The Diothas, or, A Far Look Ahead/Chapter 39

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Chapter XXXIX.
The Letter.

It was with a sort of confused surprise, that, on recovering the consciousness of existence, I found myself alive at all. Instead, too, of battling for life amid a chaos of whirling waters, I found myself seated in a commodious arm-chair, in a dimly lighted apartment. With difficulty I rallied my scattered thoughts so far as to recognize the fact that I was in my own room.

An equally self-evident fact was, that some one had entered the room since I had fallen asleep, and had remained, too, for some time. The flickering wood-fire had been recently replenished with fuel. A strong scent of fragrant Havanas, a pile of white ash in the ash-receiver, indicated how the visitor, whoever he was, had passed his time. My eyes next lighted upon a letter lying beside the lamp, and, as I found, addressed to myself in a well-known handwriting. In some surprise I tore open the envelope, my wonder increasing as I read. It ran as follows:—

"My dear ——,—As you are fast asleep, and seem likely to remain so during the time I can remain here, I must needs put into writing what I came here to say. I was at your door punctual to the time mentioned in my note. Receiving no answer to my knocking, I supposed you were out. But on entering, with the intention of awaiting your return, I found you fast asleep,—so fast indeed, that I had not the heart to disturb you. I was in the less haste to do so, perhaps, from the fact that what I had to say was not without its embarrassments.

"While I sat smoking, and patiently awaiting your awakening, an idea occurred to me, for which you will possibly not thank me. You remember our visit to Dr. K——'s, and our long discussion thereafter anent the experiments we had just witnessed. It was your idea, remember, that the scientific possibilities of mesmerism were still undeveloped, chiefly owing to the difficulty of inducing suitable subjects to submit to experiment under proper conditions. My contention was, that we can expect from a bottle only what was put into it. You replied, that not only was my argument utterly refuted by the facts, even as regards the contents of a bottle, but that also no just comparison can be instituted between the inert passivity of such a recipient and the wonderful combining power, the almost creative energy, of the human brain.

"Lo, here lay before me the proper subject! and that, too, under apparently the most favorable conditions, as laid down by yourself. For obvious reasons, I could not first seek your consent to the projected experiment; since this one of the most important conditions would at once be spoiled. If I have been too hasty in taking your assent for granted, I hereby give you full permission to try the like experiment on myself, should opportunity present itself. Fiat experimentum, etc.

"Thus far, all has succeeded admirably. I had only to give your thoughts the desired direction, having purposely chosen a subject on which you are prone to speculate. From what I have been able to extract from you,—though I refrain from much questioning, as it seems in some way to disturb you,—you appear to be passing through strange experiences, of which I claim, and hope some day to receive, a full and particular recital. If what you are passing through seemed to cause you any distress, I would at once put an end to the experiment. But, as the contrary appears to be the case, I will allow the experiment to run to its natural conclusion,—the more so since thus you will retain a perfect recollection of every incident in your novel experience.

"Now to business. What brought me here was not, as you, no doubt, hoped, to announce your definite acceptance as a member of the Weissnichtwohin expedition. It was rather for the purpose of affording you what I expect will prove an irresistible reason for staying at home. I came, in fact, to set in action a counter-attraction that will, I have little doubt, far outweigh all the fascinations of even troglodytic archæology.

"You are perhaps not aware—indeed, I am pretty certain that you are not—that I, too, have the privilege of being numbered among the acquaintance of Miss Edith Alston. Yes, even that same Miss Alston in regard to whom I have heard so much within these few days past. Why I now, for the first time, inform you of the fact, was originally a matter of pure accident,—you happened to mention the name first: then intervened other reasons you will presently be in a position to appreciate.

"In the last letter I addressed to you in Rome, I alluded, half in jest, to a possible change in my condition in the near future. My uncle, as you know, has been to me like a father. There exists between us a genuine liking, in spite of considerable divergence in our views of life. On my return from what he was pleased to call my last wild-goose chase, he earnestly remonstrated with me on what he termed my waste of life's opportunities. If I would only settle down, he would provide handsomely the means of doing so. He had, in fact, already looked out a wife for me.

"'A splendid girl!' said he, with an enthusiasm in him quite unusual. 'Had I met with such a one in my time, Ute, I should now have, probably, other foolish young people to worry about besides a scientific nephew.'

"The dear old boy had actually been so attentive to the 'splendid girl' at Newport and Saratoga, as to give rise to a foolish rumor, that seems to have reached your ears almost as soon as you lauded. Well, to please my uncle, I sought the acquaintance of Miss Alston, but presently found myself only too anxious to improve that acquaintance in order to please myself.

