at its powerful effect, he resumed his
surveillance with a heartlessly satisfied air. This was no doubt rendered
the more easy to him by Mr. Lee's continued absence from the room: the
young Lucy, thus relieved from the observation which she unconsciously
dreaded, growing more and more at her ease, enabled him to settle his
opinion regarding her completely.