diff options
| -rw-r--r-- | .gitattributes | 3 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 11230-0.txt | 10963 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | LICENSE.txt | 11 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | README.md | 2 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/11230-8.txt | 11386 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/11230-8.zip | bin | 0 -> 204884 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/11230.txt | 11386 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/11230.zip | bin | 0 -> 204832 bytes |
8 files changed, 33751 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/11230-0.txt b/11230-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..66d5b81 --- /dev/null +++ b/11230-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,10963 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 11230 *** + +MACMILLAN'S + +READING BOOKS. + +Book V. + + + +STANDARD V. + + + +ENGLISH CODE. + +_For Ordinary Pass_. + +Improved reading, and recitation of not less than seventy-five lines of +poetry. + +N.B.--The passages for recitation may be taken from one or more standard +authors, previously approved by the Inspector. Meaning and allusions to +be known, and, if well known, to atone for deficiencies of memory. + +_For Special Grant (Art. 19, C. 1)._ + +Parsing, with analysis of a "simple" sentence. + + + + +SCOTCH CODE. + + +_For Ordinary Pass_. + +Reading, with expression, a short passage of prose or of poetry, with +explanation, grammar, and elementary analysis of simple sentences. + +Specific Subject--English literature and language, 2nd year. (_Art. 21 +and Schedule IV., Scotch Code._) + +Three hundred lines of poetry, not before brought up, repeated; with +knowledge of meaning and allusions, and of the derivations of words. + + + + +PREFACE TO BOOK V. + + +This seems a fitting place in which to explain the general aim of +this series of Reading Books. Primarily, it is intended to provide a +systematic course for use in schools which are under State inspection; +and, with this view, each Book in the series, after the Primer, is drawn +up so as to meet the requirements, as set forth in the English and +Scotch codes issued by the Committees of Council on Education, of the +Standard to which it corresponds. + +This special adaptation will not, it is hoped, render the series less +useful in other schools. The graduated arrangement of the books, +although, perhaps, one to which every teacher may not choose to conform, +may yet serve as a test by which to compare the attainments of the +pupils in any particular school with those which, according to the +codes, may be taken as the average expected from the pupils in schools +where the Standard examination is, necessarily, enforced. + +The general character of the series is literary, and not technical. +Scientific extracts have been avoided. The teaching of special subjects +is separately recognised by the codes, and provided for by the numerous +special handbooks which have been published. The separation of the +reading class from such teaching will prove a gain to both. The former +must aim chiefly at giving to the pupils the power of accurate, and, +if possible, apt and skilful expression; at cultivating in them a good +literary taste, and at arousing a desire of further reading. All +this, it is believed, can best be done where no special or technical +information has to be extracted from the passages read. + +In the earlier Books the subject, the language, and the moral are all +as direct and simple as possible. As they advance, the language becomes +rather more intricate, because a studied simplicity, when detected +by the pupil, repels rather than attracts him. The subjects are more +miscellaneous; but still, as far as possible, kept to those which can +appeal to the minds of scholars of eleven or twelve years of age, +without either calling for, or encouraging, precocity. In Books II., +III., and IV., a few old ballads and other pieces have been purposely +introduced; as nothing so readily expands the mind and lifts it out of +habitual and sluggish modes of thought, as forcing upon the attention +the expressions and the thoughts of an entirely different time. + +The last, or Sixth Book, may be thought too advanced for its purpose. +But, in the first place, many of the pieces given in it, though selected +for their special excellence, do not involve any special difficulties; +and, in the second place, it will be seen that the requirements of the +English Code of 1875 in the Sixth Standard really correspond in some +degree to those of the special subject of English literature, formerly +recognised by the English, and still recognised by the Scotch Code. +Besides this, the Sixth Book is intended to supply the needs of pupil +teachers and of higher classes; and to be of interest enough to be read +by the scholar out of school-hours, perhaps even after school is done +with altogether. To such it may supply the bare outlines of English +literature; and may, at least, introduce them to the best English +authors. The aim of all the extracts in the book may not be fully +caught, as their beauty certainly cannot be fully appreciated, by +youths; but they may, at least, serve the purpose of all education--that +of stimulating the pupil to know more. + +The editor has to return his thanks for the kindness by which certain +extracts have been placed at his disposal by the following authors +and publishers:--Mr. Ruskin and Mr. William Allingham; Mr. Nimmo (for +extract from Hugh Miller's works); Mr. Nelson (for poems by Mr. and Mrs. +Howitt); Messrs. Edmonston and Douglas (for extract from Dasent's "Tales +from the Norse"); Messrs. Chapman and Hall (for extracts from the works +of Charles Dickens and Mr. Carlyle); Messrs. Longmans, Green, and Co. +(for extracts from the works of Macaulay and Mr. Froude); Messrs. +Routledge and Co. (for extracts from Miss Martineau's works); Mr. Murray +(for extracts from the works of Dean Stanley); and many others. + + + + + +BOOK V. + + +CONTENTS. + +_Prose._ + +PREFACE + +INTRODUCTION + +INCIDENT IN THE LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON _Warner's Tour in the Northern +Counties._ + +THE OLD PHILOSOPHER AND THE YOUNG LADY _Jane Taylor_ + +BARBARA S---- _Charles Lamb_ + +DR. ARNOLD _Tom Brown's School Days_ + +BOYHOOD'S WORK [ditto] + +WORK IN THE WORLD [ditto] + +CASTLES IN THE AIR _Addison_ + +THE DEATH OF NELSON _Southey_ + +LEARNING TO RIDE _T. Hughes_ + +MOSES AT THE FAIR _Goldsmith_ + +WHANG THE MILLER [ditto] + +AN ESCAPE _Defoe's Robinson Crusoe_ + +NECESSITY THE MOTHER OF INVENTION [ditto] + +LABRADOR _Southey's Omniana_ + +GROWTH OF EUROPEAN CIVILIZATION IN THE TWELFTH CENTURY _Robertson_ + +A WHALE HUNT _Scott_ + +A SHIPWRECK _Charles Kingsley_ + +THE BLACK PRINCE _Dean Stanley_ + +THE ASSEMBLY OF URI _E.A. Freeman_ + +MY WINTER GARDEN _Charles Kingsley_ + +ASPECTS OF NORTHERN AND SOUTHERN COUNTRIES _John Ruskin_ + +COLUMBUS IN SIGHT OF LAND _Washington Irving_ + +COLUMBUS SHIPWRECKED [ditto] + +ROBBED IN THE DESERT _Mungo Park_ + +ARISTIDES _Plutarch's Lives_ + +THE VENERABLE BEDE _J.R. Green_ + +THE DEATH OF ANSELM _Dean Church_ + +THE MURDER OF BECKET _Dean Stanley_ + +THE DEATH OF ELIZABETH _J.R. Green_ + +THE BATTLE OF NASEBY _Defoe_ + +THE PILGRIMS AND GIANT DESPAIR _Bunyan_ + +A HARD WINTER _Rev. Gilbert White_ + +A PORTENTOUS SUMMER [ditto] + +A THUNDERSTORM [ditto] + +CHARACTER OF SIR WALTER SCOTT _J. Lockhart_ + +MUMPS'S HALL _Scott_ + +THE PORTEOUS MOB [ditto] + +THE PORTEOUS MOB (_continued_) [ditto] + +JOSIAH WEDGWOOD _Speech by Mr. Gladstone_ + +THE CRIMEAN WAR _Speech by Mr. Disraeli_ + +NATIONAL MORALITY _Speech by Mr. Bright_ + +THE PLEASURES OF A LIFE OF LABOUR _Hugh Miller_ + +THE FLIGHT OF BIRDS _Rev. Gilbert White_ + +THE BATTLE OF CORUNNA _Napier_ + +BATTLE OF ALBUERA _Napier_ + +CHARGE OF THE LIGHT BRIGADE AT BALAKLAVA _The "Times" Correspondent + +AFRICAN HOSPITALITY _Mungo Park_ + +ACROSS THE DESERT OF NUBIA _Bruce's Travels_ + +A SHIPWRECK ON THE ARABIAN COAST _W.G. Palgrave_ + +AN ARABIAN TOWN _W.G. Palgrave_ + +THE QUEST OF THE HOLY GRAIL _Sir Thomas Malory_ + +VISIT TO SIR ROGER DE COVERLEY'S COUNTRY SEAT _Addison_ + +THE DEAD ASS _Sterne_ + + +_Poetry_. + +THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH _H.W. Longfellow_ + +MEN OF ENGLAND _Campbell_ + +A BALLAD _Goldsmith_ + +MARTYRS _Cowper_ + +A PSALM OF LIFE _H.W. Longfellow_ + +THE ANT AND THE CATERPILLAR _Cunningham_ + +REPORT OF AN ADJUDGED CASE _Couper_ + +THE INCHCAPE BELL _Southey_ + +BATTLE OF THE BALME _Campbell_ + +LOCHINVAR _Scott_ + +THE CHAMELEON _Merrick_ + +A WISH _Pope_ + +A SEA SONG _Cunningham_ + +ON THE LOSS OF THE 'ROYAL GEORGE' _Cowper_ + +RULE BRITANNIA _Thomson_ + +WATERLOO _Byron_ + +IVRY _Macaulay_ + +ANCIENT GREECE _Byron_ + +THE TEMPLE OF FAME _Pope_ + +A HAPPY LIFE _Sir Henry Wotton_ + +MAN'S SERVANTS _George Herbert_ + +VIRTUE _George Herbert_ + +DEATH THE CONQUEROR _James Shirley_ + +THE PASSIONS _Collins_ + +THE VISION OF BELSHAZZAR _Byron_ + +YE MARINERS OF ENGLAND _Campbell_ + +A SHIPWRECK _Byron_ + +THE HAPPY WARRIOR _Wordsworth_ + +LIBERTY _Cowper_ + +THE TROSACHS _Scott_ + +LOCHIEL'S WARNING _Campbell_ + +REST FROM BATTLE _Pope_ + +THE SAXON AND THE GAEL _Scott_ + +THE SAXON AND THE GAEL _(continued)_ _Scott_ + +THE WINTER EVENING _Cowper_ + +MAZEPPA _Byron_ + +HYMN TO DIANA _Ben Jonson_ + +L'ALLEGRO _Milton_ + +THE VILLAGE _Goldsmith_ + +THE MERCHANT OF VENICE _Shakespeare_ + +IL PENSEROSO _Milton_ + +COURTESY _Spenser_ + +NOTES + + + + + + + +BOOK V. + + + + +INTRODUCTION. + + +Throughout this book, and the next, you will find passages taken from +the writings of the best English authors. But the passages are not all +equal, nor are they all such as we would call "the best," and the more +you read and are able to judge them for yourselves, the better you will +be able to see what is the difference between the best and those that +are not so good. + +By the best authors are meant those who have written most skilfully +in prose and verse. Some of these have written in prose, because they +wished to tell us something more fully and freely than they could do if +they tied themselves to lines of an equal number of syllables, or ending +with the same sound, as men do when they write poetry. Others have +written in verse, because they wished rather to make us think over +and over again about the same thing, and, by doing so, to teach +us, gradually, how much we could learn from one thing; if we