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are poor; and it is their misfortune, not their Beatrice left the room, passed out of the hou se fault, that they need help.”
through the wild tangled wilderness of the " It is all the same. The poor are a thank garden, and reached the road. At the opposite less, ungrateful, undeserving set, and I will have gate stood Constance, evidently watching for nothing to do with them. I have told you so her; and she came out to meet her with a merry already, dozens of times, Beatrice."
smile. "I hoped you might change your mind,” said “I was sure I had seen you go in, Beatrice, Beatrice, rather sorrowfully. “I wish you could and I have been waiting for you to reappear. see something of them, Miss Vivian, or that I How is Queen Elizabeth P” could convince you of your mistake. For indeed Beatrice shook her head slightly, with halfyou are mistaken in thinking that all the poor grave reproof. are like that. Some of them of course are * No other name suits ber so well,” persisted thankless and undeserving, just as some among Constance. Except indeed that'good Queen the rich are the same, but many of them are Bess' was as lavish upon her own personal really deserving of help. And even when they comforts and adornments, as she was stingy are not, it seems to me only a stronger reason about every one else, while Miss Vivian is quite for not leaving them to themselves. The only as much of a miser with regard to herself as to hope for them, then, is to lead them to better others." things."
“Poor Miss Vivian!” was all Beatrice said. "If they are so foolish as to like to make “But, Beatrice, what is the reason? She is away with their money in drink, let them,” said rich enough to afford anything she liked. Why Miss Vivian, shortly. “They harm no one but does she live in that close miserly fashion, not themselves.,'
even mending her broken windows, or having “No one ? O Miss Vivian, the poor wives those formidable stinging-nettles cleared away and children!”
from her garden? What is she hoarding up " The wives and children are as bad as the the money for $" men."
"I don't know. I do not suppose she has Beatrice shook her head.
any real reason. The love of saving amounts “Oh, no! but even if they are, then there is almost to a monomania in some people. Poor only the more reason for their being sought old lady! hers has been a sad and dreary life, out and helped, Miss Vivian. And if nothing I should think.” is done with the children, what can we expect “But she might find plenty of interests, and but that they will grow up just like their friends too, if she chose, Beatrice. It is partly parents."
her own choice. How did she take the news “Of course they will,” said Miss Vivian. of Leonard's coming home ?” “And if you spend a hundred pounds on each Beatrice hesitated an instant. of them, it will make no difference. My money "I do not think she intends to see any more is not going to be spent in such useless work. of him than formerly. Indeed, she said deBesides, I cannot afford it. You had better cidedly that she should not.” apply to your dear Mr. Mansfield.”
“But, Beatrice, don't you think it is a " I intend doing so, but one person cannot shame?” cried Constance, indignantly. “She give enough for a case like this, Miss Vivian.” ought to know him-she ought to leave her * You need not come to me then, Beatrice.
money to him." My mind was made up long ago, and I am too
“Mr. Mansfield always says we have nothing old to change it."
to do with that,” said Beatrice, quietly. Beatrice rose from the ottoman.
“No-only it is a family estate, although "I will not press you any more then, Miss it did not come to Miss Vivian from her father, Vivian, though I am sorry you will not help and is not entailed, but it ought to descend me. But it is not my place to dictate to you next to Leonard. Indeed, I believe it was the what to do with your money,” she added, with particular wish of Miss Vivian's old uncle, a smile. “You must forgive me for being who left it to her, that it should descend in rather warm on the subject. I must go now, the direct line of succession, though he took or I shall hardly be back in time for dinner, no means to secure it, and left Miss Vivian but I will come again if I can to-morrow, and at perfect liberty to do what she liked with stay rather longer.
it.” Miss Vivian's good-bye was cooler than usual. Captain Vivian is her cousin, is he rot?”
asked Beatrice. “I never quite understand the living. She threatens, I believe, to leave all exact relationship.”
