CHAPTER XXVII

"YOU say, dear Nina, that hitherto you discover nothing extravagant in the actions or manner of my poor cousin. I am about to give you better proofs of it. My uncle and aunt are without doubt the best Christians and the most charitable souls in the world. They liberally dispense alms to all around them, and it would be impossible to display less pomp or pride in the use of riches than do these worthy relatives of mine. Well, my cousin made the discovery that their manner of living was altogether opposed to the spirit of the Gospel. He wished that, after the example of the early Christians, they should sell all they had and become beggars, after having distributed the proceeds among the poor. If, restrained by the respect and love which he bore them, he did not exactly use words to this effect, he showed plainly what he thought, in bitterly deploring the lot of the poor, who are only born to toil and suffer, while the rich live in luxury and idleness. When he had given away in charity all his pocket-money, it was in his estimation but as a drop of water in the sea, and he demanded yet larger sums, which they dared not refuse him, and which flowed through his hands as water. He has given so much, that you will no longer see a poor person in all the country which surrounds us, and I must add that we find our position nothing the better for it; inasmuch as the wants and demands of the lower orders increase in proportion to the concessions made to them, and our good peasants, formerly so mild and humble, begin to give themselves airs, thanks to the prodigality and fine speeches of their young master. If we had not the power of the imperial government to rely upon, which affords us protection on one hand, while it oppresses us on the other, I believe that, more especially since the succession of the Emperor Charles, our estates and castles might have been pillaged twenty times over by the bands of war-famished peasants which the inexhaustible benevolence of Albert, celebrated for thirty leagues round, has brought upon our backs.

"When Count Christian attempted to remonstrate with young Albert, telling him that to give all in one day was to deprive us of the means of giving any thing the next, 'Why, my beloved father,' he replied, 'have we not a roof to shelter us which will last longer than ourselves, while thousands of unfortunates have only the cold and inclement sky above their heads? Have we not each more clothes than would suffice for one of these ragged and shivering families? Do I not see daily upon our table more meats and good Hungarian wine than would suffice to refresh and comfort these poor beggars, exhausted with fatigue and hunger? Have we a right to refuse when we have so much more than we require? Are we even permitted to use what is necessary while others are in want? Has the law of Christ changed?'

"What reply could the count, the canoness, and the chaplain, who had educated this young man in the austere principles of religion, make to these fine words? They were accordingly embarrassed when they found him take matters thus literally, and hold no terms with those existing arrangements on which, as it appears to me, is founded the whole structure of society.

"It was another affair as regarded political matters. In Albert's eyes, the social arrangements which permitted sovereigns, in conformity with their pride and vainglory, to destroy millions of men and ruin entire countries, were nothing less than monstrous. This intolerance in these respects might have entailed dangerous consequences, so that his relatives no longer ventured to bring him to Vienna, Prague, or any other city where his virtuous fanaticism might have proved fatal to him. They were not even certain as to his religious views; but they knew that there was quite enough in his exalted notions to bring a heretic to the stake. He hated popes, inasmuch as these apostles of Jesus Christ leagued themselves with kings against the peace and majesty of the people. He blamed the luxury, worldly spirit, and ambition of bishops, abbés, and churchmen generally. He repeated sermons of Luther and John Huss to the poor chaplain, and in the meantime passed hours together prostrate on the chapel floor, plunged in ecstasies worthy of a saint. He observed fasts beyond the rigid prescriptions of the Church; it was even said he wore a haircloth shirt; and it required all his father's influence and his aunt's tenderness to induce him to renounce austerities which were only calculated to turn his head.

"When these wise and affectionate parents saw that he was in a fair way to dissipate his patrimony in a few years, and perhaps be thrown into prison as a rebel to the Holy Church and empire, they at last decided on making him travel, hoping that, by seeing men and the laws of nations, which are nearly the same all over the civilized world, he would become accustomed to live like them and with them. They therefore confided him to the care of a tutor, a subtle Jesuit, a man of the world and of tact, if there ever was one, who understood his part at once, and pledged himself in his conscience to undertake all that which they did not even dare to ask of him. To speak plainly, it was thought desirable to corrupt and blunt this untamed soul, and to form it to the social yoke, by infusing drop by drop the sweet and necessary poisons of ambition, of vanity, of religious, political, and social indifference. Do not knit your brows, dear Porporina. My worthy uncle is a simple and upright man, who from his youth has taken all these things as he has found them, and, without hypocrisy and without examination, has learned how to reconcile tolerance and religion, the duties of a Christian and those of a noble. In a world and in an age where, for millions like ourselves, one man like Albert is found, he who keeps with the age and with the world, is a wise man, and he who wishes to go back two thousand years into the past, is a fool, who gives offense to his neighbors and converts nobody.

