66 I have a strange presentiment. Your manner, my dear Brooke, and Osgood's remarks concerning his friends at home, and the resemblance you trace between our favorite statue and this relative of Osgood, all tend to set my mind afloat. I never felt this presentiment so strongly before. It is weak to feel it at all." "Were you ever sea-sick?" "Why do you ask? Had it not been for your care, I might have died of seasickness." "I never was sea-sick. I wouldn't be sea-sick, but ran about to counteract the motion that causes that provoking malady. Had I not fought against it, I should have been down under it." "Well! what has that to do with the present case?" "Just this; when you allow the mind or body to yield to influences of any kind, it will be affected; but if you wont allow it, it will not be easily affected. The mind or nerves are often so affected as to produce tremor of the body, paleness, faintings, and there are instances, credibly recorded of diseases, such as Asiatic cholera, being produced by mere fear of it. On the other hand, physicians whose practice renders them insensible to danger from contagion, seldom suffer from exposure to it. Now you allow your feelings and fancy to disturb your nervous system." "Of that I am conscious, and I would gladly arrest such unmanliness, but it has become too strong for me. It is like an inebriate's appetite for stimulants; all I am able to do is to run away from whatever tends to aggravate the malady. But I can't run away from my own thoughts." "True. But at the bottom of all our mental action there is the question of our own happiness, and that question is magnified into undue importance. What does it really matter whether we are happy or not?" "My dear Brooke, you preach well; one should be concerned about something more than his personal happiness. Even the restless innovators in religion, politics, art, mechanics, and other means of promoting the common good, who sacrifice time, money, and their present reputation for wisdom, have a nobler motive than mere selfishness, in addition to mere selfishness. But what is the amount of it? As I understand, we are addressed as little more than merely selfish beings, and urged to become unselfish, or rather generous; that is, desirous of the general good. I am painfully conscious that I am yet unregenerate, or in a slight degree regenerate; and I do not hope for the perfection that all should desire until I have had time for the growth of ideas, hopes, tastes, principles, and other elements of character. At present, I cannot be indifferent to my own present happiness. Yet I see that it is weakness." "You, also, preach well, but you don't take pains to get round difficulties that you cannot climb over, or overthrow. If I had fancied that my Julia was altogether better than I am, and that it would be a cheat for me to marry her, I would have looked around for some one whom I could honestly marry; and I would have opened my eyes to all imperfections, and found all the sour grapes possible, to render me content with the humbler companion I had conscientiously preferred." "I doubt it, Ned. You would have tried to make yourself worthy of her." "That would have depended on the prospect of success within a reasonable time. And if I had determined to win her fairly, I would have told her my love, and tried effectively to satisfy her judgment, and persuade her to bear with my present defects. I might have provoked her to reject me, and resolve never to forgive my presumption; but this hazard is less than that of indecision. I knew an impudent fellow, who was getting rich, and was assiduously courted by the old people, who spoiled his prospects by precipitation, as any one may do; he proposed too soon, was, of course, rejected; and he persevered too openly, and made his intractable mistress furious; yet he meekly bore all her spite, which, of course, increased it. He became such an intolerable bore that, one evening at a party, she refused to dance with him; he humbly regretted his inability to please, and begged to know what he could do to foreseen that this would be discovered, make himself agreeable. She savagely but neither had ventured to suggest it replied, "Oh! you might be perhaps openly. It was a remarkable instance of agreeable if you would use less tobacco indistinct perception, such as may happen and more soap; but even then I should among those who are intimately acquaintnot wish to dance with you." Now this ed, in which what is called feeling was an extreme case of precipitation and gropes its way without the light of pressure, but hardly more impolitic than knowledge, and sometimes gets along betthe opposite extreme. Here we are at ter in its blindness than if knowledge, the hotel." with its light, not always clear, could make all intelligible, or seem so. Brooke had not mentioned the name of Miss Richardson until he introduced him, the reason why he did not pretend to know; but he did what seemed to suggest itself as likely to benefit