to him, and nothing to Leonard. The only “I'll explain it to you. There were three thing is that she has such an Elizabethan brothers, you know; and Miss Vivian is the horror of making her will, that she may put daughter of the eldest. The property did not off doing so for years. To be sure, it was said come to her from him, but, as I said just now, that at the time Leonard's mother married from some old uncle-ancient he must have papa, she was so angry with her for doing so been, it was so long ago. Then the second though no one could imagine why—that she brother had one son, John Vivian, who married made a will there and then, leaving everything a Miss Leonora Johnson. Leonard was their to Captain Gifford, who was a little boy at the child, named as nearly as possible after her. time. But that is so very long ago, that it is His father died almost immediately after his not likely to be still in existence. Having birth; and about two years later, as you know, such a hatred of wills, she most likely threw his mother was married to papa. You have it into the fire the first time she happened to heard all that, and how she only lived a few come across it." months after her second marriage, and then "Is Captain Gifford older than Captain died, leaving Leonard under papa's care. Papa Vivian p” has always felt for him like a father. Leonard “Three or four years. I have never seen was six or seven years old before papa married him, you know, since he was quite a boy-and again. Mamma was very fond of him too, I a very disagreeable one too, so far as I can think, though he certainly was rather a trouble remember ; but I am in no hurry for another to her at times.”
meeting. The longer his regiment stays abroad, “There is another cousin, is there not ?" the better. I musn't go farther than this asked Beatrice. “Captain —what is his name?” corner with you, Beatrice, as I promised
* Captain Gifford. Yes. He is the grandson mamma to be back directly. Good-bye!” and of the third brother, and next in succession to Constance sped lightly back through the dusty Leonard. Miss Vivian has no other relations lane into the Rookery garden.
IR EDWIN LANDSEER is unques. | ing, and his taste was sedulously cultivated by
tionably the greatest modern painter his father, who himself instructed him, and as of animals. In many respects he is soon as he had acquired a little certainty of
unsurpassed, if equalled, by the eye and hand, took him into the fields and painters of any time. Sentiment and pathos, commons to sketch the living animals (for quiet humour and sharp satire, were never which his inclination was, from the first, very before so evoked by representations of animal decided) in their natural state, instead of nature; and the accompaniments in his paint copying prints or drawings. Of his precocity, ings are almost as invariably delineated as proofs may be seen at the South Kensington admirably as are the animals themselves. Museum, where, in the collection of drawings,
Our readers will be interested in a brief are exhibited copies made by him in pencil at sketch of the career of this illustrious member the age of five, and sketches from life of the of the English school of artists; and we are heads of horses, dogs, &c., made when from glad to be able to accompany our sketch with seven to ten years old. engravings from two of his most telling At the age of fourteen he began to contri. paintings—specimens of his marvellous genius bute to the annual exhibitions. At sixteen, an and executive skill.
oil painting by him of "Dogs Fighting" was a Sir Edwin Landseer was born in London in leading attraction at the Spring Gardens April, 1802. He is the son of John Landseer, Exhibition; it was purchased by Sir George a celebrated line-engraver. Whilst a child, he Beaumont, the well-known amateur, and was displayed an extraordinary aptitude for draw. engraved by Mr. Landseer, sen.
followed by a portrait of a “Newfoundland
“ Newfoundland | ing.” In others of this class, there is a touch Dog with a Rabbit in his mouth," the size of of human interest, as in the “Drover's Deparlife.
