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Singular！ And now there is a pause； a long pause。 Ha！ thou
hearest something … a footstep； a swift but heavy footstep！ thou
risest； thou tremblest； there is a hand on the pin of the outer
door； there is some one in the vestibule； and now the door of thy
apartment opens； there is a reflection on the mirror behind thee； a
travelling hat； a gray head and sunburnt face。 My dearest Son！ …
My darling Mother！
Yes； mother； thou didst recognise in the distant street the hoof…
tramp of the wanderer's horse。
I was not the only child of my parents； I had a brother some three
years older than myself。 He was a beautiful child； one of those
occasionally seen in England； and in England alone； a rosy； angelic
face； blue eyes； and light chestnut hair； it was not exactly an
Anglo…Saxon countenance； in which； by the bye； there is generally a
cast of loutishness and stupidity； it partook； to a certain extent；
of the Celtic character； particularly in the fire and vivacity
which illumined it； his face was the mirror of his mind； perhaps no
disposition more amiable was ever found amongst the children of
Adam； united； however； with no inconsiderable portion of high and
dauntless spirit。 So great was his beauty in infancy； that people；
especially those of the poorer classes； would follow the nurse who
carried him about in order to look at and bless his lovely face。
At the age of three months an attempt was made to snatch him from
his mother's arms in the streets of London； at the moment she was
about to enter a coach； indeed； his appearance seemed to operate so
powerfully upon every person who beheld him； that my parents were
under continual apprehension of losing him； his beauty； however；
was perhaps surpassed by the quickness of his parts。 He mastered
his letters in a few hours； and in a day or two could decipher the
names of people on the doors of houses and over the shop…windows。
As he grew up； his personal appearance became less prepossessing；
his quickness and cleverness； however； rather increased； and I may
say of him； that with respect to everything which he took in hand
he did it better and more speedily than any other person。 Perhaps
it will be asked here； what became of him？ Alas！ alas！ his was an
early and a foreign grave。 As I have said before； the race is not
always for the swift； nor the battle for the strong。
And now； doubtless； after the above portrait of my brother； painted
in the very best style of Rubens； the reader will conceive himself
justified in expecting a full…length one of myself； as a child； for
as to my present appearance； I suppose he will be tolerably content
with that flitting glimpse in the mirror。 But he must excuse me； I
have no intention of drawing a portrait of myself in childhood；
indeed it would be difficult； for at that time I never looked into
mirrors。 No attempts； however； were ever made to steal me in my
infancy； and I never heard that my parents entertained the
slightest apprehension of losing me by the hands of kidnappers；
though I remember perfectly well that people were in the habit of
standing still to look at me； ay； more than at my brother； from
which premisses the reader may form any conclusion with respect to
my appearance which seemeth good unto him and reasonable。 Should
he； being a good…natured person； and always inclined to adopt the
charitable side in any doubtful point； be willing to suppose that
I； too； was eminently endowed by nature with personal graces； I
tell him frankly that I have no objection whatever to his
entertaining that idea； moreover； that I heartily thank him； and
shall at all times be disposed； under similar circumstances； to
exercise the same species of charity towards himself。
With respect to my mind and its qualities I shall be more explicit；
for； were I to maintain much reserve on this point； many things
which appear in these memoirs would be highly mysterious to the
reader； indeed incomprehensible。 Perhaps no two individuals were
ever more unlike in mind and disposition than my brother and
myself： as light is opposed to darkness； so was that happy；
brilliant； cheerful child to the sad and melancholy being who
sprang from the same stock as himself； and was nurtured by the same
milk。
Once； when travelling in an Alpine country； I arrived at a
considerable elevation； I saw in the distance； far below； a
beautiful stream hastening to the ocean； its rapid waters here
sparkling in the sunshine； and there tumbling merrily in cascades。
On its banks were vineyards and cheerful villages； close to where I
stood； in a granite basin with steep and precipitous sides；
slumbered a deep； dark lagoon； shaded by black pines； cypresses；
and yews。 It was a wild； savage spot； strange and singular； ravens
hovered above the pines； filling the air with their uncouth notes；
pies chattered； and I heard the cry of an eagle from a neighbouring
peak； there lay the lake； the dark； solitary； and almost
inaccessible lake； gloomy shadows were upon it； which； strangely
modified； as gusts of wind agitated the surface； occasionally
assumed the shape of monsters。 So I stood on the Alpine elevation；
and looked now on the gay distant river； and now at the dark
granite…encircled lake close beside me in the lone solitude； and I
thought of my brother and myself。 I am no moraliser； but the gay
and rapid river； and the dark and silent lake； were； of a verity；
no had emblems of us two。
So far from being quick and clever like my brother； and able to
rival the literary feat which I have recorded of him； many years
elapsed before I was able to understand the nature of letters； or
to connect them。 A lover of nooks and retired corners； I was as a
child in the habit of fleeing from society； and of sitting for
hours together with my head on my breast。 What I was thinking
about； it would be difficult to say at this distance of time； I
remember perfectly well； however； being ever conscious of a
peculiar heaviness within me； and at times of a strange sensation
of fear； which occasionally amounted to horror； and for which I
could assign no real cause whatever。
By nature slow of speech； I took no pleasure in conversation； nor
in hearing the voices of my fellow…creatures。 When people
addressed me； I not unfrequently； especially if they were
strangers； turned away my head from them； and if they persisted in
their notice burst into tears； which singularity of behaviour by no
means tended to dispose people in my favour。 I was as much
disliked as my brother was deservedly beloved and admired。 My
parents； it is true； were always kind to me； and my brother； who
was good nature itself； was continually lavishing upon me every
mark of affection。
There was； however； one individual who； in the days of my
childhood； was disposed to form a favourable opinion of me。 One
day； a Jew … I have quite forgotten the circumstance； but I was
long subsequently informed of it … one day a travelling Jew knocked
at the door of a farmhouse in which we had taken apartments； I was
near at hand sitting in the bright sunshine； drawing strange lines
on the dust with my fingers； an ape and dog were my companions； the
Jew looked at me and asked me some questions； to which； though I
was quite able to speak； I returned no answer。 On the door being
opened； the Jew； after a few words； probably relating to pedlery；
demanded who the child was； sitting in the sun； the maid replied
that I was her mistress's youngest son； a child weak HERE； pointing
to her forehead。 The Jew looked at me again； and then said： ''Pon
my conscience； my dear； I believe that you must be troubled there
yourself to tell me any such thing。 It is not my habit to speak to
children； inasmuch as I hate them； because they often follow me and
fling stones after me； but I no sooner looked at that child than I
was forced to speak to it … his not answering me shows his sense；
for it has never been the custom of the wise to fling away their
words in indifferent talk and conversation； the child is a sweet
child； and has all the look of one of our people's children。 Fool；
indeed！ did I not see his eyes sparkle just now when the monkey
seized the dog by the ear？ … they shone like my own diamonds … does
your good lady want any … real and fine？ Were it not for what you
tell me； I should say it was a prophet's child。 Fool； indeed！ he
can write already； or I'll forfeit the box which I carry on my
back； and for which I should be loth to take two hundred pounds！'
He then leaned forward to inspect the lines which I had traced。
All of a sudden he started back； and grew white as a sheet； then；
taking off his hat； he made some strange gestures to me； cringing；
chattering； and showing his teeth； and shortly departed； muttering
somethi