Romance and Reality
"I met with a most splendid girl last evening," remarked to hisfriend a young man, whose fine, intellectual forehead, and clearbright eye, gave indications of more than ordinary mentalendowments."Who is she?" was the friend's brief question."Her name is Adelaide Merton. Have you ever seen her?""No, but I have often heard of the young lady.""As a girl of more than ordinary intelligence?""O yes. Don't you remember the beautiful little gems of poetry thatused to appear in the Gazette, under the signature of Adelaide?""Very well. Some of them were exquisite, and all indicative of afine mind. Was she their author?""So I have been told.""I can very readily believe it; for never have I met with a womanwho possessed such a brilliant intellect. Her power of expression isalmost unbounded. Her sentences are perfect pictures of the scenesshe describes. If she speaks of a landscape, not one of its mostminute features is lost, nor one of the accessories to itsperfection as a whole overlooked. And so of every thing else, in thehigher regions of the intellect, or in the lower forms of nature.For my own part, I was lost in admiration of her qualities. She willyet shine in the world."The young man who thus expressed himself in regard to AdelaideMerton, was named Charles Fenwick. He possessed a brilliant mind,which had been well stored. But his views of life were altogetherperverted and erroneous, and his ends deeply tinctured with the loveof distinction, for its own sake. A few tolerably successfulliterary efforts, had been met by injudicious over praise, leadinghim to the vain conclusion that his abilities were of so high acharacter, that no field of action was for him a worthy one that hadany thing to do with what he was pleased to term the ordinarygrovelling pursuits of life. Of course, all mere mechanicaloperations were despised, and as a natural consequence, the men whowere engaged in them. So with merchandizing, and also with thevarious branches of productive enterprise. They were mere ministersof the base physical wants of our nature. His mind took in higheraims than these!His father was a merchant in moderate circumstances, engaged in acalling which was of course despised by the son, notwithstanding hewas indebted to his father's constant devotion to that calling forhis education, and all the means of comfort and supposed distinctionthat he enjoyed. The first intention of the elder Mr. Fenwick hadbeen to qualify his son, thoroughly, for the calling of a merchant,that he might enter into business with him and receive the benefitsof his experience and facilities in trade. But about the age ofseventeen, while yet at college, young Fenwick made the unfortunatediscovery that he could produce a species of composition which hecalled poetry. His efforts were praised--and this induced him to goon; until he learned the art of tolerably smooth versification. Thiswould all have been well enough had he not imagined himself to be,in consequence, of vastly increased importance. Stimulated by thisidea, he prosecuted his collegiate studies with renewed diligence,storing a strong and comprehensive mind with facts and principles inscience and philosophy, that would have given him, in after life, noordinary power of usefulness as a literary and professional man, hadnot his selfish ends paralysed and perverted the natural energies ofa good intellect.The father's intention of making him a merchant was, of course,opposed by the son, who chose one of the learned profession as morehonorable--not more useful; a profession that would give himdistinction--not enable him to fill his right place in society. Inthis he was gratified. At the time of his introduction to thereader, he was known as a young physician without a patient. He hadgraduated, but had not yet seen any occasion for taking an office,as his father's purse supplied all his wants. His pursuits weremainly literary--consisting of essays and reviews for some of theperiodicals intermixed with a liberal seasoning of pretty fairrhymes which rose occasionally to the dignity of poetry--or, as hesupposed, to the lofty strains of a Milton or a Dante. Occasionallya lecture before some literary association brought his name into thenewspapers in connection with remarks that kindled his vanity into aflame. Debating clubs afforded another field for display, and hemade liberal use of the facility. So much for Charles Fenwick.Of Adelaide Merton, we may remark, that she was just the kind of awoman to captivate a young man of Fenwick's character. She was showyin her style of conversation, but exceedingly superficial. Herreading consisted principally of poetry and the popular lightliterature of the day, with a smattering of history. She couldrepeat, in quite an attractive style, many fine passages from Homer,Virgil, Milton, Shakspeare, Pope, Byron, Shelley, Coleridge, and ahost of lesser lights in the poetic hemisphere--and could quote fromand criticise the philosophy and style of Bulwer with the mostedifying self-satisfaction imaginable--not