think +sufficiently long and carefully about it; and, besides this, they knew +that rhythmical or musical language would keep longest in our memory +anything which they wished to remain there; and by being stored up in +our mind, would enrich us in all our lives after. + +In these books you will find pieces taken from authors both in prose and +verse. But of the authors who have made themselves famous by the books +which they have written in our language, many had to be set aside. +Because many writers, though their books are famous, have written so +long ago, that the language which they use, though it is really the same +language as our own, is yet so old-fashioned that it is not readily +understood. By and by, when you are older, you may read these books, and +find it interesting to notice how the language is gradually changing; so +that, though we can easily understand what our grandfathers or our great +grandfathers wrote, yet we cannot understand, without carefully studying +it, what was written by our own ancestors a thousand, or even five +hundred, years ago. + +The first thing, however, that you have to do--and, perhaps, this book +may help you to do it--is to learn what is the best way of writing or +speaking our own language of the present day. You cannot learn this +better than by reading and remembering what has been written by men, +who, because they were very great, or because they laboured very hard, +have obtained a great command over the language. When we speak of +obtaining a command over language we mean that they have been able to +say, in simple, plain words, exactly what they mean. This is not so easy +a matter as you may at first think it to be. Those who write well do not +use roundabout ways of saying a thing, or they might weary us; they +do not use words or expressions which might mean one or other of two +things, or they might confuse us; they do not use bombastic language, or +language which is like a vulgar and too gaudy dress, or they might make +us laugh at them; they do not use exaggerated language, or, worse than +all, they might deceive us. If you look at many books which are written +at the present day, or at many of the newspapers which appear every +morning, you will find that those who write them often forget these +rules; and after we have read for a short time what they have written, +we are doubtful about what they mean, and only sure that they are trying +to attract foolish people, who like bombastic language as they like too +gaudy dress, and are caring little whether what they write is strictly +true or not. + +It is, therefore, very important that you should take as your examples +those who have written very well and very carefully, and who have been +afraid lest by any idle or careless expression they might either lead +people to lose sight of what is true, or might injure our language, +which has grown up so slowly, which is so dear to us, and the beauty of +which we might, nevertheless, so easily throw away. + +As you read specimens of what these authors have written, you will find +that they excel chiefly in the following ways: + +First. They tell us just what they mean; neither more nor less. + +Secondly. They never leave us doubtful as to anything we ought to know +in order to understand them. If they tell us a story, they make us feel +as if we saw all that they tell us, actually taking place. + +Thirdly. They are very careful never to use a word unless it is +necessary; never to think a word so worthless a thing that it can be +dragged in only because it sounds well. + +Fourthly. When they rouse our feelings, they do so, not that they may +merely excite or amuse us, but that they may make us sympathise more +fully with what they have to tell. + +In these matters they are mostly alike; but in other matters you will +find that they differ from each other greatly. Our language has come +from two sources. One of these is the English language as talked by our +remote ancestors, the other is the Latin language, which came to us +through French, and from which we borrowed a great deal when our +language was getting into the form it now has. Many of our words and +expressions, therefore, are Old English, while others are borrowed from +Latin. Some authors prefer to use, where they can, old English words and +expressions, which are shorter, plainer, and more direct; others prefer +the Latin words, which are more ornamental and elaborate, and perhaps +fit for explaining what is obscure, and for showing us the difference +between things that are very like. This is one great contrast; and there +are others which you will see for yourselves as you go on. And while +you notice carefully what is good in each, you should be careful not to +imitate too exactly the peculiarities, which may be the faults, in any +one. + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +INCIDENT IN THE LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON. + + +During the last visit Dr. Johnson paid to Lichfield, the friends with +whom he was staying missed him one morning at the breakfast-table. On +inquiring after him of the servants, they understood he had set off from +Lichfield at a very early hour, without mentioning to any of the +family whither he was going. The day passed without the return of the +illustrious guest, and the party began to be very uneasy on his account, +when, just before the supper-hour, the door opened, and the doctor +stalked into the room. A solemn silence of a few minutes ensued, nobody +daring to inquire the cause of his absence, which was at last +relieved by Johnson addressing the lady of the house in the following +manner:--"Madam, I beg your pardon for the abruptness of my departure +from your house this morning, but I was constrained to it by my +conscience. Fifty years ago, madam, on this day, I committed a breach of +filial piety, which has ever since lain heavy on my mind, and has +not till this day been expiated. My father, as you recollect, was a +bookseller, and had long been in the habit of attending Lichfield +market, and opening a stall for the sale of his books during that day. +Confined to his bed by indisposition, he requested me, this time fifty +years ago, to visit the market, and attend the stall in his place. But, +madam, my pride prevented me from doing my duty, and I gave my father a +refusal. To do away the sin of this disobedience, I this day went in a +post-chaise to Lichfield, and going into the market at the time of high +business, uncovered my head, and stood with it bare an hour before the +stall which my father had formerly used, exposed to the sneers of the +standers-by and the inclemency of the weather--a penance by which I +hope I have propitiated Heaven for this only instance, I believe, of +contumacy towards my father." + + Warner's _Tour in the Northern +Counties_. + + + +[Notes: _Dr. Samuel Johnson_, born 1709, died 1784 By hard and unaided +toil he won his way to the front rank among the literary men of his day. +He deserves the honour of having been the first to free literature from +the thraldom of patronage. + + +_Filial piety_. Piety is used here not in a religious sense, but in its +stricter sense of dutifulness. In Virgil "the Pious Aneas" means "Aneas +who showed dutifulness to his father."] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +THE OLD PHILOSOPHER AND THE YOUNG LADY. + + + "Alas!" exclaimed a silver-headed sage, "how narrow is the +utmost extent of human knowledge! I have spent my life in acquiring +knowledge, but how little do I know! The farther I attempt to penetrate +the secrets of nature, the more I am bewildered and benighted. Beyond +a certain limit all is but conjecture: so that the advantage of the +learned over the ignorant consists greatly in having ascertained how +little is to be known. + +"It is true that I can measure the sun, and compute the distances of the +planets; I can calculate their periodical movements, and even ascertain +the laws by which they perform their sublime revolutions; but with +regard to their construction, to the beings which inhabit them, their +condition and circumstances, what do I know more than the clown?-- +Delighting to examine the economy of nature in our own world, I have +analyzed the elements, and given names to their component parts. And +yet, should I not be as much at a loss to explain the burning of fire, +or to account for the liquid quality of water, as the vulgar, who use +and enjoy them without thought or examination?--I remark, that all +bodies, unsupported, fall to the ground, and I am taught to account for +this by the law of gravitation. But what have I gained here more than +a term? Does it convey to my mind any idea of the nature of that +mysterious and invisible chain which draws all things to a common +centre?--Pursuing the track of the naturalist, I have learned to +distinguish the animal, the vegetable, and the mineral kingdoms, and to +divide these into their distinct tribes and families;--but can I +tell, after all this toil, whence a single blade of grass derives its +vitality?--Could the most minute researches enable me to discover the +exquisite pencil that paints the flower of the field? and have I ever +detected the secret that gives their brilliant dye to the ruby and the +emerald, or the art that enamels the delicate shell?--I observe the +sagacity of animals--I call it instinct, and speculate upon its various +degrees of approximation to the reason of man; but, after all, I know as +little of the cogitations of the brute as he does of mine. When I see a +flight of birds overhead, performing their evolutions, or steering +their course to some distant settlement, their signals and cries are +as unintelligible to me as are the learned languages to an unlettered +mechanic: I understand as little of their policy and laws as they do of +'Blackstone's Commentaries.' + +"Alas! then, what have I gained by my laborious researches but an +humbling conviction of my weakness and ignorance! Of how little has +man, at his best estate, to boast! What folly in him to glory in his +contracted powers, or to value himself upon his imperfect acquisitions!" + + * * * * * + +"Well!" exclaimed a young lady, just returned from school, "my education +is at last finished: indeed, it would be strange if, after five years' +hard application, anything were left incomplete. Happily, it is all over +now, and I have nothing to do but exercise my various accomplishments. + +"Let me see!