ture;” “Flood in the Highlands;" and the When he was eighteen, he painted his cele- "Shepherd's Chief Mourner," one of the brated picture of the “Dogs of St. Gothard most pathetic pictures of this character ever discovering a Traveller in the Snow." This painted. was engraved by his father, who thus ex. It is needless to say, Landseer has painted pressed his opinion of its merits in an early dogs of all kinds as dogs were never painted announcement: “Edwin Landseer has an ex- before, from the noble bloodlfound and Newquisite picture on hand, the best he has foundland dog, down to the scrubbiest little painted, and by far the most interesting: It is terrier, of the sleekest of King Charles? two Mount St. Gothard mastiffs discovering a spaniels, with the exactest appreciation of poor traveller half buried in the snow. The every shade of inward character and outward subject is very touching, and we have not the covering. Each dog has its own expression : slightest doubt of its making a great impres- sadness, misery, satisfaction, and drollery, the sion." The anticipation was fully realized. passions and the feelings, the hopes and the The painting eclipsed in popularity all his fears, are shown to belong as much almost to previous efforts, and when engraved became the countenance of a dog as of a man. Our one of the most popular prints of the day. Frontispiece, "Dignity and Impudence," which
But neither the popularity nor the precocity we have ventured to regard as equally signifiof the already illustrious painter led him to cant of “Home Defence, but not Defiance," and neglect the labour which could alone ensure the accompanying engraving of “ The Guard,” permanent success. He had been a student in will serve to exemplify this. In the latter, the the Royal Academy, and he now sought surrounding circumstances are all significant. assistance in his studies from Haydon, one of The large yard-dog acts as double guard, the best teachers though least successful watching the cloak, hat, and walking-stick of artists of the day. Under his guidance, Land- the master, and, at the same time, protecting seer made many dissections of animals, in- the little lapdog from the threatened attack cluding a lion, which died rather opportunely of the lively King Charles. One seems almost for the young painter's purpose, and of which to surmise from the picture the babits, the he made a large number of careful drawings. age, and the character of the master. The
In 1826, as soon as he was of the prescribed position of each dog—the listening ear, the side age (twenty-four), Landseer was elected Asso- glances of the eye, we were about to say the ciate of the Royal Academy; and in 1830, wakeful hair and paws of the recumbent Academician. He had by this time cast off watcher, are inimitable, because perfectly the dryness of manner and minuteness of įmi. natural. Looking at these dogs, we really lose tation which marked his early efforts, and all recollection of pen or pencil. adopted the large and masculine style of treat- Landseer has been equally happy with ment which stamp so characteristic an expres- almost every other domestic animal; and he sion on all but the earliest of his works. has certainly gone far beyond any predecessor
For the period of upwards of forty years, in the power he possesses of linking the expres. during which he has occupied so prominent a sion of animal character with some human place in the public eye, Landseer's popularity sentiment, as in the Death of the Roe;" the has never waned. From th: very extent of his "Old Shepherd's Chief Mourner;" "Laying popularity, however, one serious evil has sen, down the Law;" “ Alexander and Diogenes;' the occupation of a large proportion of his “ High and Low Life.” In these and other time in the production of pictures that might instances he has shown how animal character have been as well supplied by a feebler hand, and the incidents of animal life may be ren. the mere portraits of favourite horses, dogs, dered capable of dramatic treatment in a
picture, and become susceptible of the keenest His more important works embrace a large expression of pathos or of humour. number of Highland subjects-scenes in which As a master of the technicalities and the deer are the principal actors—as in his won. mechanism of painting, Landseer also excels. derful “Children of the Mist;” “Coming His facility and dexterity of hand are almost Events ;” “Night,” and “Morning;” “ Deer marvellous. He has been known to paint com. Stalking," or " The Return from Deer Stalk. plete, from first outlining to the last touch of
the brush, and of the size of life, a dog and Shepherd's Chief Mourner,” and “The Drover's birds, the head and body of a fallow deer, and Departure"-one of his most elaborate and a fox examining a trap, in a couple of hours, carefully finished works. and yet in neither instance having any appear. Sir Edwin was knighted by the Queen in ance of incompleteness. But this rapidity of 1850, and received at the French Exhibition of execution is not discoverable in his greater 1855 the only large gold medal awarded to an works. It is noticeable, however, that he has English painter. seldom, if ever, painted an animal in decided Whilst fully recognizing the peculiar gift of
movement; it is always in repose, or at the extraordinary genius which has so distinguished moment of arrested action.
