CHAPTER III.
HAPPY, thrice happy, were the months, and weeks, and hours of that year.Friendship, hand in hand with admiration, tenderness and respect, built abower of delight in my heart, late rough as an untrod wild in America, asthe homeless wind or herbless sea. Insatiate thirst for knowledge, andboundless affection for Adrian, combined to keep both my heart andunderstanding occupied, and I was consequently happy. What happiness is sotrue and unclouded, as the overflowing and talkative delight of youngpeople. In our boat, upon my native lake, beside the streams and the palebordering poplars--in valley and over hill, my crook thrown aside, anobler flock to tend than silly sheep, even a flock of new-born ideas, Iread or listened to Adrian; and his discourse, whether it concerned hislove or his theories for the improvement of man, alike entranced me.Sometimes my lawless mood would return, my love of peril, my resistance toauthority; but this was in his absence; under the mild sway of his deareyes, I was obedient and good as a boy of five years old, who does hismother's bidding.
After a residence of about a year at Ulswater, Adrian visited London, andcame back full of plans for our benefit. You must begin life, he said: youare seventeen, and longer delay would render the necessary apprenticeshipmore and more irksome. He foresaw that his own life would be one ofstruggle, and I must partake his labours with him. The better to fit me forthis task, we must now separate. He found my name a good passport topreferment, and he had procured for me the situation of private secretaryto the Ambassador at Vienna, where I should enter on my career under thebest auspices. In two years, I should return to my country, with a namewell known and a reputation already founded.
And Perdita?--Perdita was to become the pupil, friend and younger sisterof Evadne. With his usual thoughtfulness, he had provided for herindependence in this situation. How refuse the offers of this generousfriend?--I did not wish to refuse them; but in my heart of hearts, I madea vow to devote life, knowledge, and power, all of which, in as much asthey were of any value, he had bestowed on me--all, all my capacities andhopes, to him alone I would devote.
Thus I promised myself, as I journied towards my destination with rousedand ardent expectation: expectation of the fulfilment of all that inboyhood we promise ourselves of power and enjoyment in maturity. Methoughtthe time was now arrived, when, childish occupations laid aside, I shouldenter into life. Even in the Elysian fields, Virgil describes the souls ofthe happy as eager to drink of the wave which was to restore them to thismortal coil. The young are seldom in Elysium, for their desires,outstripping possibility, leave them as poor as a moneyless debtor. We aretold by the wisest philosophers of the dangers of the world, the deceits ofmen, and the treason of our own hearts: but not the less fearlessly doeseach put off his frail bark from the port, spread the sail, and strain hisoar, to attain the multitudinous streams of the sea of life. How few inyouth's prime, moor their vessels on the "golden sands," and collect thepainted shells that strew them. But all at close of day, with riven planksand rent canvas make for shore, and are either wrecked ere they reach it,or find some wave-beaten haven, some desart strand, whereon to castthemselves and die unmourned.
A truce to philosophy!--Life is before me, and I rush into possession.Hope, glory, love, and blameless ambition are my guides, and my soul knowsno dread. What has been, though sweet, is gone; the present is good onlybecause it is about to change, and the to come is all my own. Do I fear,that my heart palpitates? high aspirations cause the flow of my blood; myeyes seem to penetrate the cloudy midnight of time, and to discern withinthe depths of its darkness, the fruition of all my soul desires.
Now pause!--During my journey I might dream, and with buoyant wings reachthe summit of life's high edifice. Now that I am arrived at its base, mypinions are furled, the mighty stairs are before me, and step by step Imust ascend the wondrous fane--
Speak!--What door is opened?
Behold me in a new capacity. A diplomatist: one among the pleasure-seekingsociety of a gay city; a youth of promise; favourite of the Ambassador. Allwas strange and admirable to the shepherd of Cumberland. With breathlessamaze I entered on the gay scene, whose actors were
--the lilies glorious as Solomon, Who toil not, neither do they spin.