--as to French, I am mistress of that, and speak it, if +possible, with more fluency than English. Italian I can read with ease, +and pronounce very well, as well at least, and better, than any of my +friends; and that is all one need wish for in Italian. Music I have +learned till I am perfectly sick of it. But, now that we have a grand +piano, it will be delightful to play when we have company. And then +there are my Italian songs, which everybody allows I sing with taste, +and as it is what so few people can pretend to, I am particularly glad +that I can. My drawings are universally admired, especially the shells +and flowers, which are beautiful, certainly: besides this, I have a +decided taste in all kinds of fancy ornaments. And then, my dancing and +waltzing, in which our master himself owned that he could take me no +farther;--just the figure for it certainly! it would be unpardonable +if I did not excel. As to common things, geography, and history, and +poetry, and philosophy, thank my stars, I have got through them all! so +that I may consider myself not only perfectly accomplished, but also +thoroughly well informed. + +"Well, to be sure, how much I have fagged through; the only wonder is +that one head can contain it all!" + + JANE TAYLOR. + + +[Note: "_Blackstone's Commentaries_" The great standard work on +the theory and practice of the English law; written by Sir William +Blackstone (1723-1780).] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + + THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. + + + Under a spreading chestnut tree, + The village smithy stands; + The smith, a mighty man is he, + With large and sinewy hands; + And the muscles of his brawny arms + Are strong as iron bands. + + His hair is crisp, and black, and long, + His face is like the tan; + His brow is wet with honest sweat, + He earns whate'er he can, + And looks the whole world in the face, + For he owes not any man. + + Week in, week out, from morn till night, + You can hear his bellows blow; + You can hear him swing his heavy sledge, + With measured beat and slow, + Like a sexton ringing the village bell, + When the evening sun is low. + + And children coming home from school + Look in at the open door; + They love to see the flaming forge, + And hear the bellows roar, + And catch the burning sparks that fly + Like chaff from a threshing-floor. + + He goes on Sunday to the church, + And sits among his boys; + He hears the parson pray and preach, + He hears his daughter's voice + Singing in the village choir, + And it makes his heart rejoice. + + It sounds to him like her mother's voice, + Singing in Paradise! + He needs must think of her once more, + How in the grave she lies; + And with his hard, rough hand he wipes + A tear out of his eyes. + + Toiling,--rejoicing,--sorrowing, + Onward through life he goes; + Each morning sees some task begin, + Each evening sees it close; + Something attempted, something done, + Has earned a night's repose. + + Thanks, thanks to thee, my worthy friend, + For the lesson thou hast taught! + Thus at the flaming forge of life + Our fortunes must be wrought; + Thus on its sounding anvil shaped + Each burning deed and thought! + + + H.W. LONGFLLLOW. + + + +[Notes: _Henry Wadsworth Longfellow_, one of the foremost among +contemporary American poets. Born in 1807. His chief poems are +'Evangeline' and 'Hiawatha.' + + +_His face is like the tan. Tan_ is the bark of the oak, bruised and +broken for tanning leather. + + +_Thus at the flaming forge of life, &c._ = As iron is softened at +the forge and beaten into shape on the anvil, so by the trials and +circumstances of life, our thoughts and actions are influenced and our +characters and destinies decided. The metaphor is made more complicated +by being broken up.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + + MEN OF ENGLAND. + + + Men of England! who inherit + Rights that cost your sires their blood! + Men whose undegenerate spirit + Has been proved on land and flood: + + By the foes ye've fought uncounted, + By the glorious deeds ye've done, + Trophies captured--breaches mounted, + Navies conquer'd--kingdoms won! + + Yet remember, England gathers + Hence but fruitless wreaths of fame, + If the virtues of your fathers + Glow not in your hearts the same. + + What are monuments of bravery, + Where no public virtues bloom? + What avail in lands of slavery + Trophied temples, arch, and tomb? + + Pageants!--let the world revere us + For our people's rights and laws, + And the breasts of civic heroes + Bared in Freedom's holy cause. + + Yours are Hampden's Russell's glory, + Sydney's matchless shade is your,-- + Martyrs in heroic story, + Worth a thousand Agincourts! + + We're the sons of sires that baffled + Crown'd and mitred tyranny: + They defied the field and scaffold, + For their birthrights--so will we. + + CAMPBELL. + + + +[Notes: _Thomas Campbell_, born 1777, died 1844. Author of the +'Pleasures of Hope,' 'Gertrude of Wyoming,' and many lyrics. His poetry +is careful, scholarlike and polished. _Men whose undegenerate spirit, +&c._ In prose, this would run, "(Ye) men whose spirit has been proved +(to be) undegenerate," &c. The word "undegenerate," which is introduced +only as an epithet, is the real predicate of the sentence. + + +_By the foes ye've fought uncounted_. "Uncounted" agreeing with "foes." + + +_Fruitless wreaths of fame_. A poetical figure, taken from the wreaths +of laurel given as prizes in the ancient games of Greece. "Past history +will give fame to a country, but nothing more fruitful than fame, unless +its virtues are kept alive." + + +_Trophied temples, i.e.,_ Temples hung (after the fashion of the +ancients) with trophies. + + +_Arch, i.e_., the triumphal arch erected by the Romans in honour of +victorious generals. + + +_Pageants_ = "these are nought but pageants." + + +_And_ (for) _the beasts of civic heroes_. Civic heroes, those who have +striven for the rights of their fellow citizens. + + +_Hampden, i.e_., John Hampden (born 1594, died 1643), the maintainer +of the rights of the people in the reign of Charles I. He resisted the +imposition of ship-money, and died in a skirmish at Chalgrove during the +Civil War. + + +_Russell, i.e_., Lord William Russell, beheaded in 1683, in the reign +of Charles II. on a charge of treason. He had resisted the Court in its +aims at establishing the doctrine of passive obedience. + + +_Sydney, i.e.,_ Algernon Sydney. The friend of Russell, who met with the +same fate in the same year. + + +_Sydney's matchless shade_. Shade = spirit or memory. + + +_Agincourt_. The victory won by Henry V. in France, in 1415. + + +_Crown'd and mitred tyranny_. Explain this.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +BARBABA S----. + + +On the noon of the 14th of November, 1743, just as the clock had struck +one, Barbara S----, with her accustomed punctuality, ascended the long, +rabbling staircase, with awkward interposed landing-places, which led to +the office, or rather a sort of box with a desk in it, whereat sat the +then Treasurer of the Old Bath Theatre. All over the island it was the +custom, and remains so I believe to this day, for the players to receive +their weekly stipend on the Saturday. It was not much that Barbara had +to claim. + +This little maid had just entered her eleventh year; but her important +station at the theatre, as it seemed to her, with the benefits which she +felt to accrue from her pious application of her small earnings, had +given an air of womanhood her steps and to her behaviour. You would have +taken her to have been at least five years older. Till latterly she had +merely been employed in choruses, or where children were wanted to fill +up the scene. But the manager, observing a diligence and adroitness in +her above her age, had for some few months past intrusted to her the +performance of whole parts. You may guess the self-consequence of the +promoted Barbara. + + * * * * * + +The parents of Barbara had been in reputable circumstances. The father +had practised, I believe, as an apothecary in the town. But his +practice, from causes for which he was himself to blame, or perhaps from +that pure infelicity which accompanies some people in their walk through +life, and which it is impossible to lay at the door of imprudence, +was now reduced to nothing. They were, in fact, in the very teeth of +starvation, when the manager, who knew and respected them in better +days, took the little Barbara into his company. + +At the period I commenced with, her slender earnings were the sole +support of the family, including two younger sisters. I must throw +a veil over some mortifying circumstances. Enough to say, that her +Saturday's pittance was the only chance of a Sunday's meal of meat. + +This was the little starved, meritorious maid, stood before old +Ravenscroft, the treasurer, for her Saturday's payment. Ravenscroft was +a man, I have heard many old theatrical people besides herself say, of +all men least calculated for a treasurer. He had no head for accounts, +paid away at random, kept scarce any books, and summing up at the week's +end, if he found himself a pound or so deficient, blest himself that it +was no more. + +Now Barbara's weekly stipend was a bare half-guinea. By mistake he +popped into her hand a whole one. + +Barbara tripped away. + +She was entirely unconscious at first of the mistake: God knows, +Ravenscroft would never have discovered it. + +But when she had got down to the first of those uncouth landing-places +she became sensible of an unusual weight of metal pressing her little +hand. + +Now, mark the dilemma. + +She was by nature a good child. From her parents and those about her she +had imbibed no contrary influence. But then they had taught her nothing. +Poor men's smoky cabins are not always porticoes of moral philosophy. +This little maid had no instinct to evil, but then she might be said +to have no fixed principle. She had heard honesty commended, but never +dreamed of its application to herself. She thought of it as something +which concerned grown-up people, men and women. She had never known +temptation, or thought of preparing resistance against it. + +Her first impulse was to go back to the old treasurer, and explain to +him his blunder. He was already so confused with age, besides a natural +want of punctuality, that she would have had some difficulty in making +him understand it. She saw _that_ in an instant. And then it was such a +bit of money: and then the image of a larger allowance of butcher's meat +on their table next day came