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140 1R t> t $Lt*tltt. tSATORiJAY,
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Note: This text has been automatically extracted via Optical Character Recognition (OCR) software. The text has not been manually corrected and should not be relied on to be an accurate representation of the item.
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The Apprenticeship Of Life. By G. H. Lew...
strong enough to bear us through with honor . The world always modifies and diminishes our moral purity . If we begin with laxity , where shall we end ? The superiority of Armarid was unconsciously felt by Hortense , and showed itself in all their discussions . She used to argue with him the question of marriage from her St . Simonian view , but he crushed her eloquence about the " legalized hypocrisy" of that union , and the " necessity for only a moral bond between man and woman . " " You do not , " he said , " look at marriage in its true light . It is the social aspect of an individual sentiment , and it is sacred as a duty owed to humanity . " " I do not understand what you mean by any duty owed to humanity . Humanity is only a collection of individuals . "
"True ; but there are laws for masses as well as for individuals—there are social considerations equally powerful as personal considerations—otherwise society could not exist ; for society is but the collective life of Humanity , and it differs as much from the individual life as the state does from the family . " " And how does marriage extend from an individual to a social question ? Surely it is purely a matter concerning two individuals and no one else ?" " Every divine sentiment , " replied Armand , brings with it a corresponding duty . When a man loves , he obeys the instincts of his nature as an individual being ; and according to you those instincts are all that enters into the question . But I say man is not only an animal , he is also a social animal , and as such bis duty is even higher than his instincts , and must control them . With love , therefore , is connected a responsibility , and that
is marriage . " This metaphysical view did not convince Hortense , but it silenced her . She bowed down before his more exalted and enthusiastic opinions , as we involuntarily respect even an error which bears on it the stamp of grandeur . Those views of life which tend to exalt our nature always elicit our sympathy even when they do not force assent . So prone are we to worship , that no one who boldly takes his place upon a pedestal fails to meet with reverence With this sort of moral awe , this worship of the soul , was combined an
inexplicable personal fascination . Armand was greatly endowed with that power of personal influence which makes people for want of an explanation adopt that of magnetism . No one came near him without being subject to it ; and Hortense was irresistibly attracted towards him by that instinct which we all know so well , though none can define it . " Armand , " said Hortense , one evening , " you must determine on some career ; you cannot let your youth slip away in idleness . " " I know it , Hortense ; yet I know not what to do . "
" There are but three classes among men who live , for I do not count idlers as men , and these classes are Thinkers , Artists , and Industrialists . Choose , then , Philosophy ( that is Science or Politics ) , Art , or else what is called the practical business of life , the whole variety of applied foice , from manufactures to agriculture . " ' And which would Hortense have me choose ? " ** Whatever you have a vocation for . " ' 1 do not feel a vocation for anything . "
' * Yet Nature—or I am greatly mistaken—destined you for an Artist : and if so , your only chance of happiness is by strenuously developing your faculties in the sphere most suited to them . Oh ! how I always regret not having been a man ! " It is to be observed that Hortense , instead of struggling with her indolence , always laid the blame of it on her sex ; theoretically , she was all in iavour of work , energy , and activity ; but , practically , it confined itself to regrets and magnificent phrases . " You are perfect as a woman , " said Armand naively , " why should you desire to be a man ? "
" Because , for women , as society is constituted , there is no activity away from home . We can play no part ; we can do nothing . We are usteless when we are not mothers . " " That surely is something—to be mothers . " Yes , that is immense ; but when we have no children what becomes of us , what can we do ? " " Cannot you cultivate Art ? " " But upon what conditions ? Painting and Sculpture are beyond us ; we never transcend mediocrity in them . In Music we do not even attain mediocrity , except as singers ; composition is Hebrew to us ! " " And Literature ? "
** Demands an experience of life which can only be attained by us at the expense of all consideration . Women see nothing , how can they say anything ! Oh it is very different with you men ! You are free to choose a career , and free to prepare yourselves fitly for it . " " What a grand creature she is ! " thought Armand , contemplating his beautiful cousin , her magnificent arm thrown carelessly over the back of her chair as she looked out upon the sunset . " Why don ' t you atudy some Art , " she said presently .
