The Sun.
London, England, 1847-09-17 00:00:00

LITERATURE.
THE GREATEST PLAGUE OF LIFE ; or the
Adventures of a Lady in Search of a Good Servant.
VI. Edited by the Brothers Mayhew.
This is the concluding number of this entertaining
/.°l'k, and it would be well that all those who have
been amused by the fun should attend to the moral of
the tale. It is to be found in the concluding address
cd. :Mr. Edward to his
As I was saying, then, Madam, we put ourselves to
rill kinds of' unnecessary expense to gain the good opinion
of mere acquaintances and comparative strangers, who
tu,o.n't care-a snap of the fingers for us; and in order to do
'1", and " make both ends meet," as we call it, we stint
9urselves, and those about us, of a thousand little
luxuries which would make home dear and happy,
Wholly regardless of either the feelings or the esteem of
tll°'-e who live under the same roof with ourselves, and
those affection can add so much to our comfort.'
" ` Oh, yes, certainly,' I added; I'm perfectly of
Your opinion,—let the servants do just as they please,—
411,1 11 deal of comfort at home we should have then.'
Your fault, and the fault of many other ladies I
;"uld eama, is, that you have your servants—like your
furniture--for sh —though—unlike your furniture-
3°u don't think you can spoil them, however much yon
use them. And then you wonder that they don't treat
Kith respect, but take every advantage they can of
zi tut; You carry out your contract to the mere dry letter
them, and yet are continually grumbling because
don't carry out theirs to the spirit with you. Only
4 Mistresses be kind—yet firm with their servants, end
the truth of them, to one another, and depend upon it,
the
laws of mere human nature are such, that servants—
nil few exceptions—will be willing, obedient, and
Nted to them.' "

eIInISTOPIIE.R TADPOLE. By Albert Smith.

Part XIII

In this number the author is evidently preparing
1,.0r his catastrophe, and " corning events" cast before
them strong shadows. Christopher sallies forth as
i4lae itinerant lecturer on the " sports and pastimes of
people of England,' having previously had
ia
;I•orious rehearsal of his lecture in Mr. Chirpey s
loft.l In the course of his journeyings he meets with
44r. Barnes, and a host of medical students, botanizing,
attended by their professor. Into the good graces of
this latter gentleman he manages to ingratiate him-
self, and procures from him a letter of introduction
to Our old friend, Dr. Aston. The Doctor is still
residing in the same village in Cheshire, and in the
lame "red-brick, scarlatina-looking house," and
surrounded by the same curiosities, including Mrs.
Grittles, the only alteration he has made in his
establishment being the starting an assistant hight,
kr• Mole, to take some of the heavy work off •
hands. A railway is in the course of construction in
„'„_e neighbourhood, and the Doctor is called in to
attend a "navvy," who has met Nlith a serious acei-
trit• That navvy is Rockey, who dies shortly after
joethari,iosetoes arrival, and concealed in whose neck-
ban found a small diamond buckle, which is
-eu, over to the Doctor for safe custody. The
f--mwlng extract will show the situation of the Arden
family and of their "Evil spirit" :
fart In one of the southern counties of England—some
.Y miles away from London—and situated upon a
;rteen headland, where the rich pastures of the valley of
bitriver make their first undulating break, before they
i;,:rge into the short verdure of the downs—whose sun,-
-43 may be seen and taken as laud-marks from the sea
--there is an old Elizabethan house.
aG" It is built of grey stone, from a quarry which has
been worked for many years, but which may be still
-,en •
In one of the shows upon the estate, if you have
:,-,,rae toe en the dense thicket of brambles,
o,l"ngs and fern that encompass it. It was once a
irt endid.mansion ; but at the period of our tale it was
tte eared for. The ivy that climbed along its many-
led front, had, in some places forced the discoloured
4ls from its frame, and twisted' round the mullions to
b(l* inside the rooms ; large trees had upheaved the
Weary of the terrace-wall in like manner, throwing it,
;): the force of their roots, in huge blocks upon the turf:
,4,11.. cl sturdy creepers, reddening in the autumn, had
'""anted to the very summits of the clustered chimneys
some few of which the smoke curled as of yore
Viand grown over their tops.
eat
There had once been herds of deer in the fine park
.itzlt surrounded the house ; but they had been sold, or
i
41 or had strayed away ; for the palings around
reete broken down, and their absence had been poorly
4,lll,edied, here and there by hurdles, and old gates in-
• "•wined with furze. And one or two stately chestnut
hr. marked the course of a noble avenue that had once
kt, up to the principal door of the house, the smooth
formes of the others still forming weather-beaten plat-
•en mogt the grass. There were large gardens too,
I,,ii.•sed will' high walls, but nothing was cared for
net,uia- They were perfect wildernesses ; and the walks
tm;il Choked up—below with grass and self sown vege-
h, es and above by the long sprangs of the vines and
or t of the standard fruit trees, which no hand trained
110;;1ramed into order. And the pleasaunce behind the
trees was equally uncared for. Suckers from the large
surrounding it, grew up all about the lawn ; and
pnnu°P and wilicconvolvulus, having once got an occu-
th:Y, overran the entire enclosure, and strangled all
~,;other flowers that tried to lift their heads above the
,us,
This old house was not less desolate within. Every-
iettng was falling to decay from want of care and occu-
shi„,e).• The wind roared and howled down the huge
tioo—rtleys, and wailed strangely through the ill fitting
1100*!, even when all was tranquil without. The rude
Itit,crilflg, patched and repaired with half-a-dczen different
100„3,4 wood, creaked and groaned beneath the lightest
er,,411; and old unexplained noises sounded from the
sli'd Wainscot constantly, There were, besides, closets
apseeupboards in every available corner, some of which
stted, from their obscurity, to be perfectly unlathom-
' Ar( v-; and others resounded hollowly, when knocked,
has i° that there were still recesses beyond them which
le ever been opened. There were long ghastly lofts,
kokindition, immediately under the patched and heavily
eial:tared imly lighted through the dull green-
Nt?,,44ernentsate either end ; and staircases in all di-
kor,,'ll3, Communicating with so many different damp
.fledia and leading to so many different mouldy passages
theata"ings, that but for the dread of meeting the real
Prank. he
sham apparition might have played whatever
thousl 'e Pleased, and got away as easily after them, as
1144,1.3" nn had possessed the power of pervading oak
04 as glibly as his spiritual prototypes.
teßar ne apartment only of this house was fitted up with
Nth
.(1 tO female occupation ; sad that was a parlour
baylevel Window, which commanded a fine sweep of
foli, Woodland, dotted with villages and clumps of
rose amidst which, here and there, a church spire
ton. ; and bounded by a chain of blue hills on the hori-
autu this room, one afternoon towards the close of
ladthere were two persons. One of them was a
about forty years of age in reality, although she
loc,the ed older, for her features were worn and lined, and
thoperal expression of her face indicated anxious
151%c,„grilt• She was sitting at a table, on which was
(If ce, box ; and from this had been taken the quantity
)vitti-64' Papers by which it was surrounded. At the
middle was seated her companion—a man under the
Which a stature who had a small table before him on
sot" "fas some wine, and on a chair at his side were
44 filberts
(which he was cracking with . his mouth).;
Some more papers. The lady was the widow of Sir
Q.„3l'llek Arden, and her present associate was Mr.

