Confession - Page 35/274

Surely there is no joy like that which the heart feels in the first

moment when it gives utterance to its own, and hears the avowed

passion of the desired object:--a pure flame, the child of sentiment,

just blushing with the hues of passion, just budding with the

breath and bloom of life. No sin has touched the sentiment;--no

gross smokes have risen to involve and obscure the flame; the altar

is tended by pure hands; white spirits; and there is no reptile

beneath the fresh blossoming flowers which are laid thereon. The

grosser passions sleep, like the fumes at the shrine of Apollo,

beneath the spell of that master passion in whose presence they

can only maintain a subordinate existence. I loved; I had told

my love;--and I was loved in return. I trembled with the deep

intoxication of that bewildering moment; and how I found my way

back to my office--whom I saw on the way, or to whom I spoke, I know

not. I loved;--I was beloved. He only can conceive the delirium of

this sweet knowledge who has passed a life like mine--who has felt

the frowns and the scorn, and the contempt of those who should

have nurtured him with smiles--whose soul, ardent and sensitive,

has been made to recoil cheerlessly back on itself--denied the

sunshine of the affections, and almost forbade to hope. Suddenly,

when I believed myself most destitute, I had awakened to fortune--to

the realization of desires which were beyond my fondest dreams. I,

whom no affection hitherto had blessed, had, in a moment, acquired

that which seemed to me to comprise all others, and for which all

others might have been profitably thrown away.

I fancied now that henceforth my sky was to be without a cloud. I

did not--nor did Julia imagine for a moment that any opposition to

our love could arise from her parents. What reason now could they

have to oppose it? There was no inequality in our social positions.

My blood had taken its rise from the same fountains with her own.

In the world's estimation my rank was quite as respectable as that

of any in my uncle's circle, and, for my condition, my resources,

though small, were improving daily, and I had already attained

such a place among my professional brethren, as to leave it no

longer doubtful that it must continue to improve. My income, with

economy--such economy as two simple, single-minded creatures, like

Julia and myself, were willing to employ--would already yield us

a decent support. In short, the idea of my uncle's opposition to

the match never once entered my head. Yet he did oppose it. I was

confounded with his blunt, and almost rugged refusal.

"Why, sir, what are your objections?"

He answered with sufficient coolness.