« ПредишнаНапред »
but full of reason and sense and steady the rafts, lightly-clad, softly-stepping trustworthiness from his cradle. She figures, in noiseless boating shoes and had by this time got over the surprise such imitation of boating costume as with which she had slowly come to rec- their means could afford, were lounging ognize in Dick a being totally different about with nothing to do, seated on the from herself. She was no analyst of char- rails drawling in dreary Berkshire speech, acter, and she had accepted the fact with or arranging their boats in readiness for dumb wonder which did not know how the approaching rush. Dick's mother to put itself into words. Even now there approached along the road, without atawaited her many lesser surprises, as tracting any special observation, and got Dick, going on from step to step in life, into conversation with one or two of did things which it never would have oc- these men with the ease which attends curred to her to do, and showed himself social intercourse on these levels of life. totally impervious to those temptations “ If there is a new hand wanted, my lad against which it had been necessary for is dreadful anxious to come," she said. her to struggle. His last declaration to “ Old Harry's looking for a new lad," her was as surprising as anything that answered the man she addressed. And went before it. The nomad's son, who so the talk began. had been “on the tramp” all his life,' “ There was a kind of an accident on whose existence had been spent “ on the the river last night,” she said, after a road," alternating between the noisy ex-while ; “one of the gentlemen got his citement of those scenes of amusement boat upset, and my lad brought it which youth generally loves, and that down - " dull semi-bibernation of the winter which “ Lord bless you, call that a baccigives the tramp so keen a zest for the dent?” said her informant ; “ball-anew start of spring, - was it the boy so dozen of 'em swamps every night. They bred who had spoken to her of a “home," don't mind, nor nobody else." of steady work, and the commonplace “ The name of this one was — Ross, I existence of a man who had learned a think,” she said, very slowly; "maybe trade? She wondered with a depth of you'll know him ?” vague surprise which it would be impos- |“I know him well enough — he's in sible to put into words — for she herself the Victory; not half a bad fellow in his had no words to express what she meant. way, but awful sharp, and not a bit of Had it not happened to chime in with the patience. I seed him come in dripping longing in her own mind to stay here and wet. He's free with his money, and I see the other boy, whose momentary con- daresay he'd pay your lad handsome. If tact had filled her with such excitement, I | I were you, I'd speak to old Harry himdon't know how she would have received self about the place ; and if you say Dick's strange proposal; but in her other you've a friend or two among them agitation it had passed without more young swells, better luck." than an additional but temporary shock “Is this one what you call a swell ?" of that surprise which Dick constantly said the woman. gave her; and she did not count the cost “Why, he's Mr. Ross, ain't he ? that's of the concession she had made to him, Eton for honourable," said one of the the tacit agreement she had come under men. to live under a commonplace roof, and “He aint Mr. Ross," said an older and confine herself to indoor life during this better-informed person, with some conflush of midsummer weather, for the tempt. The older attendants at the rafts longing that she had to know something, were walking peerages, and knew everyif only as a distant spectator, of the life body's pedigree. “His father was Misand being of that other boy.
ter Ross, if you please. He used to be After a while she roused herself and at college in my time; a nice light-haired went over in the ferry-boat to the other sort of a lad, not good for much, but with side of the river, where were “the rafts" heaps of friends. Not half the pluck of to which Dick looked with so much anx-this one: this one's as dark as you, iety and hope. Everything was very missis, a kind of a foreign-looking blade, still at the rafts at that sunny hour be- and as wilful as the old gentleman himfore mid-day, when Eton, shut up in its self. But I like that sort better than the schoolrooms, did its construing drowsily, quiet ones; the quiet ones does just as and dreamed of the delights of “after much mischief on the sly.” twelve" without being able to rush forth “ They're a rare lot, them lads are,” and anticipate them. The attendants on said the other — “shouting at a man
ing some one else as her son, very differ-, wooden railing, and held herself upright ent from Dick. If she had done so, she by it, shutting her eyes to concentrate would have been simply treated as a mad her strength. And by-and-by the bewilwoman : as it was, the bystanders, used dering sick emotion passed ; was it him to tramps of a very different class, looked whom she had seen? at her with instant suspicion, half dis- / After this she crossed the river again in posed to attribute her giddiness and fal- the ferry-boat, though it was a halfpenny tering to a common enough cause. She each time, and she felt the expenditure to mastered herself without fully knowing be extravagant, and walked about on the either the risk she had run or the look other bank till she found Dick, who natudirected to her. “You don't know him,” rally adopted the same means of finding she said. “We came here but last night. her, neither of them thinking of any reOne of the college gentlemen was to turn "home," -a place which did not speak for him. He's a good hard-working exist in their consciousness. Then they lad, if you'll take my word for it, that went and bought something in an eatingknows him best.”
