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up the staircase, and lies down between page); the words you were writing the king and queen in their bed-royal; when your mother came in, and said this very night I dare say she will it was all over — she was MARRIED perch upon poor old Goody Two- Emily married — to that insignificant shoes's meagre bolster, and whisper, little rival at whom you have laughed “ Will the gentleman and those ladies a' hundred times in her company. ask me again? No, no; they will Well, well; my friend and reader, forget poor old Twoshoes." Goody! whoe'er you be — old man or young, For shame of yourself! Do not be wife or maiden - you have had your cynical. Do not mistrust your fellow- grief-pang. Boy, you have lain awake creatures. What? Has the Christmas the first night at school, and thought morning dawned upon thee ninety of home. Worse still, man, you have times? For fourscore and ten years parted from the dear ones with bursthas it been thy lot to totter on this ing heart; and, lonely boy, recall the earth, hungry and obscure ? Peace bolstering an unfeeling comrade gave and goodwill to thee, let us say at this you; and lonely man, just torn from Christmas season. Come, drink, eat, your children — their little tokens of rest a while at our hearth, thou poor affection yet in your pocket - pacing old pilgrim! And of the bread which the deck at evening in the midst of God's bounty gives us, I pray, brother the roaring ocean, you can remember reader, we may not forget to set aside how you were told that supper was a part for those noble and silent poor, ready, and how you went down to the from whose innocent hands war has cabin and had brandy and water and torn the means of labor. Enough! biscuit. You remember the taste of As I hope for beef at Christmas, I vow them. Yes; forever. You took them a note shall be sent to Saint Lazarus whilst you and your Grief were sitting Union IIouse, in which Mr. Rounda- together, and your Grief clutched you bout requests the honor of Mrs. Two- round the soul. Serpent, how you shoes's company on Friday, 26th have writhed round me, and bitten December.

me!

Remorse, Remembrance, &c., come in the night season, and I feel you gnawing, gnawing !

I

tell you that man's face was like AUTOUR DE MON CHAPEAU. Laocoon's (which, by the way, I

always think over-rated. The real NEVER have I seen a more noble head is at Brussels, at the Duke tragic face. In the centre of the Daremberg's, not at Rome). forehead there was a great furrow of That man! What man? That care, towards which the brows rose man of whom I said that his magnifipiteously. What a deep solemn grief cent countenance exhibited the noblest in the eyes! They looked blankly at tragic woe. He was not of European the object before them, but through blood. He was handsome, but not of it, as it were, and into the grief beyond. European beauty. His face whiteIn moments of pain, have you not not of a Northern whiteness; his eyes looked at some indifferent object so? protruding somewhat, and rolling in It mingles dumbly with your grief, their grief. Those eyes had seen the and remains afterwards connected Orient sun, and his beak was the with it in your mind. It may be eagle's. His lips were full. The

indifferent thing - book beard, curling round them, was unwhich you were reading at the time kempt and tawny. The locks were when you received her farewell letter of a deep, deep coppery red. The (how well you remember the para- hands, swart and powerful, accusgraph afterwards - the shape of the tomed to the rough grasp of the words, and their position on the wares in which he dealt, seemed un

some

used to the flimsy artifices of the bath. I suppose I would ask you to laugh at He came from the Wilderness, and its that man's grief? It is you, clumsy sands were on his robe, his cheek, his cynic, who are disposed to sneer, tattered sandal, and the hardy foot it whilst it may be tears of genuine covered.

