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his child. Sara, obeying his movement, stood Meanwhile Sara had gone into Mrs. Swayne's still also with her eyes cast down, and just little dark parlour, out of the sunshine, and had showing a glimmer of malice under their lids, seated herself at Pamela's post in the window, with the colour glowing softly, in her cheeks, very dreamy and full of thought. She did not with the ghost of a smile coming and going even speak for a long time, but let her little round her pretty mouth. "Oh child, child !” friend prattle to her. "I saw you and Mr. was all Mr. Brownlow said. He was moved to Brownlow coming down the avenue," said Pasmile in spite of bimself, but he was more mela ; " what a long time you were, and how moved to wonder. After all, she was making a strange it looked! Sometimes you had a great joke of it t-or was it really possible that, in this deal to say, and then for a long time you would careless smiling way, the young creature, who walk on and on, and never look at each other. had thrust her life into his hands like a flower, Was he scolding you? Sometimes I thought to be disposed of as he would, was going for. he was. ward to meet all unknown evils and dangers ? Sara made no answer to this question; she The sober, steady, calculating man could un- only uttered a long, somewhat demonstrative derstand a great many things more abstruse, but sigh, and then went off upon a way of her own. he could not understand this.
I wonder how it would have felt to have had. This, however, was about the end of their a mother?” she said, and sighed again to her conference, for they had reached old Betty's companion's great dismay. cottage by this time, who came out, ungrate- “ How it would have felt?” said Pamela; ful old woman as she way, to curtsy as hum- “ That is just the one thing that makes me bly to Mr. Brownlow if he had been feel I don't envy you. You have quantities and twenty old squires, and to ask after his heaith. quantities of fine things, but I have mamma." And Sara had occasion to speak to lier_friend “ And I have papa,” said Sara, quickly, not Pamela on the other side of the way. It was disposed to be set at a disadvantage; "that not consistent with the father's dignity, of was not what I meant. Sometimes, though you course, to go with her to visit those hum. may think it very wicked, I feel as if I was ble neighbours, but he stood at the gate rather glad; for, of course, if mamma had been with old Betty behind in a whirl of curtsies, living it would have been very different for me; watching whilo Sara's tall, straight, graceful and then sometimes I think I would give a great figure went across the road, and Pamela, with deal Look here. I don't like talking of her little, fresh, bright, dewy face, like an April such things; but did you ever think what you morning, came running out to meet her. “Poor would do if you were married ? Fanny Hardlittle thing !” Mr. Brownlow said to himself -- castle likes talking of it. How do you think though he could not have explained why he you should feel ? to the — gentleman, you was sorry for Pamela; and then he turned know?” back slowly and went home, crossing the long “ Think," said Pamela; “does one need to shadows of the trees. He was not satisfied with think about it? love him, to be sure." And himself or with his day's work. He was like a this she said with a rising colour, and with two doctor accustomed to regard with a cool and rays of new light waking up in her eyes. impartial eye the diseases of others, but much Ah, love him," said Sara ; " it is very easy at a loss when he had his own personal pains in to talk ; but how are you to love him? that land. He was uneasy and ashamed when he does not come of itself just when it is told, you was alone and reminded himself that he had know; at least I suppose it doesn't - I am suro managed very badly. What was he to do? I never tried.” Was he to act as a doctor would, and put his “But if you did not love him, of course you alomestic malady into the hands of a brother would not marry him," said Pamela, getting practitioner? But this was a suggestion at confused. which he shuddered. Was he to take Jack into Yes — that is just one of the things it is so his counsel and get the aid of his judgment? – easy to say,” said Sara ; " and I suppose at but Jack was worse, a thousand times worse, your age you don't know any better. Don't you than a stranger.