1743,,
~,,rry FAIR. By W. M. Thackeray. No. IX.
sett "al this part we have a graphic description of the
in
to g forth of the various regiments from Brussels
thr Naterloo, and of the thoughts and feelings of
(Ise who were left behind. Rebecca, of course, was
ealtU a.t,' ing the amount of ready cash of which she
1/401ild become possessed should Rawdon fall, and the
Irlilltnees there were of improving her position by a
(,_() re eligible match should such an event take place.
tong others the figure ofJos Sedley presented
itself to her imagination, and she called at Amelia's
lodgings to revive the acquaintance, and at the same
time to secure a seat in his barouche, in the event cf
1111,,e approach of the French rendering flight necessary.
n hire- there of course she could not do less than go
Ittlel comfort Amelia.
Rebecca's appearance struck Amelia with terror,
ana Made her shrink back. It recalled her to the world
iq In the overpower-
the, L remembrance of yesterday.
rememoran
ietee'll'a about to-morrow shehadfr husband wasorgottetiß
Rebecca,_
and sad weaY---everything except.i that he
la ttrejt in danger. Until this dauntless worldling came
forbor bin
the spell, and lifted the latch, we too have
that 41 eater into that sad ch,am,hheitr.hnlnlroswnfloanpgceheand.
less rer girl been on her knees.
speech-
The and bitter prestrationv‘ishsetnprakssaedofthfiegri€ll
end
t'Ar.ar chroniclers who write brilliantlese.
These are too,
Meet, trier
scarcely tell us of these.
don't hear widows
cries ellttrts of the pageant; and
iehilai." mothers' sobs in the m3i'doslit of tlAiendsh3o,eutt%ss.hanend
tiiion in the great chorus of victory.. _
"toke t'ule, that such have not cried
tohunt4rhnaerarnti
the t 1.1. humble Protestants, unheard in
„ rin.traph!
11:Pii'l'fter the first movement of terror in Amelia's mind
en Rebecca's green eves lighted upon her, andt_e
Isitering in her fresh silks and brilliant ornaments, the
rcioi•
,„ t's'en up with extended arms to embrace e
464' anger succeeded, and from being deadly pale
llec°. her face flushed up red, and she returned
1441174'a look after a moment with a steadiness which
,f-"&ed mid somewhat abashed her rival.
said, ""arest Amelia, you are very unwell,' the visitor
la oPtitting forth her hand to take Amelia's. What
"A I could rest until I knew how y
since her life
1*4.-' "ad that gentle soul refused to believe or to an-sSe t
d"eY demonstration of good-will or affection.
rew back her hand and trembled all over. But
Why
ore 04 here, Rebeeeic' she said, still looking at her
~iaitow her large eyes. These glances troubled
c,
)411,, the Must have seen him give me the letter at the
4s,tl4ltbecca thought. Don't be agitated, dear
ische said, looking down. I came but to see if
" You were well.'
say
are, vire You well?' said Amelia. I dare youif here do.
don't love your husband. You would not be
IttlYth• 3°ll dut id. Tell me, Rebecca, did I ever do you
b kindness?'
a
°Wu , Amelia, no' the other said, still hanging
head. ,
ttiend auert 3'nu were quite poor, who was it that bea-
-411 ie Le' Y°11? Was noi a -sister.to_you? You saw
the"l3Pier days before he married me. I was all in
did
f im4; h in) ;or would he have given up his fortune,
"id Ll' as he nobly did to make me happy? Why
"4:1120 be tvreeu my love and mo? Who sent yott