sympathy are trickling down this nose And his grief - whence came his of mine. What do you mean by sorrow? I will tell you. He bore it laughing? If you saw a wounded in his hand. He had evidently just soldier on the field of battle, would concluded the compact by which it you laugh? If you saw a ewe robbed became his. His business was that of her lamb, would you laugh, you of a purchaser of domestic raiment. brute? It is you who are the cynic, At early dawn - nay, at what hour and have no feeling: and you sneer when the city is alive - do we not all because that grief is unintelligible to hear the_nasal cry of “Clo?" In you which touches my finer sensibiliParis, Habits Galons, Marchand ty. The OLD-CLOTHES’-Man had d'habits, is the twanging signal with been defeated in one of the daily batwhich the wandering merchant makes tles of his most interesting, checkered, his presence known. It was in Paris adventurous life. I saw this man. Where else have I Have you ever figured to yourself not seen him? In the Roman Ghetto what such a life must be? The pur- at the Gate of David, in his fathers' suit and conquest of twopence must once imperial city. The man I mean be the most eager and fascinating of was an itinerant vender and purchaser occupations. We might all engage of wardrobes - what you call an ... in that business if we would. Do not Enough! You know his name. whist-players, for example, toil and

On his left shoulder hung his bag; think, and lose their temper over sixand he held in that hand a white hat, penny points? They bring study, which I am sure he had just pur- natural genius, long forethought, chased, and which was the cause of memory, and careful historical expethe grief which smote his noble fea- rience to bear upon their favorite tures. Of course I cannot particular- labor. Don't tell me that it is the sixize the sum, but he had given too much penny points, and five shillings the for that hat. He felt he might have rub, which keeps them for hours over got the thing for less money. It was their painted pasteboard. It is the not the amount, I am sure; it was desire to conquer. Hours pass by. the principle involved. He had given Night glooms. Dawn, it may be, fourpence (let us say) for that which rises unheeded ; and they sit calling threepence would have purchased. for fresh cards at the “ Portlartd,” or He had been done: and a manly shame the “Union,” while waning candles was upon him, that he, whose energy, splutter in the sockets, and languid acuteness, experience, point of honor, waiters snooze in the ante-room. should have made him the victor in Sol rises. Jones has lost four pounds: any mercantile duel in which he Brown has won two; Robinson lurks should engage, had been overcome by away to his family house and (maya porter's wife, who very likely sold hap, indignant) Mrs. R. Hours of hin the old hat, or by a student who evening, night, morning, have passed was tired of it. I can understand his away whilst they have been waging grief. Do I seem to be speaking of this sixpenny battle. What is the it in a disrespectful or flippant way? loss of four pounds to Jones, the gain Then you mistake me. He had been of two to Brown? B. is, perhaps, so outwitted. He had desired, coaxed, rich that two pounds more or less are schemed, haggled, got what he want- as nought to him ; J. is so hopelessly ed, and now found he had paid too involved that to win four pounds canmuch for his bargain. You don't not benefit his creditors, or altex his

I re

condition ; but they play for that | licious novels. I look up and watch stake: they put forward their best the eager eye flashing down the page, energies : they ruff, finesse (what are being, for my part, perfectly contentthe technical words, and how do I ed with my twaddling old volume of know ?) It is but a sixpenny game if " Howel's Letters,” or “ The Gentleyou like; but they want to win it. man's Magazine.' I am actually arSo as regards my friend yonder with rived at such a calm frame of mind the hat. He stakes his money: he that I like batter-pudding. I never wishes to win the game, no

the hat should have believed it possible; but merely. I am not prepared to say it is so. Yet a little while, and I may that he is not inspired by a noble am- relish water-gruel. It will be the age bition. Cæsar wished to be first in a of mon lait de poule et mon bonnet de nuit. village. If first of a hundred yokels, And then the cotton extinguisher why not first of two ? And my friend is pulled over the old noddle, and the the old-clothes’-man wishes to win little flame of life is popped out. his game, as well as to turn his little Don't you know elderly people who sixpence.

make learned notes in Army Lists, Suppose in the game of life and Peerages, and the like? This is the it is but a twopenny game after all batter-pudding, water-gruel of old age. you are equally eager of winning. The worn-out old digestion does not Shall you be ashamed of your ambi- care for stronger food. Formerly it tion, or glory in it? There are could swallow twelve hours' tough games, too, which are becoming reading, and digest an encyclopædia. to particular periods of life.