Ho had all his life been con- know that people have to marry whether they sidered a very clever lrwyer, and he knew it : like it or not? and when they never, never he had got scores of people out of scrapes, and, would have thought of it themselves ? I supone way or other, half the country was behold- pose,” said Sara, in the strength of her superior en to him; and he could do nothing but yet knowledge, “that most of us are married like liimself deeper and deeper into his own misera- that. Because it suits our people, or because — ble scrape. Faint thoughts of making it into “a I don't know what -- anything but one's own
and taking opinions on it-taking will.” And this little speech the young martyr Wrinkell's opinion, for instance, quietly, his again rounded with a sigh. old friend who had a clear head and a great “Are you going to be married ?” said Pa. deal of experience came into his mind. He mela, drawing a footstool close to her friend's had made a muddle of it himself. And then the feet, and looking up with awe into her fare. "I Rector's question recured to him with still wish you would tell mo. Mamma has gone to greater force — could it be softening of the Dewsbury, and she will not be back for an hour. brain? Perhaps it would be best to spenk to Oh, do tell me — I will never repeat it to anythe doctor first of all,
body: And, dear Miss Brownlow, if you don't | avenue obliquely in two-the one end all love him"
light, the other all gloom. The two young “ Husb,” said Sara, “I never said anything creatures ran lightly across the shady end, Saabout a him. It is you who are such a romantic ra, as always, leading the way. Her mind, it little girl. What I was speaking of was one's is true, was as full as it could be of her father's duty; one has to do one's duty whether one communication, but the burden sat lightly on likes it or not.”
her. Now and then a word or two would tinThis oracular speech was very disappointing gle, as it were, in her ears; now and then it to Pamela. She looked up eagerly with her would occur to her that her fate was sealed, as bright eyes, trying to make out the romance she said, and a sigh, half false half true, would which she had no doubt existed. “I can fan come to her lips; but, in the mean time, she cy,” she said, softly," why you wanted your was more amused by the novelty of the posi. mother; and her little hand stole into Sara's, tion than discouraged by the approach of which lay on her knee. Sara did not resist the fate. soft caress. She took the hand, and pressed it “What are you thinking of?” she said, when close between her own, which were longer, and they came into the tender light in the further not so rounded and childlike; and then, being a part of the avenue; for the two, by this time, girl of uncertain disposition, she laughed, to Pa- had slackened their pace, and drawn close tomela's great surprise and dismay.
gether, as is the wont of girls, though they did “I think, perhaps, I like to be my own mis- not speak. tress best,” she said ; if mamma had lived she
"I was only looking at our shadows going never would have let me do anything I wanted before us,” said Pamela, and this time the little to do- and then most likely she would not girl cchoed very softly Sara's sigh. have known what I meant. It is Jack, you They are not at ali beautiful to look at; they know, who is most like mamma.”
are shadows on stilts,” said Sara ; "you might “But he is very nice,” said Pamela, quickly; think of something more interesting than and then she bent down her head as quickly, that." feeling the hot crimson rushing to her face, But I wish something did go before us. liko though she did not well know why. Sara took that to show the way,” said Pamela. I wish no notice of it -never observed it, indeed — and it was true about guardian angels - if we could kept smoothing down in her own her little only see them, that is to say, and then it is so neighbour's soft small hand.
difficult to know" “Oh, yes,” she said, “and I am very fond “What,” said Sara ; "you are too young to of my brother; only he and I are not alike, you want a guardian angel; you are not much more know. I wonder who Jack will marry, it hc than a little angel yourself. When one has beever marries; but it is very fine to hear him gun to go daily further from the east, one knows talk of that perhaps he never did to you. He the good of being quite a child.”. is so scornful of every body who falls in love, “But I am not quite a child,” said Pamela, and calls them asses, and all sorts of things. I nnder her breath. should just like to see him fall in love himself. "Oh
yes, you are. But look, here, Jack If he were to make a very foolish marriage it must be coming ; don't you hear the wheels? would be fun. They say those dreadfully wise I did not know it was so late. Shall you mind people always do.”
going back alone, for I must run and dress? “Do they? said Pamela; and she bent And please come to me in the morning as soon down to look at the border of her little black as ever they are gone, I have such heaps of . silk apron, and to set it to rights, very oner- things to say." getically, with her unoccupied hand. But she Saying this, Sara ran off, flying along under did not ask any further questions; and so the the trees, she and her shadow; and poor little two girls sat together for a few minutes, hand Pamela, not so much distressed as perhaps she clasped in hand, the head of the one almost ought to have been to be left alone, turned back touching the other, yet each far afield in her towards the house. The dogcart was audible own thoughts ; of which, to tell the truth, before it dashed through the gate, and Pamela's though she was so much the elder and the wiser, heart beat, keeping time with the ringing of the Sara's thoughts were the least painful, the least mare's feet and the sound of the wheels. But heavy, of the two.