shop, and brought it out to a quiet corner “ Well, missis, it's true as you know opposite the “ Brocas clump," and there him best; but I don't know as we can ate their dinner, with the river flowing at take his mother's word for it. Mothers their feet, and the skiffs of “the gentleain't always to be trusted to tell what they men” darting by. It was, or rather know," said the master, good-humouredly. I looked, a poetic meal, and few people “I'll speak to you another time, for here passed in sight without a momentary envy they are coming. Look sharp, lads." of the humble picnic ; but to Dick Brown “ All right, sir ; here you are.”
and his mother there was nothing out of The tide was coming in - a tide of the way in it, and she tied up the fragboys - who immediately flooded the ments for supper in a spotted cotton place, pouring up-stairs into the dressing-handkerchief when they had finished. rooms to change their school garments It was natural for them to eat out of for boating dress, and gradually occupy-doors, as well as to do everything else ing the rafts in a moving restless crowd.out of doors. Dick told her of his good The woman stood, jostled by the living luck, how kind Valentine had been, and stream, watching wistfully, while boat gave her the half-crown he had received, after boat shot out into the water, -gigs, and an account of all that was to be done with a laughing, restless crew – out for him. “If they don't mind him, riggers, each with a silent inmate, bent they're sure to mind the other gentleon work and practice ; for all the school man," said devout Dick, who believed in races had yet to be rowed. She stood Val's power with a fervent and unquesgazing, with a heart that futtered wildly, tioned faith. After a while he went upon all those unknown young faces and across to the rafts, and hung about there animated moving figures. One of them ready for any odd job, and making himwas bound to her by the closest tie that self conspicuous in eager anxiety to can unite two human creatures ; and yet, please the master. His mother stayed poor soul, she did not know him, nor had still, with the fragments of their meal he the slightest clue to find her out — to tied up in the handkerchief, on the same think of her as anyhow connected with grassy bank where they dined, watching himself. Her heart grew sick as she the boats as they came and went, She gazed and gazed, pausing now upon one did not understand how it was that they face, now upon another. There was one all dropped off one by one, and as sudof whom she caught a passing glimpse, denly reappeared again when the hour as he pushed off into the stream in one for dinner and the hour of “three o'clock of the long-winged dragon-fly boats, who school” passed. But she had nothing to excited her most of all. She could not do to call her from that musing and sisee him clearly, only a glimpse of him be- lence to which she had become habitutween the crowding figures about ;-an ated, and remained there the entire afteroval face, with dark clouds of curling noon doing nothing but gaze, At last, hair pushed from his forehead. There however, she made a great effort, and came a ringing in her ears, a dimness in roused herself. The unknown boy after her eyes. Women in her class do not whom she yearned could not be identified faint except at the most tremendous among all these strange faces; and there emergencies. If they did, they would was something which could be done for probably be set down 'as intoxicated, and good Dick, the boy who had always been summarily dealt with. She caught at the good to her. She did for Dick vhat no one could have expected her to do; she shown in the previous instalinent of these went and looked for a lodging where papers. Provoking as some of the stricthey could establish themselves. After tures must have been to one who had not a while she found two small rooms in a accidentally fallen into what would be house facing the river,- one in which commonly regarded as lyrical heresies, Dick could sleep, the other a room with but who had systematically intended, and a fire-place, where his hot meals, which laboured to do, the very things most dehe no doubt would insist upon, could be murred to — she passes them over in the cooked, and where, in a corner, she her- note about to be given, with only a reself could sleep when the day was over. mote reference ; playfully speaking of her She had a little stock of reserve money dog “Flush," then touching upon the on her person, a few shillings saved, and “ Dead Pan," then turning to other obsomething more, which was the remnant ljects of literary interest, with a nobly exof a sum she had carried about with her pressed admiration of Miss Martineau : for years, and which I believe she intended “to bury her,” according to the