across her, till her little eyes glistened, +and her mouth moistened. But then Mr. Ravenscroft had always been +so good-natured, had stood her friend behind the scenes, and even +recommended her promotion to some of her little parts. But again the old +man was reputed to be worth a world of money. He was supposed to have +fifty pounds a year clear of the theatre. And then came staring upon her +the figures of her little stockingless and shoeless sisters. And when +she looked at her own neat white cotton stockings, which her situation +at the theatre had made it indispensable for her mother to provide for +her, with hard straining and pinching from the family stock, and thought +how glad she should be to cover their poor feet with the same, and how +then they could accompany her to rehearsals, which they had hitherto +been precluded from doing, by reason of their unfashionable attire,--in +these thoughts she reached the second landing-place--the second, I mean, +from the top--for there was still another left to traverse. + +Now, virtue, support Barbara! + +And that never-failing friend did step in; for at that moment a strength +not her own, I have heard her say, was revealed to her--a reason above +reasoning--and without her own agency, as it seemed (for she never felt +her feet to move), she found herself transported back to the individual +desk she had just quitted, and her hand in the old hand of Ravenscroft, +who in silence took back the refunded treasure, and who had been sitting +(good man) insensible to the lapse of minutes, which to her were anxious +ages; and from that moment a deep peace fell upon her heart, and she +knew the quality of honesty. + +A year or two's unrepining application to her profession brightened up +the feet and the prospects of her little sisters, set the whole +family upon their legs again, and released her from the difficulty of +discussing moral dogmas upon a landing-place. + + _Essays of Elia_, by CHARLES LAMB. + + + + + * * * * * + + + + + A BALLAD. + + + "Turn, gentle Hermit of the dale, + And guide my lonely way + To where yon taper cheers the vale + With hospitable ray. + + "For here forlorn and lost I tread, + With fainting steps and slow, + Where wilds, immeasurably spread, + Seem lengthening as I go." + + "Forbear, my son," the Hermit cries, + "To tempt the dangerous gloom; + For yonder faithless phantom flies + To lure thee to thy doom. + + "Here to the houseless child of want + My door is open still; + And, though my portion is but scant, + I give it with good will. + + "Then turn to-night, and freely share + Whate'er my cell bestows; + My rushy couch and frugal fare, + My blessing and repose. + + "No flocks that range the valley free + To slaughter I condemn; + Taught by that Power that pities me, + I learn to pity them: + + "But from the mountain's grassy side + A guiltless feast I bring; + A scrip with herbs and fruits supplied, + And water from the spring. + + "Then, pilgrim turn; thy cares forego; + All earth-born cares are wrong: + Man wants but little here below, + Nor wants that little long." + + Soft as the dew from heaven descends + His gentle accents fell: + The modest stranger lowly bends, + And follows to the cell. + + Far in a wilderness obscure + The lonely mansion lay, + A refuge to the neighbouring poor, + And strangers led astray. + + No stores beneath its humble thatch + Required a master's care; + The wicket, opening with a latch, + Received the harmless pair. + + And now, when busy crowds retire + To take their evening rest, + The Hermit trimm'd his little fire, + And cheer'd his pensive guest; + + And spread his vegetable store, + And gaily pressed, and smiled; + And, skill'd in legendary lore, + The lingering hours beguiled. + + Around, in sympathetic mirth, + Its tricks the kitten tries, + The cricket chirrups on the hearth, + The crackling faggot flies. + + But nothing could a charm impart + To soothe the stranger's woe; + For grief was heavy at his heart, + And tears began to flow. + + His rising cares the Hermit spied, + With answering care oppress'd; + And, "Whence, unhappy youth," he cried, + "The sorrows of thy breast?" + + "From better habitations spurn'd, + Reluctant dost thou rove? + Or grieve for friendship unreturn'd, + Or unregarded love?" + + "Alas! the joys that fortune brings + Are trifling, and decay; + And those who prize the paltry things, + More trifling still are they." + + "And what is friendship but a name, + A charm that lulls to sleep; + A shade that follows wealth or fame, + But leaves the wretch to weep?" + + "And love is still an emptier sound, + The modern fair one's jest; + On earth unseen, or only found + To warm the turtle's nest." + + "For shame, fond youth, thy sorrows hush, + And spurn the sex," he said; + But while he spoke, a rising blush + His love-lorn guest betray'd. + + Surprised he sees new beauties rise, + Swift mantling to the view; + Like colours o'er the morning skies, + As bright, as transient too. + + The bashful look, the rising breast, + Alternate spread alarms: + The lovely stranger stands confess'd + A maid in all her charms. + + And, "Ah! forgive a stranger rude-- + A wretch forlorn," she cried; + "Whose feet unhallow'd thus intrude + Where Heaven and you reside." + + "But let a maid thy pity share, + Whom love has taught to stray; + Who seeks for rest, but finds despair + Companion of her way." + + "My father lived beside the Tyne, + A wealthy lord was he; + And all his wealth was mark'd as mine, + He had but only me." + + "To win me from his tender arms + Unnumber'd suitors came, + Who praised me for imputed charms, + And felt, or feign'd, a flame." + + "Each hour a mercenary crowd + With richest proffers strove: + Amongst the rest, young Edwin bow'd, + But never talk'd of love." + + "In humble, simple habit clad, + No wealth nor power had he: + Wisdom and worth were all he had, + But these were all to me. + + "And when, beside me in the dale, + He caroll'd lays of love, + His breath lent fragrance to the gale, + And music to the grove. + + "The blossom opening to the day, + The dews of heaven refined, + Could nought of purity display + To emulate his mind. + + "The dew, the blossom on the tree, + With charms inconstant shine: + Their charms were his, but, woe to me, + Their constancy was mine. + + "For still I tried each fickle art, + Importunate and vain; + And, while his passion touch'd my heart, + I triumph'd in his pain: + + "Till, quite dejected with my scorn, + He left me to my pride; + And sought a solitude forlorn, + In secret, where he died. + + "But mine the sorrow, mine the fault, + And well my life shall pay: + I'll seek the solitude he sought, + And stretch me where he lay. + + "And there, forlorn, despairing, hid, + I'll lay me down and die; + 'Twas so for me that Edwin did, + And so for him will I." + + "Forbid it, Heaven!" the Hermit cried, + And clasp'd her to his breast: + The wondering fair one turn'd to chide-- + 'Twas Edwin's self that press'd! + + "Turn, Angelina, ever dear, + My charmer, turn to see + Thy own, thy long-lost Edwin here, + Restored to love and thee. + + "Thus let me hold thee to my heart, + And every care resign: + And shall we never, never part, + My life--my all that's mine? + + "No, never from this hour to part, + We'll live and love so true, + The sigh that rends thy constant heart + Shall break thy Edwin's too." + GOLDSMITH. + + + +[Notes: _Oliver Goldsmith_, poet and novelist. The friend and +contemporary of Johnson, Burke, and Reynolds. Born 1728, died 1774. + +This poem is introduced into 'The Vicar of Wakefield,' and Goldsmith +there says of it, "It is at least free from the false taste of loading +the lines with epithets;" or as he puts it more fully "a string of +epithets that improve the sound without carrying on the sense." + + +"_Immeasurably spread_" = spread to an immeasurable length. + + +_No flocks that range the valleys free_. "Free" may be joined either +with flocks or with valley. + +Note the position of the negative, "No flocks that range," &c. = I do +not condemn the flocks that range. + + +_Guiltless feast_. Because it does not involve the death of a +fellow-creature. + + + _Scrip_. A purse or wallet; a word of Teutonic origin. +Distinguish from scrip, a writing or certificate, from the Latin word +_scribo_, I write. + + +_Far in a wilderness obscure_. Obscure goes with mansion, not with +wilderness. + + +_And gaily pressed_ (him to eat). + + +_With answering care_, i.e., with sympathetic care. + + + _A charm that lulls to sleep_. Charm is here in its proper +sense: that of a thing pleasing to the fancy is derivative. + + +_A shade that follows wealth or fame_. A shade = a ghost or phantom. + + +_Swift mantling_, &c. Spreading quickly over, like a cloak or mantle. + + +_Where heaven and you reside_ = where you, whose only thoughts are of +Heaven, reside. + + +_Whom love has taught to stray_. This use of the word "taught" for +"made" or "forced," is taken from a Latin idiom, as in Virgil, "He +_teaches_ the woods to ring with the name of Amaryllis." It is stronger +than "made" or "forced," and implies, as here, that she had forgotten +all but the wandering life that is now hers. + + +_He had but only me_. But or only is redundant. + + +_To emulate his mind_ = to be equal to his mind in purity. + + +_Their constancy was mine_. This verse has often been accused of +violating sense; but, however artificial the expression may be, neither +the sense is obscure, nor the way of expressing it inaccurate. It +is evidently only another way of saying "in the little they had of +constancy they resembled me as they resembled him in their charms."] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +DR. ARNOLD. + + +We listened, as all boys in their better moods will listen (ay, and men +too, for the matter of that), to a man whom we felt to be, with all his +heart and soul and strength, striving against whatever was mean and +unmanly and unrighteous in our little world. It was not the cold, clear +voice of one giving advice and warning from serene heights to those who +were struggling and sinning below, but the warm, living voice of one who +was fighting for us, and by our sides, and calling on us to help him and +ourselves and one another. And so, wearily and little by little, but +surely and steadily on the whole, was brought home to the young boy, +for the first time, the meaning of his life: that it was no fool's +or sluggard's paradise into which he had wandered by chance, but a +battle-field ordained from of old, where there are no spectators, but +the youngest must take his side, and the stakes are life and death. And +he who roused this consciousness in them showed them, at the same time, +by every word he spoke in the pulpit, and by his whole daily life, +how that battle was to be fought; and stood there before them, their +fellow-soldier and the captain of their band. The true sort of captain, +too, for a boy's army, one who had no misgivings, and gave no uncertain +word of command, and, let who would yield or make truce, would fight +the fight out (so every boy felt) to the last gasp and the last drop of +blood. Other sides of his character might take hold of and influence +boys here and there, but it was this thoroughness and undaunted courage +which more than anything else won his way to the hearts of the great +mass of those on whom he left his mark, and made them believe first in +him, and then in his Master. + +It was this quality, above all others, which moved such boys as Tom +Brown, who had nothing whatever remarkable about him except excess of +boyishness; by which I mean animal life in its fullest measure; good +nature and honest impulses, hatred of injustice and meanness, and +thoughtlessness enough to sink a three-decker. And so, during the next +two years, in which it was more than doubtful whether he would get good +or evil from the school, and before any steady purpose or principle grew +up in him, whatever his week's sins and shortcomings might have been, he +hardly ever left the chapel on Sunday evenings without a serious resolve +to stand by and follow the doctor, and a feeling that it was only +cowardice (the incarnation of all other sins in such a boy's mind) which +hindered him from doing so with all his heart. + + _Tom Brown's School Days_. + + + +[Note: _Dr. Arnold_, the head-master of Rugby School, died 1842. +His life, which gives an account of the work done by him to promote +education, has been written by Dean Stanley.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + + MARTYRS + + + Patriots have toil'd, and in their country's cause + Bled nobly; and their deeds, as they deserve, + Receive proud recompense. We give in charge + Their names to the sweet lyre. The Historic Muse, + Proud of the treasure, marches with it down + To latest times; and Sculpture, in her turn, + Gives bond in stone and ever-during brass + To guard them, and to immortalize her trust. + But fairer wreaths are due--though never paid-- + To those who, posted at the shrine of Truth, + Have fallen in her defence. A patriot's blood, + Well spent in such a strife, may earn indeed, + And for a time ensure, to his loved land + The sweets of liberty and equal laws; + But martyrs struggle for a brighter prize, + And win it with more pain. Their blood is shed + In confirmation of the noblest claim,-- + Our claim to feed upon immortal truth, + To walk with God, to be divinely free, + To soar and to anticipate the skies.-- + Yet few remember them! They lived unknown, + Till persecution dragged them into fame, + And chased them up to Heaven. Their ashes flew-- + No marble tells us whither. With their names + No bard embalms and sanctifies his song; + And History, so warm on meaner themes, + Is cold on this. She execrates indeed + The tyranny that doom'd them to the fire, + But gives the glorious sufferers little praise. + + COWPER. + + +[Notes:_William Cowper_ (born 1731, died 1800), the author of 'The +Task,' 'Progress of Error,' 'Truth,' and many other poems; all marked by +the same pure thought and chaste language. + +This poem is written in what is called "blank verse," i.e., verse in +which the lines do not rhyme, the rhythm depending on the measure of the +verse. + + +_To the sweet lyre_ = To the poet, whose lyre (or poetry) is to keep +their names alive. + + +_The Historic Muse_. The ancients held that there were nine Muses or +Goddesses who presided over the arts and sciences; and of these, one was +the Muse of History. + + +_Gives bond in stone, &c._ = Pledges herself. The pith of the phrase is +in its almost homely simplicity, the more striking in its contrast with +the classical allusions by which it is surrounded. + + +_Her trust_, i.e., what is trusted to her. + + +_To anticipate the skies_ = to ennoble our life and so approach that +higher life we hope for after death. + + +_Till persecution dragged them into fame_ = forced them by its cruelty +to become famous against their will. + + +_No marble tells us whither_. Because they have no tombstone and no +epitaph.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + + A PSALM OF LIFE. + + + Tell me not in mournful numbers, + Life is but an empty dream! + For the soul is dead that slumbers, + And things are not what they seem. + + Life is real! Life is earnest! + And the grave is not its goal; + "Dust thou art, to dust returnest;" + Was not spoken of the soul. + + Not enjoyment, and not sorrow, + Is our destined end or way; + But to act that each to-morrow + Finds us farther than to-day. + + Art is long, and Time is fleeting, + And our hearts, though stout and brave, + Still like muffled drums are beating + Funeral marches to the grave. + + In the world's broad field of battle, + In the Bivouac of life, + Be not like dumb, driven cattle! + Be a hero in the strife! + + Trust no Future, howe'er pleasant! + Let the dead Past bury its dead! + Act--act in the living Present! + Heart within, and God o'erhead! + + Lives of great men all remind us + We can make our lives sublime, + And, departing, leave behind us + Footprints on the sands of time;-- + + Footprints, that perhaps another, + Sailing o'er life's solemn main, + A forlorn and shipwrecked brother, + Seeing, shall take heart again. + + Let us, then, be up and doing, + With a heart for any fate; + Still achieving, still pursuing, + Learn to labour and to wait. + + H.W. LONGFELLOW. + + + +[Notes:_Art is long, and time is fleeting_. A translation from the +Latin, _Ars longa, vita brevis est._ + + +The metaphor in the last two stanzas in this page is strangely mixed. +Footprints could hardly be seen by those sailing over the main.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +BOYHOOD'S WORK. + +In no place in the world has individual character more weight than at +a public school. Remember this, I beseech you, all you boys who are +getting into the upper forms. Now is the time in all your lives, +probably, when you may have more wide influence for good or evil in the +society you live in than you ever can have again. Quit yourselves like +men, then; speak up, and strike out, if necessary, for whatsoever +is true, and manly, and lovely, and of good report; never try to be +popular, but only to do your duty, and help others to do theirs, and you +may leave the tone of feeling in the school higher than you found it, +and so be doing good, which no living soul can measure, to generations +of your countrymen yet unborn. For boys follow one another in herds like +sheep, for good or evil; they hate thinking, and have rarely any settled +principles. Every school, indeed, has its own traditionary standard of +right and wrong, which cannot be transgressed with impunity, marking +certain things as low and blackguard, and certain others as lawful and +right. This standard is ever varying, though it changes only slowly, and +little by little; and, subject only to such standard, it is the leading +boys for the time being who give the tone to all the rest, and make +the school either a noble institution for the training of Christian +Englishmen, or a place where a young boy will get more evil than he +would if he were turned out to make his way in London streets, or +anything between these two extremes. + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +WORK IN THE WORLD. + +"I want to be at work in the world," said Tom, "and not dawdling away +three years at Oxford." + +"What do you mean by 'at work in the world?'" said the master, pausing, +with his lips close to his saucerful of tea, and peering at Tom over it. + +"Well, I mean real work; one's profession, whatever one will have really +to do, and make one's living by. I want to be doing some real good, +feeling that I am not only at play in the world," answered Tom, rather +puzzled to find out himself what he really did mean. + +"You are mixing up two very different things in your head, I think, +Brown," said the master, putting down the empty saucer, "and you ought +to get clear about them. You talk of 'working to get your living,' and +'doing some real good in the world,' in the same breath. Now, you may be +getting a very good living in a profession, and yet doing no good at all +in the world, but quite the contrary, at the same time. Keep the latter +before you as your one object, and you will be right, whether you make +a living or not; but if you dwell on the other, you'll very likely drop +into mere money-making, and let the world take care of itself, for good +or evil. Don't be in a hurry about finding your work in the world for +yourself; you are not old enough to judge for yourself yet, but just +look about you in the place you find yourself in, and try to make things +a little better and honester there. You'll find plenty to keep your hand +in at Oxford, or wherever else you go. And don't be led away to think +this part of the world important, and that unimportant. Every corner of +the world is important. No man knows whether this part or that is most +so, but every man may do some honest work in his own corner." + + _Tom Brown's School Days_. + + + + + * * * * * + + + + + THE ANT AND THE CATERPILLAR + + + As an ant, of his talents superiorly vain, + Was trotting, with consequence, over the plain, + A worm, in his progress remarkably slow, + Cried--"Bless your good worship wherever you go; + I hope your great mightiness won't take it ill, + I pay my respects with a hearty good-will." + With a look of contempt, and impertinent pride, + "Begone, you vile reptile," his antship replied; + "Go--go, and lament your contemptible state, + But first--look at me--see my limbs how complete; + I guide all my motions with freedom and ease, + Run backward and forward, and turn when I please; + Of nature (grown weary) you shocking essay! + I spurn you thus from me--crawl out of my way." + The reptile, insulted and vex'd to the soul, + Crept onwards, and hid himself close in his hole; + But nature, determined to end his distress, + Soon sent him abroad in a butterfly's dress. + Erelong the proud ant, as repassing the road, + (Fatigued from the harvest, and tugging his load), + The beau on a violet-bank he beheld, + Whose vesture, in glory, a monarch's excelled; + His plumage expanded--'twas rare to behold + So lovely a mixture of purple and gold. + The ant, quite amazed at a figure so gay, + Bow'd low with respect, and was trudging away. + "Stop, friend," says the butterfly; "don't be surprised, + I once was the reptile you spurn'd and despised; + But now I can mount, in the sunbeams I play, + While you must for ever drudge on in your way." + + CUNNINGHAM. + + +[Note: _Of nature (grown weary) you shocking essay_ = you wretched +attempt (= essay) by nature, when she had grown weary.