Soon, too soon, I entered the giddy whirl; forgetting my studious hours,and the companionship of Adrian. Passionate desire of sympathy, and ardentpursuit for a wished-for object still characterized me. The sight of beautyentranced me, and attractive manners in man or woman won my entireconfidence. I called it rapture, when a smile made my heart beat; and Ifelt the life's blood tingle in my frame, when I approached the idol whichfor awhile I worshipped. The mere flow of animal spirits was Paradise, andat night's close I only desired a renewal of the intoxicating delusion. Thedazzling light of ornamented rooms; lovely forms arrayed in splendiddresses; the motions of a dance, the voluptuous tones of exquisite music,cradled my senses in one delightful dream.
And is not this in its kind happiness? I appeal to moralists and sages. Iask if in the calm of their measured reveries, if in the deep meditationswhich fill their hours, they feel the extasy of a youthful tyro in theschool of pleasure? Can the calm beams of their heaven-seeking eyes equalthe flashes of mingling passion which blind his, or does the influence ofcold philosophy steep their soul in a joy equal to his, engaged
In this dear work of youthful revelry.
But in truth, neither the lonely meditations of the hermit, nor thetumultuous raptures of the reveller, are capable of satisfying man's heart.From the one we gather unquiet speculation, from the other satiety. Themind flags beneath the weight of thought, and droops in the heartlessintercourse of those whose sole aim is amusement. There is no fruition intheir vacant kindness, and sharp rocks lurk beneath the smiling ripples ofthese shallow waters.
Thus I felt, when disappointment, weariness, and solitude drove me backupon my heart, to gather thence the joy of which it had become barren. Myflagging spirits asked for something to speak to the affections; and notfinding it, I drooped. Thus, notwithstanding the thoughtless delight thatwaited on its commencement, the impression I have of my life at Vienna ismelancholy. Goethe has said, that in youth we cannot be happy unless welove. I did not love; but I was devoured by a restless wish to be somethingto others. I became the victim of ingratitude and cold coquetry--then Idesponded, and imagined that my discontent gave me a right to hate theworld. I receded to solitude; I had recourse to my books, and my desireagain to enjoy the society of Adrian became a burning thirst.
Emulation, that in its excess almost assumed the venomous properties ofenvy, gave a sting to these feelings. At this period the name and exploitsof one of my countrymen filled the world with admiration. Relations of whathe had done, conjectures concerning his future actions, were thenever-failing topics of the hour. I was not angry on my own account, but Ifelt as if the praises which this idol received were leaves torn fromlaurels destined for Adrian. But I must enter into some account of thisdarling of fame--this favourite of the wonder-loving world.
Lord Raymond was the sole remnant of a noble but impoverished family. Fromearly youth he had considered his pedigree with complacency, and bitterlylamented his want of wealth. His first wish was aggrandisement; and themeans that led towards this end were secondary considerations. Haughty, yettrembling to every demonstration of respect; ambitious, but too proud toshew his ambition; willing to achieve honour, yet a votary of pleasure,--he entered upon life. He was met on the threshold by some insult, real orimaginary; some repulse, where he least expected it; some disappointment,hard for his pride to bear. He writhed beneath an injury he was unable torevenge; and he quitted England with a vow not to return, till the goodtime should arrive, when she might feel the power of him she now despised.
He became an adventurer in the Greek wars. His reckless courage andcomprehensive genius brought him into notice. He became the darling hero ofthis rising people. His foreign birth, and he refused to throw off hisallegiance to his native country, alone prevented him from filling the
first offices in the state. But, though others might rank higher in titleand ceremony, Lord Raymond held a station above and beyond all this. He ledthe Greek armies to victory; their triumphs were all his own. When heappeared, whole towns poured forth their population to meet him; new songswere adapted to their national airs, whose themes were his glory, valour,and munificence. A truce was concluded between the Greeks and Turks. At thesame time, Lord Raymond, by some unlooked-for chance, became the possessorof an immense fortune in England, whither he returned, crowned with glory,to receive the meed of honour and distinction before denied to hispretensions. His proud heart rebelled against this change. In what was thedespised Raymond not the same? If the acquisition of power in the shape ofwealth caused this alteration, that power should they feel as an iron yoke.Power therefore was the aim of all his endeavours; aggrandizement the markat which he for ever shot. In open ambition or close intrigue, his end wasthe same--to attain the first station in his own country.
