16

morning. If the service had lasted a month longer, there would
have been an end of the invalid.

Who can doubt the influence of travelling dresses upon travellers,
when they reflect that the poor Comte de
once of making a journey to the other world, because he had once
thought more than
put on his robe de chambre at the wrong time in this.

I was sitting by my fireside after dinner, wrapped in my travel-
ling dress, surrendering myself voluntarily to its influence, whilst
waiting the hour of departure, when the vapours of digestion mount-
ing to my brain, so obstructed the passages through which the ideas
pass to reach the senses, that all communication between them was
interrupted; and, as my senses could no longer transmit any idea
to my brain, that, in its turn, could not send out the electric fluid
that animates them, and with which the ingenious Dr. Valli resus-
citates dead frogs.

It may easily be perceived, after reading this preamble, why my head fell upon my breast, and how the muscles of the thumb and forefinger of my right hand, being no longer excited by that fluid, relaxed so much, that a volume of the works of the Marquis Carraccioli, which I held pressed between them, escaped without my perceiving it, and fell on the hearth.

I had been receiving some visitors, and my conversation with them had turned on the death of the celebrated physician Cigna, who had recently died, and who was universally regretted; he was learned and indefatigable, a good physician, and an admirable botanist. The merits of this able man occupied my thoughts; and yet, said I to myself, if I were permitted to evoke the souls of all whom he sent to the other world, who knows whether his reputation would not suffer some diminution?

Insensibly, I went on to a dissertation on medicine, and the progress made in it since the time of Hippocrates. I asked myself whether the famous personages of antiquity who died in their beds, such as Plato, the celebrated Aspasia, and Hippocrates himself, died like ordinary people, of a putrid, inflammatory, or worm fever; if they were bled and drenched with medicines.

However this may be, while I resigned myself to these reflections, my eyes closed together, and I fell into a profound sleep; but in closing my eyes, the image of the persons on whom I had been thinking remained painted upon that fine tissue which is called memory, and these images mixing themselves up in my brain with the idea of calling up the dead, I soon saw Hippocrates, Plato, Pericles, Aspasia, and Dr. Cigna in his wig, arrive together.

I saw them seat themselves on chairs ranged round the fire; Pericles alone remained standing, reading the newspapers.

"If the discoveries of which you speak were true," said Hippocrates to the Doctor, "and if they had been as useful in medicine as you pretend, I should have seen the number of men who daily descend to the regions of gloom diminish; but the usual list, according to the registers of Minos, which I have examined myself, is still the same as heretofore."

Dr. Cigna turned towards me :-" have, doubtless, heard these discoveries -"You mentioned," said he to me; "you are acquainted with that of Harvey on the circulation of the blood; that of the immortal Spallanzani on digestion, of which we now know all the mechanism."-And he went on to give a long account of all the discoveries which have relation to medicine; and the multitude of remedies which chemistry has supplied; he ended, at length, with an academical discourse in favour of modern medicine.

"Am I to believe," I then replied, "that these great men are ignorant of all you have been telling them, and that their souls, released from the fetters of matter, find anything obscure in all nature ?"-" Ah, how great is your error !" cried the proto-physician of Peloponessus; the mysteries of nature are alike concealed to the dead as to the living; he, who has created and who directs all, alone knows the great secret which men endeavour in vain to discover; this is all that we know with certainty on the borders of Styx; be advised by me," added he, addressing himself to the Doctor, "divest yourself of the remains of that worldly spirit which

you have brought away with you from your mortal abode;
of men cannot prolong their existence for a single moment; since
since the labours of a thousand generations, and all the discoveries
and
let us weary ourselves longer in defending an art, which
Charon ferries over in his boat the same number of shades; do not
the famous Hippocrates, to my great astonishment.
dead where we are, can be of no use, even to physicians." So spoke
among the

conviction, nor conceal the truth, not only did he agree with Hip-
Doctor Cigna smiled; and, as spirits cannot oppose themselves to
pocrates, but he even avowed, blushing after the manner of ghosts,
that he had always been inclined to his opinion.

finding it suddenly brought to an end in an unexpected manner, Plato, who had listened to our conversation without speaking, took up the discourse in his turn. "I can conceive," he said to us, branch of physics are useless in medicine, which can never change "how the discoveries which your great men have made in every the course of nature except at the expense of human life; but doubtless the case is not the same with the researches which have been made on political science. The discoveries of Locke on the nature of the human mind, the invention of printing, the accumuwhich have spread science even among people; so many wonders lated observations drawn from history, so many profound books have, doubtless, at length contributed to render men better; and age I lived in made me regard as an impracticable dream, is doubtless realised in the present day." that wise and happy republic which I had imagined, but which the

phers, had taken up a journal of the fashions, which lay upon the Aspasia, who had yawned at the dissertations of the philosochimney-piece, and had been turning it over for some time.