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + + REPORT + OF AN ADJUDGED CASE, NOT TO BE FOUND IN + ANY OF THE BOOKS. + + + Between Nose and Eyes a strange contest arose. + The spectacles set them unhappily wrong; + The point in dispute was, as all the world knows, + To which the said spectacles ought to belong. + + So Tongue was the lawyer, and argued the cause, + With a great deal of skill, and a wig full of learning, + While chief baron Ear sat to balance the laws, + So fam'd for his talent in nicely discerning. + + In behalf of the Nose it will quickly appear, + And your lordship, he said, will undoubtedly find, + That the nose has had spectacles always in wear, + Which amounts to possession time out of mind. + + Then holding the spectacles up to the court-- + Your lordship observes they are made with a straddle, + As wide as the ridge of the nose is; in short, + Designed to sit close to it, just like a saddle. + + Again, would your lordship a moment suppose + ('Tis a case that has happen'd, and may be again) + That the visage or countenance had not a nose, + Pray who would, or who could, wear spectacles then? + + On the whole it appears, and my argument shows, + With a reasoning the court will never condemn, + That the spectacles plainly were made for the Nose, + And the Nose was as plainly intended for them. + + Then shifting his side as a lawyer knows how, + He pleaded again in behalf of the Eyes; + But what were his arguments few people know, + For the court did not think they were equally wise. + + So his lordship decreed, with a grave, solemn tone, + Decisive and clear, without one _if_ or _but_-- + That, whenever the Nose put his Spectacles on, + By daylight or candlelight--Eyes should be shut! + + COWPER. + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +CASTLES IN THE AIR. + + +Alnaschar was a very idle fellow, that never would set his hand to any +business during his father's life. When his father died he left him to +the value of a hundred drachmas in Persian money. Alnaschar, in order +to make the best of it, laid it out in bottles, glasses, and the finest +earthenware. These he piled up in a large open basket; and, having made +choice of a very little shop, placed the basket at his feet, and leaned +his back upon the wall in expectation of customers. As he sat in this +posture, with his eyes upon the basket, he fell into a most amusing +train of thought, and was overheard by one of his neighbours, as he +talked to himself in the following manner:--"This basket," says he, +"cost me at the wholesale merchant's a hundred drachmas, which is all I +had in the world. I shall quickly make two hundred of it by selling it +in retail. These two hundred drachmas will in a very little while rise +to four hundred; which, of course, will amount in time to four thousand. +Four thousand drachmas cannot fail of making eight thousand. As soon as +by these means I am master of ten thousand, I will lay aside my trade of +a glass-man and turn jeweller. I shall then deal in diamonds, pearls, +and all sorts of rich stones. When I have got together as much wealth +as I can well desire, I will make a purchase of the finest house I can +find, with lands, slaves, and horses. I shall then begin to enjoy myself +and make a noise in the world. I will not, however, stop there; but +still continue my traffic until I have got together a hundred thousand +drachmas. When I have thus made myself master of a hundred thousand +drachmas, I shall naturally set myself on the footing of a prince, +and will demand the grand vizier's daughter in marriage, after having +represented to that minister the information which I have received of +the beauty, wit, discretion, and other high qualities which his daughter +possesses. I will let him know at the same time that it is my intention +to make him a present of a thousand pieces of gold on our marriage day. +As soon as I have married the grand vizier's daughter, I must make my +father-in-law a visit, with a great train and equipage. And when I am +placed at his right hand, which he will do of course, if it be only to +honour his daughter, I will give him the thousand pieces of gold which +I promised him; and afterwards, to his great surprise, will present him +with another purse of the same value, with some short speech: as, 'Sir, +you see I am a man of my word: I always give more than I promise.'" + +"When I have brought the princess to my house, I shall take particular +care to breed her in due respect for me. To this end I shall confine her +to her own apartments, make her a short visit, and talk but little to +her. Her women will represent to me that she is inconsolable by reason +of my unkindness; but I shall still remain inexorable. Her mother will +then come and bring her daughter to me, as I am seated on a sofa. The +daughter, with tears in her eyes, will fling herself at my feet, and beg +me to receive her into my favour. Then will I, to imprint her with a +thorough veneration for my person, draw up my legs, and spurn her from +me with my foot in such a manner that she shall fall down several paces +from the sofa." + +Alnaschar was entirely swallowed up in his vision, and could not forbear +acting with his foot what he had in his thoughts: so that, unluckily +striking his basket of brittle ware, which was the foundation of all his +grandeur, he kicked his glasses to a great distance from him into the +street, and broke them into ten thousand pieces. + + ADDISON. + + + +[Note: _Joseph Addison_, born 1672, died 1719. Chiefly famous as a +critic and essayist. His calm sense and judgment, and the attraction of +his style, have rendered his writings favourites from his own time to +ours.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + + THE INCHCAPE BELL. + + No stir on the air, no swell on the sea, + The ship was still as she might be: + The sails from heaven received no motion; + The keel was steady in the ocean. + + With neither sign nor sound of shock, + The waves flow'd o'er the Inchcape Rock; + So little they rose, so little they fell, + They did not move the Inchcape Bell. + + The pious abbot of Aberbrothock + Had placed that bell on the Inchcape Rock; + On the waves of the storm it floated and swung, + And louder and louder its warning rung. + + When the rock was hid by the tempest swell, + The mariners heard the warning bell, + And then they knew the perilous rock, + And blessed the abbot of Aberbrothock. + + The float of the Inchcape Bell was seen, + A darker spot on the ocean green. + Sir Ralph the Rover walked the deck, + And he fix'd his eye on the darker speck. + + His eye was on the bell and float,-- + Quoth he, "My men, put down the boat, + And row me to the Inchcape Rock,-- + I'll plague the priest of Aberbrothock!". + + The boat was lower'd, the boatmen row, + And to the Inchcape Rock they go. + Sir Ralph leant over from the boat, + And cut the bell from off the float. + + Down sunk the bell with a gurgling sound; + The bubbles rose, and burst around. + Quoth he, "Who next comes to the rock + Won't bless the priest of Aberbrothock!" + + Sir Ralph the Rover sail'd away; + He scour'd the sea for many a day; + And now, grown rich with plunder'd store, + He steers his way for Scotland's shore. + + So thick a haze o'erspread the sky, + They could not see the sun on high; + The wind had blown a gale all day; + At evening it hath died away. + + "Canst hear," said one, "the breakers roar? + For yonder, methinks, should be the shore. + Now, where we are, I cannot tell,-- + I wish we heard the Inchcape Bell." + + They heard no sound--the swell is strong, + Though the wind hath fallen they drift along: + Till the vessel strikes with a shivering shock, + "Oh heavens! it is the Inchcape Rock!" + + Sir Ralph the Rover tore his hair, + And cursed himself in his despair; + And waves rush in on every side, + The ship sinks fast beneath the tide. + + + SOUTHEY. + + +[Notes: _Robert Southey_, born 1774, died 1848. Poet Laureate and author +of numerous works in prose and verse.] + + +_Quoth_. Saxon _Cwaethan_, to say. A Perfect now used only in the first +and third persons singular of the present indicative; the nominative +following the verb. + + +_Till the vessel strikes with a shivering shock_. Notice the effective +use of alliteration (_i.e_., the recurrence of words beginning with the +same letter), which is the basis of old-English rhythm.