Saturday night (no other date). curious pride which is common among
Never in the world was another such a dog
as my Flush! Just now, because after reading the poor. But as for the moment there
your note, I laid it down thoughtfully without was no question of burying her, she felt
taking anything else up, he threw himself into justified in breaking in upon this little
my arms, as much as to say—“Now it's my hoard to please her boy by such forlorn turn. You're not busy at all now." He unattempts at comfort as were in her power. derstands everything, and would not disturb She ventured to buy a few necessaries, me for the world. Do not tell Miss Mitford and to make provision as well as she – but her Flush (whom she brought to see knew how for the night - the first night me) is not to be compared to mine! - quite which she would have passed for years
animal and dog-natural, and incapable of my under a roof which she could call her
Flushie's hypercynical refinements. There is
not such a dog in the world as he is, I inust own. One of the chief reasons that reconciled her to this step was, that the | Plato swore by. I talk to him just as I should
say again — and never was, except the one room faced the river, and that not Dick I do to the “reasoning animal on two legs” – the alone, but the other whom she did not only difference being that he has four superknow, could be watched from the win-erogatorily. dow. Should she get to know him, per- I am very glad to hear of Miss Martineau haps to speak to him, that other ? — to and “Orion.” She has a fine enthusiasm and watch him every summer evening in his understanding, or rather understanding and boat. floating up and down — to distin- enthusiasm, for poetry, — which shows a wonguish his voice in the crowd, and his
is derful and beautiful proportion of faculties,
considering what she is otherwise. I do not step? But for this hope she could not, IS
I say so because she fancied my “ Pan" think, have made so great a sacrifice I which you may not think worthy of such for Dick alone -a sacrifice she had praise and which she very probably was not been able to make when the doing pleased with on account of its association of it would have been still more im- with her favourite poet Schiller - such portant than now. Perhaps it was be-associations affecting the mind beyond its cause she was growing older, and the incognizance. My “Pan” takes the reverse dividual bad faded somewhat from her of Schiller's argument in his famous “Gods of consciousness; but the change bewil. | Greece," and argues it out. dered even herself. She did it notwith
| No, — nobody has said that “the paper was
the work of a private friend,” [alluding, probstanding, and of her free will.
ably, to some critique I had written about her
E. B. B.
and seasons." The book must and shall come
out this season. TO THE AUTHOR OF “ORION" ON LITERARY AND GENERAL TOPICS.
The next is a fragment found in the IV.
same envelope, the first leaf having gone With how fine a temper, and how gen
astray : erous a spirit Miss E. B. Barrett bore all
Fragment. the objections made to her new theory of Think of my stupidity about Leigh Hunt's English Rhymes, has only been slightly 'poem of “Godiva"! The volume I lent has just returned, and most assuredly there is no that one appreciated the other comsuch poem in it. His late republication may pletely, while the other (viz., Miss Bircontain it - and that also I have lent. You rett) took a sweeping exception to a shall have it in time.
special phase of the genius she so well I hear rumours of greatness in respect of a
a estimated in all other respects. And in Mr. Patmore's new volume of poems just advertised. They are said to be “only second to
to this exception she was, as I considered, Tennyson's by coming secondly'in - which, I only justified in certain respects. however, makes a difference! Tell me, if you | The note begins with an amusing refsee them, what you think of them. He is said erence to something outré wbich had to be quite a young man — that is, a very | been written to Miss Barrett by someyoung man.
body, whose name I was endeavouring to Oh, no — I promise to try not to kill myself guess: then touches briefly on the poems (with over-work] but I am very busy and anx- of Mr. Trench, and passes on to Mr. ious, and can't help being both.
