Page:Once a Week Jul - Dec 1859.pdf/388

5, 1859.] “It is  strange  that  we  should  have  met  by chance,”  she  said,  speaking  rapidly. “I can tell you  what  you  might  never  have  known had we  not  met. Your uncle  loved  my  mother, Mr. Deane. They never  met  after  she  was  married. But at  her  funeral — she  is  buried  abroad — a stranger stood  by  the  grave  weeping. That stranger was  Mr. Deane. He had  not  expected to see  my  father  there. But he  was  there; and, taking the  stranger  by  the  arm,  my  father  spoke to him. From that  hour  they  became  dear friends: the man  who  had  loved,  and  been  loved —oh, so  fondly  1 — and  he  who  had  loved  and never been  loved  again. This picture  is  a copy  of one  I have. My father  had  it  taken  some  time during the  first  year  of  his  married  life. It was copied for  your  unde  with  my  father’s  leave. Your unde  was  with  my  father  on  his  death-bed. It is  a strange  tale,  Mrv  Deane  1 But  it  is  time  to go  now. We shall  be  here  next  Thursday.”

We shook  hands,  and  civil  speeches  were  made to me  by  Lady  Worth.

As Lady  Worth  turned  round  to  see  after  her children, I offered  my  hand  again  to  Mrs.  Barrington, and  said,  as  she  took  it  with  a frank smile:

“Mrs. Barrington, have  you  a sister?”

One keen,  quick  look  from  those  eyes,  usually so soft  and  gay,  followed  by  a glance  of  intense amusement, vexed  me— vexed  me  through  and through like  a sharp  irritating  pain. Instantly her face  changed — she  had  read  my  countenance. She never  took  her  eyes  from  mine,  but  looked  at me  sweetly,  fearlessly;  and,  with  a wondering, almost questioning  kindness  in  her  voice,  said:

“No!”

When they  had  been  gone]  five  minutes,  that past was  like  a dream.

ANA.

Scotch to  thk  Back-bone. — The terrace  behind Fife House,  Whitehall,  which  looks  upon  the Thames, is  made  entirely  of  gravel  brought  up by  sea  from  Banffshire; the  old  Earl  of  Fife,  when he was  made  a British  peer  some  century  ago, having vowed  that  if  he  was  forced  to  live  in London  half  the  year,  at  all  events  he  would always walk  on  Scottish  soil.

A Word about  Hungerford  Market. — Our readers probably  know  that  Hungerford  Market derives its  name,  in  some  way  or  other,  from  a member  of  the  Hungerford  family. They may not, however,  be  aware  that  Sir  Edward  Hungerford, the  worthy  knight  who  built  and  endowed Hungerford Market,  lived  in  three  centuries,  having been  bom  in  1596,  and  having  died  in  1711, at the  great  age  of  115  years. As the  market stands upon  the  site  of  the  old  town-house  of  the family, we  are  at  liberty  to  imagine  that  the Thames smelt  purer  and  ran  with  a more  silvery and salubrious  stream  in  the  days  of  good  old  Sir Edward than  in  the  present  age. The ancient  and noble family  of  Hungerford  at  one  time  held  very large possessions  in  Wiltshire  and  Gloucestershire, the principal  seat  and  residence  being  at  Farley Castle, Wilts,  not  far  from  Bath.

Cornwallis and  Pitt  on  the  Duke  of Wellington. — The opinion  of  Cornwallis  on  the Duke of  Wellington  is  expressed  in  a letter  to Sir  John  Shore  (Cornwallis  Correspondence),  so early  as  June  10th,  1796. “Dear Sir, — I beg leave to  introduce  to  you  Colonel  Wesley,  who  is lieutenant-colonel  of  my  regiment. He is  a sensible man,  and  a good  officer; and  will,  I have  no doubt,  conduct  himself  in  a manner  to  merit  your approbation. ” The Marquis  Wellesley,  in  a letter addressed to  the  late  John  Wilson  Croker,  and which was  privately  printed,  details  an  account  of his  last  interview  with  Pitt,  then  dying  at  Putney Hill, in  which  Pitt  said  of  his  brother  Arthur, “I never met  any  military  officer  with  whom  it was  so  satisfactory  to  converse. He states  eveiy difficulty before  he  undertakes  any  service,  but none after  he  has  undertaken  it.”  The  Marquis, coming away  from  Pitt’s  death-bed,  met  Colonel Shawe in  the  Park,  and  told  him,  in  addition  to the  statements  in  this  letter,  that  Pitt  congratulated himself  on  now  having  found  a General  to pit  against  Napoleon  Bonaparte.

AN AMERICAN  APPLE  FROLIC.

The stranger  in  New  England  is  surprised  not only by  the  gravity  of  its  people,  and  the  dissociation of women  from  such  amusements  as  they  have,  but also by  the  absence  of  those  festivals  which  are  so common  in  other  lands. This singularity  deserves analysis; for which  purpose  it  will  be  necessary to recur  to  the  national  antecedents. The Church of Rome  arranges  her  calendar  so  as  to  associate devotional feeling  with  the  change  of  seasons — the hope  of  seed-time,  joy  of  harvest,  beauty of summer,  repose  of  winter — profiting  by  their spiritual symbolisation,  whereof  man  has  an instinctive,  though  vague,  apprehension,  as  is  manifested in  Polytheistic  religions. These festivals, wisely retained  by  England  after  the  Reformation, were distasteful  to  the  Puritan  fathers  of  New England, from  their  pagan  origin,  as  enjoined  by prelatical  authority,  and  because,  according  to their  austere  conception,  mirth  was  unseemly  and displeasing to  heaven! Henoe these  semi -ancestors interdicted the  festivals  of  their  ancestral  land, as heathenish  and  papistical; and  consequently, between the  influence  of  a dark  Manichean  creed and legislative  enactments,  cheerfulness  was  dissociated from  religion  and  the  daily  life  of  men; imaginative delights  were  termed  "carnal,”  and  a gloom  settled  on  the  land.  Now,  as  nature  cannot be  violently  repressed  in  her  legitimate  action without  positive  injury,  these  innocent  recreations being  interdicted,  the  New  Englander  found  in  less praiseworthy  pursuits  gratification  for  his  desire of  emotion.  The  later  Evangel  of  Poor  Richard, whereof  the  philosopher  Franklin  was  the  apostle, being  enunciated,  the  pursuit  of  gain  was  consecrated as  the  prime  object  of  life  to  an  immortal  being, and  the  sordid  maxims  of  a penurious  huxter  were engrafted  on  the  public  policy  of  a great  nation.

This exterminated  many  of  the  noblest  impulses, and the  imaginative  love  of  beauty,  branded  as ungodly  by  the  Puritans,  was  now  regarded  as  unprofitable  in  a pecuniary  light,  and  recreations  were condemned wholesale  as  entailing  loss  of  time. The