find in the pages I have been turning over, deserve the same fate as your wig; they are so very extravagant." The fair Athenian "I assure you," said Aspasia, "that most of the head-dresses I found great amusement in running over these prints, and was with good reason astonished at the variety and whimsicality of modern young lady, wearing one of the most elegant head-dresses, which dress. She was struck by one figure especially; it was that of a Aspasia only objected to as being a little too high; but the muslin which covered her neck was of such extraordinary amplitude, that scarcely one half of her face was discernible. Aspasia, not being aware that this prodigious magnitude was obtained by the use of starch, could not conceal her surprise, which would have been parent. redoubled in an opposite sense, if the muslin had been trans

"But

present day adopt a dress fitted rather to conceal than to clothe them; they scarcely suffer us to see their faces, by which alone pray inform us," continued she, "why the women of the their sex can be recognised, so much is the form of the body

"The Comte de

rected to herseli, the famous ghosts the shades.

concealed by the fantastic folds of their drapery! Among all the figures represented in these pages, not one permits the neck, the arms, or the legs to be seen; how is it that you young warriors have not attempted to get rid of such a costume? Apparently," continued she, "the virtue of the women of the present day, which is typified in their garments, far surpasses that of my contemporaries." she ceased speaking, Aspasia fixed her eyes As upon me, and seemed to expect my answer. I pretended not to notice her, and, to evince my inattention, I took up the tongs, and thrust the remains of Dr. Cigna's wig, which had escaped the flames, into the fire. Then, perceiving that one of the fastenings of Aspasia's sandals was undone, I said, "Permit me, charming lady;" and, so saying, bent hastily forward, extending my hands towards the chair where I believed I saw those beautiful legs which formerly caused even sage philosophers to dote.

I

I am certain that, at the moment, verged upon absolute somnambulism, for I actually made the movement I speak of; and, leaping lightly into my arms, banished but Rosine, who was really reposing herself evoked by my travelling-dress, once more on the chair, understood my action as di

to

CHAPTER I.-THE ARTIST'S FAMILY.

Saran, our eldest daughter, who has just completed her 17th year, will take care of her little brothers and sisters, whilst you will

In one of those sordid and populous parts of London bordering attend to your occupations. Sarah is a good-natured, sweet girl,

2

heart broken by grief, summoned his children to the bedside of his
wife, and taking them one after another in his arms, presented
them to their mother, who, kissing them all, said, “ Adieu, my
dear ones; I leave you unwillingly, but God calls, and I must obey."
Then turning to Sarah, the eldest daughter who had not left the
bedside, she addressed her in the solemn voice of death.

64

Sarah, my daughter!" she said, "I trust them to you. them more than a sister; be their mother, assist and console your Be to father. I bless you my daughter for the good you will do to them all." The young girl had inclined herself to receive the maternal benediction. When she rose her head, she found herself by the side of a corpse. The soul of the mother had fled with this last thought of her children.

After having performed the funeral duties to her who had been the companion of his happier days, and who had also shared the sorrows of his mature age, Thomas Osby took refuge with his five children in two miserable rooms, which he rented for twelve shillings a month of an old fishwoman, named Maggy Graham. The painter made the first room his workshop, the other was occupied by his children. In this wretched lodging, where they had neither fire in the winter nor air in the summer, nor even sufficient food for existence, the poor family were doomed to suffer. Osby endeavour to provide for the present wants of his children by In vain did putting a low price on his talents; he did not succeed either in selling those pictures already finished, or in obtaining orders for new ones. In order to earn a few shillings, the artist was often glad to go into the dockyard, and there to draw popular scenes, or likenesses of the sailors, and even to accept as payment, fish, biscuits, or beer.

In the meantime debts were increasing; the baker refused to give longer credit; the old landlady, Maggy Graham, to whom Osby owed the rent of six months, threatened to give him notice to quit, or rather to put him out of doors. The children half naked, in spite of the care and industry of Sarah, were shivering with cold and crying for bread in a corner of their father's workshop, while their eldest sister was endeavouring in vain to comfort them by sweet words and caresses. of Thomas Oshy, the 14th of February, 1673. On this day at Such was the position of the family 9 o'clock in the morning, some one knocked at the door; Sarah opened it, and Maggy Graham the landlady entered.