Browning with a striking commentary :We now come to the question of Versification — an Art quite fixed and final if
May ist, 1843. we keep to the old classic system ofl. Your over-subtlety, my dear Mr. Horne, counting feet, or syllables,- and a most
has ruined you! Suspecting me of man-traps
and spring-guns. you shoot yourself with the eel-like subject, chameleon-like, lustrous,
hypothesis of a spring-gun — which takes its dove's-breast-like, chromatic sprite and
place at once among "remarkable accidents.” sylphid, when, boldly diverging from the For- I stated the bare fact when I said "a old, well-known tracks and measurements, man.” Man it was — no woman it was! poets take to the spiritual guidance of man it was, and man it ought to be. Yes, and “airy voices” dictating euphonious ac- it wasn't Leigh Hunt either, I make oath to cents, pauses, beats of time, wavy lilts you! I wish it had been Leigh Hunt. and pulsations, often not amenable to any No man would have ventured to say such a laws except those of musical utterance
thing? Ventured ! — why, you are quite inand emotion. These varied measures,
nocent, Mr. Horne. I won't tell you the name;
(but I affirm to you that those words, as I numbers, utterances, when an attempt is
quoted them, were written by a man, and to made to force them within the confines of
me. And, by no means in jest or lightness of special laws, are very apt, in many in- heart, as a woman would have written them — stances, to find their spirit evaporate, and nor in arch-mock at the infirmities of our nanothing but a caput mortuum remaining ture, as Leigh Hunt might have written them, in its place. Perhaps the greatest diffi. but in grave naïveté, - in sincere earnestness, culty in forming a settled judgment of and without the consciousness of saying any
orice thing out of the way. My last guess was that these new forms of versification arises thing out of th from the fact that one good ear will fred, it came from America.] Now, I wouldn't tell
į you the name for the world. quently be found to differ from another
At the end of your last note you attempt an good ear, with regard to the effect of the in
ne impossible application of a quotation which same rhythinic music. In short, one can I won't be applied in such a manner for two sepread it musically, and another cannot. arate reasons. “I prythee do not mock me." One is delighted with it - the other de. You are quite right. “Anybody can be senounces it. A remarkable instance of vere." As to Mr. Trench, I have only such this will appear in the next of Miss Bar- knowledge of him as extracts in your article rett's letters which I am about to give. and other reviews can give ; and although he it will be found interesting as well as has probably more faculty than many who are curious, from a peculiar circumstance.
| facile and copious, he seems to be dry and
limited, and without impulse in the use of it, In the previous instalment of this series,
and meets, I should think, with liberal justice a note is mentioned which had been ad
at your hands. Browning, however, stands dressed to Miss Barrett's cousin, Mr. I high with me. I want very much to know John Kenyon,- shown to her,- lent to what you mean by his worst fault, which you me, and returned - referring admiringly have not touched upon ? Will you tell me to her bold experiments in novel rhymes. in confidence, and I will promise never to This note, which I had fancied to have divulge it, if you make a condition of secrecy? been written by Landor, I have since Mr. Browning knows thoroughly what a poet's found was written by Mr. Browning.
true work is; – he is learned, not only in proThe Letter I am now about to give has
fane learning, but in the conduct of his genius;
| he is original in common things ; his very obspecial reference to Mr. Browning's
scurities have an oracular nobleness about poetry. It will thus be discovered that them which pleases me. two poets who had never seen each other at this time, were already intimate in im- I cannot help pausing an instant to reagination and intellectual sympathy; - mind the reader that the above critique