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curse !” And it was in almost a shriek the "I know it." last words came forth.
“ I never heard of this,” said she, holding “ You cannot know the man, if you say her hands to her temples. " About what this of him," said Lucy, firmly.
time was it?" * Not know him! - not know him! You “ It was on Friday last. I remember the will tell me next that I do not know myself day, because it was the last time I saw poor.
- not know my own name — not know the Tom.” life of bitterness I have lived -- the shame “On Friday last,” said she, pondering. of it — the ineffable shame of it!" and she “ Yes, you are right. I do remember threw herself on her face on the sofa, and that Friday ; ” and she drew up the sleeve sobbed convulsively. Long and anxiously of her dress, and looked at a dark blue did Lucy try all in her power to comfort mark upon the fair white skin of her arm ; and console her. She poured out her but so hastily was the action done that whole heart in pledges of sisterly love and Lucy did not remark it. affection. She assured her of a sympathy that • It was on Friday morning. It was on would never desert her; and, last of all
, she the forenoon of Friday, was it not?” told her that her judgment of Sir Brook “ Yes. The clock struck one, I rememwas a mistaken one; that in the world there ber, as I got back to the house." lived not one more true-hearted, more gen- “Tell me, Lucy,” said she, in a caressing erous, or more noble.
tone, as she drew her arm round the girl's 66 And where did you learn all this, young waist -" tell me, darling, how did Colonel woman?” said the other, passionately. Sewell look after that interview ? did he “ In what temptations and trials of your life seem angry or irritated ? — I'll tell you bave these experiences been gained? Oh, why I asked this some other time — but I don't be angry with me, dearest Lucy; for- want to know if he seemed vexed or chagive this rude speech of mine; my head is grined by meeting this man. turning, and I know not what I
Tell " I did not see him after : he went away me, child, did this man speak to you of my almost immediately after Sir Brook. I husband?"
heard his voice talking with grandpapa in the “ No."
garden, but I went to my room, and we did “ Nor of myself ?”
not meet.” “Not a word. I don't believe he was “ As they spoke in the garden were their aware that we were related to each other.” voices raised ? did they talk like men ex
"He not aware! Why, it's his boast cited or in warmth ? ” that he knows every one and every one's
“ Yes. Their tone and manner were connections. You never heard him speak what you say—so much so that I went without this parade of universal acquaint- away, not to overhear them. Grandpapa, I anceship: But why did he come here? how know, was angry at something, and when did you happen to meet him ?”
we met at luncheon he barely spoke to “ By the merest accident. Tom found me.” him one day fishing the river close to our " And what conclusion did you draw house, and they got to talk together; and it from all this?” ended by his coming to us to tea.
Inti- “ None! There was nothing to induce macy
followed very quick'y, and then a close me to dwell on the circumstance; besides," friendship.”
added she, with some irritation, “ I am not “ And do you mean to tell me that all given to reason upon the traits of people's this while he never alluded to us?”
manner, or their tone in speaking." Never.”
“ Nor perhaps accustomed to inquire, “ This is so unlike him — so unlike him,” when your grandfather is vexed, what it is muttered she, half to herself. " And the irritated him ?” last place you saw bim, where was it ? ” Certainly not. It is a liberty I should Here, in this house.”
not dare to take.” “ Here! do you mean that he came here “ Well, darling,” said she, with a saucy to see you ?”
laugh," he is more fortunate in having you No, he had some buisness with grand- for a granddaughter than me. I'm afraid I papa, and called one morning, but he was should have less discretion at all events not received. Grandpapa was not well, and less dread.” sent Colonel Sewell to meet him.”
“ Don't be so sure of that,” said Lucy, " He sent my husband ! And did he quietly. “Grandpapa is no common person.
It is not his temper but his talent that one is “ Yes.”
loath to encounter." “ Are you sure of that ? ”
I “I do not suspect that either would terrify
me greatly. As the soldiers say, Lucy, 'I utterable pruderies, just as you do this mohave been under fire pretty often, and I ment.' don't mind it now. Do you know, child, “ Without ever suspecting it, certainly,” that we have got into a most irritable tone said Lucy, laughing. with each other? each of us is saying some- “Tear up that odious drawing, dear thing that provokes a sharp reply, and we Lucy," said she, rising and walking the room are actually sparring without knowing it.” with impatience. « Tear it up; or, if you
“ I certainly did not know it,” said Lucy, won't do that, let me write a line under it taking her hand within both her own," and one line, I ask for no more— so that peoI ask pardon if I have said anything to hurt ple may know at whom they are looking.” you.”
