CHAPTER IV.
A DEEPER EXAMINATION INTO THE STUDENT'S HEART.--THE VISIT TO
THE CASTLE.--PHILOSOPHY PUT TO THE TRIAL.
I weigh not fortune's frown or smile,
I joy not much in earthly joys,
I seek not state, I seek not stile,
I am not fond of fancy's toys;
I rest so pleased with what I have,
I wish no more, no more I crave.
--Joshua Sylvester.
The reader must pardon me, if I somewhat clog his interest in my tale by
the brief conversations I have given, and must for a short while cast
myself on his indulgence and renew. It is not only the history of his
life, but the character and tone of Aram's mind, that I wish to stamp
upon my page. Fortunately, however, the path my story assumes is of such
a nature, that in order to effect this object, I shall never have to
desert, and scarcely again even to linger by, the way.
Every one knows the magnificent moral of Goethe's "Faust!" Every one
knows that sublime discontent--that chafing at the bounds of human
knowledge--that yearning for the intellectual Paradise beyond, which "the
sworded angel" forbids us to approach--that daring, yet sorrowful state
of mind--that sense of defeat, even in conquest, which Goethe has
embodied,--a picture of the loftiest grief of which the soul is capable,
and which may remind us of the profound and august melancholy which the
Great Sculptor breathed into the repose of the noblest of mythological
heroes, when he represented the God resting after his labours, as if more
convinced of their vanity than elated with their extent!
In this portrait, the grandeur of which the wild scenes that follow in
the drama we refer to, do not (strangely wonderful as they are) perhaps
altogether sustain, Goethe has bequeathed to the gaze of a calmer and
more practical posterity, the burning and restless spirit--the feverish
desire for knowledge more vague than useful, which characterised the
exact epoch in the intellectual history of Germany, in which the poem was
inspired and produced.
At these bitter waters, the Marah of the streams of Wisdom, the soul of
the man whom we have made the hero of these pages, had also, and not
lightly, quaffed. The properties of a mind, more calm and stern than
belonged to the visionaries of the Hartz and the Danube, might indeed
have preserved him from that thirst after the impossibilities of
knowledge, which gives so peculiar a romance, not only to the poetry, but
the philosophy of the German people. But if he rejected the
superstitions, he did not also reject the bewilderments of the mind. He
loved to plunge into the dark and metaphysical subtleties which human
genius has called daringly forth from the realities of things:--
"To spin
A shroud of thought, to hide him from the sun
Of this familiar life, which seems to be,
But is not--or is but quaint mockery
Of all we would believe;--or sadly blame
The jarring and inexplicable frame
Of this wrong world: and then anatomize
The purposes and thoughts of man, whose eyes
Were closed in distant years; or widely guess
The issue of the earth's great business,
When we shall be, as we no longer are,
Like babbling gossips, safe, who hear the war
Of winds, and sigh!--but tremble not!"
Much in him was a type, or rather forerunner, of the intellectual spirit
that broke forth when we were children, among our countrymen, and is now
slowly dying away amidst the loud events and absorbing struggles of the
awakening world. But in one respect he stood aloof from all his tribe--in
his hard indifference to worldly ambition, and his contempt of fame. As
some sages have seemed to think the universe a dream, and self the only
reality, so in his austere and collected reliance upon his own mind--the
gathering in, as it were, of his resources, he appeared to consider the
pomps of the world as shadows, and the life of his own spirit the only
substance. He had built a city and a tower within the Shinar of his own
heart, whence he might look forth, unscathed and unmoved, upon the deluge
that broke over the rest of earth.
Only in one instance, and that, as we have seen, after much struggle, he
had given way to the emotions that agitate his kind, and had surrendered
himself to the dominion of another. This was against his theories--but
what theories ever resist love? In yielding, however, thus far, he seemed
more on his guard than ever against a broader encroachment. He had
admitted one 'fair spirit' for his 'minister,' but it was only with a
deeper fervour to invoke 'the desert' as 'his dwelling-place.' Thus, when
the Earl, who, like most practical judges of mankind, loved to apply to
each individual the motives that actuate the mass, and who only
unwillingly, and somewhat sceptically, assented to the exceptions, and
was driven to search for peculiar clues to the eccentric instance,--
finding, to his secret triumph, that Aram had admitted one intruding
emotion into his boasted circle of indifference, imagined that he should
easily induce him (the spell once broken) to receive another, he was
surprised and puzzled to discover himself in the wrong.