Maggy was a tall, strong woman, whose manners and conversation sufficiently betrayed her calling. Economical to niggardiness, irascible to violence, like most of the other women of her trade, she exhausted upon her unfortunate lodgers the whole vocabulary of words used in the market among the costermongers. Maggy was in the daily habit of using insulting epithets to others, and receiving hard words in her turn. Quarrellings and grumblings were necessary to her existence. After all, her heart was not a bad one; she was, in reality, humane and charitable; but her good qualities were like the virtues of the ale-house woman of St. Paul, compared by the poet Chancer to a diamond embedded in mud.”

Your father is not at home, Sarah?" said Maggy on entering

the room.

"No, my good Mistress Graham," answered the young girl in

a sweet voice.

66

That man always goes out so early, that the devil himself would be too late to find him," exclaimed Maggy, still, I must see him after all; things cannot always pass over with promises and conversations between us. Six months' rent was due yesterday, and I have not yet seen the colour of his money. It is now almost four guineas he owes me, and I cannot have patience any longer.'

66

Oh, my good Mistress Graham!” replied Sarah, "I assure you my poor father is not any more able to pay you to-day than he was yesterday."

66

What! he will not give me any money to-day," interrupted Maggy, stamping her foot on the ground; "and how does he suppose I am to live? I have certainly not the treasures of a Nabob. My two houses on the Quay, this small place, and my trade is all my fortune. I know very well that rumour says I am rich; but I can assure you, I have quite enough to do to make both ends meet. Times are rather hard, and every one knows best where the pack-saddle is hurting most. Besides, that son of mine, whom I sent to Oxford to complete his studies, spends a great deal of money; he makes, you know, a gentleman of himself, and associates with the sons of lords and baronets. In short, Sarah, I want money; and you may tell your father that if he cannot give me some this evening, he will be turned out to-morrow morning. What! my good mistress," said the poor girl, raising her beautiful eyes, filled with tears, towards the landlady, "will you have the barbarity to turn us into the street in the midst of the

66

not find barbarity in creditors, one should show a good intention.
"The barbarity! barbarity! Nonsense! Well, if one would
There are so many things to be done-arrangements to be made,
her fish without money? It would be nice indeed if I could; well,
money to be paid on account; do you suppose old Maggy can buy
then, I want money; the fisherman does not give credit, and the
the stall, for the accommodation of me and my customers. Now,
soles, the whitings, and the lobsters, will not come of themselves on
then, my last word, Miss Sarah: If your father does not give me a
guinea this evening, he will have to look out for another lodging."
long; we will go to-morrow out of your house.'
Well, mistress," replied Sarah, "our removing will not take
One guinea only on account, and you may stav," said the
fishwoman.

66

be found, Mistress Maggy? We have not even a shilling to buy
One guinea!" exclaimed the girl;
bread for these poor children, who are almost starving with want."
one guinea! Where is it to
As she thus spoke, she pointed to a heap of rags, where the four
children of the painter were lying asleep.

generally rough and rude, became illuminated by a beam of
At this painful sight, Maggy's anger vanished; her features,
humanity, and she advanced towards the children.
and the voice of the fishwoman became almost tremulous in asking
"They have not eaten the whole day long, did you say, Sarah?"
this question.
ham. Pray do not awake them; they would ask for bread, and I
They have not; neither to-day nor yesterday, Mistress Gra-
have not a bit to share with them.

46

The fishwoman took no notice of this injunction, but bent down on the bedding of the poor children.

quite sure they could not look better if they had had four meals a "How pretty they are, poor little cherubs!" said she. "I am day. What nice rosy checks, and fine curly hair; their hands too, so plump and fair!"

them the pangs of hunger. We deprive ourselves for them; and Oh!" said Sarah, "my father and I do all we can to spare we do not satisfy our appetites till we know that these dear ones to my father, I have put away my portion of bread; and, more have their meals assured for the next day. Sometimes, unknown than once, I have had reason to be pleased with this precaution.' Sarah in her own. "Good girl!" exclaimed the woman pressing the hand of here only to distress you. There Sarah is a shilling, go and buy some bread." But it shall not be said that I have come

was offered her, Maggy continued :
As the young girl hesitated to accept the picce of money which

will pay me altogether.'
Take it, take it! I give it you on account, and your father

shilling; but, as your heart has been touched by the sight of our
misery, for heaven's sake, do not compel us to leave your house to-
My good Mistress Maggy," said the young girl, "keep your
and these dear ones cannot do without shelter.'
morrow. We may do to-day without bread; but my poor father

work, and be able to pay me, if he will follow my advice," replied
You shall not leave here, and your father will get plenty of
explain it to you in a moment; but first of all, go quickly to the
Mistress Graham. "Just now an idea occurred to me, and I will
baker's; the little ones may awake, and should find their breakfast
ready."