• ' I am discouraged by the enormous difficulties of the technical part , and by the hopelessness of making a sceptical age like ours appreciate the true spirit of Art . This is not an age for Art because it is destitute of those great convictions which Art embodies . "
" That is not true , Armand . There are as many earnest men now as formerly , and their convictions are as serious . Perhaps at no period was it ever truer than at present that no man who has anything to utter utters it in vain . " " That may be ; yet do you not see that , if convictions sway as many
earnest men as formerly , they do not unite them . Men are separated from each other , divided , instead of being bound together by one belief shared in common . It is an age of individualism and anarchy . Instead of a philosop hy we have systems j instead of a religion we have sects j instead of a nation we have coteries . Now , an artist who is condemned to influence coteries—as our artists are—forfeits his mission . Art speaks to humanity , not to coteries . " .. " You despair of society .. "
« I ( j 0—it has no Faith , it has no Art , it has no united action . It has ceased to respect truth , and hopes by respect for formulas to get on as well . Its Religion is a compromise and a routine , instead of being a living belief ; its Art is a dexterity , instead of being a sentiment j its Polity is & patchwork of traditions and * measures suitable to the occasion , ' and it staggers blindly on with a careless confidence in the times ' mending . ' " This was said with an enthusiasm which lit up his countenance , and made it beautiful to look upon . A silence of some minutes succeeded , and the two looked out upon the broad sunset , as if its evanescent tints were the hiero - glyphs of the mysterious Future . All Nature was silent as if in adoration .
The distant sky was like a sea of fire , and its reddening splendour formed a kind of halo round the head of Hortense , as she sat between him and the window . Surpassingly beautiful was Hortense at that moment . A robe of maroon velvet , fastened round her waist by a golden cord , fell in loose and ample folds about her form ; it was opened in front , sufficient to betray the undulations of an exquisite bust nestled in endless folds of lace . In her dark hair , as usual , an abundance of flowers were arranged with a carelessness which was grace ; and her dark eyes were languid with tenderness .
As Armand gazed upon her , an overpowering sense of the mysterious influence of beauty stole upon him with a feeling akin to pain . There are moments when the h . eart seems to dilate as if it would burst—when the soul , impatient of the bonds which restrain it , yearns blindly , almost fiercely , for an escape into some other sphere . In such moments silence is oppressive , yet we cannot speak . A huge thunderous cloud—its ridges tipped with fire—now appeared on the horizon ; it grew and grew , and shadowed the earth , absorbing in its blackness the fading splendour of the sky ; slowly it came on , spreading wider and wider , till at length a few large drops of rain falling heavily upon the leaves , announced that the storm was breaking .
They watched it in silence . The rain grew fierce , and the lightning began to flash along the sky . On the storm came—a summer storm , —swift , terrible , and brief . Hortense rose hastily to close the windows . She was leaning forward with the fastening in her hand , when a grand wide flash enveloped her . A strange cry burst from Armand . She looked round ; a second flash followed , and in its light she beheld him kneeling at her feet with hands uplifted , and a face of such passionate adoration that , borne away by the uncontrollable emotion of the moment , she flung herself into his arms , and crushed her lips against his . In that moment they lived a life .
The sight of Hortense as she appeared in that flash , her strange beauty rendered still more beautiful by the strange unearthly environment , wrung from him that sudden cry ; and she who had struggled , who had subdued all the instincts of her nature , was thrown off her guard by that cry and by that look , and in one supreme moment trampled down all scruples , and confessed her passion in a kiss . The thunder continued careering about the heavens and bounding over the distant echoing hills ; the rain washed down as in a deluge ; and still the lovers , locked in each other ' s arms , were mute , motionless , speechless , in their delirium of bliss .
The storm passed away as rapidly as it had come . The heavens were cleared in an instant , and now were calmly rejoicing . The rain dripped from the leaves with a sweet and gentle sound . Peace had everywhere succeeded the violence of a few minutes . Not everywhere . Peace had not yet descended on those throbbing hearts . There the storm of passion—the wild , feverish , unutterable passion—the confluence of all being to one centre , the absorption of all feeling into one , absolute and supreme—that still remained as before . But reflection was sure to come at last ; consciousness is blinded by instincts for awhile , but it tears off the veil and insists on seeing . Hortense returned to consciousness ; became aware of her forgetfulness .
Extricating herself from his embrace , she sprang to her feet . He rose , somewhat astonished . She walked to the other window , and looked out . He followed her , and , taking the hand she could not refuse , he said : " Hortense , have I offended you ?" In a whisper , terrible from its intensity , she replied : " Armand , 1 have been mad ... We have both been ao ... This must be forgotten . " " Hortense , " said Armand , tremulously , " I love you . " She shook , but made no answer . Her silence was torture to him . He stood beside her awaiting a reply , yet
dreading what the reply might be . " Hortense , " he again said , " I love you . " She dared not look at him . The struggle which was going on within would have ended at once had she trusted herself to meet his eyes . " Combat this fancy , " she said , with difficulty 5 "it will not last long . "
140 1r T> T $Lt*Tltt. Tsatorijay,
140 1 R t > t $ Lt * tltt . tSATORiJAY ,
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Citation
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Leader (1850-1860), May 4, 1850, page 20, in the Nineteenth-Century Serials Edition (2008; 2018) ncse.ac.uk/periodicals/l/issues/cld_04051850/page/20/
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