Love in the human family is eminently under the control of circumstances. The original, natural passion implanted in the breast, may be compared to the common quantities in algebra—it belongs to all. Cupid cares not for creeds, nor occupations, nor professions; but the development of the passion, under the guidance of reason, association and imagination, assumes as many shapes as the dispositions and intellects of the myriads who compose the human family. In the civilized countries of Europe, and in our own, woman has been liberated from that state of servitude and debasement, to which either the condition of barbarism, or the laws of Mahommedanism had too long confined her. The institution of chivalry, and the diffusion of the humane spirit of christianity, have assigned her that station in society which makes her in the social circle the equal of man. She has been disenthralled from that jealousy which would quietly immure her within the walls of the Seraglio, and which, in attempting to preserve her chastity by constraint, prevents the development of mind, extinguishes the vigor and intensity of the affections, and really in the end, debauches the heart, whilst it guards the person. Under a system of free and equal intercourse among the sexes, love assumes a totally different form from that which exists in society where woman is not looked on as the equal of man. In the former case, she must be wooed and won; in the latter, she is bought and locked up. In the former case, she is allowed the free employment of all her faculties, and the full play of all her graces and accomplishments. In the latter, becoming the slave of man, and losing all those higher inducements to mental and moral excellence which freedom alone can foster, she degenerates into a mere being of ignorance and sensuality, going through the dull round of solely animal pleasures, unattended by that grace and refinement which throw so bright a lustre around the female character.
When freedom of intercourse exists among the sexes, what is called courtship, becomes a longer and more assiduous task to the gentlemen, than where such freedom does not exist. The heart of woman may be likened to the besieged and fortified castle. It must be regularly invested; slowly and cautiously, or boldly and daringly approached, according to circumstances. The whole science of social tactics must be studied, and a skilful application made to the heart which is to be won. Under these circumstances, when all the affections of a man's heart have really been concentrated upon one object, if he possess a keen sensibility and a highly wrought imagination, the period of his love and of his courtship, may be the most important of his whole life: like the fabled wand of the magician, it may but wave over the character, and change the whole inner man. Ardent and intense love is certainly the master passion of our nature, whilst it exists; but like all tyrants, it may reign but for a season; it is liable to dethronement. Whilst, however, it is enthroned, it conquers every other. Ambition, interest, patriotism, all have yielded during the hour of its ascendancy. Whilst this passion endures, it clusters around its object all the dearest associations and fondest recollections of our life. It is the spirit which has only to move over the chaos of our existence, and attract to itself all the elements of our nature. It enters the heart, and makes us brood over dreams of joy, and look with rapturous gaze and supplicating eye,
| "To the bright form of our idolatrous worship, Whose every gesture, motion, look or word— Like wonder-working secret alchymy, Changes each passing thought to visioned bliss." |
It mixes itself with all our thoughts, our desires, our hopes and actions. It is the realization of the fable of the fish, which imparted its own beautiful color to every object that approached it. How often when we have stood amid the lone majesty of nature's works, "all heaven above" and earth beneath, with no eye gazing on us, save that of him who doeth his will and ruleth in the armies of heaven, have we felt this unseen spirit to move within us—to touch, as if with magic hand, all the springs of our moral sensibility, and waken up all the tender emotions of our soul. Even with the prayer which we address to heaven from this great temple of nature we cannot refrain from mingling the name of her whose beauty and loveliness have excited within us the sympathetic emotions of virtue and piety. This passion of love, when it is genuine, accompanies us wherever we go; it associates the beloved object with all our plans and schemes of ambition, and casts its own bright radiance over all the objects which surround us:
| "It breathes forth in the song of joyous birds— In the violet hues of the broad laughing heavens— In sunlight—in the beams of radiant stars— In gush of waters—in the evening breeze, Making its nest amidst the parting boughs Of murmuring trees—and oh! the most of all In her sweet melting tones of tenderness, The steadfast lustre of her gazing eye— For all are nature's oracles, and teach The heart to love." |
Even the circle of friends by which we are surrounded, become associated in our imagination with the sole object of our affections; our tastes are often changed, our friendships altered, our very opinions and inclinations are sometimes revolutionized by the potent but silent sway of that being whose beauty and loveliness have placed us under this mysterious spell. Love like this, terminating in marriage, founded on reciprocity of affection, must be productive of the most exquisite and refined happiness which the frail condition of man will allow us in this world. It is such love as this which will quickly bring two heterogeneous beings to harmonize in temper and disposition. It is such as this which will tame down the ferocity of the tiger and triumph over the savage spirit of the hyena. Under its operation the corsair has been sometimes arrested in his bold career, the robber has been reformed, and the arm of the bloodthirsty villain has been withholden from an infliction of the deadly blow.
When, however, such love is unfortunate, and fails to win its object, there comes perhaps one of the heaviest blows to which mortality is subject; then does it become necessary to gather up the shattered resources of mind and body to withstand the storm which is overwhelming us with calamity. This is a period fraught with infinite danger even to the character of man. At such a time we seem suddenly arrested in our mid career by the cruel hand of misfortune. The bright, the delusive prospects which we beheld reflected in the mirror of hope, have suddenly disappeared from the mental vision. But a little while ago and we were like him who had wandered into the splendid repository of the works of art, illumined by the bright lamp whose radiant light was beautifully reflected from the thousand polished surfaces which glittered around; now we are like him in that same mazy hall, with his lamp extinguished and total darkness around.
The very sun of our moral and social existence seems suddenly struck from the heavens, and well may we in the agony of despair exclaim, "how stale, flat, and unprofitable" is this world to us now. When we wander abroad, how dismal is the prospect which lies before us. The sun, and the moon with her nightly train, seem to have lost that celestial spirit which a little while ago had made us gaze upon them in silent and pensive bliss. Our homes, our firesides, our friends have lost the charm which can neutralize woe; for a period the desire for fame and honor is lost, and the voice of ambition is silenced within.
| "Look where he comes. In this embowered alcove Stand close concealed and see a statue move; Lips busy and eyes fixed, foot falling slow, Arms hanging idly down, hands clasped below! That tongue is silent now; that silent tongue Could argue once, could jest or join the song— Could give advice, could censure or commend, Or charm the sorrows of a drooping friend. Now neither healthy wilds, nor scenes as fair As ever recompensed the peasant's care, Nor gales that catch the scent of blooming groves And waft it to the mourner, as he roves, Can call up life into his faded eye,— That passes all he sees unheeded by." |
This period of agony which I have just described has often infused the gall of bitterness into the cup of life, turned benevolence into misanthropy, soured the temper, and destroyed the tranquillity of existence. When the shock has come after matrimonial engagement, which has been ended by woman's caprice, or the wily artifices of the mischief-making meddler, then the stroke is still more dreadful, and productive of effects still more marked in the character of the man; and oftentimes is the conduct of that being, who stands an anomaly in the eyes of the world, to be traced back to this cause. We have seen an individual mysteriously settle down in our vicinage, immure himself in his solitary mansion, shrink from the gaze of the world as from the dragon's visage, and live as though life were a burden which was to him insupportable. Pry into his history, and you will find, when you have traced it out, that it was the treachery of her upon whom he had lavished all the affections of his soul, which separated him from his original home and happiness. Look again—there is another being whose brilliant, but meteor like career, alarms the selfish statesman and puzzles the philosopher. To-day, listening senates are hanging on his words, and electrified by the magic of his soul-stirring eloquence. To-morrow, in the social circle, he displays those powers of fascination and attraction which fix the gaze of all on the play of his features, while the brilliancy of his fancy and the vivid corruscations of his wit and intellect, are delighting all around with his wonder-working speech.