Nothing but Money! CHAPTER 5.
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Not far away from the humble home of Adam Guyton, was the more tasteful dwelling of Dr. Edward Hofland. It stood a little back from the street, with a garden and shrubbery in front, arranged in the neatest order. The house was called a half-house, standing with the end to the street, the front door opening directly into the parlor — a side door led into a narrow entry, from which the stairs ascended. On one side of this entry, was the parlor; on the other side, a small dining or sitting room, and next to this the kitchen. The house was but two stories high, with an attic, and all the rooms were small.
For this modest abode, the doctor paid two hundred dollars a year. Its garden in front had pleased his taste, and he had taken it in preference to one with quite as much room, which would only have cost one hundred and fifty dollars. This fact was known to his old friend, Adam Guyton, who had blamed him as extravagant, in no choice terms — not to himself, of course — but in conversations with his wife. A reason, besides the gratification of his taste, and one which did not come into the thought of Adam Guyton, had also influenced the doctor in making his selection. As a professional man, success depended, in some degree, on social appearances; and he was very well satisfied that the more tasteful looking house would prove the cheapest — and he was right so far.
Let us look in upon the doctor and his wife, on the evening which passed so drearily, and with such a bad promise for Adam and Lydia Guyton.
Doctor Hofland was a quiet, thoughtful, rather grave looking young man, just a little above the medium height, slender, of fair complexion, and clearly cut features. His eyes were brown rather than blue, and dark for his complexion. They were grave, like his face — but, like his face, kindled beautifully when thought grew active, or his feelings warmed. His whole air was refined — his manner quiet, — gentlemanly.
The young wife of Dr. Hofland was of a different temperament from her husband, and as different as to personal appearance. She possessed a clear, strong, resolute mind, which was under the discipline of sound, good sense, ardent but not blindly impulsive feelings, a cheerful disposition, and a warmly affectionate nature. She had a round full face, complexion dark, eyes black, full of light, and all alive when she spoke. You would not call her features regular — but would say — "How beautiful!" at the first glance. Diane was a charming young woman, the favorite of all who knew her, and the tenderly loved wife of an appreciative husband.
We may always know something of people's characters, by the things with which they surround themselves. In a man's dress — in his house and furniture — in all material things which he selects and arranges as the ultimate forms of his thought and affection — we see images of himself, and comprehend therefrom the quality of his mind. As his character changes, we see corresponding changes in his exterior things.
In the furnishing of Adam Guyton's house, the man's character was clearly illustrated. Love of money was his ruling desire, and to this everything had to be subordinated. Mereornament, in his eyes, was a superfluity — a useless waste — and so only the plainest and least costly articles were bought. There was nothing, out toward which taste could go, and rest in tranquil delight.
Let us see how it is with Doctor Hofland. An ingrain carpet is on the floor of his small parlor — but it cost ten cents a yard more than that of Adam Guyton, the extra ten cents having been paid in consideration of a finer quality and more tasteful pattern. The chairs, instead of being solid "Windsor," are "cane-seat," black, with ornamental gilding. Instead of a cheap mantle glass, there is a small French clock; and in place of the two glass lamps, a pair of neat china vases, that rarely miss their bundle of fragrant flowers. A pair of card tables stand on opposite sides of the room; and in front of the fire-place, with its shining fender and andirons, is a small center-table, covered with books. Three or four choice engravings ornament the walls. How clearly does every article, as well as the style of arrangement, indicate the mental quality of the directing mind or minds.
Here, husband and wife acted in sweet harmony, and their home gives expression to their mental states. In the other case, Guyton's will governed in the selection of nearly every article, and in his home you saw an outbirth of his state and character only. In the things by which he had surrounded himself and his wife, Lydia's mind did not rest in calm content.Taste and feeling went out ,in a restless search for objects in fuller correspondence with themselves, and came back weary and dissatisfied. A few seemingly unimportant changes in the style of their furniture — a trifling, and not costly addition here and there, a little more of the "uselessly ornamental," and it would have made all the difference in the world to her.
But Adam Guyton saw in all this but weakness and folly. The useful only, had attractions for his eyes; and what he meant by the useful referred to the mere needs of natural life, as the basis of effort toward worldly accumulation. Whatever came not in this category was superfluous, and to be rejected. He could exist on husks — but not so, the more delicately organized nature of his wife. On the fare that would sustain him, she would feel the tooth of a perpetual hunger, and her life, only half-developed, beat about in restless, weary, unsatisfied consciousness of defect — halting, astray, and stumbling in weakness and sadness to the very end.
A lamp was burning cheerfully on the center table in Doctor Hofland's little parlor, and his wife sat by it sewing, when the doctor came in from a professional call. Tea had been waiting for some time.
"You are late, dear," said Diane, as she received her young husband's fond kiss on almost bridal lips.