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +THE DEATH OF NELSON. + + +It had been part of Nelson's prayer that the British fleet might be +distinguished by humanity in the victory he expected. Setting an example +himself, he twice gave orders to cease firing upon the 'Redoubtable,' +supposing that she had struck because her great guns were silent; for, +as she carried no flag, there was no means of instantly ascertaining the +fact. From this ship, which he had thus twice spared, he received his +death. A ball, fired from her mizen-top, which, in the then situation of +the two vessels, was not more than fifteen yards from that part of the +deck where he was standing, struck the epaulette on his left shoulder, +about a quarter after one, just in the heat of action. He fell upon his +face, on the spot which was covered with his poor secretary's blood. +Hardy (his captain), who was a few steps from him, turning round, saw +three men raising him up. + +"They have done for me at last, Hardy," said he. + +"I hope not," cried Hardy. "Yes," he replied, "my backbone is shot +through." + +Yet even now, not for a moment losing his presence of mind, he observed, +as they were carrying him down the ladder, that the tiller ropes, which +had been shot away, were not yet replaced, and ordered that new ones +should be rove immediately; then, that he might not be seen by the crew, +he took out his handkerchief, and covered his face and his stars. Had he +but concealed these badges of honour from the enemy, England, perhaps, +would not have had cause to receive with sorrow the news of the battle +of Trafalgar. The cockpit was crowded with wounded and dying men, over +whose bodies he was with some difficulty conveyed, and laid upon +a pallet in the midshipmen's berth. It was soon perceived, upon +examination, that the wound was mortal. This, however, was concealed +from all except Captain Hardy, the chaplain, and the medical attendants. +He himself being certain, from the sensation in his back, and the gush +of blood he felt momently within his breast, that no human care could +avail him, insisted that the surgeon should leave him, and attend to +those to whom he might be useful; "For," said he, "you can do nothing +for me." All that could be done was to fan him with paper, and +frequently to give him lemonade to alleviate his intense thirst. He was +in great pain, and expressed much anxiety for the event of the action, +which now began to declare itself. As often as a ship struck, the crew +of the 'Victory' hurrahed, and at every hurrah a visible expression of +joy gleamed in the eyes and marked the countenance of the dying hero. + +But he became impatient to see Captain Hardy; and as that officer, +though often sent for, could not leave the deck, Nelson feared some +fatal cause prevented him, and repeatedly cried, "Will no one bring +Hardy to me? He must be killed! He is surely dead!" + +An hour and ten minutes elapsed from the time when Nelson received his +wound before Hardy could come to him. They shook hands in silence, Hardy +in vain struggling to suppress the feelings of that most painful yet +sublimest moment. "Well, Hardy," said Nelson, "how goes the day with +us?" "Very well," replied Hardy; "ten ships have struck, but five of the +van have tacked, and show an intention to bear down upon the 'Victory.' +I have called two or three of our fresh ships round, and have no doubt +of giving them a drubbing." "I hope," said Nelson, "none of our ships +have struck?" Hardy answered, "There was no fear of that." Then, and not +till then, Nelson spoke of himself. "I am a dead man, Hardy," said he; +"I am going fast; it will be all over with me soon; come nearer to me." +Hardy observed that he hoped Mr. Beattie (the surgeon) could yet hold +out some prospect of life. "Oh no," he replied, "it is impossible; my +back is shot through--Beattie will tell you so." Captain Hardy then once +more shook hands with him, and, with a heart almost bursting, hastened +upon deck. + +By this time all feeling below the breast was gone; and Nelson, having +made the surgeon ascertain this, said to him, "You know I am gone; I +know it--I feel something rising in my breast (putting his hand on his +left side) which tells me so." And upon Beattie's inquiring whether +his pain was very great, he replied, "So great, that he wished he were +dead." "Yet," said he, in a lower voice, "one would like to live a +little longer too!" + +Captain Hardy, some fifty minutes after he had left the cockpit, +returned, and again taking the hand of his dying friend and commander, +congratulated him on having gained a complete victory. How many of the +enemy were taken, he did not know, as it was impossible to perceive +them distinctly, but fourteen or fifteen at least. "That's well," cried +Nelson, "but I bargained for twenty." And then, in a stronger voice, +he said, "Anchor,! Hardy, anchor." Hardy upon this hinted that Admiral +Collingwood would take upon himself the direction of affairs. "Not while +I live, Hardy," said the dying Nelson, ineffectually endeavouring to +raise himself from the bed; "do you anchor." His previous order for +preparing to anchor had shown how clearly he foresaw the necessity of +this. Presently, calling Hardy back, he said to him in a low voice, +"Don't throw me overboard," and he desired that he might be buried by +his parents, unless it should please the king to order otherwise. "Kiss +me, Hardy," said he. Hardy knelt down and kissed his cheek, and Nelson +said, "Now, I am satisfied. Thank God, I have done my duty." Hardy stood +over him in silence for a moment or two, then knelt again and kissed his +forehead. "Who is that?" said Nelson; and being informed, he replied, +"God bless you, Hardy." And Hardy then left him for ever. + + SOUTHEY. + + + +[Note:_The death of Nelson_ took place at the Battle of Trafalgar, +1805.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + + BATTLE OF THE BALTIC. + + + I. + + Of Nelson and the North, + Sing the glorious day's renown, + When to battle fierce came forth + All the might of Denmark's crown, + And her arms along the deep proudly shone; + By each gun the lighted brand, + In a bold, determined hand, + And the Prince of all the land + Led them on. + + II. + + Like leviathans afloat, + Lay their bulwarks on the brine; + While the sign of battle flew + On the lofty British line: + It was ten of April morn by the chime: + As they drifted on their path, + There was silence deep as death; + And the boldest held his breath + For a time. + + + III. + + But the might of England flushed + To anticipate the scene; + And her van the fleeter rushed + O'er the deadly space between. + "Hearts of oak!" our captains cried; when each gun + From its adamantine lips + Spread a death-shade round the ships. + Like the hurricane eclipse + Of the sun. + + IV. + + Again! again! again! + And the havoc did not slack, + Till a feebler cheer the Dane + To our cheering sent us back;-- + Their shots along the deep slowly boom;-- + Then cease--and all is wail, + As they strike the shattered sail; + Or, in conflagration pale, + Light the gloom. + + V. + + Out spoke the victor then, + As he hailed them o'er the wave, + "Ye are brothers! ye are men! + And we conquer but to save:-- + So peace instead of death let us bring; + But yield, proud foe, thy fleet, + With the crews, at England's feet, + And make submission meet + To our king." + + VI. + + Then Denmark blest our chief + That he gave her wounds repose; + And the sounds of joy and grief + From her people wildly rose, + As Death withdrew his shades from the day + While the sun looked smiling bright + O'er a wide and woeful sight, + Where the fires of funeral light + Died away. + + VII. + + Now joy, Old England, raise! + For the tidings of thy might, + By the festal cities' blaze, + Whilst the wine-cup shines in light; + And yet amidst that joy and uproar, + Let us think of them that sleep, + Full many a fathom deep, + By thy wild and stormy steep, + Elsinore! + + VIII. + + Brave hearts! to Britain's pride + Once so faithful and so true, + On the deck of fame that died;-- + With the gallant good Riou;-- + Soft sigh the winds of heaven o'er their grave! + While the billow mournful rolls, + And the mermaid's song condoles; + Singing glory to the souls + Of the brave! + + CAMPBELL + + +[Notes: This is the first specimen of the "ode" in this book. Notice the +variety in length between the lines, and draw up a scheme of the rhymes +in each stanza. The battle was fought, and Copenhagen bombarded, in +April, 1801. + + +_It was ten of April morn by the chime_. It was ten o'clock on the +morning in April. + + +_Like the hurricane eclipse_. The eclipse of the sun in storm.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + + LOCHINVAR. + + + Oh, young Lochinvar is come out of the west, + Through all the wide border his steed is the best; + And, save his good broad-sword, he weapon had none; + He rode all unarmed, and he rode all alone! + So faithful in love, and so dauntless in war, + There never was knight like the young Lochinvar! + + He stay'd not for brake, and he stopped not for stone, + He swam the Eske river where ford there was none-- + But, ere he alighted at Netherby gate, + The bride had consented, the gallant came late; + For a laggard in love, and a dastard in war, + Was to wed the fair Ellen of brave Lochinvar! + + So boldly he entered the Netherby Hall, + Among bridesmen, and kinsmen, and brothers, and all!-- + Then spoke the bride's father, his hand on his sword-- + For the poor craven bridegroom said never a word-- + "Oh come ye in peace here, or come ye in war?-- + Or to dance at our bridal? young Lord Lochinvar!" + + "I long woo'd your daughter, my suit you denied: + Love swells like the Solway, but ebbs like its tide! + And now am I come, with this lost love of mine, + To lead but one measure, drink one cup of wine! + There be maidens in Scotland, more lovely by far, + That would gladly be bride to the young Lochinvar!" + + The bride kissed the goblet, the knight took it up, + He quaffed off the wine, and he threw down the cup! + She looked down to blush, and she looked up to sigh-- + With a smile on her lip, and a tear in her eye. + He took her soft hand, ere her mother could bar-- + "Now tread we a measure!" said young Lochinvar, + + So stately his form, and so lovely her face, + That never a hall such a galliard did grace! + While her mother did fret, and her father did fume, + And the bridegroom stood dangling his bonnet and plume, + And the bride-maidens whispered, "'Twere better by far + To have matched our fair cousin with young Lochinvar!" + + One touch to her hand, and one word in her ear, + When they reached the hall door, and the charger stood + near: + So light to the croup the fair lady he swung, + So light to the saddle before her he sprung! + "She is won! we are gone, over bank, bush, and scaur; + They'll have fleet steeds that follow!" cried young + Lochinvar. + + There was mounting 'mong Graemes of the Netherby clan; + Forsters, Fenwicks, and Musgraves, they rode and they ran; + There was racing and chasing on Cannobie Lea, + But the lost bride of Netherby ne'er did they see! + + So daring in love, and so dauntless in war, + Have ye e'er heard of gallant like young Lochinvar? + + SCOTT. + +[Notes: _Lochinvar_. The song sung by Dame Heron in 'Marmion,' one of +Scott's longest and most famous poems. The fame of Scott (1771-1832) +rests partly on these poems, but much more on the novels, in which he is +excelled by no one. + + +_He stay'd not for brake_. Brake, a word of Scandinavian origin, means a +place overgrown with brambles; from the crackling noise they make as one +passes over them. + + +_Love swells like the Solway_. For a scene in which the rapid advance +of the Solway tide is described, see the beginning of Scott's novel of +'Redgauntlet.' + + +_Galliard_. A gay rollicker. Used also in Chaucer. + + +_Scaur_. A rough, broken ground. The same word as scar.