Lord--at that time had been lately called into the administration, and he
was especially anxious to secure the support of all the talent that he
could enlist in its behalf. The times were those in which party ran high,
and in which individual political writings were honoured with an
importance which the periodical press in general has now almost wholly
monopolized. On the side opposed to Government, writers of great name and
high attainments had shone with peculiar effect, and the Earl was
naturally desirous that they should be opposed by an equal array of
intellect on the side espoused by himself. The name alone of Eugene Aram,
at a day when scholarship was renown, would have been no ordinary
acquisition to the cause of the Earl's party; but that judicious and
penetrating nobleman perceived that Aram's abilities, his various
research, his extended views, his facility of argument, and the heat and
energy of his eloquence, might be rendered of an importance which could
not have been anticipated from the name alone, however eminent, of a
retired and sedentary scholar; he was not therefore without an interested
motive in the attentions he now lavished upon the Student, and in his
curiosity to put to the proof the disdain of all worldly enterprise and
worldly temptation, which Aram affected. He could not but think, that to
a man poor and lowly of circumstance, conscious of superior acquirements,
about to increase his wants by admitting to them a partner, and arrived
at that age when the calculations of interest and the whispers of
ambition have usually most weight;--he could not but think that to such
a man the dazzling prospects of social advancement, the hope of the high
fortunes, and the powerful and glittering influence which political life,
in England, offers to the aspirant, might be rendered altogether
irresistible.
He took several opportunities in the course of the next week, of renewing
his conversation with Aram, and of artfully turning it into the channels
which he thought most likely to produce the impression he desired to
create. He was somewhat baffled, but by no means dispirited, in his
attempts; but he resolved to defer his ultimate proposition until it
could be made to the fullest advantage. He had engaged the Lesters to
promise to pass a day at the castle; and with great difficulty, and at
the earnest intercession of Madeline, Aram was prevailed upon to
accompany them. So extreme was his distaste to general society, and, from
some motive or another more powerful than mere constitutional reserve, so
invariably had he for years refused all temptations to enter it, that
natural as this concession was rendered by his approaching marriage to
one of the party, it filled him with a sort of terror and foreboding of
evil. It was as if he were passing beyond the boundary of some law, on
which the very tenure of his existence depended. After he had consented,
a trembling came over him; he hastily left the room, and till the day
arrived, was observed by his friends of the Manor-house to be more gloomy
and abstracted than they ever had known him, even at the earliest period
of acquaintance.
On the day itself, as they proceeded to the castle, Madeline perceived
with a tearful repentance of her interference, that he sate by her side
cold and rapt; and that once or twice when his eyes dwelt upon her, it
was with an expression of reproach and distrust.
It was not till they entered the lofty hall of the castle, when a vulgar
diffidence would have been most abashed, that Aram recovered himself. The
Earl was standing--the centre of a group in the recess of a window in the
saloon, opening upon an extensive and stately terrace. He came forward to
receive them with the polished and warm kindness which he bestowed upon
al his inferiors in rank. He complimented the sisters; he jested with
Lester; but to Aram only, he manifested less the courtesy of kindness
than of respect. He took his arm, and leaning on it with a light touch,
led him to the group at the window. It was composed of the most
distinguished public men in the country, and among them (the Earl himself
was connected through an illegitimate branch with the reigning monarch,)
was a prince of the blood royal.
To these, whom he had prepared for the introduction, he severally, and
with an easy grace, presented Aram, and then falling back a few steps, he
watched with a keen but seemingly careless eye, the effect which so
sudden a contact with royalty itself would produce on the mind of the shy
and secluded Student, whom it was his object to dazzle and overpower. It
was at this moment that the native dignity of Aram, which his studies,
unworldly as they were, had certainly tended to increase, displayed
itself, in a trial which, poor as it was in abstract theory, was far from
despicable in the eyes of the sensible and practised courtier. He
received with his usual modesty, but not with his usual shrinking and
embarrassment on such occasions, the compliments he received; a certain
and far from ungraceful pride was mingled with his simplicity of
demeanour; no fluttering of manner, betrayed that he was either dazzled
or humbled by the presence in which he stood, and the Earl could not but
confess that there was never a more favourable opportunity for comparing
the aristocracy of genius with that of birth; it was one of those homely
every-day triumphs of intellect, which please us more than they ought to
do, for, after all, they are more common than the men of courts are
willing to believe.
