Who was he? Whence did he come? Such were the questions which immediately followed this effort, the most remarkable that had ever been witnessed in the University of Mississippi. It was ascertained that day, that there was nothing very eventful or wonderful in his history. His parents had died when he was small, leaving, however, sufficient means to support him till he could obtain a collegiate education. Such was his brief history. But what would be his future? Everybody felt that his career would be brilliant; that the young man must achieve a degree of success commensurate with his wonderful oratory. We will at once follow up his footsteps.
Ernest determined to adopt the law as his profession. He now had barely funds to defray his expenses through the Law School, but as he did not wish to lose time, he resolved to exhaust his entire means in the completion of his legal education. At the expiration of two years he was graduated with distinction; but he was penniless, and had to begin the battle with nothing but his education and energy. His guardian, with whom our reader will soon become better acquainted, agreed to board him without pay till the young man’s efforts should be crowned with that material success, which the Reverend gentleman thought must attend the exercise of such talents as his young ward possessed. When the parents of Ernest died, he was left to the care of a minister of the Baptist denomination, in whom they had unbounded confidence. His name was Joseph Hillston. He at once took the boy to his house, and made no difference between him and his own children. By a judicious management of the small property left in his hands, Mr. Hillston kept the youth in college till his education was completed, at which time Ernest had attained his majority. Mr. Hillston then turned over to him the remainder of his property, which, as stated, was entirely absorbed by his two year’s course at the Law School. And now he had no money, but he was animated by a lofty purpose, and a determination to conquer, before which he felt that difficulties must vanish. No one seemed to doubt that the brilliant young lawyer, with his splendid accomplishments, would subordinate destiny to his will, and would soon stand at the head of the legal fraternity. Indeed, some predicted that he would, at last, reach the highest office that the people could bestow. And why should he not? Not a single element of success was lacking, so far as his friends could see. His attainments appeared to be equal to the demands of the most vaulting ambition. What, then, should he care for difficulties, except as a stimulus to arouse his energies?
But what little, insignificant trifles turn the barque of destiny into channels of which the pilot never dreamed! It is not violent storms that change the course of this allegorical barque; because the pilot is prepared for great disturbances and obstacles. It was a moment of sleep that caused Palinurus to fall over-board into the sea: a hurricane could not have produced the same disastrous result. It is the little things that change the current of human life. A spider’s web sometimes turns the vessel’s helm: the echo of a word destroys the equilibrium of circumstances. Late in life man finds himself driven into a port which had never entered into the programme of possibilities. All this will be illustrated in the progress of the present story.
A few days after Ernest returned from the Law School, there was seen on the door of an unpretending office, in his native town, a square piece of metal, exhibiting in gilded letters, “Ernest Edgefield, Attorney at Law.”
Our young lawyer had not the most remote idea of settling permanently in this little town, where he would have to fritter away his energies and cramp his mind in such narrow litigation as must arise in rural courts, but he fully intended, after a while, to seek a field of broader dimensions, which would call forth all his legal lore, and cause him to put forth all the strength of which he was capable. His present location was only the stepping-stone to his loftier aspirations, and which, he thought, would detain him only till he could acquire sufficient means to justify his removal to some city where his talents could find room for development.
It was not long before Ernest’s fond hopes and the justifiable expectations of his friends began to emerge from the shade of possibilities into the sunshine of realities. Legal business flowed in, and Ernest, at the very outset of his career, found himself entrusted with the management of as important cases as ever require judicial investigation in a provincial court.
But Ernest could not thus go on forever, thinking of nothing but the immediate object of his ambition, and dreaming only of deeds and legal parchments and bags of gold. At an early day in his career a path of destiny began to open in the misty future, different from that which he had at first marked out for himself. In the town there lived a young lady whom he had known from childhood. For several years, however, she had occupied scarcely a single thought of his, attributable to the fact that both had been absent at school. Both returned home the same month to enter upon their respective careers, which seemed to be as far apart as zenith and nadir, since the charming, gilded path of ease, leisure and idleness lay before the one, and the path of work, diligence, and activity lay before the other.
Clara Vanclure was the only child of a wealthy merchant. Her prospects were regarded as very brilliant, since the probability was, she would inherit all her father’s property, consisting of lands and plantations as well as stores, and estimated at not less than two millions of dollars. As might be expected, she was a “spoiled child,” yet, she was beautiful, and accomplished to the full extent of her capacities, which, strict truth compels us to say, were not, by any means, of the highest order. But the dazzling mantle of vast wealth hides a mighty multitude of faults. There is a confusing glamour about “great possessions,” which so fascinates and bewitches, that the judgment of men cannot be properly exercised. The sneering cynic, like growling Diogenes, may affect to despise wealth, but in his heart he respects the owner, who controls such a source of commercial power and social influence. We may have a contempt for the rich man’s character, but in spite of ourselves, we stand in awe of the Magician’s mysterious ring which he wears on his finger. It was wealth that gave an additional luster to Miss Vanclure’s accomplishments.
When Ernest again met the young lady, after a separation of several years, both were changed by the uncontrollable vicissitudes of time. She especially had developed from an awkward Miss of fifteen, into a symmetrically-proportioned woman. In the catalogue of her recommendations, her physical attractions were certainly well calculated to make an impression upon any susceptible heart. Ernest was not insensible to the charms of beauty, and he at once acknowledged Clara’s claims to the highest order of corporeal graces. He immediately renewed his acquaintance with his quondam school-fellow, (for both had attended the same school when they were children) to which she was, by no means averse. Our reader will be afflicted with no long story of love and courtship. It is always very entertaining to a certain class of young people to read the entire history of two lovers—their honeyed utterances, poetical effusions, delightful promenades by moonlight—their petty jealousies, sad misunderstandings, little quarrels, succeeded by reconciliation that only places mutual rehabilitation upon a firmer basis—all this might be highly interesting, but we must hasten on to the narration of more important events. It is sufficient to say that as soon as Ernest’s success became an assured fact, he proposed to the fair Clara, and was accepted. Old Mr. Vanclure was secretly delighted at the prospect of such an alliance, for he was not one of those simpletons who would have their children sacrifice their temporal happiness upon the altar of Mammon. Clara would have a large estate, and only needed a husband who had the ability to manage it. Mr. Vanclure, now advanced in years, had felt considerable anxiety in regard to his daughter’s future, but the perplexing problem seemed about to end in a felicitous solution, and a great burden was lifted from his mind, when one day Ernest called for the purpose of asking his consent to a closer relationship between Miss Vanclure and himself. He had been among the first to discover the excellency and solidity of the young man’s moral character, and he was not so blinded by parental love that he could not easily perceive the moral infirmities of his own child. He knew that she would need a protector and a guardian as long as she should live. Therefore, having been fearful that Clara would become the prey of some worthless adventurer, he could scarcely conceal his joy when Ernest approached him upon this delicate subject. However, the old gentleman seemed to think it advisable to mask his happy feelings under the guise of a little opposition, and he said:
“Ah? I was hardly expecting this—at least so soon—yes, so soon.”