The Story Teller.

Bruce Herald, Volume X, Issue 955, 6 November 1877, Page 3

The Story Teller.

CHAELOTTE BEONTE. . " I thought her the smallest creature I had ever seen (except at a. fair), and her eyes blazed, as it seemed to me. She glanced quickjy -around,-, and pointing me oiifc, she' held out her/hand Iraukly and pleasantly. I introduced her, of course, to the family, and then came amoment whiph I had- npt anticipated. V^ben she was seated by me on the sofa Bhe cast vp '--at nje such a look, so loving, so appealing, and that in connec--tion with her deep mourning dress and ; the knowledge that, she was the sole survivor of her family, I could jfitk vh©

utmost difficulty return her smile or keep my composure. I should have been heartily glad to cry. We soon got ou very well, she appeared more at her ease that evening than I ever saw her afterwards, except when we were alone She was glad of the opportunity to consult me about certain strictures of the re viewers, which she did nob understand, and had every desire to profit by.. Between the appearance of ' Shirley' and that of ' Villette,' she came to me in December 1850. Our intercourse then confirmed my deep impression of her integrity, her noble, conscientiousness about her vocation, and her consequent self-reliaDce in the moral conduct of her life- '1 know,' she wrote (January 21, 1853), 'that you will give me your thoughts upon my book as frankly as if you spoke to some near relative whose good you preferred to her gratification. I. wince under the pain of condemnation like any other weak structure of flesh -arid blood ; but 1 love honour, I kneel to truth. Let her smite me on the cheek. Good! The tears may* spring to the eyes; but, courage! there, is the other side ; hit again right sharply !'' This was the genuine spirit of the womaii. She might be weak for once, but her permanent temper was one of humility, candour, integrity, and conscientiousness. She was not only unspoiled by her sudden and prodigious '"fame, but obviously unspoilable. She was somewhat amused by her fame, but offcerier annoyed i — at least when obliged to come out into the world to meet it, instead of its reaching her secluded home in the wilds of Yorkshire." There was little hope tbat she the frail survivor of a whole family cut of in childhood or youth, could live to old age; but now that she is gone, under the age of forty, the feeling is that society has sustained an unexpected as well as irreparable loss.— Harriet Martineau. WOEDSWOBTH. | 'It was one of the pleasures of my; walks, for the first few years of my resi- j denee here, to meet with Wordsworth, when he happened to be walking, and taking his time on the road. In winter he was to be seen iv his cloak, his Scotch bonnet, and green goggles, attended perhaps by half-a-score of cottagers' child-, reri— the youngest pulling at his cloak, or holding by bis trousers, .while he cut ash switches out of the hedge for them.— Harriet Martineau. THE NORTH POLE AND THE EQTJATOE. The story of Jeffrey and the North Pole, as told by Sydney Smith, appears to me strangely spoiled in tbe Life. The incident happened while the Jeffreys were my near neighbours in London; and3irs Smith related the incident to me at the time. Captain (afterwards Sir John) Ross had just returned from an. unsuccessful Polar Expedition, and was bent upon going again. He used all his interest to get the Government stirred up to fit; out another expedition ; and among others the Lord-Advocate Was to be applied to, to bespeak his good offices. The mutual friend who undertook to do Captain Ross' errand to Jefl'ioy arrived at an unfortunate moment. Jeffrey was in delicate health at the time, and made a great point of his daily ride ; and when the applicant reached his door, he was putting, his foot in the stirrup, and. did not want to. be detained. So he pished and pshawed, and cared nothing for the North Pole, and at length "damned" it. The applicant spoke angrily about it to Sydney Smith, wishing that Jeffrey \iould take care what he was about, and use more civil language. " What do you think he, said, to me?" cried the coriiplairiant. "Why, he damned, the North J Pole ! " " Well, never mind \ never mind ! " said Sydney Smith, soothingly. |" Never npud. his damning the North Pole. 2; have heard him speak disrespectfully of the equator." - - Harriet Martineau. '.'"'.■ GE.OEGE IX, AT THE THEATEE. George-the Second-r-who was.no friepd of the arts — was induced to witness tbe .performance of Richard 111., in which .Garrick played the hero. The Kirig^ who [watched the play with great attention, i-betrayed no emotion whatever at its various incidents ; but when the young prince was told that ""the Mayor of London came' to greet him," the King roused himself, and exhibited some excitement, Tbe part of the Lord Mavpr.^ntil of very late years, was always assigned to the low coxnedian of the theatre, and his, appearance wns invariably the signal for a roar of laughter. In the tjvfio of Garrick all things pertainiog to "the city" came in for a share of ridicule, and -Caswell, the Lord Mayor of tbe night, buffooned it to the top -of his bent. His Majesty was delighted. "Duke of Grafton," he*said "to the nobleman at his side, "I like datj Lord Mayor !" And when the. goone was over he again eselaimed '•* Duke of Grafton, dat Ts a good Lord Mayor!" And when Garrick cried, "Ahorse ahorse! my kingdom -for a Horse]" his Majesty a?l,:ed,' <r ]puke of Grafton, will not dat Lord Mayor come again ?" . A beace oy "odd fellows *' The Rev. Mr Alcock, of Burnsal, near Skipton, Yorkshire, who died about the year 1770, was a learned and witty divine^ so much addicted to waggery that be sometimes forgot his office, and indulged in sallies rather unbecoming a minister $ nevertheless, ho was 'a good and pious man. One of hig friends, at whose house he was in the habit of calling previously to his entering the church on Sundays, once took occasion to unstitch his sermon; and misplace the leaves. In the pulpit, when he had read a page or so, he. discovered the trick. "Peter," said he, :<L thou rascal ! what hast thou been doing with my Bermon ?" Then, turning to toe cjngregationi he ; said " Brethren, Peter hap been, . misplacing the leaye§ pf jny

sermon;! have not time to pit them right, so I shall read on as I find it, and you mii3t make the best of it that you can." And he accordingly r?ad through the whole of the confused mass, to the astonishment and bewilderment of his flock. On another occasion when in the pulpit, he found that he had forgotten his eermon. Nowise disconcerted at the mischance, he called out to his clerk, " Jonas, I have left my sermon at home, so hand us up that Bible, and I'll read 'era a chapter in Job worth ten of it." Jonas, like his master, was an oddity, aud bad a habit of falling asleep at the commencement of the Bermon, and waking | in the middle of it and bawling " Amen," thereby disturbing the gravity of the congregation. Mr Alcock requested he wouid not say amen till he had finished his discourse. Jonas promised conpliance ; but on the very next Sunday he made matters. worse, for he fell asleep as usual, and in the middle of the sermon, and bawled out, "Amen — at a venture."