"I had heard nothing of your engagement, etc. I was far away at the time, beyond the reach of letters or rumors. When the name that since has come to represent to my thoughts all that is lovely and noble was first uttered in my bearing, it awoke in me no associations of any kind. But such were not long in being formed. My uncle was surprised as well as gratified by the suddenness with which I developed a 'practical interest in life,' as be called it.

"For Edith Alston's sake there is nothing I could not have resolved to do or become: there is no drudgery, however distasteful, to which I would not have submitted. At her behest I would have waded into the slough of New-York polities,—yea, have consented to herd with aldermen, like our quixotic friend R———. Faugh! To keep pigs from the garden may be an occupation useful and even necessary, but can hardly be either agreeable or elevating. Better have the garden fenced, or the pigs abolished, my earnest friend. Yet, at her behest, I, too, might have joined you in your bootless and thankless task.

"Much has been said and written about 'the ennobling influence of woman.' The per contra of that claim might afford an interesting subject for speculation. Could we but read the inner history of many a stunted life, how many an aspiring soul would we find has been compelled to forsake the path of the gods, the pursuit of truth for its own sake, lured from that path by the ignis fatuus of a pair of bright eyes, thenceforth to be weighed down to earth by petty cares! A woman's influence, in fact, is as the woman is. Yet there are wiseacres would debar her from all share in man's higher intellectual activities. O fools and blind, not to see that woman's share in moulding the destinies of mankind has increased, is increasing, will increase, till she attain the perfect equality that is her due!

"Noble as is her character, I almost tremble to think how great influence, for good or evil, one woman could have exercised upon me had she but so willed. Not that I can for a moment imagine an influence consciously exercised by her for evil. The influences I feared were those with which I should necessarily surround myself by acceding to my uncle's desire that I should re-enter the career I formerly abandoned in disgust. I have been trying to persuade myself of late, and had almost succeeded in so doing, that I could walk firmly on the slippery path where so many have stumbled before me; that I need never descend—like H—— and F—— to become, for pay, the accomplice after the fact of the cowardly assassin, the hired tool and ally of the thief or swindler, bribed by a share of the plunder.

"You see, my dear fellow, I am now trying to persuade myself that what has happened is all for the best. In the presence of unattainable grapes, how apt we are to seek comfort in the assurance that they would most assuredly have proved unwholesome! You may imagine how sore I feel when I write such stuff as this. The tumble, though not unforeseen, is none the less severe. I still feel somewhat stunned, and inclined to talk incoherently. Yet I do not regret this new experience. It is worth some suffering to have known a really noble woman. It has revealed to me a previously unsuspected world of possibilities and deals. I shall get over this in time. Other fellows have; and so, no doubt, shall I, though at present it seems impossible,—nay, scarcely desirable. I am not such a fool as to suppose that there are not others similar, at least, to Edith Alston. I have to thank her for opening my eyes to that divine possibility. Perhaps, when I return cured, I may, by diligent search—But enough of this.

"When, a few days ago, you mentioned to me, for the first time, Miss Alston's name, and made me a confidant of your troubles, you little suspected how closely the matter concerned your auditor. Had you not been so completely absorbed in the contemplation of your own griefs, you could hardly have failed to remark the disturbance, or, rather, consternation, awakened in me by what I so unexpectedly heard.

"After you left, I tried to face the situation squarely, Could I, or ought I, to withdraw without a struggle? No: I was too far gone for that. Besides, was it not possible that—The possibility suggested was sweet indeed, but soon grew faint in the cool light of sober reflection. The Edith Alston known to me was not the one to plight her troth without giving her heart, nor, having given it, readily to forget. It was due, however, both to myself and to her, that I should know this for certain.

"Her temporary absence from the city till to-day put it out of my power to bring the matter at once in a decision. What I suffered during this period of suspense makes my present condition tolerable by comparison. It is but a few hours since I obtained the desired interview, and received the answer I had come to regard as almost certain. Though gently and courteously expressed, I felt that from that decision there was no appeal. I came away admiring more than ever, but convinced that what I so ardently longed for, her love, cannot be mine. Yours it is still, I firmly believe. Why I believe so, I cannot say. There are beliefs that are not the less strong because resting on evidence rather felt than perceived.

"You are sleeping soundly and peacefully, so I will not disturb you to say good-by. Besides, lave I not said all I have to say,—perhaps more? I cannot remain longer, since this very evening I must leave to join the other members of the expedition at N——. You need not write till you hear of the safe arrival of the party at Weissnichtwo. Don't be shy about sending cards, By that time my cure will be fairly begun—I may as well begin it now. I leave you here a sprig of eglantine, of which I managed surreptitiously to possess myself to-day, I need not say for whose sake I would fain have retained it. I leave it for you, with my best wishes. It is not easy to do, but it is best so. Vive et vale.

U. E."