"Yes; I went to see a poor woman on Fell's Point. I am attending a Mrs. Helme in Exeter Street, and she told me about her mother down on the Point, who was very ill, and begged me to go and see her; and I could not, of course, refuse. God's poor are always with us, and we cannot turn from them, when they stretch their hands toward us, and "be conscience-clear — at least as a physician, I cannot."
The tea-bell rang at this moment, and they went to the dining-room, where, their single servant having supplied everything for the table, they were alone.
"I didn't tell you that I called to see Lydia this morning," said Mrs. Hofland, as she handed her husband a cup of tea.
"No; how is she?"
"Very well."
"And happy as the day is long," remarked the doctor.
"I don't know about that," replied Diane, a slight change in the sunny glow of her face! "I can't think it possible for a woman of Lydia's peculiar character, to be happy with a man like Adam Guyton."
"He was never a favorite of yours."
"O dear, no! His sphere has always chilled me. My freedom is gone in his presence. I feel like a blossom shrinking in a frost-breath."
"But Lydia found in him, a congenial spirit. All are not alike."
"I cannot but feel," said Diane, "that, in wooing Lydia, Guyton assumed a character not in agreement with his true quality; and today I thought I could detect signs of an awakening to a hard realization of the fact that their lives were not, and never could be, in harmony."
"Adam loves money," said the doctor.
"And means to accumulate it. Lydia said that his salary had been advanced to twelve hundred dollars."
"Ah! I'm pleased to know that!" The doctor spoke with genuine pleasure.
"And it will not cost them six hundred to live, Lydia says."
"So they will be six hundred dollars better off every year. A comfortable prospect."
"And, moreover, Adam anticipates an interest in the firm. Give him that position, said Lydia, and to use his own language, 'he will snap his fingers in the world's face.' Now, doesn't that express the man's true character in a sentence? Snap his fingers in the world's face! He's selfish to the core, Edward — selfish to the core! And, as the sure consequence — he is unhappy. I told Lydia how hopeful and cheerful you were in your small beginnings and clouded future; and she said, with a sigh, that her husband was not so easy in mind. How can he be? Love of money, and the narrow spirit of selfishness, which always accompanies it — are never satisfied with the present, nor resigned as to the future. Men like Adam Guyton are always impatient in the present, because gain comes too slowly for their desires — and restless about the future, lest their one great cast in life should fail."
"He will snap his fingers in the world's face!" said the doctor, in a tone that mingled surprise, regret, and disappointment — as if an unpleasant revelation had come to his mind. "I don't like that, Adam Guyton. Snap your fingers in the world's face! No man can afford to do this. No man is true to himself; far less true to society, who lives in that spirit. I knew he was selfish, and a money lover — but I hardly thought him so blind and foolish in his selfishness as this. Alas for him, and alas for his wife, if his words express a true purpose! Life will prove to him, and it may be to her also, the saddest of failures. The life is more than food, and the body than clothing. What is simple possession — what is wealth — if made more than the life? A burden and a curse — nothing less, nothing more, as thousands, if the heart spoke out, would testify. And yet, the thousands who follow them go on in the same blind, besotted way — stifling the soul's higher instincts, dwarfing its powers, suppressing its yearnings after the things for which it hungers and thirsts with an immortal desire — and for what? Just for gold — for gold, and the unsatisfying good that gold can buy — this, and no more — no more. If Adam is going to walk in the broad way to misery — to misery in this world, I mean, for there is no happiness by the way nor at the end — I pity him from my heart."
"But most of all, I pity Lydia," said Diane. "If Adam will make his bed of husks, and put thorns in his own pillow — let him enjoy them if he can; but for Lydia! Ah, my heart grows faint for her. She is of a purer substance, and of a tenderer organization. She will have no sordid loves to sustain her — no end of worldly gain or worldly pride, like him; and so must endure, or die. This marriage is a serious thing, Edward. Thank God, that you are not like Adam Guyton! Could we be happier in a palace than in this modest home of ours? Would hundreds of thousands of dollars make our hearts beat in closer unison, and fill them with a purer happiness?"
"Not unless our lives were in accord with all things good, and true, and beautiful. Not unless in our souls were the spiritual riches to which this outward wealth corresponded. Anything less than this, and the exchange would be to our loss, instead of gain."
"So I feel, and say, thank God, that you are wiser than most men!" And Diane threw tender glances upon her husband.
"It is one thing to see clearly the right way in which to walk, and another thing to go forward in that way," said the doctor. "I can philosophize — but do not find myself living up to the philosophy I approve."
"That is the experience of everyone," answered Diane. "Our ideals must always embrace unattained good — or there would be no going on toward perfection. But, in our contrasts with others, we are able to see the positions we occupy. Take Adam, for instance, proposing to snap his fingers in the world's face as soon as he is rich enough to care for nobody — and contrast your ends of life with his, as expressed in that declaration. How much higher you stand! You are wiser and better than that, my husband — wiser and better than that, thank God!"
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