it stopped before Betty's door, and some one “ You don't give me any advice, Pamela,” jumped down, and the mare and the dogrart she said at last. “Come up the avenue with and the groom dashed past Pamela in a kind of me at least. Papa has gone home, and it is whirlwind. Mr. John had keen cyes, and saw quite dark here out of the sun. Put on your something before him in the avenuo; and ho hat and come with me. I like the light when was quick-witted, and timed his inquiries after it slants so, and falls in long lines. I think Betty in the most prudent way. Before Pameyou have a headache to-day, and a walk will la, whose heart beat louder than ever, was halfdo you good.”
way down the avenue, he had joined her, eviYes, I think I have a little headache,” said dently, whatever Betty or Mrs. Swayne might Pamela, softly; and she put on her hat and say to the contrary, in the most purely accidenfollowed her companion out. The sunshino tal way. had passed beyond Betty's cottage, and cut the This is luck,” said Jack ; "I have not seen
you for two whole days, except at the window, get everything for one's self. Shouldn't you like which doesn't count. I don't know how we that? Better than all the nonsense and all the managed to endure the dulness before that ceremony here,” said Jack, bending down to see window came to be inhabited. Come this way under the shade of her hat, which, as it hapa little under the chestnuts you have the sun pened, was difficult enough. in your eyes."
“ We don't have much ceremony,” said Pa“Oh, I don't mind,” said Pamela, “and I mela, “but if I was a lady like your sismust not wait; I am going home.”
ter I suppose you have been walking with Sa- “Like Sara !” said Jack; and he nodded his ra, and she has left you to go home alone,” said head with a little brotherly contempt. "Don't Jack; “it is like her. She never thinks of be anything different from what you are, please. anything. But tell me what you have been I should like people to wear always the same doing these two frightfully long days?
dress, and keep exactly as they were when Froin which it will be seen that Mr. John, as the first time, you know. I like you, for inwell as his sister, had made a little progress stance, in your red cloak. I never see a red towards intimacy since he became first acquaint- cloak without thinking of yon. I hope you ed with the lodgers at Mrs. Swayne's. will keep that one for ever and ever," said the
“I don't think they have been frightfully philosophical youth. As for Pamela she could long days,” said Pamela, making the least little not but feel a little confused, wondering whethtimid response to his emphasis and to his eyes er this, or Sara's description of her brother,
wrong, no doubt, but almost inevitable. I was the reality. And she should not have have been doing nothing more than usual ; known what to answer but that the bell at the mamma has wanted me, that is all.”
house interfered in her behalf, and began to " Then it is too bad of mamma,” said Jack; sonnd forth its touching call — a sound that you know you ought to be out every day. I could not be gainsaid. must come and talk to her about it - air and “ There is the bell,” she cried ; " you will be exercise, you know.”
too late for dinner. Oh, please, don't come any “But you are not a doctor,” said Pamela, further. There is old Betty looking out.” with a soft ring of laughter — not that he was “Bother dinner,” said Mr. John, “and old witty, but that the poor child was happy, and Betty too,” he added under his breath. He had showed it in spite of herself; for Mr. John had taken her hand, the same hand which Sara had turned, and was walking down the avenue, very been holding, to bid her good-bye, no doubt in slowly, pausing almost every minute, and not the ordinary way. At all events, old Betty's at all like a man who was going home to din- vicinity made the farewell all that politeness
He was still young. I suppose that was required. But he did not leave her until he why he preferred Pamela to the more momen- hud opened the gate for her, and watched her tous fact which was in course of preparation at enter at her own door. “When my sister the great house.
leaves Miss Preston in the avenue,” he said, a little of everything,” he said ; “I turning gravely to Betty, with that severe proshould like to go out to Australia, and get a priety for which he was distinguished, be sure firm, and keep sheep. Don't you like the old you always see her safely home; she is too stories and the old pictures with the shepherd- young to walk about alone.” And with these esses? If you had a litile hut all covered with dignified words Mr. John walked on, having flowers, and a crook with ribbons ”
seen the last of her, leaving Betty specchless Oh, but I should not like to be a shepherd- with amazement. As if I done it !” Betty ess,” cried Pamela, in haste.
said. And then he went home to dinner. “Shouldn't you? Well, I did not mean that; Thus both Mr. Brownlow's children, though he but to go out into the bush, or the backwoods, did not know it, had begun to make little specor whatever they call it, and do everything, and | ulations for themselves in undiscovered ways.