If I had children to educate, I member in the days of our youth, would, at ten or twelve years of age, when my friend Arthur Bowler was an have a professor, or professoress, of eminent cricketer. Slim, swift, strong, whist for them, and cause them to be well-built, he presented a goodly ap- well grounded in that great and usepearance on the ground in his flannel ful game. You cannot learn it well uniform. Militâsti non sine gloria, when you are old, any more than you Bowler, my boy! Hush! We tell no can dancing or billiards.

In our tales. Mum is the word. Yonder house at home we youngsters did not comes Charley his son. Now Charley play whist because we were dear obehis son has taken the field, and is fa- dient children, and the elders said mous among the eleven of his school. playing at cards was “a waste of Bowler senior, with his capacious time.” A waste of time, my good waistcoat, &c., waddling after a ball, people! Allons! What do elderly would present an absurd object, where- home-keeping people do of a night as it does the eyes good to see Bowler after dinner? Darby gets his newsjunior scouring the plain - a young paper; my dear Joan her“ Missionary exemplar of joyful health, vigor, ac- Magazine” or her volume of Cumtivity. The old boy wisely contents ming's Sermons and don't you himself with amusements more be- know what ensues? Over the arm of coming his age and waist ; takes his Darby's arm-chair the paper flutters sober ride; visits his farm soberly to the ground unheeded, and he perbusies himself about his pigs, his forms the trumpet obligato que vous ploughing, his peaches, or what not? savez on his old nose. My dear old Very small itinier amusements in- Joan's head nods over her sermon terest him; and (thank goodness!) na- (awakening though the doctrine may ture provides very kindly for kindly- be). Ding, ding, ding: can that be disposed fogies. We relish those things ten o'clock? It is time to send the which we scorned in our lusty youth. servants to bed, my dear -- and to bed I see the young folks of an evening master and mistress go too. But kindling and glowing over their de- I they have not wasted their time plays

ing at cards. Oh, no! I belong to a | I offer him my card my winning Club where there is whist of a night; card. As he retires with the two and not a little amusing is it to hear shillings, blaspheming inwardly, every Brown speak of Thompson's play, curse is a compliment to my skill. and vice versa. "But there is one man I have played him and beat him; and

- Greatorex let us call him — who a sixpence is my spoil and just reward. is the acknowledged captain and This is a game, by the way, which primus of all the whist-players. We women play far more cleverly than all secretly admire him. I, for my we do. But what an interest it impart, watch him in private life, heark- parts to life! During the whole en to what he says, note what he or- drive home I know I shall have my ders for dinner, and have that feeling game at the journey's end; am sure of awe for him that I used to have as of my hand, and shall beat my advera boy for the cock of the school. sary. Or I can play in another way. Not play at whist? “Quelle triste I won't have a cab at all, I will wait vieillesse vous vous préparez !were the for the omnibus : I will be one of the words of the great and good Bishop damp fourteen in that steaming vehiof Autun. I can't. It is too late cle. I will wait about in the rain for an now. Too late! too late! Ah! hu-hour, and 'bus after 'bus shall pass, miliating confession ! That joy but I will not be beat. I will have a might have been clutched, but the place, and get it at length, with my life-stream has swept us by it – the boots wet through, and an umbrella swift life-stream rushing to the near- dripping between my legs. I have a ing sea. Too late! too late! Twen- rheumatism, a cold, a sore throat, a ty-stone my boy! When you read in sulky evening, - a doctor's bill tothe papers “ Valse à deux temps,'

morrow perhaps? Yes, but I have and all the fashionable dances taught won my game, and am gainer of a to adults by“ Miss Lightfoots," don't shilling on this rubber. you feel that you would like to go in If you play this game all through and learn? Ah, it is too late! You life it is wonderful what daily interest have passed the choreas, Master Twen- it has, and amusing occupation. For ty-stone, and the young people are instance, my wife goes to sleep after dancing without you.