to enumerate her manyother remarkable characteristics.A second visit to Adelaide confirmed the first favorable impressionmade upon the mind of Fenwick. At the third visit he was half inlove with her, and she more than half in love with him. A fourthinterview completed the work on both sides. At the fifth, thefollowing conversation terminated the pleasant intercourse of theevening. They were seated on a sofa, and had been talking of poetry,and birds, and flowers, green fields, and smiling landscapes, and adozen other things not necessary to be repeated at present. A pauseof some moments finally succeeded, and each seemed deeply absorbedin thought."Adelaide," at length the young man said in a low, musical tone,full of richness and pathos--"Do you not feel, sometimes, when yourmind rises into the region of pure thoughts, and ranges free amongthe beautiful and glorious images that then come and go like angelvisitants, a sense of loneliness, because another cannot share whatbrings to you such exquisite delight?""Yes--often and often," replied the maiden lifting her eyes to thoseof Fenwick, and gazing at him with a tender expression."And yet few there are, Adelaide, few indeed who could share suchelevating pleasures.""Few, indeed," was the response."Pardon me, for saying," resumed the young man, "that to you I havebeen indebted for such added delights. Rarely, indeed, have I beenable to find, especially among your gentler sex, one who could risewith me into the refining, elevating, exquisite pleasures of theimagination. But you have seemed fully to appreciate my sentiments,and fully to sympathize with them."To this Adelaide held down her head for a moment or two, theposition causing the blood to deepen in her cheeks and forehead.Then looking up with an expression of lofty poetic feeling shesaid--"And, until I met you, Mr. Fenwick, I must be frank in saying, thatI have known no one, whose current of thought and feeling--no onewhose love of the beautiful in the ideal or natural--has seemed soperfect a reflection of my own."To this followed another pause, longer and more thoughtful than thefirst. It was at length broken by Fenwick, who said, in a voice thattrembled perceptibly."I have an inward consciousness, that sprung into activity when thefirst low murmur of your voice fell upon my ear, that you were to mea kindred spirit. Since that moment, this consciousness has growndaily more and more distinct, and now I feel impelled, by a movementwhich I cannot resist, to declare its existence. First parden thisfreedom, Adelaide, and then say if you understand and appreciatewhat I have uttered in all frankness and sincerity?"Not long did our young friend wait for an answer that made himhappier than he had ever been in his life--happy in the firstthrilling consciousness of love deeply and fervently reciprocated.To both of them, there was a degree of romance about this briefcourtship that fully accorded with their views of love truly socalled. The ordinary cold matter-of-fact way of coming together,including a cautious and even at times a suspicious investigation ofcharacter, they despised as a mere mockery of the high, spontaneousconfidence which those who are truly capable of loving, feel in eachother--a confidence which nothing can shake. And thus did theypledge themselves without either having thought of the other's moralqualities; or either of them having formed any distinct ideas inregard to the true nature of the marriage relation.A few months sufficed to comsummate their union, when, in accordancewith the gay young couple's desire, old Mr. Fenwick furnished themout handsomely, at a pretty heavy expense, in an establishment oftheir own. As Charles Fenwick had not, heretofore, shown anyinclination to enter upon the practice of the profession he hadchosen, his father gently urged upon him the necessity of now doingso. But the idea of becoming a practical doctor, was one thatCharles could not abide. He had no objection to the title, for thatsounded quite musical to his ear; but no farther than that did hisfancy lead him."Why didn't I choose the law as a profession?" he would sometimessay to his young wife. "Then I might have shone. But to bury myselfas a physician, stealing about from house to house, and moping oversick beds, is a sacrifice of my talents that I cannot think ofwithout turning from the picture with disgust.""Nor can I," would be the wife's reply. "And what is more, I neverwill consent to such a perversion of your talents.""Why cannot you study law, even now, Charles?" she asked of him oneday. "With your acquirements, and habits of thought, I am sure youwould soon be able to pass an examination.""I think that is a good suggestion, Adelaide," her husband replied,thoughtfully. "I should only want a year or eighteen months forpreparation, and then I could soon place myself in the front rank ofthe profession."The suggestion of Charles Fenwick's wife was promptly adopted. Acourse of legal studies was entered upon, and completed in about twoyears. Up to this time, every thing