The Cecil Whig., 1872-01-06
THREE ROMANCES OF REAL LIFE.

Years ago, when l was quite lad,
chanced to be weather-bound in the COM
pany of some persons eminent in literature
at certain inn in the Lake Country; and,
in order to pass the time, it was proposed
that each should write down the incident
in fiction which had pleased or interested
him the most 1t so happened that 1, for
my part, setdown scene in Iuan6oe, which
was also selected by one Of my companions
veteran novelist, and very great satisfac-
tion it afforded me to find my fancy in the
same groove with so great man. But
now I know that there was nothing sur
prising in the coincidence. What seizes
our imagination in youth, retains its hold
as long as there is aught to hold by: when
the books of the Sibyl became fewer, they
were sold at the same price; but as our
recollections of tho past fades and fades,
what we do remember grows dearer and
dearer to us-just as when death, through
age, makes havoc among our friends, we
cling more closely to the survivors.
Unless in the very exceptional case of
mans being suddenly struck with the truth
Of some new religion, there are for the ma
ture mind no surprises. The sublimest
Cliquot can never touch our educated pal
ate with such rapture as was afforded to it
in boyhood by the first draught of ordinary
champagne; and if, as in the case Of fiction,
it aoas Cliquot with which we were favored
at that early period, how is it possible that
any after-draught can compare with it
The capacity of the palate for pleasure,
however, is said to be+lasting; how much
more, therefore, in the case of the plea
sures of the imagination, which are so
feeting, is that first taste the most deli
cious, and likely to endure in the memory.
The first draught of iced champagne, the
first kiss of Love, the first appearance in
print-what after-pleasures of tho same
sort can vie with these? The first cigar,
indeed, is generally not so agreeable as
some later ones, but this is the exception
which proves the rule.) Who can ever for
get his first perusal of Robinson Crusoss
especially if he got punished for it, as did
for enjoying that admirable narrative dur
ing school-time, in the hour set apart for
the study of Caesar. l had no particular
objection to Cesar; on the contrary, rath-
or liked him, as classic, because he was
comparatively easy. But boy who can
give up Robinson Crusoc to read about the
Gallo War, without moral struggle, is
not boy-he is the head of college in
embryo. That lonely island, that charm
ingly snug cavern, that summer residence
Ito which I thought him so imprudent to
venture) how they still live in our men,
DRY, though we may have since seen half
the Kingdoms of the worlds, and the glory
of them How infinitely greater is the
magic of genius than the dull force of
facts
And yet facts, Or what one takes for
facts, have themselves considerable power
over the imagination. Baron Trenck "a
near relation of Baron Munchhausen, I'm
afraid, by the bye is always a hero with
boys; so are Edward the Black Prince and
Richard the Lion-hearted; so are Dick
Turpin and Jack Sheppard. They have
begun to find out" Charles l., but he
has still his devotees, and has not lost a
female admirer yet; the young Pretender
thanks to fiction, however, rather than
factl is also great favorite. Queen Bess
has lost ground in the affections of youth,
which is the case, too, with her rival,
Queen Mary. These great people had all
more or less of interest for me; but it was
in the by-ways of history and biography
that found my favorites. The violet of
ones own finding is said to be sweeter than
whole bunch of the same flowers which
is held up by another for our qualification,
with " Do smell them; are they not
sweet ?' And so it is with all others plea
sures that we discover for ourselves.
Three Romanccs of Real Life, in partic-
ular, culled from its by-ways, have always
taken firmer hold upon my imagination
than vpunb p,oro fovon,,r i'm 70 N the