Page 39 - DENG104_ELECTIVE_ENGLISH_I
P. 39

Elective English–I




                 Notes          by Alice, he had meditated dividing with her, and both seemed willing to relinquish them for
                                the present as irrelevant. Then in somewhat a more heightened tone, I told how, though their
                                great-grandmother Field loved all her grand-children, yet in an especial manner she might be
                                said to love their uncle, John L—, because he was so handsome and spirited a youth, and a
                                king to the rest of us; and, instead of moping about in solitary corners, like some of us, he
                                would mount the most mettlesome horse he could get, when but an imp no bigger than
                                themselves, and make it carry him half over the county in a morning, and join the hunters
                                when there were any out — and yet he loved the old great house and gardens too, but had
                                too much spirit to be always pent up within their boundaries—and how their uncle grew up
                                to man’s estate as brave as he was handsome, to the admiration of every body, but of their
                                great-grandmother Field most especially; and how he used to carry me upon his back when
                                I was a lame-footed boy—for he was a good bit older than me—many a mile when I could not
                                walk pain;—and how in after life he became lame-footed too, and I did not always (I fear)
                                make allowances enough for him when he was impatient, and in pain, nor remember sufficiently
                                how considerate he had been to me when I was lame-footed; and how when he died, though
                                he had not been dead an hour, it seemed as if he had died a great while ago, such a distance
                                there is betwixt life and death; and how I bore his death as I thought pretty well at first, but
                                afterwards it haunted and haunted me; and though I did not cry or take it to heart as some
                                do, and as I think he would have done if I had died, yet I missed him all day long, and knew
                                not till then how much I had loved him. I missed his kindness, and I missed his crossness, and
                                wished him to be alive again, to be quarrelling with him (for we quarreled sometimes), rather
                                than not have him again, and was as uneasy without him, as he their poor uncle must have
                                been when the doctor took off his limb. Here the children fell a crying, and asked if their little
                                mourning which they had on was not for uncle John, and they looked up, and prayed me not
                                to go on about their uncle, but to tell them, some stories about their pretty dead mother. Then
                                I told how for seven long years, in hope sometimes, sometimes in despair, yet persisting ever,
                                I courted the fair Alice W—n; and, as much as children could understand, I explained to them
                                what coyness, and difficulty, and denial meant in maidens—when suddenly, turning to Alice,
                                the soul of the first Alice looked out at her eyes with such a reality of re-presentment, that I
                                became in doubt which of them stood there before me, or whose that bright hair was; and
                                while I stood gazing, both the children gradually grew fainter to my view, receding, and still
                                receding till nothing at last but two mournful features were seen in the uttermost distance,
                                which, without speech, strangely impressed upon me the effects of speech; “We are not of
                                Alice, nor of thee, nor are we children at all. The children of Alice called Bartrum father. We
                                are nothing; less than nothing, and dreams. We are only what might have been, and must wait
                                upon the tedious shores of Lethe millions of ages before we have existence, and a name”—
                                and immediately awaking, I found myself quietly seated in my bachelor arm-chair, where I
                                had fallen asleep, with the faithful Bridget unchanged by my side — but John L. (or James
                                Elia) was gone for ever.


                                Self Assessment

                                1.   Choose the correct options:
                                     (i)  Charles spent six weeks in an psychiatric hospital in
                                          (a)  1795                        (b)  1790
                                          (c)  1798                        (d)  1790
                                     (ii)  Essays of Elia, a collection of Charles Lamb’s essays was published in

                                          (a)  1825                        (b)  1824
                                          (c)  1823                        (d)  1829



          34                                LOVELY PROFESSIONAL UNIVERSITY
   34   35   36   37   38   39   40   41   42   43   44