I knew one man who had been for years a
by-word for having sought the philosopher's stone. But I looked at him
through the spectacles and saw a satisfaction in concentrated
energies, and a tenacity arising from devotion to a noble dream, which
was not apparent in the youths who pitied him in the aimless
effeminacy of clubs, nor in the clever gentlemen who cracked their
thin jokes upon him over a gossiping dinner.
"And there was your neighbor over the way, who passes for a woman who
has failed in her career, because she is an old maid. People wag
solemn heads of pity, and say that she made so great a mistake in not
marrying the brilliant and famous man who was for long years her
suitor. It is clear that no orange flower will ever bloom for her. The
young people make tender romances about her as they watch her, and
think of her solitary hours of bitter regret, and wasting longing,
never to be satisfied. When I first came to town I shared this
sympathy, and pleased my imagination with fancying her hard struggle
with the conviction that she had lost all that made life beautiful. I
supposed that if I looked at her through my spectacles, I should see
that it was only her radiant temper which so illuminated her dress,
that we did not see it to be heavy sables.
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