"Albert traveled for eight years. He visited Italy, France, England, Prussia, Poland, Russia, and even the Turks, and returned through Hungary, Southern Germany, and Bavaria. He conducted himself most prudently during these long excursions, spending no more than the handsome income which his parents allowed him, writing to them numerous and affectionate letters, in which he spoke merely of what he saw, without making any profound observations upon any subject whatever, and without giving his tutor any cause for complaint or ingratitude. Having returned here about the beginning of last year, after the first salutations were over, he retired, as I was informed, to the chamber which his mother had formerly occupied, remained shut up there several hours, and came out very pale to wander alone upon the mountain.

"During this time the abbé spoke confidentially with the Canoness Wenceslawa and the chaplain, who had requested him to give them full particulars respecting the physical and moral condition of the young count. 'Count Albert,' said he, 'whether the effects of travel have produced a complete change in his character, or whether, from what your lordships had related to me of his childhood, I had formed a false idea of him, has shown himself to me, from the first day of our connection, just the same as you have seen him today—gentle, calm, forbearing, patient, and exquisitely polite. This amiable conduct has never varied for a single instant, and I should be the most unjust of men if I advanced a single complaint against him. Nothing of what I feared as to his extravagant expenses, his abruptness, his declamations, or his exalted asceticism, has happened. He has not even once requested to manage for himself the little fortune you confided to me, and has never expressed the least dissatisfaction with my guardianship. It is true that I always anticipated his wishes, and that whenever I saw a poor man approach our carriage, I hastened to send him away satisfied, before he had even time to extend his hand. This method of proceeding succeeded completely; and I may observe, that as the spectacle of misery and infirmity has never saddened his lordship's sight, he has not once seemed to remember his old prepossessions on this point. I have never heard him find fault with any one, blame any custom, or express an unfavorable opinion respecting any institution! That ardent devotion, the excess of which you feared, has apparently given way to a regularity of conduct every way becoming a man of the world. He has seen the most brilliant courts and the highest society of Europe, without appearing either intoxicated or offended at any thing which met his eye. Everywhere he has been remarked for his beauty, his noble bearing, his unobtrusive politeness, and the good taste that distinguished his conversation, which was always well timed and appropriate. His habits have remained as pure as those of a well-educated young girl, and this without showing any prudery or bad taste. He has seen theaters, museums, and monuments; he has conversed calmly and judiciously upon the arts. In fact, I cannot in any way understand the uneasiness he has caused your lordships, having for my part never seen a more reasonable man. If there be any thing extraordinary about him, it is his prudence, his steadiness, and the entire absence of strong desires and passions, which I have never met with in a young man so advantageously endowed by nature, birth, and fortune.'

"All this was in fact only a confirmation of the frequent letters which the abbé had written to the family; but they had always feared some exaggeration on his part, and were only really easy when they found that he could assert the moral restoration of my cousin, without fear of being contradicted by his conduct under the eyes of his parents. They loaded the abbé with presents and caresses, and waited with patience for Albert's return from his walk. It lasted a long time, however; and when at last he arrived at supper hour, they were struck by his paleness and the gravity of his expression. In the first joyful moments of their meeting, his features had expressed a sweet and heartfelt satisfaction which were no longer to be found in them. They were astonished, and spoke of it anxiously in a low voice to the abbé. He looked at Albert, and turning with surprise to those who questioned him, 'I see nothing extraordinary in the count's face,' said he; 'he has the calm and dignified expression which I have always observed during the eight years I have had the honor to accompany him.'

"Count Christian was satisfied with this answer. 'He left us still adorned with the roses of youth,' said he to his sister, 'and often, alas! the victim of a sort of internal fever which gave strength to his voice and brilliancy to his appearance; he returns embrowned by the sun of southern countries, somewhat worn by fatigue perhaps, and with that gravity of manner which becomes a full grown man. Do you not think, my dear sister, that it is better so?'

"'I think, with all this gravity, he looks very sad,' replied my good aunt; 'and I have never seen a young man of twenty-eight so phlegmatic, and with so little to say. He answers us merely in monosyllables.'

"'The count has always been very sparing of his words,' replied the abbé.

"'He was not so formerly,' said the canoness. 'If he spent weeks together in silence and meditation, he had also his days of gaiety and even of eloquence.'

"'I have never,' returned the abbé, 'seen him depart from the reserve which your ladyship remarks at this moment.'

