Delaware inquirer. (Wilmington, Del.) 1859-18??, 1860-02-25

| long, had lain there without one single iriehui
| in the wide bounds Of London, to sit beside me
for even single hour, and say kind word of
hope and sympathy. My relations were all in
another country they did not even know of
my illness they were thinking, probably, at
that very moment, that was becoming famous
and rich, for had left them with high expect
ations of the glory and money should win in
the literary land of London. Glory and money
won by poor unfriended writer, who, overra-
ting his genius, plunged, without other means
of support than his pen, into the glutted wri-
ting market of London. I had only severely
injured my constitution, and had passed two
years in perpetual dread of starvation.
we'll remember how, on the evening in
question, raised myself for moment in my
sick bed, of which had grown solely weary,
and put aside the curtain which, held up by
worn, ill-contrived loop was always falling
down, and closing out the small quantity of air
which, from the thousand chimney tops of one
of the most densely inhabited quarters of Lon
don, entered my attic room. think at this mo-
ment can see the emaciated arm ! stretched
forth, as thurst back the old curtain, which
fell falling to pieces even with the touch Of my
nerveless fingers. looked out on the little
aged, mean table, on which my medicines were
placed and candlestick, containing one of
the smallest ranks of candles and the walls,
whitewashed at some remote period, but stained,
crumbling, and cobwebbed in every corner; and
the floor broken, carpetless, and soiled; and
the little, old, rusty CRATE, and two ill-kept
cane chairs, and myo writing desk filled with
manuscripts of plays of .all descriptions, from
extreme tragedy to more extreme comedy, for
writing for the stage had been my aim and my
failure. looked on everything appertaning
| to that miserable room and then looked up to
heaven, and prayed for health, that might
make new and wiser exertions to place myself
in better fate, for my mind had been busy
acquiring wisdom during the long prostration
of sickness.
Then listened to the loud street noises, for
London was in an even more than usually stir
ring mood, some public event being celebrated
some thousands of active men slaughtered
by our army in glorious war; if remember
rightly shouts and laughter, and, at intervals,
the noise of artillery with the ringing of bells,
and all the countless sounds which contribute
towards making the great uproar of vast re-
joicing city, assembled up to me in my lonely,
quiet room. AT first l listened with feeling
of gladness at all the excitement, while every
thing around me was so monotonously dull,
and, for one moment, the languid blood rushed
with more of life through my veins afterwards
became sick at heart, when ] thought of how
the world always went on bustling and mirth-
full, no matter how many poor solitary indi-
viduals lay in helpless, miserable sickness, even
in the very streets and public places through
which gay professions were passing in uttei
forgetfulness, apparently, of suffering and
death. My yown extreme insgniicance was i'm
pressed on me then in an overwhelming de.
gree, that in periods of health no neglect from
the world could ever make me feel but my lonl
illness had made me weak and childlike. Th'
extreme depression of spirits under which Ia
bored brought on kind of half slumber, il
which dreamed that was in the last agonie
OF starvation.
II was wonderfully vivid dream; wen
distinctly through all the stages OF dying from
hunger-I felt the first sharp gnawings-th
, uncomfortable longings for all the kinds of foo'
; particularly relished, every one of whicl
fancy seemed to place before me so palpabl.
that stretched forth my hands, always en-
: deavoring to grasp them-T felt the fever, til
f burning thirst, the utter prostration at last
I with an intensity that actual experience coul
0 hardly do much more than parallel, and all tn
' time was alone, without one to watch or ten
). me-without one who might chance to be pass
G ing by to pause and pity me.
Q "A letter for you, say--do you hear me
S The sharp voice of Mrs. sayall, my landlad,
y recalled me from my dream. looked up, an
saw her standing over me with letter, whic
n | reached for eagerly, as the few letters re
v ceiyed from home were the only consolation
n had in my solitude Mrs. Savall did not tax
n her departure Immediately, as usual, when 81
o had given me the letter; she stood and gaze
: on me in manner thought annoying. HI
Is face was naturally pretty and SOFT thought
ID indicative of goodness and kindness in hiG
T. degree when saw it first So it was, indee
ID all smiles and sweetness as long as regular
re paid my lodging account; but now was tv
st whole months in arrears and had learnedth
IL Mrs Savall had one face for those WHO III
of money, and another.fo for the unfortunates VIII
he like myself, had none.
es al want to know" she said, tartly decided
e, "when you are going to pay your arrears!--
es is two good months due now"
nd looked up, and wondered how could ey
IL have thought that face gentle and handsom
ke it scowled on me like the impersonation of h
IN; tired and malice. l knew not what to say
IS her. 1t was no use telling that had not
nd farthing in the world seeing that, to jud
he from her looks, she was well aware of it
th ready
fe, "You must be paid,' l said mechanical
I'd, opening the letter and shifting my positi
we nearer the light
om nMust be paid, indeed, Immediately, 81
Ike We've hard times of it now, and can't want
nd lawful money any longer Savalls business
icy gone next to nothing so you'll please MAXI
ace convenient to let us have the money in three
yer four days at the furthest."
at 81 shall do what can" answered, look
is at the letter, and perceiving that the handv
the ting was new to me. Where could it co
ost fromY The very first line engrossed me so
ous tirely that to Mrs. Savall's eloquence there
, IN | 80 Isntanaru