his friend if it were possible; and Lindsey had not inquired about names or other matters that might enlighten him, being, as usual, morbidly apprehensive of exhibiting weakness. They found Osgood and his family party, consisting of his wife, his mother, and his wife's mother and cousin, Mrs. and Miss Richardson, an exceedingly pleasant party to find in a land of strangers. Brooke watched to see the effect on Lindsey which would be made by his introduction to Miss Richardson. It was clearly perceptible to Brooke, but might not have been noticed by any one who was not carefully observing. It seemed, however, to be felt by the lady; but whatever unusual expression might have been noticed was at once explained by a claim of old acquaintance; they had been neighbors in childhood and youth. It was a glad reunion for all. Mrs. Richardson, although she would not at first have known the son of her old neighbor and friend, did not fail to trace the resemblance to the youth of eighteen, and to his father, and even to his mother, etc. The evening passed most agreeably, cnding in a plan for visiting certain places next day, in company. Brooke observed that his friend was in some degree embarrassed, or less fluent than he should have been when conversing with Miss Richardson, he therefore contrived to relieve him, by attracting her conversation to himself, and turning him over to Mrs. Richardson and the others. It was known to them that Brooke was soon to be married, in fact they knew the lady; so his assiduity was ascribed to common interest in the objects they had recently visited together. On their way homeward Lindsey and Brooke had mutual explanations quite satisfactory and in some degree surprising, though not wholly unexpected. Miss Richardson was the original of the vision which Lindsey had cherished. Both had dimly Now, were I in your case, Lindsey, I would be a happy fellow very soon; say in three or four weeks, or less." "You would have me do now what you think I should have done fourteen years ago, when there was nothing but hope in my box." "I only tell you what I would do. I would not be absent a moment, when my presence could be tolerated; and I would in every way express my interest, and make a full confession as soon as she had time to judge what her youthful lover had become after long absence." "You forget that she did not know me as a lover." "Not know you as a lover, — rather as a suitor! I don't forget that. But I don't believe two young persons, such as you and she were, could maintain a onesided devotion, entirely without consciousness on the other side. Depend on it she has a sub-consciousness that you loved her then and love her now." "But you do not consider my present condition; I fear I am a broken-down man, worn out by hard work in mercantile duties and anxieties. I felt the need of relief from it, and hoped that repose would recruit my health, but I fear it is too late. You would not have me offer such a wreck to such a splendid flower of health?" "Ha, ha, ha! Your infirmity is a notion. You tire me out in walking; never have a cold; always have strength enough to get four miles ahead of the carriage in crossing a mountain, and feel the better for the walk. It is only when you sit down and dream, that you get uneasy, merely for want of the exercise you have been accustomed to. Don't concern yourself about your health; she will hardly find one less exceptionable on that score. Don't talk more of that nonsense; that comes from water-cure establishments, and the patent medicine trade, and the amateur medical profession. Just eat, drink, rush about in all places and weather, and don't believe, without evidence, that you are any way out of health, and you will do well enough." "Why, as to mere bodily health, I believe I am well; but what do you make of the extraordinary excitement of nerves which keeps an image before me that is quite as distinct as reality?" "I don't know. But I would try the reality, and take my chance of making the image harmless. That's my present judgment. Now, if you fancy that you are not quite in sound mind, why, hadn't you better trust to my judgment?" "I'll tell you to-morrow. Here we are at your lodging. Good-night." 66 Good-night, George! Sound sleep and pleasant dreams to you. To-morrow you must be awake and alive, and not sigh like a furnace, as if you were in a hopeless consumption, instead of being comfortably and hopefully in love." Moonshine is pleasant by way of variety. The Colosseum looks more grand by it than by daylight; so strangers visit it by moonlight. Our party did so. Lindsey, naturally and wisely, and in spite of his own diffidence, was the escort of Miss Richardson. In this architectural wilderness, overgrown with natural shrubbery, the party could not keep close together, but went in couples, and conversed accordingly. You may find in the Colosseum positions from which it seems almost unimpaired when viewed by moonlight, and its varied details are lost in masses