Lord--did not however long leave Aram to the support of his own
unassisted presence of mind and calmness of nerve; he advanced, and led
the conversation, with his usual tact, into a course which might at once
please Aram, and afford him the opportunity to shine. The Earl had
imported from Italy some of the most beautiful specimens of classic
sculpture which this country now possesses. These were disposed in niches
around the magnificent apartment in which the guest were assembled, and
as the Earl pointed them out, and illustrated each from the beautiful
anecdotes and golden allusions of antiquity, he felt that he was
affording to Aram a gratification he could never have experienced before;
and in the expression of which, the grace and copiousness of his learning
would find vent. Nor was he disappointed. The cheek, which till then had
retained its steady paleness, now caught the glow of enthusiasm; and in a
few moments there was not a person in the group, who did not feel, and
cheerfully feel, the superiority of the one who, in birth and fortune,
was immeasureably the lowest of all.
The English aristocracy, whatever be the faults of their education, (and
certainly the name of the faults is legion!) have at least the merit of
being alive to the possession, and easily warmed to the possessor, of
classical attainment: perhaps even from this very merit spring many of
the faults we allude to; they are too apt to judge all talent by a
classical standard, and all theory by classical experience. Without,--
save in very rare instances,--the right to boast of any deep learning,
they are far more susceptible than the nobility of any other nation to
the spiritum Camoenae. They are easily and willingly charmed back to the
studies which, if not eagerly pursued in youth, are still entwined with
all their youth's brightest recollections; the schoolboy's prize, and the
master's praise,--the first ambition, and its first reward. A felicitous
quotation, a delicate allusion, is never lost upon their ear; and the
veneration which at Eton they bore to the best verse-maker in the school,
tinctures their judgment of others throughout life, mixing I know not
what, both of liking and esteem, with their admiration of one who uses
his classical weapons with a scholar's dexterity, not a pedant's
inaptitude: for such a one there is a sort of agreeable confusion in
their respect; they are inclined, unconsciously, to believe that he must
necessarily be a high gentleman--ay, and something of a good fellow into
the bargain.
It happened then that Aram could not have dwelt upon a theme more likely
to arrest the spontaneous interest of those with whom he now conversed--
men themselves of more cultivated minds than usual, and more capable than
most (from that acute perception of real talent, which is produced by
habitual political warfare,) of appreciating not only his endowments, but
his facility in applying them.
"You are right, my Lord," said Sir--, the whipper-in of the--party,
taking the Earl aside; "he would be an inestimable pamphleteer."
"Could you get him to write us a sketch of the state of parties;
luminous, eloquent?'" whispered a lord of the bed-chamber.
The Earl answered by a bon mot, and turned to a bust of Caracalla.
The hours at that time were (in the country at least) not late, and the
Earl was one of the first introducers of the polished fashion of France,
by which we testify a preference of the society of the women to that of
our own sex; so that, in leaving the dining-room, it was not so late but
that the greater part of the guests walked out upon the terrace, and
admired the expanse of country which it overlooked, and along which the
thin veil of the twilight began now to hover.
Having safely deposited his royal guest at a whist table, and thus left
himself a free agent, the Earl, inviting Aram to join him, sauntered
among the loiterers on the terrace for a few moments, and then descended
a broad flight of steps, which brought them into a more shaded and
retired walk; on either side of which rows of orange-trees gave forth
their fragrance, while, to the right, sudden and numerous vistas were cut
among the more irregular and dense foliage, affording glimpses--now of
some rustic statue--now of some lone temple--now of some quaint fountain,
on the play of whose waters the first stars had begun to tremble.
It was one of those magnificent gardens, modelled from the stately
glories of Versailles, which it is now the mode to decry, but which
breathe so unequivocally of the Palace. I grant that they deck Nature
with somewhat too prolix a grace; but is beauty always best seen in
deshabille? And with what associations of the brightest traditions
connected with Nature they link her more luxuriant loveliness! Must we
breathe only the malaria of Rome to be capable of feeling the interest
attached to the fountain or the statue?
