Part 47 (1/2)
Christmas Day was sunny and beautiful. The bending sky was as deeply blue as that which hung over Bethlehem eighteen hundred years before; G.o.d's coloring had not faded. Happy children prattled as joyously as did the little Jew boys who cl.u.s.tered curiously about the manger to gaze upon the holy babe, the sleeping Jesus. Human nature had not altered one whit beneath the iron wheel of Time. Is there a man so sunk in infamy or steeped in misanthropy that he has not, at some period of his life, exclaimed, in view of earth's fadeless beauty:
”'This world is very lovely. O my G.o.d!
I thank Thee that I live.'”
Alas for the besotted soul who cannot bend the knee of humble adoration before nature's altar, where sacrifices are offered to the Jehovah, pavilioned in invisibility. There is an ardent love of nature as far removed from gross materialism or subtle pantheism on the one hand as from stupid inappreciation on the other. There is such a thing as looking ”through nature up to nature's G.o.d,”
notwithstanding the frightened denials of those who, shocked at the growing materialism of the age, would fain persuade this generation to walk blindfold through the superb temple a loving G.o.d has placed us in. While every sane and earnest mind must turn, disgusted and humiliated, from the senseless rant which resolves all divinity into materialistic elements, it may safely be proclaimed that genuine aesthetics is a mighty channel through which the love and adoration of Almighty G.o.d enters the human soul. It were an insult to the Creator to reject the influence which even the physical world exerts on contemplative natures. From bald, h.o.a.ry mountains, and somber, solemn forests; from thundering waves and wayside violets; from gorgeous sunset clouds, from quiet stars and whispering winds, come unmistakable voices, hymning of the Eternal G.o.d--the G.o.d of Moses, of Isaac, and of Jacob. Extremes meet in every age, and in every department. Because one false philosophy would deify the universe, startled opponents tell us to close our ears to these musical utterances and shut our eyes to glorious nature, G.o.d's handiwork.
Oh! why has humanity so fierce a hatred of medium paths?
Ragged boys and barefooted girls tripped gayly along the streets, merry and uncomplaining; and, surrounded by velvet, silver, and marble, by every superfluity of luxury, Cornelia Graham, with a bitter heart and hopeless soul, s.h.i.+vered in her easy-chair before a glowing fire. The Christmas sunlight crept in through the heavy crimson curtains and made gorgeous fret-work on the walls, but its cheering radiance mocked the sickly pallor of the invalid, and, as Beulah retreated to the window and peeped into the street, she felt an intense longing to get out under the blue sky once more. Mr. and Mrs. Graham and Antoinette sat round the hearth, discussing the tableaux for the evening, while, with her cheek upon her hand, Cornelia listlessly fingered a diamond necklace which her father had just given her. The blazing jewels slipped through her pale fingers all unnoticed, and she looked up abstractedly when Mr. Graham touched her, and repeated his question for the third time.
”My child, won't you come down to the sitting room?”
”No, sir; I am better here.”
”But you will be so lonely.”
”Not with Beulah.”
”But, of course, Miss Benton will desire to see the tableaux. You would not keep her from them?” remonstrated her father.
”Thank you, Mr. Graham, I prefer remaining with Cornelia,” answered Beulah, who had no wish to mingle in the crowd which, she understood from the conversation, would a.s.semble that evening in the parlors.
The trio round the hearth looked at each other, and evidently thought she manifested very heathenish taste. Cornelia smiled, and leaned back with an expression of pleasure which very rarely lighted her face.
”You are shockingly selfish and exacting,” said Antoinette, curling her long ringlets over her pretty fingers and looking very bewitching. Her cousin eyed her in silence, and not particularly relis.h.i.+ng her daughter's keen look Mrs. Graham rose, kissed her forehead, and said gently:
”My love, the Vincents, and Thorntons. and Hendersons all sent to inquire after you this morning. Netta and I must go down now and prepare for our tableaux. I leave you in good hands. Miss Benton is considered an admirable nurse, I believe.”
”Mother, where is Eugene?”
”I really do not know. Do you, Mr. Graham?”
”He has gone to the hotel to see some of his old Heidelberg friends,” answered Netta, examining Beulah's plain merino dress very minutely as she spoke.
”When he comes home be good enough to tell him that I wish to see him.”
”Very well, my dear.” Mrs. Graham left the room, followed by her husband and niece.
For some time Cornelia sat just as they left her; the diamond necklace slipped down and lay a glittering heap on the carpet, and the delicate waxen hands drooped listlessly over the arms of the chair. Her profile was toward Beulah, who stood looking at the regular, beautiful features, and wondering how (with so many elements of happiness in her home) she could seem so discontented.
She was thinking, too, that there was a certain amount of truth in that persecuted and ignored dictum, ”A man only sees that which he brings with him the power of seeing,” when Cornelia raised herself, and, turning her head to look for her companion, said slowly:
”Where are you? Do you believe in the Emersonian 'law of compensation,' rigid and inevitable as fate? I say, Beulah, do you believe it?”
”Yes; I believe it.”
”Hand me the volume there on the table. His exposition of 'the absolute balance of Give and Take, the doctrine that everything has its price,' is the grandest triumph of his genius. For an hour this sentence has been ringing in my ears: 'In the nature of the soul is the compensation for the inequalities of condition.' We are samples of the truth of this. Ah, Beulah, I have paid a heavy, heavy price!
You are dest.i.tute of one, it is true, but exempt from the other.
Yet, mark you, this law of 'compensation' pertains solely to earth and its denizens; the very existence and operation of the law precludes the necessity, and I may say the possibility, of that future state, designed, as theologians argue, for rewards and punishments.” She watched her visitor very closely.