“I will do neither ; nor will I sit here to Leaving her hand to Lucy unconsciously, listen to one word against him.” and not heeding one word of what she had “ Which means, child, that your knowlsaid, Mrs. Sewell sat with her eyes fixed on edge of life is so much greater than mine, the floor, deep in thought. " I'm sure, you can trust implicitly to your own judgLucy," said she at last, “ I don't know why ment. I can admire your courage, certainI asked you all those questions a while ago. ly, though I am not captivated by your That man, Sir Brook I mean, is nothing to prudence.” me; he ought to be, but he is not. My fa- • It is because I have so little faith in my ther and he were friends; that is, my father own judgment that I am unwilling to lose thought he was his friend, and left him the the friend who can guide me.” guardianship of me on his death-bed.
Perhaps it would be unsafe if I were to “Your guardian — Sir Brook your guar- ask you to choose between him and me," dian?” cried Lucy, with intense eagerness. said Mrs. Sewell, very slowly, and with her
“ Yes; with more power than the law, I eyes fully bent on Lucy. believe, would accord to any guardian.” I hope you will not.” She paused and seemed lost in thought for “ With such a warning I certainly shall some seconds, and then went on, “ Colonel not do so. Who could have believed it Sewell and he never liked each other. Sir was so 'late ?” said she, hastily looking at Brook took little trouble to be liked by him; her watch ;“ what a seductive creature you perhaps Dudley was as careless on his side. must be, child, to slip over one's whole What a tiresome vein I have got in! How morning without knowing it-two o'clock should you care for all this?”
already. You lurch about this time?" “But I do care — I care for all that con- “Yes, punctually at two." cerns you.”
“ Are you sufficiently lady of the house “ I take it if you were to hear Sir Brook's to invite me, Lucy?” account, we should not make a more bril- “ I am sure you need no invitation here; liant figure than himself. He'd tell you you are one of us.” about our mode of life and high play, and “What a little Jesuit it is,” said Mrs. the rest of it; but, child, every one plays Sewell
, patting her cheek. “ Come, child, high in India, every one does scores of I'll be equal with you. I'll enter the room things there they woulli't do at home, on your arm and say, “ Sir William, your partly because the ennui of life tempts to granddaughter insisted on my remaining; I anything — anything that would relieve it; thought it an awkwardness, but she tells me and then all are tolerant because all are she is the mistress here, and I obey."" equally — I was going to say wicked; but I " And you will find he will be too well don't mean wickedness — I mean bored to bred to contradict you," said Lucy, while a that degree that there is no stimulant left deep blush covered her face and i hroat. without the breach of the decalogue.” “Oh, I think bim positively charming!"
“I think that might be called wicked- said Mrs. Sewell, as she arranged her hair ness,” said Lucy, dryly.
before the glass ; " I think him charming. " Call it what you like, only take my My mother-in-law and I have a dozen word for it you'd do the self-same things if pitched battles every day on the score of you lived there. I was pretty much what his temper and his character. My theory you are now when I left England, and if is, the only intolerable thing on earth is a any naughty creature like myself were to fool; and whether it be that Lady Lendrick talk, as I am doing to you now, and make suspects me of any secret intention to desconfession of all her misdeeds and misfor-Signate one still nearer to her by this restunes, I'm certain I'd have known how to ervation, I do not know, but the declarabridle up and draw away my hand, and re- tion drives her half-crazy. Come, Lucy, we tire to a far end of the sofá, and look un- shall be keeping grandpapa waiting for us."
They moved down the stairs arm-in-arm,, anything - rake, gambler, villain - anywithout a word; but as they gained the door thing, the basest and the blackest ; but of the dining-room Mrs. Sewell turned fully never take a fool, for a fool means them all round and said in a low deep voice, “ Marry, combined.”
THIS PETITION OF THE AMERICAN this country. The result is : the Southern FREE TRADE LEAGUE TO THE SEN- farmer gets only one ton of iron for his bale TIVES OF THE UNITED STATES OF of cotton. The Northern farmer produces AMERICA, IN CONGRESS ASSEMBLED,
so many bushels of wheat. Left free to ex
change it with the blanket-makers of the Respectfully Represents that:
world, he could get, for the same quantity Every man has the right to work for him- of wheat, two blankets where he now gets self, and to enjoy, in full, the fruits of his but one. So it is with all the clothing of own labor.
his family. It is the right of every man to exert his The poor man requires as much of warmth, powers of body and mind for his own good. nourishment, and shelter, as the rich man. It is necessarily, therefore, a right of every The rich man needs no more tea, no more man to take the products of his own skill coffee, no more sugar, no more blankets, no and labor and exchange them freely for the more fuel, than the poor man. In the presproducts of the skill and labor of any other ent system of duties, therefore, the rich man man in the world, on such terms as the two pays but little more than the poor man. It may agree are for their mutual good. is worse than this; for the highest duties
This free exchange of labor concerns only are put upon the coarsest fabrics, which the the two, and cannot injure others. No one rich do not, but which the poor must, use. has the right to medule. No Government A woman cannot dress in the cheapest ought to meddle with or hinder this free manner without paying a tribute of several exchange.