had gone on with our youngcouple as smoothly as a summer sea. A beautifully furnished house,well kept through the attention of two or three servants, gave totheir indoor enjoyments a very important accessory. For money therewas no care, as the elder Mr. Fenwick's purse-strings relaxed asreadily to the hand of Charles as to his own. A pleasant round ofintelligent company, mostly of a literary character, with a fullsupply of all the new publications and leading periodicals of theday, kept their minds elevated into the region of intellectualenjoyments, and caused them still more to look down upon theordinary pursuits of life as far beneath them.But all this could not last forever. On the day Charles was admittedto the bar, he received a note from his father, requesting animmediate interview. He repaired at once to his counting room, inanswer to the parental summons."Charles," said the old man, when they were alone, "I have, up tothis time, supplied all your wants, and have done it cheerfully. Inorder to prepare you for taking your right place in society, I havespared no expense in your education, bearing you, after your term ofcollege life had expired, through two professional courses, so that,as either a physician or a lawyer, you are fully equal to the taskof sustaining yourself and family. As far as I am concerned, thetide of prosperity has evidently turned against me. For two years, Ihave felt myself gradually going back, instead of forward,notwithstanding my most earnest struggles to maintain at least theposition already gained. To-day, the notice of a heavy losscompletes my inability to bear the burden of your support, and thatof my own family. You must, therefore, Charles, enter the world foryourself, and there struggle as I have done, and as all do aroundyou, for a living. But, as I know that it will be impossible for youto obtain sufficient practice at once in either law or medicine tomaintain yourself, I will spare you out of my income, which will nowbe small in comparison to what it has been, four hundred dollars ayear, for the next two years. You must yourself make up thedeficiency, and no doubt you can easily do so.""But, father," replied the young man, his face turning pale, "Icannot, possibly, make up the deficiency. Our rent alone, you know,is four hundred dollars.""I am aware of that, Charles. But what then? You must get a house atone half that rent, and reduce your style of living, proportionably,in other respects.""What! And compromise my standing in society? I can never do that,father.""Charles," said the old man, looking at his son with a sternercountenance than he had ever yet put on when speaking to him,"remember that you have no standing in society which you can trulycall your own. I have, heretofore, held you up, and now that mysustaining hand is about to be withdrawn, you must fall or rise toyour own level. And I am satisfied, that the sooner you arepermitted to do so the better."The fact was, that the selfish, and to old Mr. Fenwick, theheartless manner in which Charles had received the communication ofhis changed circumstances, had wounded him exceedingly, and suddenlyopened his eyes to the false relation which his son was holding tosociety."You certainly cannot be in earnest, father," the son replied, aftera few moments of hurried and painful thought, "in declaring yourintention of throwing me off with a meagre pittance of four hundreddollars, before I have had a chance to do any thing for myself. Howcan I possibly get along on that sum?""I do not expect you to live on that, Charles. But the differenceyou will have to make up yourself. You have talents andacquirements. Bring them into useful activity, and you will needlittle of my assistance. As for me, as I have already told you, thetide of success is against me, and I am gradually moving down thestream. Four hundred dollars is the extent of what I can give you,and how long the ability to do that may last, Heaven only knows."Reluctantly the young couple were compelled to give up theirelegantly arranged dwelling, and move into a house of about one halfof its dimensions. In this there was a fixed, cold, common placereality, that shocked the sensibilities of both even thoughthroughout the progress of the change, each had remained passive inthe hands of the elder Mr. and Mrs. Fenwick, who had to choose thema house, and attend to all the arrangements of moving and refittingthe new home. For Charles to have engaged in the vulgar business ofmoving household furniture, would have been felt as a disgrace;--andas for Adelaide, she didn't know how to do any thing in regard tothe matter, and even if she had, would have esteemed such anemployment as entirely beneath her.While the packing up was going on under the direction of herhusband's mother, Adelaide, half dressed, with an elegant shawlthrown carelessly about her shoulders, her feet drawn up and herbody reclining upon a sofa, was deeply buried in the last new novel,while her babe lay in the arms of a nurse, who was thus preventedfrom rendering any