out she ran, swift as an arrow.
This time the girl did not hesitate; she took the shilling, and

of Osby, gave free vent to her thoughts.
Maggy remained alone, and casting her eyes round the rooms

What misery! Good God! no furniture! no bed! not a this distress I came demanding money which in fact I do not want, spark of fire in the fireplace this cold weather! In the midst of thank God!

without feeling? You are considered niggardly. Will you be so
"Are you then, Maggy, a hard-hearted woman? a creature
indeed? No, no," she continued placing one hand on her heart,
and the other on her eyes; "the niggard has no heart, and I have
one; the niggard has no tears for the misery of others, and my
eyes are full of tears at this moment.
avaricious; but you are rather quick, hasty, passionate.
must mend yours lf, Maggy. Passion does not suit an old woman
No, Maggy! you are not
after all, though it may be difficult to change one's nature at the
age of sixty. Well, I will try; for, as our Rev. Jeremiah Bellington
You
says, it is never too late to enter upon the way of salvation."

all the pictures, sketches, and drawings, which masked the old
black wall of the painter's workshop.
Thus conversing with herself, the fishwoman was mustering
Maggy became fixed on one portrait.
Suddenly the eyes of

"What's this?" she cried. "Do I dream? This face, these features, this costume- Yes! it is quite my son John! What a strange coincidence. I must know what this means—— Ah! John, John, this is another of your tricks, Sir! I will question Sarah; I will know all about it.'

The young girl just then entered the room loaded with a loaf of six pounds weight; she put down the bread upon an old ricketty table, and stretching her hand to Maggy she said:

"Look here, my good Mistress Graham! this is all that remains of your shilling-threepence! but still," she added with an expression of cheerfulness, "here is a loaf of six pounds, which will do us much good.'

"You are joking, Sarah. How can you think of giving me back the change? Keep it, keep it, my child; you will soon have occasion to use it."

While this conversation was taking place the four children awoke, and on beholding the nice bread which promised them such a splendid breakfast, became talkative, and as merry as a nest of young birds. "My little ones!" said Sarah, no conversation before prayers; on your knees! quick!"

The four children knelt down and stammered a short prayer to the God of the poor and needy. After having implored the Almighty to bestow his benediction on their father, their eldest sister, and themselves, Sarah made them repeat the following words in addition to their daily prayer:

"We pray thee, Almighty God, to bless also the good Mistress Maggy Graham, who gives us bread in thy holy name!"

At this moment the old fishwoman, whose heart was overcharged with suppressed emotion, burst into a torrent of tears.

66

There, there," she said, passing a handkerchief over her eyes, "old Maggy is weeping like a child; pray, Sarah, do not pay any attention to my weakness, but dress your little angels.'

Whilst the young girl was occupied with a maternal solicitude in dressing her brothers and sisters, Mistress Graham, standing in the middle of the room and pointing to the portrait which had previously attracted her attention, made her remarks with a feigned simplicity. "Miss Sarah," she said, "you have there some nice portraits. By the whale of the prophet Jonas, I see one so life like (she indicated that of her son), that it seems about to speak. Your father should have been well paid for these portraits."

"Oh, pray do not speak of them, Mistress Graham! the three portraits you see there, were the cause of all our misery.'

Indeed! Really!" cried Mistress Graham, whose curiosity was excited to the highest degree; "will you tell me the history of them?" Willingly, and it will not be a long one. Shortly after the death of my mother, my father received a visit from three young men belonging to the University of Oxford. They came to London to have a few days' amusement, and requested my father to paint their portraits, which they intended to present to their respective parents. They were quite gentlemen."

66

And undoubtedly you know the names of these gentlemen ?" interrupted Maggy eagerly.

One of them called himself the Earl of Clarendon," said Sarah, "the other was Lord Norfolk, and as for the last, the handsomest of them all, he belonged to one of the richest families in the City of London, but he did not tell us his name; his two friends called him simply John."

66

"John! yes, it is my John!" muttered Maggy, taking a large pinch of snuff.

"What, do know him?" asked Sarah ingenuously.

you

Why, who does not know a John?" replied Maggy; "it is such a common name. I may know him or I may not. However, I think this young gentleman (and gentlemen they all are who come from the University of Oxford), has not displeased you.”

Sarah blushed as she replied:

"Indeed this Mr. John appeared so good, so obliging, and his countenance was so open, that he quickly won my confidence." "And your heart too, Miss Sarah ?"

