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    The Caxtons: A Family Picture — Volume 09
    The Caxtons: A Family Picture — Volume 09
    The Caxtons: A Family Picture — Volume 09
    Ebook59 pages45 minutes

    The Caxtons: A Family Picture — Volume 09

    By Edward Bulwer-Lytton

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    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherArchive Classics
    Release dateJan 1, 1849
    The Caxtons: A Family Picture — Volume 09
    Author

    Edward Bulwer-Lytton

    Edward Bulwer-Lytton, engl. Romanschriftsteller und Politiker, ist bekannt geworden durch seine populären historischen/metaphysischen und unvergleichlichen Romane wie „Zanoni“, „Rienzi“, „Die letzten Tage von Pompeji“ und „Das kommende Geschlecht“. Ihm wird die Mitgliedschaft in der sagenumwobenen Gemeinschaft der Rosenkreuzer nachgesagt. 1852 wurde er zum Kolonialminister von Großbritannien ernannt.

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      Book preview

      The Caxtons - Edward Bulwer-Lytton

      The Project Gutenberg EBook The Caxtons, by Bulwer-Lytton, Part 9 #23 in our series by Edward Bulwer-Lytton

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      **Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts**

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      *****These EBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers*****

      Title: The Caxtons, Part 9

      Author: Edward Bulwer-Lytton

      Release Date: February 2005 [EBook #7594] [Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule] [This file was first posted on January 1, 2003]

      Edition: 10

      Language: English

      *** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CAXTONS, BY LYTTON, PART 9 ***

      This eBook was produced by Pat Castevens and David Widger

      PART IX.

      CHAPTER I.

      And my father pushed aside his books.

      O young reader, whoever thou art,—or reader at least who hast been young,—canst thou not remember some time when, with thy wild troubles and sorrows as yet borne in secret, thou hast come back from that hard, stern world which opens on thee when thou puttest thy foot out of the threshold of home,—come back to the four quiet walls wherein thine elders sit in peace,—and seen, with a sort of sad amaze, how calm and undisturbed all is there? That generation which has gone before thee in the path of the passions,—the generation of thy parents (not so many years, perchance, remote from thine own),—how immovably far off, in its still repose, it seems from thy turbulent youth! It has in it a stillness as of a classic age, antique as the statues of the Greeks. That tranquil monotony of routine into which those lives that preceded thee have merged; the occupations that they have found sufficing for their happiness, by the fireside, in the arm-chair and corner appropriated to each,—how strangely they contrast thine own feverish excitement! And they make room for thee, and bid thee welcome, and then resettle to their hushed pursuits as if nothing had happened! Nothing had happened! while in thy heart, perhaps, the whole world seems to have shot from its axis, all the elements to be at war! And you sit down, crushed by that quiet happiness which you can share no more, and smile mechanically, and look into the fire; and, ten to one, you say nothing till the time comes for bed, and you take up your candle and creep miserably to your lonely room.

      Now, it in a stage-coach in the depth of winter, when three passengers are warm and snug, a fourth, all besnowed and frozen, descends from the outside and takes place amongst them, straightway all the three passengers shift their places, uneasily pull up their cloak collars, re- arrange their comforters, feel indignantly a sensible loss of caloric: the intruder has at least made a sensation. But if you had all the snows of the Grampians in your heart, you might enter unnoticed; take care not to tread on the toes of your opposite neighbor, and not a soul is disturbed, not a comforter stirs an inch. I had not slept a wink, I had not even lain down all that night,—the

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