assistance to those engaged in preparing thefurniture for removal. As for her husband, he was away, in someprofessional friend's office, holding a learned discussion upon therelative merits of Byron and Shelley.After the removal had been accomplished, and the neat littledwelling put, as the elder Mrs. Fenwick termed it, into "apple-pieorder" the following conversation took place between her and herdaughter-in-law."Adelaide, it will now be necessary for you to let both your nurseand chambermaid go. Charles cannot possibly afford the expense, asthings now are.""Let my nurse and chambermaid go!" exclaimed Adelaide, with a lookand tone of profound astonishment."Certainly, Adelaide," was the firm reply. "You cannot now afford tokeep three servants.""But how am I to get along without them? You do not, certainly,suppose that I can be my own nurse and chambermaid?""With your small family," was Mrs. Fenwick's reply, "you can readilyhave the assistance of your cook for a portion of the morning inyour chamber and parlors. And as to the nursing part, I should thinkthat you would desire no higher pleasure than having all the care ofdear little Anna. I was always my own nurse, and never hadassistance beyond that of a little girl.""It's no use to speak in that way, mother; I cannot do without anurse," said Adelaide, bursting into tears. "I couldn't even dressthe baby.""The sooner you learn, child, the better," was the persevering replyof Mrs. Fenwick.But Adelaide had no idea of dispensing with either nurse orchambermaid, both of whom were retained in spite of theremonstrances and entreaties of the mother-in-law.Driven to the absolute necessity of doing so, Charles Fenwick openedan office, and advertised for business. Those who have attempted tomake their way, at first, in a large city, at the bar, can wellunderstand the disappointment and chagrin of Fenwick on finding thathe did not rise at once to distinction, as he had fondly imagined hewould, when he turned his attention, with strong reasons fordesiring success, to the practice of his profession. A few pettycases, the trifling fees of which he rejected as of noconsideration, were all that he obtained during the first threemonths. At the end of this time he found himself in debt to thebaker, butcher, milkman, tailor, dry-goods merchants, and to thethree servants still pertinaciously retained by his wife.--And, as aclimax to the whole, his father's business was brought to atermination by bankruptcy, and the old man, in the decline of life,with still a large family dependent upon him for support, thrownupon the world, to struggle, almost powerless, for a subsistence.Fortunately, the Presidency of an Insurance Company was tenderedhim, with a salary of fifteen hundred dollars per annum. On this hecould barely support those dependent upon him, leaving Charles thewhole task of maintaining himself, his wife, and their child.To be dunned for money was more than the young man could endure withany kind of patience. But creditor tradesmen had no nice scruples inregard to these matters, and duns came, consequently, thick andfast, until poor Charles was irritated beyond measure. Cold, andsometimes impatient, and half insulting answers to applications formoney, were not to be endured by the eager applicants for what wasjustly their own. Warrants soon followed, as a matter of course,which had to be answered by a personal appearance before citymagistrates, thus causing the infliction of a deeper mortificationthan had yet assailed him. Added to these came the importunities ofhis landlord, which was met by a response which was deemedinsulting, and then came a distraint for rent. The due bill of thefather, saved the son this utter prostration and disgrace.The effect of all this, was to drive far away from their dwellingthe sweet angel of peace and contentment. Fretted and troubleddeeply in regard to his present condition and future prospects,Charles had no smiling words for his wife. This, of course, painedher deeply. But she readily found relief from present reality in theworld of pure romance. The more powerful fictions of the day,especially the highly wrought idealities of Bulwer, and those of hisclass, introduced her into a world above that in which shedwelt,--and there she lingered the greatest portion of her time,unconscious of the calls of duty, or the claims of affection.A single year sufficed to break them up entirely. Expenses farbeyond their income, which rose to about three hundred dollarsduring the first year of Charles' practice at the bar, broughtwarrants and executions, which the father had no power to stay. Tosatisfy these, furniture and library had to be sold, and Charles andhis wife, child and nurse, which latter Adelaide would retain, werethrown upon old Mr. Fenwick, for support.For four years did they remain a burden upon the father, duringwhich time, unstimulated to exertion by pressing necessities,Charles made but little progress as a lawyer. Petty cases hedespised, and generally refused to undertake, and those of moreimportance