dollars, out of her earnings, to the manufacA Government has the right to take, by turers — a class proverbial for wealth. taxation, so much only as is necessary for When a Government distributes the burits support. It should do so by making the dens of its necessary maintenance so unburden of taxes bear equally on all. If a equally, it does not tax; it robs. Government affords special favor or en- The income of the Government is, of couragement to one form of labor, the other course, lessened by high duties; for revenue forms of labor are neglected, and thus pos- is got on the goods which come in, and the itively discouraged. In this country, the aim of Protective duties is to keep the goods Government cannot give any special en- out. The people pay more, that the Treascouragement or favor to agriculture, be- ury may receive less. Not only is the farmcause we can furnish the products of agri- ing class, and with it the great body of culture much more cheaply than they can consumers, including the mechanics of the be brought hither from any part of the country, made to suffer by a system of proworld. Our country has more than three- tective duties, but the nation in its collectfourths of its people engaged in agricul- ive capacity is impoverished. No doctrine ture; so that our Government cannot, if it can be more fallacious than that which would, by any discriminating tax-laws, pro- maintains that the wealth of a country can tect, as it is called, or favor, the great ma- be increased by restraining its inhabitants jority of those who live by their honest la- from obtaining for their labor the most they bor.' In trying to afford special protection can. or favor to any of the other forms of labor, Protective tariffs are carried through it is clear that the Government is making Congress by a combination of private inlaws for the good of only a small minority, terests; the sugar planter is won over by a and imposing positive and unequal burdens duty greater than the cost of producing suupon the great majority, the farmers. The gar elsewhere; the iron master. the cotton Southern farmer produces, say, a bale of and woolen manufacturers, receive severally cotton ; he can exchange this, in the mark- their separate advantage in the way of speets of the world, if the Government will let cial favor to their occupations; and joining him, for at least two tons of iron. But the forces, they roll the unjust law through to Government steps in and imposes a heavy the wrong of all the rest of the people. duty on iron, not for the support of the These classes are a small minority even of Government, because it would get more the people of their own States; they are, all revenue by means of a lower duty, but for put together, a very minute minority of our the special benefit of the iron masters of whole people. Every farmer, every planter, every laborer, every carpenter, mason, together forever, not only by the forms of sewing-woman, every worker in this coun- law, but by mutual attachment and the try, every consumer, in fact, except the feeling that we are in all respects one peofew who derive a profit from these petted ple, is impartial legislation ; legisiation occupations, is robbed daily and hourly, and which shall not seek to enrich one portion their earnings are put into the pocket of of the country at the expense of others. the favored few.
Regarding it, therefore, as a most unworIn a great number of instances the effect thy and groundless imputation upon our of these protective duties is the grievous countrymen to insist that their ingenuity, oppressio i of the poor. The duties imposed skill and diligence, cannot, without the help on foreign coal cause great misery in all of protective duties, keep pace with the inour large towns on the Atlantic coast genuity, skill and diligence of any other nathrough the dearness of fuel. The duties tion in the world, and holding, moreover, on iron, which have made it enormously that protective duties are unjust and oppresdear, bear heavily on all classes. All kinds sive to the many, enervating to the indusof clothing have become oppressively dear try of the few for whom they are imposed, through the effect of protective duties. Pa- and inconsistent with the principles of civil per, the great vehicle of knowledge, has liberty and the rights of man, the Ameribeen exorbitantly enhanced in price by the can Free Trade League trusts that Congress same means without bringing a dollar into will see the propriety and expediency of rethe treasury of the nation. Formerly books nouncing entirely, in any laws for the raiswere published here more cheaply than in ing of revenue through a customs tariff, the Great Britian. Now that country produces wasteful and mischievous fallacy of Proteccheap books, while we produce clear ones; tion. a result of this tax on knowledge, from
President. which only the paper makers derive any WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT. advantage. In all these instances our coun
Vice-Presidents. try is unhappily imitating the policy which DAVID DUDLEY FIELD, Great Britain pursued so long in the in- LUCIUS ROBINSON, stance of its Corn Laws, which after a long ISAAC H. BAILEY, struggle between the people and the aris- ALFRED PELL. tocracy were not long since abrogated,
Corresponding Secretary. greatly to the benefit of the people and even
CHARLES ASTOR BRISTED. of the landowners themselves; for it is one of the results of the protective system that
ROBERT PELL. it keeps back improvements and tempts the favored classes io rest contented with im
WILLIAM B. SCOTT. perfeet, unskillful, and costly methods of production.
