, with the
experience that now enlightens me, I would pursue a very different
course of action. A passion so wild and strong as that which darkened my
domestic happiness, should be resisted with the energy of reason,
instead of being indulged with the weakness of fear. Every sacrifice
made to appease its violence only paved the way for a greater. Every act
of my life had reference to this one master-passion. I scarcely ever
spoke without watching the countenance of Ernest to see the effect of my
words. If it was overcast or saddened, I feared I had given utterance to
an improper sentiment, and then I blushed in silence. Very unfortunate
was it for him, that I thus fed and strengthened the serpent that should
have been strangled in the cradle of our love; and his mother
unconsciously did the same. She believed him afflicted by a hereditary
malady which should inspire pity, and be treated with gentleness rather
than resistance. Edith, too,--if a cloud passed over his brow, she
exerted every winning and endearing sisterly art to chase the gloom.

The history of man for six thousand years shows, that in the exercise of
unlimited power he becomes a despot. Kingly annals confirm the truth of
this, and domestic records proclaim it with a thundering tongue. There
must be a restraining influence on human passion, or its turbulent waves
swell higher and higher, till they sweep over the landmarks of reason,
honor and love. The mighty hand of God is alone powerful enough to curb
the raging billows. He alone can say, "peace, be still." But he has
ministers on earth appointed to do his pleasure, and if they fulfil
their task He may not be compelled to reveal himself in flaming fire as
the God of retributive justice.

I know that Ernest loved me, with all his heart, soul, and strength; but
mingled with this deep, strong love, there was the alloy of
selfishness,--the iron of a despotic will. There was the jealousy of
power, as well as the jealousy of love, unconsciously exercised and
acquiring by indulgence a growing strength.

My happiness was the first desire of his heart, the first aim of his
life; but I must be made happy in _his_ way, and by his means. His hand,
fair, soft, and delicate as a woman's,--that hand, with its gentle,
warm, heart-thrilling pressure, was nevertheless the hand of Procrustes;
and though he covered the iron bed with the flowers of love, the spirit
sometimes writhed under the coercion it endured.

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