This account filled me with curiosity. The events that in successionfollowed his return to England, gave me keener feelings. Among his otheradvantages, Lord Raymond was supremely handsome; every one admired him; ofwomen he was the idol. He was courteous, honey-tongued--an adept infascinating arts. What could not this man achieve in the busy Englishworld? Change succeeded to change; the entire history did not reach me; forAdrian had ceased to write, and Perdita was a laconic correspondent. Therumour went that Adrian had become--how write the fatal word--mad: thatLord Raymond was the favourite of the ex-queen, her daughter's destinedhusband. Nay, more, that this aspiring noble revived the claim of the houseof Windsor to the crown, and that, on the event of Adrian's incurabledisorder and his marriage with the sister, the brow of the ambitiousRaymond might be encircled with the magic ring of regality.
Such a tale filled the trumpet of many voiced fame; such a tale rendered mylonger stay at Vienna, away from the friend of my youth, intolerable. Now Imust fulfil my vow; now range myself at his side, and be his ally andsupport till death. Farewell to courtly pleasure; to politic intrigue; tothe maze of passion and folly! All hail, England! Native England, receivethy child! thou art the scene of all my hopes, the mighty theatre on whichis acted the only drama that can, heart and soul, bear me along with it inits development. A voice most irresistible, a power omnipotent, drew methither. After an absence of two years I landed on its shores, not daringto make any inquiries, fearful of every remark. My first visit would be tomy sister, who inhabited a little cottage, a part of Adrian's gift, on theborders of Windsor Forest. From her I should learn the truth concerning ourprotector; I should hear why she had withdrawn from the protection of thePrincess Evadne, and be instructed as to the influence which thisovertopping and towering Raymond exercised over the fortunes of my friend.
I had never before been in the neighbourhood of Windsor; the fertility andbeauty of the country around now struck me with admiration, which encreasedas I approached the antique wood. The ruins of majestic oaks which hadgrown, flourished, and decayed during the progress of centuries, markedwhere the limits of the forest once reached, while the shattered palingsand neglected underwood shewed that this part was deserted for the youngerplantations, which owed their birth to the beginning of the nineteenthcentury, and now stood in the pride of maturity. Perdita's humble dwellingwas situated on the skirts of the most ancient portion; before it wasstretched Bishopgate Heath, which towards the east appeared interminable,and was bounded to the west by Chapel Wood and the grove of Virginia Water.Behind, the cottage was shadowed by the venerable fathers of the forest,under which the deer came to graze, and which for the most part hollow anddecayed, formed fantastic groups that contrasted with the regular beauty ofthe younger trees. These, the offspring of a later period, stood erect andseemed ready to advance fearlessly into coming time; while those out wornstragglers, blasted and broke, clung to each other, their weak boughssighing as the wind buffetted them--a weather-beaten crew.
A light railing surrounded the garden of the cottage, which, low-roofed,seemed to submit to the majesty of nature, and cower amidst the venerableremains of forgotten time. Flowers, the children of the spring, adorned hergarden and casements; in the midst of lowliness there was an air ofelegance which spoke the graceful taste of the inmate. With a beating heartI entered the enclosure; as I stood at the entrance, I heard hervoice, melodious as it had ever been, which before I saw her assured me ofher welfare.
A moment more and Perdita appeared; she stood before me in the fresh bloomof youthful womanhood, different from and yet the same as the mountain girlI had left. Her eyes could not be deeper than they were in childhood, norher countenance more expressive; but the expression was changed andimproved; intelligence sat on her brow; when she smiled her face wasembellished by the softest sensibility, and her low, modulated voice seemedtuned by love. Her person was formed in the most feminine proportions; shewas not tall, but her mountain life had given freedom to her motions, sothat her light step scarce made her foot-fall heard as she tript across thehall to meet me. When we had parted, I had clasped her to my bosom withunrestrained warmth; we met again, and new feelings were awakened; wheneach beheld the other, childhood passed, as full grown actors on thischangeful scene. The pause was but for a moment; the flood of associationand natural feeling which had been checked, again rushed in full tide uponour hearts, and with tenderest emotion we were swiftly locked in eachother's embrace.