Executive Committee. One plea of the few who are favored by CHARLES MORAN, protective duties is that these duties protect
JACKSON S. SCHULTZ, the labor of this country against the pauper
WILLIAM WOOD, labor of Europe. It is a false plea. For JAMES M. McKAYE, it is plain that it is the interest of the very JAMES E. PULSFORD, men who advance it, to get labor as cheap JOHN COMMERFORD, as they can. Moreover, these very men ALEXANDER DELMAR, are themselves constantly importing work- DANIEL D. T. MARSHALL, ing-people from Europe. It is a false plea SIMON STERN, again, because the laborer in this country JOSHUA LEAVITT, needs no one's protection. The American CHARLES H. BRAMHALL, laborer can protect himself against every- ALFRED PELL, tbing but the revenue laws which make WILLIAM KEMEYS, goods dear. He is protected against inade- ISAAC H. BAILEY, quate wages by the abundance of free land, THOMAS SMULL, ready for his occupation. We should never PARKE GODWIN, have heard of the pauper labor of Europe, WILSON G. HUNT, had the workers there had free lands at ROBERT PELL, hand in their own respective countries, such S. S. COX, as we fortunately bave.
WILLIAM B. SCOTT, The most powerful bond of Union between DAVID DUDLEY FIELD, the different parts of this great country ex- CHARLES ASTOR BRISTED, tending from Ocean to Ocean, holding us i JOHN D. VAN BUREN.
LITTELL'S LIVING AGE. - NO. 1131.-3 FEBRUARY, 1866.
From The North British Review. they have dealt with the humours, not the The Poetical Works of Henry Taylor, D. heart of man, and aimed but to combine a C. L. 3 vols. Chapman and Hall, 1864. skilful plot with a brilliant, superficial
sketch of society. Such was the comedy of The wealth of the present century in Sheridan, whose works are perhaps the Poetry generally has often been contrasted happiest specimens of the style to which with its comparative poverty in the Drama. they belong. But the Shakspearean comeIn most Continental countries the serious dy was another order of composition. It drama has long fallen to a low ebb; and among differed from his tragedy in the absence of ourselves the number of dramatic aspirants a sad catastrophe; but in spite of the gay has en more remarkable than their suc- scenes with which they are so delightfully
There has, however, been one con- varied, such plays as the Merchant of Venice, spicuous exception. Philip van Artevelde The Tempest, and As You Like It, are as fuli at once achieved for its author a place in of serious purpose as Shakspeare's tragedies English literature. It appeared under the themselves. It is not with wit and manners, title of A Dramatic Romance: the public but with character and poetry, that they was not intimidated by the challange of deal. Those trifles on the surface of soci“ Two Parts ;” and repeated editions prove ety with which they sport so buoyantly do that it had in it that which holds its own. not hinder them from descending into the If the theme was a large one, the bandling heart of the humanities. In them joy and was large too; and a style of classical sorrow are allowed to alternate their voices, severity, no less than an abundance of such as they do in the long dispute of human practical thought as is gleaned from the life, although the brighter genius has the fields of experience, showed that the author last word. It is from the imagination and had not grudged that conscientious labour the reason that all genuine poetry springs, which spares labour to the reader. Mr. the imagination claiming in it that first Taylor has now republished this work, with place, which in philosophical inquiry she four other plays, and his minor poems, in a concedes to the more masculine power. revised and complete edition. Of these, The higher drama is thus competent to Isaak Comnenus and Edwin the Fair have measure itself with the whole of human been before the world long enough to take life. There is a music in human laughter their place. We shall break new ground, as well as in sighs, of which reason alone confining our remarks to his two more can discern the law; and there is a depth recent dramas, and his minor poems. They in the humourous which the imagination are destined, unless we are mistaken, to alone can fathom. Ages before a Shakas high a place as his earlier works occupy; speare had been raised up to prove the but we shall be equally frank in our ex- truth of the assertion, the great critic pressions of approval and disapproval. We of antiquity had affirmed, that the intellect shall conclude with some observations on capable of the highest greatness in tragedy the comparative merits and characters of our must be competent in comedy no less. earlier and our later drama, and on the A Sicilian Summer is as bright and relation in which the author of Philip van musical as the southern clime it illustrates, Artevelde stands to both.
and it is full of that wisdom which is never The two dramas are entitled A Sicilian wiser than in its sportive moods. It is not, Summer, and St. Clement's Eve.
however, every reader who will appreciate A Sicilian Summer occupies a peculiar it. Strength touches all: but strength reposition, both in Mr. Taylor's poetry and in fined into grace addresses itself to a select modern literature. Since the earlier part circle. Tragic passion, be it remembered, of the seventeenth century we have had challenges the personal as well as the but few comedies after the genuine Shak- imaginative sensibilities; and as such it
Our modern comedies affects not only a better class, but many have been comedies of wit and manners: likewise who, if they sometimes respond to
VOL. XXXII. 1461.