The Argosy — page 290: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

Mrs. Henry Wood. 269 wealth rapidly diminished. Before very many years were over he saw that, in spite of his undoubted powers, he was really unfit for active life ; he retired, and, in 1866, died, comparatively speaking, a young man. Shortly before this they had returned to England. For some years my mother had taken up her pen, and, month after month, had contributed stories to Sentley’s Miscellany, and Colburn’s New Monthly Magazine. ‘These magazines were then the property of William Harrison Ainsworth. My mother’s stories appeared anony- mously, but attracted much attention; and there is no doubt that they, in conjunction with the charming and admirable essays of William Francis Ainsworth, kept the magazines from extinction—a fate, I believe, they eventually suffered. One anecdote may here be given in reference to these stories. My father and mother had come over to England for a short visit, ana were staying at a private hotel in Dover Street, Piccadilly, where they happened to make the acquaintance of some charming people— a lady and gentleman who were staying there at the same time. At this period my mother was writing a series of letters supposed to be written by a young officer out in the Crimea. They were called “‘ Ensign Tom Pepper’s Letters from the Seat of War.” One morning the lady in question mentioned to my mother that her husband had gone out for a magazine. ‘“‘ He is deeply interested in some letters that are appearing in Colburn’s New Monthly,” she said, ‘and can scarcely wait patiently from one month to another. We are both certain they are genuine,” she added, emphatically. My mother, who seldom spoke of her writing to her most intimate friends, and never at all to strangers, could not help laughing at the singular situation; and great was their astonishment at finding that the author of those masculine and realistic letters was none other than the calm, gentle, refined lady whose acquaintance they had so recently made. Xl. But my pen has carried me beyond its limits, and I cannot here enter upon my mother’s new life, which began with her literary career. This must be reserved for another paper, and for next month. I have very rapidly sketched some of the events of her earlier life. Later on, and not for these pages, the ark may be filled im more elaborately. It is certain that the beauty of her life ought to be known, and could never be too widely circulated. Faithfully depicted, it could only have a lasting influence for good upon everyone who read it. for the faithful record of one good life is above the power of alt the sermons that ever were written. | It may seem that I have exaggerated her charms and virtues 3 COMMICOOOKS.C©