This burst of passionate feeling over, with calmed thoughts we sattogether, talking of the past and present. I alluded to the coldness of herletters; but the few minutes we had spent together sufficiently explainedthe origin of this. New feelings had arisen within her, which she wasunable to express in writing to one whom she had only known in childhood;but we saw each other again, and our intimacy was renewed as if nothing hadintervened to check it. I detailed the incidents of my sojourn abroad, andthen questioned her as to the changes that had taken place at home, thecauses of Adrian's absence, and her secluded life.
The tears that suffused my sister's eyes when I mentioned our friend, andher heightened colour seemed to vouch for the truth of the reports that hadreached me. But their import was too terrible for me to give instant creditto my suspicion. Was there indeed anarchy in the sublime universe ofAdrian's thoughts, did madness scatter the well-appointed legions, and washe no longer the lord of his own soul? Beloved friend, this ill world wasno clime for your gentle spirit; you delivered up its governance to falsehumanity, which stript it of its leaves ere winter-time, and laid bare itsquivering life to the evil ministration of roughest winds. Have thosegentle eyes, those "channels of the soul" lost their meaning, or do theyonly in their glare disclose the horrible tale of its aberrations? Doesthat voice no longer "discourse excellent music?" Horrible, most horrible!I veil my eyes in terror of the change, and gushing tears bear witness tomy sympathy for this unimaginable ruin.
In obedience to my request Perdita detailed the melancholy circumstancesthat led to this event.
The frank and unsuspicious mind of Adrian, gifted as it was by everynatural grace, endowed with transcendant powers of intellect, unblemishedby the shadow of defect (unless his dreadless independence of thought wasto be construed into one), was devoted, even as a victim to sacrifice, tohis love for Evadne. He entrusted to her keeping the treasures of his soul,his aspirations after excellence, and his plans for the improvement ofmankind. As manhood dawned upon him, his schemes and theories, far frombeing changed by personal and prudential motives, acquired new strengthfrom the powers he felt arise within him; and his love for Evadne becamedeep-rooted, as he each day became more certain that the path he pursuedwas full of difficulty, and that he must seek his reward, not in theapplause or gratitude of his fellow creatures, hardly in the success of hisplans, but in the approbation of his own heart, and in her love andsympathy, which was to lighten every toil and recompence every sacrifice.
In solitude, and through many wanderings afar from the haunts of men, hematured his views for the reform of the
English government, and theimprovement of the people. It would have been well if he had concealed hissentiments, until he had come into possession of the power which wouldsecure their practical development. But he was impatient of the years thatmust intervene, he was frank of heart and fearless. He gave not only abrief denial to his mother's schemes, but published his intention of usinghis influence to diminish the power of the aristocracy, to effect a greaterequalization of wealth and privilege, and to introduce a perfect system ofrepublican government into England. At first his mother treated histheories as the wild ravings of inexperience. But they were sosystematically arranged, and his arguments so well supported, that thoughstill in appearance incredulous, she began to fear him. She tried to reasonwith him, and finding him inflexible, learned to hate him.
Strange to say, this feeling was infectious. His enthusiasm for good whichdid not exist; his contempt for the sacredness of authority; his ardour andimprudence were all at the antipodes of the usual routine of life; theworldly feared him; the young and inexperienced did not understand thelofty severity of his moral views, and disliked him as a being differentfrom themselves. Evadne entered but coldly into his systems. She thought hedid well to assert his own will, but she wished that will to have been moreintelligible to the multitude. She had none of the spirit of a martyr, anddid not incline to share the shame and defeat of a fallen patriot. She wasaware of the purity of his motives, the generosity of his disposition, histrue and ardent attachment to her; and she entertained a great affectionfor him. He repaid this spirit of kindness with the fondest gratitude, andmade her the treasure-house of all his hopes.