of light and shade. It inspires hope of liberal improvement, when men like those whose genius and liberality reared the unrivalled monuments of antiquity shall assume the control of public affairs, that in modern times has been usurped by oligarchies of wire-pullers and peculators. It inspires hope of elevation of the human race, and adoration for the Creator of a race capable of glorious works. It seems as if the ancients expressed their religious sentiments in works that illustrate the highest faculties of man, and not in exercises calculated to secure personal benefits in a future state. tion that men have produced, the most impressive are these monuments of the beautiful and sublime. We may indeed have works of greater skill and power and utility, in a material sense; but when we reflect that these works are constructed purely for gain, and that the works of the ancients were purely for love of the beautiful, and a desire to aggrandize the nation, and benefit the peo ple, we are constrained to honor them more than we can honor the men of our own times who should lead in matters of this kind. The modern gentleman is sufficiently profuse in expense; he builds his palace with excess of decoration, and keeps costly equipages, but he indorses the of fensiveness of public structures that would have been intolerable to the poorest of the ancient Roman populace. Such reflections make the time short; and it was near midnight when the party returned from the contemplation of this magnificent structure. And in this way some weeks were passed, during which our idlers became well acquainted. They were indeed well known to each other by repu tation, before they met, and intimacy was easily formed. Of all objects of admira One morning Lindsey and Brooke were rambling together and comparing notes as follows: "It is agreed, then, that we spend the autumn in Sicily and the country near Naples, and the winter in Naples?" "If you are willing, Osgood proposes it; I, of course, desire to be of the party, Better sail from Liverpool about the middle of August." I would agree with you if my Julia were here. I am getting envious of you, and almost angry. Had it not been for the notion that a lady would be unaccordant with your bachelor movements and habits, I would have teased her until she consented to marry at once, and come with me. Now all we want is Julia to make this party just right. I wish I had not yielded to her excuses; if I hadn't, I should not now be in a hurry to return." "Well, Ned, you deserve to suffer for the notion that I should not have been glad of your wife's company, even if I had known nothing about her; and you deserve a still greater penance for acting on the mere notion that I should not be delighted with the company of one whom I have known and admired for years. Besides, all of us should see as much as we have time for, as we probably shall not come here again. We must return to Rome for a few weeks in the winter, and we should look at Genoa and other places. You can write fine letters to Julia, and if that will not content you, why, we will not blame you for deserting us, though it will be a loss on both sides." prenticeship with an intelligent and accomplished elderly lady before he gets married; it would save many awkward blunders. Any way, I think you may count on me for the whole tour, even if we don't return until August. But I am going to make you pay for it. I'm not going to cultivate acquaintances for a season. I mean to have a proper settlement when we get home; at least, you shall allow me to live in the neighborhood with you." "I have been dreaming about such an arrangement; in fact, Osgood and I have talked about a place of residence. He is not settled as he would like to be. I am not inclined to build on the ground I have bought; it is not just in the right place. You are free to choose. On the whole, it will be well for us to look around for a year after we return, and find some agreeable suburban region where we can keep up our acquaintance, and have others near us whose society is desirable." "You are a lucky and happy fellow, George. I shall be happy when I get home. I have my vision when I see you and your first romantic love together. Julia and I will be married at once; I wont wait; I will persuade her, and wont understand excuses. What's the use of 'em? I have enough to live upon and somewhat more, and wont lose it in trade or speculation. You and I will attend to our public duties, and prevent the mischief which political blacklegs have been brewing for thirty years. What a sin it is to have New York City in such a wretched condition, when there is wealth enough in it to make it more magnificent than Rome ever was! And if such men as you and I do not endeavor to civilize it, it will grow worse and worse until those who now endure it, in hope of gaining means to escape from it, will quit it in despair." Very well. I will bear my martyrdom. I am determined not to leave you to common doctors until