"I am glad," said the Earl, "that you admired my bust of Cicero--it is
from an original very lately discovered. What grandeur in the brow!--
what energy in the mouth, and downward bend of the head! It is pleasant
even to imagine we gaze upon the likeness of so bright a spirit;--and
confess, at least of Cicero, that in reading the aspirations and
outpourings of his mind, you have felt your apathy to Fame melting away;
you have shared the desire to live to the future age,--'the longing after
immortality?"
"Was it not that longing," replied Aram, "which gave to the character of
Cicero its poorest and most frivolous infirmity? Has it not made him,
glorious as he is despite of it, a byword in the mouths of every
schoolboy? Wherever you mention his genius, do you not hear an appendix
on his vanity?"
"Yet without that vanity, that desire for a name with posterity, would he
have been equally great--would he equally have cultivated his genius?"
"Probably, my Lord, he would not have equally cultivated his genius, but
in reality he might have been equally great. A man often injures his mind
by the means that increase his genius. You think this, my Lord, a
paradox, but examine it. How many men of genius have been but ordinary
men, take them from the particular objects in which they shine. Why is
this, but that in cultivating one branch of intellect they neglect the
rest? Nay, the very torpor of the reasoning faculty has often kindled the
imaginative. Lucretius composed his sublime poem under the influence of a
delirium. The susceptibilities that we create or refine by the pursuit of
one object, weaken our general reason; and I may compare with some
justice the powers of the mind to the faculties of the body, in which
squinting is occasioned by an inequality of strength in the eyes, and
discordance of voice by the same inequality in the ears."
"I believe you are right," said the Earl; "yet I own I willingly forgive
Cicero for his vanity, if it contributed to the production of his
orations and his essays; and he is a greater man, even with his vanity
unconquered, than if he had conquered his foible, and in doing so taken
away the incitements to his genius."
"A greater man in the world's eye, my Lord, but scarcely in reality. Had
Homer written his Iliad and then burnt it, would his genius have been
less? The world would have known nothing of him, but would he have been a
less extraordinary man on that account? We are too apt, my Lord, to
confound greatness and fame.
"There is one circumstance," added Aram, after a pause, "that should
diminish our respect for renown. Errors of life, as well as foibles of
characters, are often the real enhancers of celebrity. Without his
errors, I doubt whether Henri Quatre would have become the idol of a
people. How many Whartons has the world known, who, deprived of their
frailties, had been inglorious! The light that you so admire, reaches you
only through the distance of time, on account of the angles and
unevenness of the body whence it emanates. Were the surface of the moon
smooth, it would be invisible."
"I admire your illustrations," said the Earl; "but I reluctantly submit
to your reasonings. You would then neglect your powers, lest they should
lead you into errors?"
"Pardon me, my Lord; it is because I think all the powers should be
cultivated, that I quarrel with the exclusive cultivation of one. And it
is only because I would strengthen the whole mind that I dissent from the
reasonings of those who tell you to consult your genius."
"But your genius may serve mankind more than this general cultivation of
intellect?"
"My Lord," replied Aram, with a mournful cloud upon his countenance;
"that argument may have weight with those who think mankind can be
effectually served, though they may be often dazzled, by the labours of
an individual. But, indeed, this perpetual talk of 'mankind' signifies
nothing: each of us consults his proper happiness, and we consider him a
madman who ruins his own peace of mind by an everlasting fretfulness of
philanthropy."
This was a doctrine that half pleased, half displeased the Earl--it
shadowed forth the most dangerous notions which Aram entertained.
"Well, well," said the noble host, as, after a short contest on the
ground of his guest's last remark, they left off where they began, "Let
us drop these general discussions: I have a particular proposition to
unfold. We have, I trust, Mr. Aram, seen enough of each other, to feel
that we can lay a sure foundation for mutual esteem. For my part, I own
frankly, that I have never met with one who has inspired me with a
sincerer admiration. I am desirous that your talents and great learning
should be known in the widest sphere. You may despise fame, but you must
permit your friends the weakness to wish you justice, and themselves
triumph. You know my post in the present administration--the place of my
secretary is one of great trust--some influence, and large emolument. I
offer it to you--accept it, and you will confer upon me an honour and an
obligation. You will have your own separate house, or apartments in mine,
solely appropriated to your use. Your privacy will never be disturbed.