dinner over her volume of sermons. I don't believe much of what my As soon as the dear soul is sound Lord Byron the poet says ; but when asleep, I advance softly and puff out he wrote, “ So, for a good old gentle- her candle. Her pure dreams will be manly vice, I think I shall put up all the happier without that light; with avarice," I think his lordship and, say she sleeps an hour, there is meant what he wrote, and if he prac- a penny gained. tised what he preached, shall not As for clothes, parbleu ! there is quarrel with him. As an occupation not much money to be saved in clothes, in declining years, I declare I think for the fact is, as a man advances in saving is useful, amusing, and not life as he becomes an Ancient Briton unbecoming. It must be a perpetual (mark the pleasantry) — he goes amusement. It is a game that can without clothes. When my tailor be played by day, by night, at home proposes something in the way of a and abroad, and at which you must change of raiment, I laugh in his win in the long-run. I am tired and face. My blue coat and brass buttons want a cab. The fare to my house, will last these ten years. It is seedy? say, is two shillings. The cabman What then? I don't want to charm will naturally want half a crown. I anybody in particular. You say that pull out my book. I show him the my clothes are shabby? What do I distance is exactly three miles and care? When I wished to look well fifteen hundred and ninety yards. in somebody's eyes, the matter may

have been different. But now, when I look at one another. They pretend I receive my bill of 10l. (let us say) they can answer. They can tell you at the year's end, and contrast it with the plot and principal characters old tailors' reckonings, I feel that I of the last novel. Some of them have played the game with master know something about history, geolotailor, and beat him; and my old gy, and so forth. But of the natuclothes are a token of the victory. ral history of home - Nichts, and for

I do not like to give servants board- shame on you all! Honnis soyez! For wages, though they are cheaper than shame on you ? for shame on us ! household bills; but I know they In the early morning I hear a sort save out of board-wages, and so beat of call or jodel under my window, me. . This shows that it is not the and know 'tis the matutinal milkman money but the game which interests leaving his can at my gate. O houseme. So about wine. I have it good hold gods! have I lived all these years, and dear. I will trouble you to tell and don't know the price or the me where to get it good and cheap. quantity of the milk which is delivered You may as well give me the address in that can? Why don't I know? of a shop where I can buy meat for As I live, if I live till to-morrow fourpence a pound, or sovereigns for morning, as soon as I hear the call of fifteen shillings apiece. At the game Lactantius, I will dash out upon him. of auctions, docks, shy wine-mer- How many cows? How much milk, chants, depend on it there is no win-on an average, all the year round? ning; and I would as soon think of What rent ? What cost of food and buying jewelry at an auction in dairy servants? What loss of aniFleet Street as of purchasing wine mals, and average cost of purchase ? from one of your dreadful needy wine- If I interested myself properly about agents such as infest every man's my pint (or hogshead, whatever it be) door. Grudge myself good wine ? of milk, all this knowledge would enAs soon grudge my horse corn. sue; all this additional interest in Merci ! that would be a very losing life. What is this talk of my friend, game indeed, and your humble ser- Mr. Lewes, about objects at the seavant has no relish for such,

side, and so forth ? * Objects at the But in the very pursuit of saving seaside ? Objects at the area-bell: there must be a hundred harmless de- objects before my nose: objects lights and pleasures which we who which the butcher brings me in are careless necessarily forego. What his tray : which the cook dresses and do you know about the natural his- puts down before me, and over which tory of your household? Upon your I say grace! My daily life is surhonor and conscience, do you know rounded with objects which ought to the price of a pound of butter? Can interest me. The pudding I eat (or you say what sugar costs, and how refuse, that is neither here nor there; much your family consumes and and, between ourselves, what I have ought to consume? How much lard said about batter-pudding may be do you use in your house? As I taken cum grano - we are not come think on these subjects I own I hang to that yet, except for the sake of down the head of shame. I suppose argument or illustration) - the pudfor a moment that you, who are read-ding, I say, on my plate, the eggs ing this, are a middle-aged gentleman, that made it, the fire that cooked it, and paterfamilias. Can you answer the tablecloth on which it is laid, and the above questions? You know, sir, so forth – - are each and all of these you cannot. Now turn round, lay objects a knowledge of which I may down the book, and suddenly ask acquire — a knowledge of the cost Mrs. Jones and your daughters if they

They cannot. They * "Seaside Studies.” By G. H. Lewes.

can answer.

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