Part 21 (1/2)
”Age cannot wither them, nor custom stale Their infinite variety.”
Like violins, they gain by age, and the spirit of him who discourseth through them most excellent music,
”Like wine well kept and long, Heady, nor harsh, nor strong, With each succeeding year is quaffed A richer, purer, mellower draught.”
Our French neighbors have been the object of humorous satire for their new coinage of terms to describe the heroes of their modern romance.
A hero is no hero unless he has ”ravaged brows,” is ”blase” or ”brise”
or ”fatigue.” His eyes must be languid, and his cheeks hollow. Youth, health and strength, charm no more; only the tree broken by the gust of pa.s.sion is beautiful, only the lamp that has burnt out the better part of its oil precious, in their eyes. This, with them, a.s.sumes the air of caricature and grimace, yet it indicates a real want of this time--a feeling that the human being ought to grow more rather than less attractive with the pa.s.sage of time, and that the decrease in physical charms would, in a fair and full life, be more than compensated by an increase of those which appeal to the imagination and higher feelings.
A friend complains that, while most men are like music-boxes, which you can wind up to play their set of tunes, and then they stop, in our society the set consists of only two or three tunes at most That is because no new melodies are added after five-and-twenty at farthest.
It is the topic of jest and amazement with foreigners that what is called society is 'given up so much into the hands of boys and girls.
Accordingly it wants spirit, variety and depth of tone, and we find there no historical presences, none of the charms, infinite in variety, of Cleopatra, no heads of Julius Caesar, overflowing with meanings, as the sun with light.
Sometimes we hear an educated voice that shows us how these things might be altered. It has lost the fresh tone of youth, but it has gained unspeakably in depth, brilliancy, and power of expression. How exquisite its modulations, so finely shaded, showing that all the intervals are filled up with little keys of fairy delicacy and in perfect tune!
Its deeper tones sound the depth of the past; its more thrilling notes express an awakening to the infinite, and ask a thousand questions of the spirits that are to unfold our destinies, too far-reaching to be clothed in words. Who does not feel the sway of such a voice? It makes the whole range of our capacities resound and tremble, and, when there is positiveness enough to give an answer, calls forth most melodious echoes.
The human eye gains, in like manner, by tune and experience. Its substance fades, but it is only the more filled with an ethereal l.u.s.tre which penetrates the gazer till he feels as if
”That eye were in itself a soul,”
and realizes the range of its power
”To rouse, to win, to fascinate, to melt, And by its spell of undefined control Magnetic draw the secrets of the soul.”
The eye that shone beneath the white locks of Thorwaldsen was such an one,--the eye of immortal youth, the indicator of the man's whole aspect in a future sphere. We have scanned such eyes closely; when near, we saw that the lids were red, the corners defaced with ominous marks, the orb looked faded and tear-stained; but when we retreated far enough for its ray to reach us, it seemed far younger than the clear and limpid gaze of infancy, more radiant than the sweetest beam in that of early youth. The Future and the Past met in that glance,
O for more such eyes! The vouchers of free, of full and ever-growing lives!
HOUSEHOLD n.o.bLENESS,
”Mistress of herself, though China fell.”
Women, in general, are indignant that the satirist should have made this the climax to his praise of a woman. And yet, we fear, he saw only too truly. What unexpected failures have we seen, literally, in this respect! How often did the Martha blur the Mary out of the face of a lovely woman at the sound of a crash amid gla.s.s and porcelain!
What sad littleness in all the department thus represented! Obtrusion of the mop and duster on the tranquil meditation of a husband and brother. Impatience if the carpet be defaced by the feet even of cherished friends.
There is a beautiful side, and a good reason here; but why must the beauty degenerate, and give place to meanness?
To Woman the care of home is confided. It is the sanctuary, of which she should be the guardian angel. To all elements that are introduced there she should be the ”ordering mind.” She represents the spirit of beauty, and her influence should be spring-like, clothing all objects within her sphere with lively, fresh and tender hues.
She represents purity, and all that appertains to her should be kept delicately pure. She is modesty, and draperies should soften all rude lineaments, and exclude glare and dust. She is harmony, and all objects should be in their places ready for, and matched to, their uses.