At this time Lord Raymond returned from Greece. No two persons could bemore opposite than Adrian and he. With all the incongruities of hischaracter, Raymond was emphatically a man of the world. His passions wereviolent; as these often obtained the mastery over him, he could not alwayssquare his conduct to the obvious line of self-interest, butself-gratification at least was the paramount object with him. He looked onthe structure of society as but a part of the machinery which supported theweb on which his life was traced. The earth was spread out as an highwayfor him; the heavens built up as a canopy for him.
Adrian felt that he made a part of a great whole. He owned affinity notonly with mankind, but all nature was akin to him; the mountains and skywere his friends; the winds of heaven and the offspring of earth hisplaymates; while he the focus only of this mighty mirror, felt his lifemingle with the universe of existence. His soul was sympathy, and dedicatedto the worship of beauty and excellence. Adrian and Raymond now came intocontact, and a spirit of aversion rose between them. Adrian despised thenarrow views of the politician, and Raymond held in supreme contempt thebenevolent visions of the philanthropist.
With the coming of Raymond was formed the storm that laid waste at one fellblow the gardens of delight and sheltered paths which Adrian fancied thathe had secured to himself, as a refuge from defeat and contumely. Raymond,the deliverer of Greece, the graceful soldier, who bore in his mien a tingeof all that, peculiar to her native clime, Evadne cherished as most dear--Raymond was loved by Evadne. Overpowered by her new sensations, she did notpause to examine them, or to regulate her conduct by any sentiments exceptthe tyrannical one which suddenly usurped the empire of her heart. Sheyielded to its influence, and the too natural consequence in a mindunattuned to soft emotions was, that the attentions of Adrian becamedistasteful to her. She grew capricious; her gentle conduct towards him wasexchanged for asperity and repulsive coldness. When she perceived the wildor pathetic appeal of his expressive countenance, she would relent, and fora while resume her ancient kindness. But these fluctuations shook to itsdepths the soul of the sensitive youth; he no longer deemed the worldsubject to him, because he possessed Evadne's love; he felt in every nervethat the dire storms of the mental universe were about to attack hisfragile being, which quivered at the expectation of its advent.
Perdita, who then resided with Evadne, saw the torture that Adrian endured.She loved him as a kind elder brother; a relation to guide, protect, andinstruct her, without the too frequent tyranny of parental authority. Sheadored his virtues, and with mixed contempt and indignation she saw Evadnepile drear sorrow on his head, for the sake of one who hardly marked her.In his solitary despair Adrian would often seek my sister, and in coveredterms express his misery, while fortitude and agony divided the throne ofhis mind. Soon, alas! was one to conquer. Anger made no part of hisemotion. With whom should he be angry? Not with Raymond, who wasunconscious of the misery he occasioned; not with Evadne, for her his soulwept tears of blood--poor, mistaken girl, slave not tyrant was she, andamidst his own anguish he grieved for her future destiny. Once a writing ofhis fell into Perdita's hands; it was blotted with tears--well might anyblot it with the like--
"Life"--it began thus--"is not the thing romance writers describe it;going through the measures of a dance, and after various evolutionsarriving at a conclusion, when the dancers may sit down and repose. Whilethere is life there is action and change. We go on, each thought linked tothe one which was its parent, each act to a previous act. No joy or sorrowdies barren of progeny, which for ever generated and generating, weaves thechain that make our life:
Un dia llama a otro dia y ass i llama, y encadena llanto a llanto, y pena a pena.
Truly disappointment is the guardian deity of human life; she sitsat the threshold of unborn time, and marshals the events as theycome forth. Once my heart sat lightly in my bosom; all the beauty of theworld was doubly beautiful, irradiated by the sun-light shed from my ownsoul. O wherefore are love and ruin for ever joined in this our mortaldream? So that when we make our hearts a lair for that gently seemingbeast, its companion enters with it, and pitilessly lays waste what mighthave been an home and a shelter."
By degrees his health was shaken by his misery, and then his intellectyielded to the same tyranny. His manners grew wild; he was sometimesferocious, sometimes absorbed in speechless melancholy. Suddenly Evadnequitted London for Paris; he followed, and overtook her when the vessel wasabout to sail; none knew what passed between them, but Perdita had neverseen him since; he lived in seclusion, no one knew where, attended by suchpersons as his mother selected for that purpose.