you are beyond all danger. All is now going well with you, but I shall not be satisfied of your safety until you are married and housed on your own ground. I don't see why Mrs. Richardson is unwilling that you should be married here; but that is not for me to cavil about. She is a woman "I have no political ambition, my whose fancies I respect; just the sort of dear Brooke, and I have little hope; but a companion for a fellow who has a good lack of ambition and hope will not presweetheart at home. She'll get me into vent me from doing my duty. If I can civilized habits, so that Julia will love me in any way serve the public I will do so. all the better. By the way, I think I only wish that every temptation to of every man would do well to serve an ap-fice-seeking could be removed, so that only men who have the right motives would accept office. We might then hope to see well-mannered and intelligent and public-spirited men in office. "The tide must soon turn. The intention of the founders of our political system evidently has not been carried out at all of late years. They intended and hoped that the best men would be chosen to rule; but of late it is proclaimed by the political press that the American people do not want great men to govern them; they can govern themselves; and long ago the idea of getting honest rulers was given up. Naturally following, we have now dead-levelling agrarians coming up and setting up the basest of men in the highest places. Ruin is beginning to follow, and if there be little public spirit, and no sense of duty to the Supreme Ruler, and no trace of the liberality of the men who made Rome and Greece glorious, at least there is a keen perception of self-interest that will sometime arouse and unite tax-payers against the oligarchy of public robbers. If these chief sufferers ally themselves with men of genius and learning, they can overthrow the union of robbers; but if they attempt to found a party on mere wealth or real estate alone, they will not recover the influence they once had, but lost by their stupidity. An oligarchy founded on birth is out of the question for us; one founded on wealth is dreamed of, but it cannot stand alone; but a union of men of merit, of all kinds, to advise the public, is possible. In this union a man of wealth must have a place, unless disqualified by bad principles or manners; so men of learning and talent, and especially men of genius, must be admitted. It will not do to leave outside men of genius in literature, art, science, manufacture, trade, or any department, because the people will despise the party that does not possess nearly all the great, intellectual faculties." "My dear Brooke, I wish I could hope with you, but I have no hope; we have no liberal men, or not enough to influence the public. Those among us who are reported gentlemen are not of the kind of those who controlled public affairs in the ancient world. They have not been bred under the same influences; have not acquired the same principles, nor even heard the same doctrines. The ancient gentleman derived his ideas and feelings from the patriarchal age, when power was more or less hereditary, and reputation and influence remained in the descendants of the founders of States. They really loved the States and communities over which they were placed, and in which their pride and hopes were bound up. The public interest was their family interest; in fact, the word gentleman (from gens, a family) indicates something more than can be expected in men who rise by talent or luck or fraud from the mass of undistinguished people, and are glad to shake off their relatives, and stand distinguished only by the pomp which wealth can maintain. Such men love only themselves and their families in the modern sense; as for public spirit, they have none; instead of sympathy, they have generally strong antipathy for the multitude among whom they struggled and toiled and fought for independence, and I think the most decided oligarchists in our country are those men who were in their youth subject to the mortifications of poverty and obscurity, and were dead-levelling democratists. That they should think of public magnificence and glory, or of the beautiful, or anything but private ostentation, is not to be expected generally. Nor is it likely that the crowd from which they have arisen will accept their guidance in public affairs, or feel disposed to pay them homage, or even refrain from treating them as upstarts, and doing all they can to pull them down. Still, something can be done; it is possible; and while it is possible, it is every man's duty to labor for it. No man has a right to stand still in despair, because he is not certain of success." 66 Very well! I like the soldier who does his work, and does not flinch whenever he thinks the battle is hopeless. But I can pardon the coward who shrinks from death more readily than I can pardon the poltroon who sits by his fireside, and laments that ignorant and illiberal |