the subject of this sketch, it is especially note. Our National Collections are rich in Land- worthy that his fame has not been achieved seer's works. Fourteen of them will be found without the exercise of persevering diligence, in the National Gallery (including “A Dialogue and an entire devotedness to his professional at Waterloo,” “ Comus,” “High and Low Life," labours. As Sir Joshua Reynolds taught, “War and Peace," and " Alexander and Dio. “He who is resolved to excel must go to his genes"), and sixteen are in the Sheepshanks work, willing or unwilling, morning, noon, and Collection, among which are the exquisite "Old night; he will find it no play, but very hard
labour." He who would be an artist must let the morning sun light up his canvas, and the erening lamp shine on his model of clay. Michael Angelo never ceased to work-not even when all Europe rang with the fame of the sculptor of the sublime “Moses.” His favourite device, an old man in a go-cart, with an hour-glass upon it, inscribed Ancora imparo, “I am still learning," illustrates the noble idea he had conceived of the needfulness of constant labour. So with the great Titian; he was emphatically a worker, and is said to have been occupied seven years upon his picture of the “ Last Supper."
Genius alone will not achieve success. The artistic power which enabled Landseer to complete some of his pictures so rapidly, indicated
much previous labour spent in its acquisition. • Why do you charge me fifty crowns," said a Venetian signor to a sculptor, "for a bust that only cost you ten days' labour P” “Becauser replied the artist, “I was ten years learning to do
my work in ten days.” The lesson, tersely given, may serve to guard us against forming an erroneous estimate of the elements of character which are, humanly speaking, essential in order to success. Neither talent nor genius, neither brilliancy of imagination nor accuracy of judgment, can supply the place of resolute perseverance and constant labour.
“ Never yet was good accomplished
C. A. H. B.
EFORE I commence my story for The
poor mother explained to the child that little ears, I cannot avoid saying a she had been wrong and naughty, and all that, word or two to those whose duty it is and said much to do away the impression her
to take care that little ears grow words had evidently made: a great deal she without being contaminated. If the eye of a said which her little girl could not understand mother rests upon this page, I would simply —though she smiled at the idea of “mamma’s" beg her to recall the days of her own child having been naughty "like little Sarah," and hood: let her think how many things she with that smile “mamma” lost a portion of heard which she ought not to have heard; and her influence; her child seemed to think it a call to mind how much happier she would have sort of excuse for her own misdemeanour. Her been, and how many prejudices she would have mother sincerely regretted her want of caution, avoided, if her parents, friends, or attendants but said, what I hope you will not say, “It is had been more cautious of their conversation very true, Mrs. Hall, but it is so hard to be always in her presence. Memory is of earlier and on one's guard.” Granted, lady, it is hard to be more rapid growth than reason: children will always on your guard; but it is, nevertheless, remember when they cannot argue; but then, your duty to be so-one of the many imporas their reason develops, they will recall what tant duties that devolved upon you when you they have heard, and argue upon it after their became a mother-perhaps the most important, own fashion.
for on early, I had almost written on infantine, "You punish me, mamma, for eating apples, impressions depends the conduct, the character, when you say no,” said a child of five years the happiness, temporal and eternal, of your old to her mother, a few weeks past, before
child. The poor mother who pays twopence a me; “you forget how you eat apples your own day to have her child taken care of while she sef, when you were ittle girl.”
labours to earn its daily bread, performs her “I eat apples when I was a little girl!” ex- duty to the extent of her knowledge, not to claimed the mother, “How do you know the extent of her feelings; for, amid all her whether I did or not?”
toils, her heart yearns towards her offspring, “You tell papa, many days ago, how you and now, since the establishment of infant stole them, tiptoe, out of your Gan-mamma's schools, she can leave it in comparative safety. closet window, and she never found you out; But I address you, well-bo accomplished, if why you beat ittle Sarah for what you do your not well-educated, women ; rich in the good own sef ?"
things of this world; rich in the gifts that