Whom God Hath Joined: A Question of Marriage — David Hume — John Shaqi
Whom God Hath Joined: A Question of Marriage
David Hume · en
CHAPTER I.
TWO FRIENDS.
"Like doth not always draw to like--in truth
Old age is ever worshipful of youth,
Seeing in boyish dreams with daring rife,
A reflex of the spring time of its life,
When sword in hand with Hope's brave flag unfurled,
It sallied forth to fight the blust'ring world."
It was about mid-day, and the train having emerged from the darkness
of the St. Gothard tunnel, was now steaming rapidly on its winding
line through the precipitous ravines of the Alps, under the hot glare
of an August sun. On either side towered the mountains, their rugged
sides of grey chaotic stone showing bare and bleak at intervals amid
the dense masses of dark green foliage.
Sometimes a red-roofed châlet would appear clinging swallow-like to
the steep hill-side--then the sudden flash of a waterfall tumbling in
sheets of shattered foam from craggy heights: high above, fantastic
peaks swathed in wreaths of pale mist, and now and then the glimpse of
a white Alpine summit, milky against the clear blue of the sky.
On sped the engine with its long train of carriages, as though anxious
to leave the inhospitable mountain land for the fertile plains of
Italy--now crawling fly-like round the giant flank of a hill--anon
plunging into the cool gloom of a tunnel--once more panting into the
feverish heat--sweeping across slender viaducts hanging perilously
over foaming torrents--gliding like a snake under towering masses of
rock--and running dangerously along the verge of dizzy precipices,
while white-walled, red-roofed, green-shuttered villages, shapeless
rocks, delicately green forests, snow-clad peaks, and thread-like
waterfalls flashed past the tired eyes of the passengers in the train
with the rapidity of a kaleidoscope.
And it was hot--the insufferable radiance of the southern sun, blazing
down from a cloudless sky, beat pitilessly on the roofs of the railway
carriages, until the occupants were quite worn out with the heat and
glare from which they could not escape.
In one of the first-class carriages two men were endeavouring to
alleviate the discomfort in some measure, and had succeeded in
obtaining a partial twilight by drawing down the dark blue curtains,
but the attempt was hardly successful, as through every chink and
cranny left uncovered, shot the blinding white arrows of the sun-god,
telling of the intolerable brilliance without.
One of the individuals in question was lying full length on the
cushions, his head resting on a dressing-bag, and his eyes half
closed, while the other was curled up in a corner on the opposite
side, with his hands in his pockets, his head thrown back, and a
discontented look on his boyish face, as he stared upward. Both
gentlemen had their coats off, their waistcoats unbuttoned and their
collars loose, trying to make themselves as comfortable as possible in
the sweltering heat.