Every arrangement shall be made for yourself and your bride, that either
of you can suggest. Leisure for your own pursuits you will have, too, in
abundance--there are others who will perform all that is toilsome in your
office. In London, you will see around you the most eminent living men of
all nations, and in all pursuits. If you contract, (which believe me is
possible--it is a tempting game,) any inclination towards public life,
you will have the most brilliant opportunities afforded you, and I
foretell you the most signal success. Stay yet one moment:--for this you
will owe me no thanks. Were I not sensible that I consult my own
interests in this proposal, I should be courtier enough to suppress it."
"My Lord," said Aram, in a voice which, in spite of its calmness,
betrayed that he was affected, "it seldom happens to a man of my secluded
habits, and lowly pursuits, to have the philosophy he affects put to so
severe a trial. I am grateful to you--deeply grateful for an offer so
munificent--so undeserved. I am yet more grateful that it allows me to
sound the strength of my own heart, and to find that I did not too highly
rate it. Look, my Lord, from the spot where we now stand" (the moon had
risen, and they had now returned to the terrace): "in the vale below, and
far among those trees, lies my home. More than two years ago, I came
thither, to fix the resting-place of a sad and troubled spirit. There
have I centered all my wishes and my hopes; and there may I breathe my
last! My Lord, you will not think me ungrateful, that my choice is made;
and you will not blame my motive, though you may despise my wisdom."
"But," said the Earl astonished, "you cannot foresee all the advantages
you would renounce. At your age--with your intellect--to choose the
living sepulchre of a hermitage--it was wise to reconcile yourself to it,
but not to prefer it! Nay, nay; consider--pause. I am in no haste for
your decision; and what advantages have you in your retreat, that you
will not possess in a greater degree with me? Quiet?--I pledge it to you
under my roof. Solitude?--you shall have it at your will. Books?--what
are those which you, which any individual possesses, to the public
institutions, the magnificent collections, of the metropolis? What else
is it you enjoy yonder, and cannot enjoy with me?"
"Liberty!" said Aram energetically.--"Liberty! the wild sense of
independence. Could I exchange the lonely stars and the free air, for the
poor lights and feverish atmosphere of worldly life? Could I surrender my
mood, with its thousand eccentricities and humours--its cloud and shadow-
-to the eyes of strangers, or veil it from their gaze by the irksomeness
of an eternal hypocrisy? No, my Lord! I am too old to turn disciple to
the world! You promise me solitude and quiet. What charm would they have
for me, if I felt they were held from the generosity of another? The
attraction of solitude is only in its independence. You offer me the
circle, but not the magic which made it holy. Books! They, years since,
would have tempted me; but those whose wisdom I have already drained,
have taught me now almost enough: and the two Books, whose interest can
never be exhausted--Nature and my own Heart--will suffice for the rest of
life. My Lord, I require no time for consideration."
"And you positively refuse me?"
"Gratefully refuse you."
The Earl walked peevishly away for one moment; but it was not in his
nature to lose himself for more.
"Mr. Aram," said he frankly, and holding out his hand; "you have chosen
nobly, if not wisely; and though I cannot forgive you for depriving me of
such a companion, I thank you for teaching me such a lesson. Henceforth,
I will believe, that philosophy may exist in practice; and that a
contempt for wealth and for honours, is not the mere profession of
discontent. This is the first time, in a various and experienced life,
that I have found a man sincerely deaf to the temptations of the world,--
and that man of such endowments! If ever you see cause to alter a theory
that I still think erroneous, though lofty--remember me; and at all
times, and on all occasions," he added, with a smile, "when a friend
becomes a necessary evil, call to mind our starlit walk on the castle
terrace."
Aram did not mention to Lester, or even Madeline, the above conversation.
The whole of the next day he shut himself up at home; and when he again
appeared at the Manor-house, he heard with evident satisfaction that the
Earl had been suddenly summoned on state affairs to London.
There was an unaccountable soreness in Aram's mind, which made him feel a
resentment--a suspicion against all who sought to lure him from his
retreat. "Thank Heaven!" thought he, when he heard of the Earl's
departure; "we shall not meet for another year!" He was mistaken.--
Another year!