were not trusted to one who had yet to prove himselfworthy of a high degree of legal confidence. At the end of that timeboth his father and mother were suddenly removed to the world ofspirits, and he was again thrown entirely upon his own resources.With no one now to check them in any thing Charles and his wife,after calculating the results of the next year's legal efforts, feltfully justfied in renting a handsome house, and furnishing it oncredit. The proceeds of the year's practice rose but little abovefour hundred dollars, and at its conclusion they found themselvesinvolved in a new debt of three thousand dollars. Then came anotherbreaking up, with all of its harrowing consequences--consequenceswhich to persons of their habits and mode of thinking, are so deeplymortifying,--followed by their shrinking away, with a meagre remnantof their furniture, into a couple of rooms, in an obscure part ofthe town."Adelaide," said the husband, one morning, as he roused himself froma painful reverie."Well, what do you want?" she asked abstractedly, lifting her eyeswith reluctant air from the pages of a novel."I want to talk to you for a little while; so shut your book, if youplease.""Won't some other time do as well? I have just got into the middleof a most interesting scene.""No--I wish to talk with you now.""Well, say on," the wife rejoined, closing the book in her hand,with her thumb resting upon the page that still retained herthoughts, and assuming an attitude of reluctant attention."There is a school vacant at N----, some twenty miles from the city.The salary is eight hundred dollars a year, with a house and gardenincluded. I can get the situation, if I will accept of it.""And sink to the condition of a miserable country pedagogue?""And support my family comfortably and honestly," Fenwick replied ina tone of bitterness."Precious little comfort will your family experience immured in anobscure country village, without a single congenial associate. Whatin the name of wonder has put that into your head?""Adelaide! I cannot succeed at the bar--at least, not for years. Ofthat I am fully satisfied. It is absolutely necessary, therefore,that I should turn my attention to something that will supply thepressing demands of my family.""But surely you can get into something better than the office ofschoolmaster, to the sons of clodpoles.""Name something.""I'm sure I cannot tell. That is a matter for you to think about,"and so saying, Mrs. Fenwick re-opened her book, and commenced poringagain over the pages of the delightful work she held in her hand.Irritated, and half disgusted at this, a severe reproof trembled onhis tongue, but he suppressed it. In a few minutes after he arose,and left the apartment without his wife seeming to notice themovement."Good morning, Mr. Fenwick!" said a well known individual, cominginto the lawyer's office a few minutes after he had himself entered."That trial comes on this afternoon at four o'clock.""Well, John, I can't help it. The debt is a just one, but I have nomeans of meeting it now.""Try, and do so if you can, Mr. Fenwick, for the plaintiff is a gooddeal irritated about the matter, and will push the thing toextremities.""I should be sorry for that. But if so, let him use his ownpleasure. Take nothing from nothing, and nothing remains.""You had better come then with security, Mr. Fenwick, for my ordersare, to have an execution issued against your person, as soon as thecase is decided.""You are not in earnest, John?" suddenly ejaculated the lawyer,rising to his feet, and looking at the humble minister of the lawwith a pale cheek and quivering lip. "Surely Mr.----is not going topush matters to so uncalled-for an extremity!""Such, he positively declares, is his fixed determination. So holdyourself prepared, sir, to meet even this unpleasant event."The debt for which the warrant had been issued against Mr. Fenwick,amounted to ninety dollars.The whole of the remaining part of that day was spent in the effortto obtain security in the case. But in vain. His friends knew toowell his inability to protect them from certain loss, should theystep between him and the law. Talents, education, brilliantaddresses, fine poetry "and all that," turned to no good and usefulends, he found availed him nothing now. Even many of those with whomhe had been in intimate literary association, shrunk away from thepenniless individual, and those who did not actually shun him hadlost much of their former cordiality.The idea of being sent to jail for debt, was to him a terrible one.And he turned from it with a sinking at the heart. He said nothingto Adelaide on returning home in the evening, for the high communionof spirit, in which they had promised themselves such deep andexquisite delight, had long since given place to coldness, and astate of non-sympathy. He found her deeply buried, as usual, in somevolume of romance, while every thing around her was in disorder, andfull of unmitigated realities. They were living alone in two smallrooms, and the duty of keeping them in order