JASPER. - This durable and beautiful sub-, brown, green, &c., that at present used for jewstance, observes the Scientific Review, which has ellery being green with red spots. It resists for hitherto been obtainable only in limited quanti- indetinite periods the action of the weather, and ties, chiefly from Siberia and Russia, is now is an excellent material for ornamentation, procured, to almost any required extent, at whether as stands for small objects, &c., or as Saint Gervais, in Savoy, where the quarry has panels, columns, &c., to be used by the archia surface of at least 24,000 square yards, and a tect. Some of what is found at Saint Gervais depth of about twenty-two yards. It is a variety bears close resemblance to the beautiful species of quartz, which is characterized by being termed rouge antique ; it is of a fine red, and opaque, however thin the plates into which it without veins. may be cut, and is of various colours — red,
From Fraser's Magazine, companions, as well as look at his strange CHARLES LAMB.
life and delightful character from within,
by his own light. We know with what "How pleasant it is to reflect that all quiet heroism he bore his load for life; how these lovers of books have themselves become lightly he jested with his lips when his books,' says Leigh Hunt, when thinking heart was so heavy at times; how deftly he over his favourite book-lovers of the past. turned his mortal pain into immortal pleasAnd, be continues, I should like to remain ure for us. The key to Charles Lamb's visible in this shape. I should like to sur- writing may be found in his unique charvive so, were it only for the sake of those acter, and the main clues to his character who love me in private, knowing as I do, are visible in his life. what a treasure is the possession of a friend's Lamb was born almost in penury, and mind, when he is no more! In glancing brought up as a charity boy. This is the with Leigh Hunt round our book-shelves plain truth, although the good Sergeant we cannot but feel that of all human spirits Talfourd amiably tries to festoon the fact who remain visible in book shape, to keep and drape Lamb's first entrance on the immortal company with us, there is not one stage of life as elegantly as he can. He has who comes nearer home to us than Charles a knack of cutting the beef with the hamLamb. His writings are at the head of knife to ennoble the flavour: or shall we say, those which we take closely to heart in a he tells the truth so lovingly? And so sort of bed and board acquaintanceship, blandly does he allude to the poor parents because the authors have given themselves who were endued with sentiments and to us so intimately in the shape of their with manners which might well become the books, that they come near to us in the gentlest blood,' and the daily, beauty of a warmth of real life; the spirit being so much cheerful submission to a state bordering on more than the mere letter. In the visibility the servile,' that on our first introduction of embodied personality, the books of Charles we feel a pervading air of gentility. In Lamb are of a kind in which the species spite of which, Charles Lamb was one of almost constitutes the genus. He lives in those favourite children of nature who get them as fully, as vividly, as Johnson does in put out to that old nurse of many heroic Boswell's Life and draws us to him by a tie spirits the stern mother — Poverty. of tenderer love. He keeps on talking to
Charles Lamb was born on the 18th of us, not like a book, but as in life, making February 1775, in one of the chambers of the the old curious inquisition into the common- Temple. His father was clerk to Mr. Samplaces of nature, and minor motives of hu- uel Salt, a barrister, one of the benchers of manity, with the old quaint mental twist in the Inner Temple, or rather, he was a kind his views; the naiveness that makes confes- of factotum, doing all the service that his sion so charming ; passing over his own master required, and doing it cleverly too. troubles with that pathetic briskness with The father's family came from Lincolnshire, which his freakish humour kept the face of the mother's from Hertfordshire, and Lamb things astir, like a phosphorescent sea at in one of his essays claims the latter county night, to hide the darkling depths below ; for his native fields.' Lamb never atthe wit luminous in his eye, the stammer on tempted to trace his ancestry beyond two his tongue, the touch of St. Vitus in his or three generations. Perhaps he shared mental movement; his frank heart and open in the feeling illustrated by Sydney Smith, hand making his frailties more human than who said his grandfather had disappeared some good people's virtues ; - and the ac- about the time of the assizes, and they quaintanceship keeps growing until we made no further inquiries. He certainly know him personally, even as Hunt and had no false pride on the subject of his Hazlitt, Jem White or Wordsworth did, as birth, and he left it to his brother John to dear lovable and gentle Charles Lamb. keep up the dignity of their house.
