COLLOQUY II. CHAPTER IV. "And sure there seem of human kind Some born to shun the solemn strife; Some for amusive tasks designed To soothe the certain ills of life, Grace its lone vales with many a budding rose, THERE were three souls in the sanctum at Ivy Lodge on a laughing day in merry May. The Church, by a straight-forward, honest, and rather affecting process, and without the aid of or pretension to magic, has since reduced those three into two, by joining together one of the three and myself, and prohibiting the putting us asunder. I have before hinted at this "catastrophe." That eulogistic description in detail which it would have been excellent gratification to attempt for E.'s god-daughter unyoked, would be egregious impropriety under existing circumstances. I have two codes of law, by one of which I regulate my conduct socially, and by the other, my conduct professionally; and so far am I from confounding the dictates of the former with the suggestions of the latter, that, out of court or chambers, I am painfullyjealous in avoiding equivoke and exaggeration, and am careful, when doffing the coif, to put on candour. It requires but little art or diligence, so to winnow the testimony of an interested witness as to reduce it to chaff in the judgment of a jury of yeomen, and to inspire contempt for the individual discredited. The portrait of a young wife, drawn by her husband, and he peradventure uxorious, could hardly be set up for the scrutiny of Candour, the mind of the painter being intoxicated by a very grateful hallucination, which blinds him to the fault of an extravagant use of vermilion. So, like Bassanio before the gaudy golden casket, "I will none of it." It may be sufferable to laud the object of one's love, while yet advancing on that pathway of pleasant meanders which have their terminus at the church-porch; but that goal once attained, the sound of rhapsody beyond grates on the general ear, and incites to sarcasm and a search after blots. I restrain my ink, therefore, at the chops of a channel, into which, if its current once entered, Impartiality might be deluged, and the pilotage of Prudence despised. It is comfortable to hear the cooing of old couples, who, having well-nigh ended their journey over the thorny wilderness, and loving the more tenderly for its lacerations, are justified in the congratulation, that the hazardous result of custom has approved itself in reciprocal solace, not in satiety. But I distrust the discretion of those who, barely entered on the perilous noviciate of the nuptial noose, announce their conjugal felicity to be secured on a lease for life, and confidently calculate upon realizing a vague amount of bliss, equivalent to Paradise regained. Experience, however, like the wary inspector of a building-plan, made captivating by impracticable embellishments, reminds the credulous and eager candidates for so blissful a possession, that the paradise which fascinates them exists merely in design,—that the soil (de la nature humaine,) is always uncertain, and may be sometimes treacherous, concealing stubborn rocks and gnarled roots;—that this portal of the home of Pleasure, to-day gaudy in fanciful decoration, may to-morrow be made grotesque by mutilation, or be pitilessly shattered by storm;—and that the fabric, in its best estate, lodges, with its possessors, a little reptile-horde of bickerings in embryo, which, exposed to a particular heat, burst from the shell at once into vigour, and are deadlier in their enmity than armed men. These cautious cavils raised by Experience are not agreeable to dwell upon, but they lend no feeble aid to Prudence, in advising the suppression of a premature proclamation of happiness which is to be. "The world's a stage" on which the scene sometimes shifts as soon as the poor player has strutted a few paces; and in the scene of a marriage, the merry bridal-peal has often almost subsided into the note of burial;-so brief the intermission between transport and the tomb. To sum up, therefore, I conceive it better becomes the newly-married to be taciturn than babblers about bliss, lest at any time a nuptial dirge should suddenly succeed a nuptial ditty. The month of May could never have presented a comelier aspect or have diffused a kindlier influence than at the time of which I have spoken. The quire about Ivy Lodge were distending their tiny throats in fugue and forte music; and the Elder's eyes were ready to leap from their socket, in a perfect fever of exhilaration. E. "Welcome hither, as is the spring to the earth!** Mr. C. By frantic Fred! (Mary, is that bird inebriated?) by sir Fred! we are to-day most highly favored. My daughter-in-baptism, Sir;-Mary, this is Mr. C., who promises to surpass thee as a patient listener, child;-nay, no incredulous smile; 'tis honest verity, I vow. We practice here, Sir, no fashion or ceremony-the appurtenance of welcome,' as Hamlet hath it; and had the old sexton, Time,'t plyed his + Taylor. * Winter's Tale, act 5, scene i. |