The Ottawa free trader. [volume] (Ottawa, Ill.) 1843-1916, 1884-02-23
WHAT IS LOVE!

A Brooklyn girl OF exceptional re-
fnement and common sense, whose
family belongs to the best society, that
is, the most cultivated and most truly
honorable, fell in love, or thought she
did, with her dancing master, young
ignoramus, whose only claim to consid-
Grafton lay in the grace and agility of
his faultlessly shaped legs. This is no
exaggeration. The man knew literally
nothing but his profession, and for this
he was pre-eminently fitted, both by
nature AMI education. When the girls
admiration for her teacher came to the
con seriousness of her family, their anXi-
ETY. can better be imagined than des-
cribed. Steps were at once taken to
counterfeit the obnoxious influence, but
as is usually the case, were too late.
Opposition strengthened the bond, and
after few months Of indescrjbable
anxiety very quiet wedding took
place at the residence of the brides
mother. 1t was the only course posi-
BILE, as a refusal to have the ceremony
at home would have resulted in a run
away performance, which would have
been harder to bear than the other
There was nothing to do but to allow
this rarely gifted girl to throw herself
away in marriage upon a man in every
respect unworthy of her.
.'You will see," she said to her
mother day or two before the we'd
ding, that | am right. You are so
prejudiced against - that it may
take some time before you will &C
knowledge il, but know that we are
exactly fitted to each other. and 81
should be the happiest girl in Brooklyn
ii only things were different at home.
But it is so strange that you, who haye
always been so fair and kind and I'M
selfish, cannot admit the good quail
ties of the man whom SO dearl y love. y
What could this or any other affection
ate and discreet mother say under such
circumstances, knowing as did this one
that destitution and unhappiness as
surely waited for this girl. who
had been reared so tenderIy and edu-
Gated so carefully, rs night is to follow
the dayP But the mothers judgment,
derived from an ample experience, was
worth nothing to her daughter. She,
like all the world must find out for her
self, and suffer and regret like the rest.
The honeymoon of this couple was
shorter even than the wife's friends
had prophesied. just three weeks from
the wedding day the wife presented
herself at the mothers door, and alone.
The first glance at her haggard, sor-
row-stricken face was sufficient TO tell
the whole story, and it needed not the
subsequent broken words, "Mother, l
have come to stay" to paint the whole
dreadful picture. When asked what
the trouble was, she replied:
Not one thing, but everything, 1t
was so different from what had eX-
pected. "
"Oh, yes," the mother answered,
"but if that is all you have no excuse,
Marriage is net like garmentthat can
be put on and off at pleasure.
The response was as desperate as 1t
was unexpected.
al shall not blame you if you refuse
to give me shelter, "she said, but l
will never speak to - again as long
as live. There is one resource left to
me, and assure you that death is inf
nitely preferable to one hour in that
mans society,""
There was no more exaggeratlon IN
this statement than there had been
about the one previously made in refer
ence to the strength of her love for this
man whom she now as strongly detest-
ed. We know that this attraction does
not endure even between persons OF
the same social standing, and of SINH
| lar tastes and culture. So it is clear
that there is something that we call
love, and which lasts as long as life en-
dures, and something else which re-
sembles it so perfectly that up to date
there is no way to distinguish between
the two. So, what is love, and what is
the ephemeral attraction that closely
resembles it? If the marital mistakes
and miseries which have occurred in
other generations could only profit this
one, there would then be some good
accomplished by past suffering Per
haps there is no other way 10y which
development can so surely be attained
as by yoking together men and women
who are totally unsuited to each other
If the intention of Divinity is to shape
our ends rough" there is certainly no
rougher method that could be employ
ed. But all the same We want to know
what is love, and what's the something
called love, but which is no more like
it than the pure, newly fallen snow is
like the mud in the gutter.