With the work of his friend Mr. Proctor Lamb had only one brother and one sister; (or Barry Cornwall) most probably closes John being twelve and Mary ten years the record of Charles Lamb's life. We older than himself. He spent the first know now all that we are likely to gather seven years of his life in the Temple. from personal observers. The story is told, There he had early access to Mr. Salt's or rather we have the complete data for a books, and was tumbled into a spacious story that will be told again and again so closet of good old English reading, and long as the English language lives in this browsed at will on that fair and wholesome world. We are enabled to see him as he pasturage.' It is thus he speaks of his sister lived and moved in the eyes of friends and Mary, but the description doubtless applies
to himself. Here he first began to wander | sionary brow and talk of coming glories and in those twisted walks of literature, which vast projects as he looked down long shinhe loved so much in after days, and snuff ing vistas of the future. His influence on the odour of old books, as fragrant to him Lamb was unquestionably great, and the as the blossoms of the tree of knowledge friendship deepened all through life. Such which
grew in the happy orchard.' He a radiating mind could not come near others seems to have been a born antique in cer- without warming and quickening them into tain tendencies; and these early surround- a larger life. In dedicating his first collected ings, which threw over him a shadow of the works to Coleridge (1818), Lamb says, past, must have deepened that antique · You first kindled in me, if not the power, colouring of his mind.
yet the love of poetry, and beauty, and From the long line of dark chambers, kindliness. But in matters political and and narrow lane and lowering archway, the religious, Lamb never became a very enboy issued forth to walk the old and awful thusiastic disciple. He listened and woncloisters of Edward. When he was nearly dered at the new heavens that rose, like eight years of age he was presented to the an exhalation,' over the old earth at the inschool of Christ's Hospital, where he remain-cantation of Coleridge's talk; but a bit of ed as a scholar for some seven years. Here pavement that he could feel firm under foot he appears to have been a little like Char- was more to the mind of Lamb than all the lotte Bronté when she first went to school cloudlands going. He had not the large and her companions were romping around diffusive imagination of his friend, and his her: she said she could not play - she had whole nature clung to those realities that not learned to play. • While others were help to concentrate the mind here and nou. all fire and play, he stole along with all the He dwelt in the present, and was no dim self-concentration of a young monk. And explorer of the future; he nestled in the here he learned, amongst other things, to homely valleys, and did not range the question the propriety of 'grace before mountain tops of thought. Whatsoever meat,' especially such graces as prefaced poetic tinge the mind of Lamb may have their cold bread and cheese suppers with caught from the glory of Coleridge's sunrise, a preamble, connecting with that humble it certainly was not dyed for life with any blessing a recognition of benefits the most colour not its own. awful and overwhelming to the imagina- On leaving Christ's Hospital, Lamb had tion, which religion has to offer.' He also to enter the workday world instead of golearned the value of having a home near at ing to college, as he would have wished. hand, and the preciousness of a sister Mary His brother John had a comfortable clerkin it. To her thoughtful care, he was in ship in the South Sea House,' and from debted for many little additions to the the old and awful cloisters' to this grave school-fare, such as slices of extraordinary above ground Lamb went to continue his bread and butter,'• lumps of double refined musings and colour his mind, and earn a litsugar,' a smack of ginger or cinnamon to tle money. The old house stood, says Lamb, make his mess of millet' less repugnant, amongst so many richer houses, their poor and, crowning treat of all, a hot plate of neighbour out of business.? Some forms of roast veal,' or the more tempting griskin' business were still kept up, but the soul had that had been cooked at home. These long since fled. Lamb tells us that the abdainties were brought to him by his good sence of bustle was delightful, the indolence old aunt, who would toddle' off with any almost cloistral. With what reverence he good thing she could get for him; and he would pace the great bare rooms and courts used to feel ashamed to see her come and at eventide. How he would ponder over sit down on the old coal-hole steps' and the dead tomes’ and ancient portraits; open her apron and bring out her basin. I the dusty maps of Mexico, dim as dreams,' remember,' says Lamb, the contending and soundings of the bay of Panama.' passions at the unfolding - there was love At seventen years of age, Lamb obtained for the bringer; shame for the things an appointment as clerk in the accountant's brought, and the manner of its bringing ; office of the East India Company, and in sympathy for those who were too many to the India house he served for the space of share in it; and at the top of all, hunger thirty-three years. It has been a matter of predominant.'
regret to many that Charles Lamb should Lamb remained at Christ's Hospital seven have been doomed for so long to the drudyears. Here he made the acquaintance of gery of the desk. And, naturally enough, he Coleridge, who was his elder.by two years, did not take to it because he liked it, and who had already begun to lift up his vi- but because he was in the habit of sub