and providing theirfrugal meals devolved as a heavy task upon Adelaide--so heavy, thatshe found it utterly impossible to do it justice.The fire--that essential preliminary to household operations--hadnot even been made, when Fenwick reached home, and the dinner tableremained still on the floor, with its unwashed dishes strewn overit, in admirable confusion.With a sigh, Adelaide resigned her book, soon after her husband camein, and commenced preparations for the evening meal. This was soonready, and despatched in silence, except so far as the aimlessprattle of their little girl interrupted it. Tea over, Mrs. Fenwickput Anna to bed, much against her will, and then drew up to thetable again with her book.Cheerless and companionless did her husband feel as he let his eyefall upon her, buried in selfish enjoyment, while his own heart waswrung with the bitterest recollections and the most heart-sickeninganticipations.Thoughts of the gaming table passed through his mind, and with thethought he placed his hand involuntarily upon his pocket. It wasempty. Sometimes his mind would rise into a state of vigorousactivity, with the internal consciousness of a power to do anything. But, alas--it was strength without skill--intellectual powerwithout the knowledge to direct it aright.Late on the next morning he arose from a pillow that had beenblessed with but little sleep, and that unrefreshing. It was pasteleven o'clock before Adelaide had breakfast on the table. Thisover, she, without even dressing Anna or arranging her own personsat down to her novel, while he gave himself to the most gloomy anddesponding reflections. He feared to go out lest the first man heshould meet, should prove an officer with an execution upon hisperson.About one o'clock, sick and weary of such a comfortless home, hewent out, glad of any change. Ten steps from his own door, he wasmet by a constable who conveyed him to prison.Several hours passed before his crushed feelings were arousedsufficiently to cause him even to think of any means of extrication.When his mind did act, it was with clearness, vigor, and decision.The walls of a jail had something too nearly like reality aboutthem, to leave much of the false sentiment which had hitherto marredhis prospects in life. There was, too, something deeply humiliatingin his condition of an imprisoned debtor."What shall I do?" he asked himself, towards the close of the day,with a strong resolution to discover the best course of action, andto pursue that course, unswayed by any extraneous influences. Thethought of his wife came across his mind."Shall I send her word where I am?"--A pause of some momentssucceeded this question."No," he at length said, half aloud, while an expression of painflitted over his countenance. "It is of little consequence to herwhere I am or what I suffer. She is, I believe, perfectlyheartless."But Fenwick was mistaken in this. She needed, as well as himself,some powerful shock to awaken her to true consciousness. That shockproved to be the knowledge of her husband's imprisonment for debt,which she learned early on the next morning, after the passage of ananxious and sleepless night, full of strange forebodings ofapproaching evil. She repaired, instantly, to the prison, her heartmelted down into true feeling. The interview between herself andhusband was full of tenderness, bringing out from each heart themutual affections which had been sleeping there, alas! too long.But one right course presented itself to the mind of either of them,and that was naturally approved by both, as the only proper one. Itwas for Fenwick to come out of prison under the act of insolvency,and thus free himself from the trammels of past obligations, whichcould not possibly be met.This was soon accomplished, the requisite security for his personalappearance to interrogatories being readily obtained."And now, Adelaide, what is to be done?" he asked of his wife, as hesat holding her hand in his, during the first hour of his releasefrom imprisonment. His own mind had already decided--still he wasanxious for her suggestion, if she had any to make."Can you still obtain that school you spoke of?" she asked with muchinterest in her tone."Yes. The offer is still open.""Then take it, Charles, by all means. One such lesson as we havehad, is enough for a life time. Satisfied am I, now, that we havenot sought for happiness in the right paths."The school was accordingly taken, and with humbled feelings, modestexpectations, and a mutual resolution to be satisfied with little,did Charles Fenwick and his wife re-commence the world at the bottomof the ladder. That he was sincere in his new formed resolutions, isevident from the fact, that in a few years he became the principalof a popular literary institution, for which office he was fullyqualified. She, too, learned, by degrees, to act well her part inall her relations, social and domestic--and now finds far morepleasure in the realities, than she ever did in the romance of life.
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