"'Were you better pleased when he talked too much, and said things which made us tremble?' said Count Christian to his alarmed sister. 'That is just the way with women.'

''He was at least alive then,' said she, 'and now he looks like an inhabitant of the other world, who takes no part in the affairs of this one.'

"'That is the unvarying character of the count,' replied the abbé; 'he is reserved; he is a man who never communicates his impressions to others, and who, if I must speak the whole of what I think, is not much impressed by any external objects. Such is the case with cold, sensible, and reflective persons. He is so constituted; and I should fear that in seeking to excite him, the result would be to unhinge a mind so inimical to all action, and to all dangerous undertakings.'

"'Oh! I am certain such is not his true character!' cried the canoness.

"'Madam, I am sure, will overcome the prejudices she has formed against so rare an advantage.'

"'In fact, dear sister,' said the count, 'I think that the abbé speaks very wisely. Has he not by his care and attention produced the result we so much desired? Has he not turned aside the misfortunes which we feared? Albert threatened to be a prodigy, a hair-brained enthusiast. He returns to us such as he should be, to merit the esteem, the confidence, and the consideration of his fellow-men.'

"'But as senseless as a musty volume,' said the canoness; 'or perhaps prejudiced against all things, and disdaining whatever does not agree with his secret instincts. He does not even seem happy to see us, who expected him with so much impatience.'

"'The count was very impatient to return,' answered the abbé; 'I could plainly perceive it, although he did not manifest it openly, He is so timid and reserved!'

"'He is not naturally reserved,' replied she quickly. 'He was sometimes violent, and sometimes tender to excess. He often vexed me; but immediately when that was the case, he threw himself upon my bosom and I was disarmed.'

"'With me,' said the abbé, 'he has never had any fault to repair.'

"'Believe me, sister, it is much better so,' said my uncle.

"'Alas,' said the canoness, 'then he will always have that expression which terrifies me and oppresses my heart!'

"'It is the dignified and noble countenance which becomes a man of his rank,' replied the abbé.

"'It is a countenance of stone!' cried the canoness. 'He is the very image of my mother, not as I knew her, sensible and benevolent, but as she is painted, motionless and frozen in her frame of oak.'

"'I repeat to your ladyship,' said the abbé, 'that this has been Count Albert's habitual expression for eight years.'

"'Alas! then, there have been eight mortal years during which he has not smiled on any one,' said the good aunt, the tears flowing down her cheeks; 'for during the last two hours that I have fixed my eyes upon him, I have not seen the slightest smile animate his closed and colorless lips. Ah! I am almost tempted to rush toward him, and press him to my heart, reproaching him with his indifference, and scolding him, as I used to do, to see if he will not as of old throw himself upon my neck with sobs.'

"'Beware of any such imprudence, my dear sister,' said Count Christian, compelling her to turn away from Albert, whom she still looked at with moistened eyes. 'Do not hearken to the weakness of your loving heart; we have proved sufficiently that excessive sensibility was the bane both of the life and strong reason of our child. By distracting his thoughts, by removing him from every emotion, the abbé, conformably to our advice and that of the physicians, has succeeded in calming that agitated soul; do not now destroy his work, from the caprices of childish tenderness.'

"The canoness yielded to these reasons, and tried to accustom herself to Albert's frigid exterior, but she could not succeed, and frequently said to her brother privately, 'You may say what you please, Christian, but I fear he has been stupified, by treating him not like a man, but like a sick child.'

"When about to separate in the evening they embraced each other. Albert received his father's blessing respectfully, and when the canoness pressed him to her heart, he perceived that she trembled, and that her voice faltered. He began to tremble also, and tore himself quickly from her arms, as if a sharp sense of suffering had been awakened within him.

"'You see, sister,' said the count in a low voice, 'he has long been accustomed to these emotions, and you have caused him pain.' At the same time, uneasy and agitated himself, he followed his son with his eyes, to see if, in his manner toward the abbé, he could perceive any exclusive preference to that person. But Albert saluted his tutor with cold politeness.

"'My son,' said the count, 'I believe I have only fulfilled your intentions and satisfied your wishes by requesting the abbé not to leave you, as he had already proposed, and by obtaining from him a promise to remain with us as long as possible. I did not wish that the happiness of finding our family circle once more reassembled, should be poisoned by any regret on your part, and I hope that your respected friend will aid us in securing that happiness to you without any drawback.'

"Albert answered only by a low bow, and at the same time a strange smile passed over his lips.

"'Alas!' said the canoness, as soon as he had left the room. 'Is that the smile he gives now?'