The young girl cast down her eyes.

"Never mind, there is no harm in it, and you ought not to blush for a good sentiment, as you would for a fault; but go on, pray let me know the remaining part of the history of these pictures." To this request Sarah willingly acceded, and resumed in the following manner :

The three young gentlemen desired my father to finish their portraits as soon as possible. At this time my poor father was scarcely in a condition to undertake a work of such importance. My mother had only been dead a few weeks, and he was suffering in many ways; but the prospect of honourable gain, and his eager desire to better the condition of his family, stimulated his resolution. He set himself to work, toiled incessantly, and in less than two months the three portraits were ready. Almost delighted at having!

so well succeeded, he carried his pictures one morning to the splendid hotel where the three gentlemen had taken up their abode. What was his surprise and disappointment, when he was told by the master of the hotel that they had started the day before for Oxford, without leaving any orders for the reception or the payment of the pictures. My father was desperate, and cursed his blind confidence. "You will, perhaps, not lose anything,' said the master of the hotel. These gentlemen have made great expenses during their stay in London. They belong all to noble and opulent families, and sooner or later they will certainly reward your talents; have patienco and courage!' My father was only partially consoled by these words, and he returned as much discouraged and sorrowful as he had been full of hope and joy on starting. Besides, there were circumstances which made this disappointment doubly painful. The young men, who came every day to sit, urged my father to finish the portraits as quickly as possible, and he, in order to comply with their wishes, had refused to undertake the restoration of the frescoes, which ornamented the great hall of the Knights of the Gaiter. This last work would promptly have secured him both glory and benefit, but it was intrusted to another, and you see, Mistress Graham, I was right in telling you that these three portraits were the forerunners of our distress.

66

Oh, these thoughtless fellows!" exclaimed the fish woman; "but tell me, Miss Sarah, did not your father take any step in order to discover these gentlemen ?"

66

At first my father had a great mind to go to Oxford, but travelling is expensive, and we had scarcely a guinea to live on." "But you should have written," interrupted Maggy. "My father did so," replied Sarah.

"Ah, Mr. John has written to you!" said Mistress Graham. "If there is no objection, Miss Sarah, I should like to see the letter." Objection! On the contrary, I am very happy to prove to you that it is not our fault that the rent has not been paid. Look in that portfolio, Mistress Graham; there you will find Mr. John's letter. You will easily distinguish it by the Oxford post-mark."

The letter in question was soon found by Maggy. At the first glance she exclaimed, "Oh, yes! there is no doubt of it; this is the handwriting of my son. Oh, the hypocrite! he asked me for a hundred pounds to obtain the doctor's degree, and it appears that he has taken his degree at Covent-garden and Vauxhall."

'What are you saying, Mistress Graham ?" asked Sarah, who had just completed the toilette of the children.

Nothing, nothing, Miss Sarah; I was only thinking to myself that these Oxford scholars are little better than robbers. They know as well how to get possession of the money of their parents as they know how to get rid of it. Their conduct is an abomination."

While pronouncing this anethema upon the scholars of Oxford, Mistress Graham opened the letter of her son and read as follows: "My good and honourable Mr. Osby."

"Oh, the serpent!" remarked Maggy; "he does not mind using deceitful words in order to lull his victim."

She again began to read:

"MY GOOD AND HONOURABLE MR. OSBY,-I should be most happy to meet your legitimate demand, but it is not in my power at this moment. Unhappily, I and my friends find ourselves just now in very embarrassed circumstances.

of money. I tell you this, not to justify, or even lessen the wrong we "When we were in London, we very thoughtlessly expended large sums have done you, but only to deserve, by the avowment of our fault, your indulgence and patience. Be assured that you will not lose anything by waiting; my friends and I will not fail to repair, some day, the loss which

we have occasioned you.

"You are of course aware, that the Earl of Clarendon and Lord Norfolk are destined one day to become possessors of large fortunes I shall be rich myself. We all love the art and the artist, and we shall be proud to become your patrons. A little patience, and much courage, my good Mr. Osby, and your incontestable talent will, by our means, regain the lustre that an unparalleled fatality has robbed it of.

"Norfolk and Clarendon have just passed their examination, and will soon leave the University and return to their families. I am also about to return to London as soon as I have taken my degree; therefore, my dear Mr. Osby, you may feel quite sure that your affair will turn out well.

"I shall soon have the pleasure of seeing you again. Rival of Titian and Correggio, add to the inheritance of their genius, the strength of soul and firmness of the ancient philosophers I am, with respect and sympathy "Your devoted servant, "JOHN, Student of the University of Oxford."