This is a good illustration of man’s life on earth. He is never satisfied nor contented. The shallow pool of stagnated water never satisfies his longings for a deeper and broader life. And finally he goes away into the night of darkness, and the winds of mystery blow the sands of oblivion over his tracks, and no one knows whither he went. And the living sit at the pool and look out over the desert of life and wonder, and wonder, and grow more and more dissatisfied and say to themselves: “This life is so unsatisfactory and barren of real pleasure—there must be sweeter and purer water away over yonder.”
A PALACE WITHOUT LOVE
The divorce trial of a handsome young woman and her wealthy husband, brings up the story of her early environment and her unfortunate mother’s disappointed life. The woman now seeking a divorce was reared in the midst of matrimonial unrest and social misery—what other ending could the world expect in her own case? Where the union is not purely a union of heart and soul, a harmony of taste and temperament, where the souls are not tuned to respond to the same vibrations, conjugal happiness is simply impossible.
The mother of this woman in the divorce court was once a beautiful Irish girl, the daughter of a man who kept a small crockery store in Philadelphia. His store was located around the corner from the aristocratic neighborhood, where the scions of the old Quaker families reside in magnificent palaces. Sometimes a few of them would condescend to stop at the modest shop and make a purchase, but the liveried negro servants came more frequently to make the purchases desired by their masters. At such times they would sit and gossip with the Irish merchant and his wife about their aristocratic and proud employers.
These conversations with the servants revealed the great social chasm existing between the humble shop people and the wealthy aristocrats living just around the corner. The shopman’s eldest daughter, a beautiful girl of sixteen, listened to the tales told by the liveried servants of the rich, and a longing grew daily stronger in her humble soul to become rich and aristocratic some day, too. She cared not by what means. She only thought of the glorious end of the road leading up to one of these magnificent palaces, and gave no thought to the mud and the mire and the dangerous chasms to cross before arriving at the end of all this golden glory and glitter of gilded gladness. She dreamed of it night and day. Her pure soul became sordid and hard with an ambition that was ever in her dreams. On the street where the shop was located, students bound for the University of Pennsylvania would pass daily, and among them were a number of young aristocrats, exquisitely attired, with their coats thrown back to display their jeweled fraternity pins. As time went on, the daughter of the shop man developed into a tall, slender, beautiful girl, with violet eyes and chestnut brown hair, and a complexion of lovely pink. In the morning she would go outside the store to put the goods on display, and was noticed by the wealthy university students. One of them in particular fell desperately in love with the bewitching girl. They began to slyly flirt as the students passed. It would not be fair nor true to put all the blame upon the student. The ambitious shop girl was just as anxious to make a conquest as was the young man. She knew he was rich and could see that he was handsome. She felt only hatred toward the rich people who ignored her, and her humble parents. She could never love this young man sincerely, but she would sell herself for the grand position he could give her. He would always hold himself at an elevation far above her parents, and this would always be a sting in her soul, but she was too ambitious to hesitate at this.
One day he stopped at the shop to buy a shaving mug, and she waited on him. They became acquainted. She was fascinated with his beauty and fine clothes and polite manners. He made love to her from that day with ardor, and she was in the heaven of glory she had dreamed of as she attended to the shop. One day he proposed to her, and she gladly accepted his offer. Her ambition was to be gratified. Oh, the fascination and the wild ambition and magnificent hopes! But all the time she knew she did not love him with a sincere heart. Her humble origin, and his proud and aristocratic parents, made a chasm that could not be bridged in so short a time. Her parents thought it a fine bargain and sale, and encouraged the courtship. Love would come later on. A woman must learn to love where love pays the largest dividends in gold.
So the beautiful, ambitious Irish girl and the aristocratic youth were quietly married. When he told his proud mother that he had married the girl from the crockery store, the last happy smile died on her lips, and she never smiled again. She had such high ambitions for her boy, and he had spoiled them by a rash marriage.
Is it any wonder the marriage proved a failure? They had six children, yet the mother never loved her husband as a woman should love the father of her babies. She was ever conscious of the social chasm between them, and it was a thorn that never ceased to give pain. She had reached the place her ambition craved, but it did not reward her with happiness. There was more pleasure in slowly falling from it, than trying to go higher. The home and money and position were not satisfying. Her popular young husband and the social distinction he gave her were not satisfying. She was not happy.