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    THE RECORD OF A VANISHED LIFE. 118

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    It Is The Afternoon Of A Hotfull Summer ...

    much I had resemb one led brother , t about her in a charac year ter younger in st than th myself of nerve . and He reng

    of hardnes temperament s of will — . of I an had anxious inherited , _nervous from , , my appreh poor ensive mother temper much - ent—if not of characterand brother and myself differed

    am so widely that , as soon as , early childhood—that time in which tended companion differen ship t is una . voidable It has — been was past well , said we grew that apar " famil t and y

    likeness has often ways a deep sadness in it . Nature , , that great tragic dramatist , knits us web toge of ther by brains bone and blends muscle , and

    and divides reulsion us by the and ties subtler xis by our heart our strings ; to beings yearning that jar us at p movement , . " This was quite true of George and

    myself affection every : for our him natures —I doub were t whether antipathetic he could . I li had ave a much strong for me tent — naturall

    and yet found intimacy and sympathy impossible . He y side admired in all power the wretched and sided dissensions with success between . He espoused our parents our father and my ' s

    father soon adopted George as his favourite son . I naturall , y leaned Itherefore to the thoug losing h as side ; pi tt tied er o weakness f feeling and rather shared than suffering of judg- .

    men feeling , t— — my took , my ther mother ' s _partisanshi ' s part p was all jud quarr gmen els ; t and rather espoused t t

    e vi er nced cause with earl y ll liking a child ' s w and arm y fa , all blind ther its ' s en p details ursui thusiasm ts , and . M soon y bro took her ish

    holidays a strong , he interest liked in not trade hing better than visiting . In the our counting boy - houseand he had a surprising talent for arithmetic . In me

    and awok liking e , the t were endencies for art . f my I longed mother secretl ' s artist y to father become . All a my painter love .

    fl a I lw was leaves ays alwa ha of p y s al wh l p loyed sc al h oo in l all boo ith my k s spare p were encil covered time and in bit with drawing of paper ske . tches . I The was of

    horses y of knights my and robbers . Everything that struck strongly with upon the my , hand imagination I think in so books strong of a story love , I must sought have to reproduce indicated

    some power . f . I know I should have been an intensely happy man as an artist ; I think I might have been a successful loved one .

    it well Even was would if not I to had have be remained : been the an fates unceasing poor wer , the e too exercise and strong unfading , of the d I del art w i g I ht doomed . But so loved and

    to wander far from the serene high regions of my happy Even art , now . , as an old man , removed by so many long of , long the

    years alone absorbed fro in m the happ my window iness boyhood , of -sill — the even throug abs now tracted h , long I can deli sunny g feel ht , something with afternoons which , I and sat

    The Record Of A Vanished Life. 118

    THE RECORD OF A VANISHED LIFE . 118

• Citation
  • English Woman’s Journal (1858-1864), April 1, 1864, page 113, in the Nineteenth-Century Serials Edition (2008; 2018) ncse-os.kdl.kcl.ac.uk/periodicals/ewj/issues/ewj_01041864/page/41/