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +LEARNING TO RIDE. + + +Some time before my father had bought a small Shetland pony for us, +Moggy by name, upon which we were to complete our own education in +riding, we had already mastered the rudiments under the care of our +grandfather's coachman. He had been in our family thirty years, and we +were as fond of him as if he had been a relation. He had taught us to +sit up and hold the bridle, while he led a quiet old cob up and down +with a leading rein. But, now that Moggy was come, we were to make quite +a new step in horsemanship. Our parents had a theory that boys must +teach themselves, and that a saddle (except for propriety, when we rode +to a neighbour's house to carry a message, or had to appear otherwise +in public) was a hindrance rather than a help. So, after our morning's +lessons, the coachman used to take us to the paddock in which Moggy +lived, put her bridle on, and leave us to our own devices. I could see +that that moment was from the first one of keen enjoyment to my brother. +He would scramble up on her back, while she went on grazing--without +caring to bring her to the elm stool in the corner of the field, which +was our mounting place--pull her head up, kick his heels into her sides, +and go scampering away round the paddock with the keenest delight. He +was Moggy's master from the first day, though she not unfrequently +managed to get rid of him by sharp turns, or stopping dead short in her +gallop. She knew it quite well; and, just as well, that she was mistress +as soon as I was on her back. For weeks it never came to my turn, +without my wishing myself anywhere else. George would give me a lift +up, and start her. She would trot a few yards, and then begin grazing, +notwithstanding my timid expostulations and gentle pullings at her +bridle. Then he would run up, and pull up her head, and start her again, +and she would bolt off with a flirt of her head, and never be content +till I was safely on the grass. The moment that was effected she took to +grazing again, and I believe enjoyed the whole performance as much as +George, and certainly far more than I did. We always brought her a +carrot, or bit of sugar, in our pockets, and she was much more like a +great good-tempered dog with us than a pony. + + _Memoir of a Brother_. T. HUGHES. + + + + + * * * * * + + + + + THE CHAMELEON. + + + Oft has it been my lot to mark + A proud, conceited, talking spark, + With eyes that hardly served at most + To guard their master 'gainst a post: + Yet round the world the blade has been + To see whatever can be seen. + Returning from his finished tour, + Grown ten times perter than before. + Whatever word you chance to drop, + The travelled fool your mouth will stop: + "Sir, if my judgment you'll allow-- + I've seen--and sure I ought to know." + So begs you'd pay a due submission + And acquiesce in his decision. + Two travellers of such a cast, + As o'er Arabia's wilds they passed, + And on their way in friendly chat, + Now talked of this, and now of that: + Discoursed a while, 'mongst other matter, + Of the chameleon's form and nature. + "A stranger animal," cries one, + "Sure never lived beneath the sun; + A lizard's body, lean and long, + A fish's head, a serpent's tongue, + Its foot with triple claw disjoined; + And what a length of tail behind! + How slow its pace! And then its hue-- + Who ever saw so fine a blue?"-- + "Hold there," the other quick replies, + "'Tis green; I saw it with these eyes + As late with open mouth it lay, + And warmed it in the sunny ray; + Stretched at its ease the beast I viewed, + And saw it eat the air for food." + "I've seen it, sir, as well as you, + And must again affirm it blue: + At leisure I the beast surveyed + Extended in the cooling shade." + "'Tis green, 'tis green, sir, I assure you." + "Green!" cried the other in a fury: + "Why, do you think I've lost my eyes?" + "'Twere no great loss," the friend replies, + "For if they always serve you thus, + You'll find them of but little use." + So high at last the contest rose, + From words they almost came to blows, + When luckily came by a third: + To him the question they referred, + And begged he'd tell them if he knew, + Whether the thing was green or blue? + "Sirs," cries the umpire, "cease your pother, + The creature's neither one nor t'other. + I caught the animal last night, + And view'd it o'er by candle-light: + I marked it well--'twas black as jet. + You stare; but, sirs, I've got it yet: + And can produce it"--"Pray, sir, do: + I'll lay my life the thing is blue." + "And I'll be sworn, that when you've seen + The reptile you'll pronounce him green!" + "Well, then, at once to ease the doubt," + Replies the man, "I'll turn him out: + And when before your eyes I've set him, + If you don't find him black, I'll eat him," + He said, and full before their sight, + Produced the beast, and lo!--'twas white. + Both stared: the man looked wondrous wise: + "My children," the chameleon cries + (Then first the creature found a tongue), + "You all are right, and all are wrong; + When next you tell of what you view, + Think others see as well as you! + Nor wonder if you find that none + Prefers your eyesight to his own." + + MERRICK. + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +MOSES AT THE FAIR + + +All this conversation, however, was only preparatory to another scheme; +and indeed I dreaded as much. This was nothing less than that, as we +were now to hold up our heads a little higher in the world, it would be +proper to sell the colt, which was grown old, at a neighbouring fair, +and buy us a horse that would carry us single or double upon an +occasion, and make a pretty appearance at church, or upon a visit. This +at first I opposed stoutly; but it was stoutly defended. However, as I +weakened, my antagonist gained strength, till at last it was resolved +to part with him. As the fair happened on the following day, I had +intentions of going myself; but my wife persuaded me that I had got a +cold, and nothing could prevail upon her to permit me from home. "No, my +dear," said she, "our son Moses is a discreet boy, and can buy and sell +to a very good advantage: you know all our great bargains are of his +purchasing. He always stands out and higgles, and actually tires them +till he gets a bargain." + +As I had some opinion of my son's prudence, I was willing enough to +entrust him with this commission; and the next morning I perceived his +sisters mighty busy in fitting out Moses for the fair; trimming his +hair, brushing his buckles, and cocking his hat with pins. The business +of the toilet being over, we had at last the satisfaction of seeing +him mounted upon the colt, with a deal box before him to bring +home groceries in. He had on a coat made of that cloth they call +"thunder-and-lightning," which, though grown too short, was much too +good to be thrown away. His waistcoat was of gosling green, and his +sisters had tied his hair with a broad black riband. We all followed him +several paces from the door, bawling after him, "Good luck! good luck!" +till we could see him no longer. *** + +I changed the subject by seeming to wonder what could keep our son so +long at the fair, as it was now almost nightfall. "Never mind our son," +cried my wife; "depend upon it, he knows what he is about. I'll warrant +we'll never see him sell his hen of a rainy day. I have seen him bring +such bargains as would amaze one. I'll tell you a good story about that, +that will make you split your sides with laughing. But, as I live, +yonder comes Moses, without a horse, and the box on his back." + +As she spoke, Moses came slowly on foot, and sweating under the deal +box, which he had strapped round his shoulders like a pedlar. "Welcome, +welcome, Moses! Well, my boy, what have you brought us from the fair?" +"I have brought you myself," cried Moses, with a sly look, and resting +the box on the dresser. "Ay, Moses," cried my wife, "that we know; but +where is the horse?" "I have sold him," cried Moses, "for three pounds +five shillings and twopence." "Well done, my good boy," returned she; +"I knew you would touch them off. Between ourselves, three pounds five +shillings and twopence is no bad day's work. Come, let us have it then." +"I have brought back no money," cried Moses again. "I have laid it all +out in a bargain, and here it is," pulling out a bundle from his breast; +"here they are; a gross of green spectacles, with silver rims and +shagreen cases." "A gross of green spectacles!" repeated my wife, in a +faint voice. "And you have parted with the colt, and brought us back +nothing but a gross of green paltry spectacles!" "Dear mother," cried +the boy, "why won't you listen to reason? I had them a dead bargain, +or I should not have brought them. The silver rims alone will sell for +double the money." "A fig for the silver rims," cried my wife, in a +passion: "I dare swear they won't sell for above half the money at the +rate of broken silver, five shillings an ounce." "You need be under no +uneasiness," cried I, "about selling the rims, for they are not worth +sixpence; for I perceive they are only copper varnished over." "What!" +cried my wife, "not silver! the rims not silver?" "No," cried I, "no +more silver than your saucepan." "And so," returned she, "we have parted +with the colt, and have only got a gross of green spectacles, with +copper rims and shagreen cases? A murrain take such trumpery! The +blockhead has been imposed upon, and should have known his company +better." "There, my dear," cried I, "you are wrong; he should not have +known them at all." "Marry, hang the idiot!" returned she, "to bring me +such stuff: if I had them I would throw them in the fire." "There again +you are wrong, my dear," cried I, "for though they be copper, we will +keep them by us, as copper spectacles, you know, are better than +nothing." + +By this time the unfortunate Moses was undeceived. He now saw that he +had been imposed upon by a prowling sharper, who, observing his figure, +had marked him for an easy prey. I therefore asked the circumstances +of his deception. He sold the horse, it seems, and walked the fair in +search of another. A reverend-looking man brought him to a tent, under +pretence of having one to sell. "Here," continued Moses, "we met another +man, very well dressed, who desired to borrow twenty pounds upon these, +saying that he wanted money, and would dispose of them for a third of +the value. The first gentleman, who pretended to be my friend, whispered +me to buy them, and cautioned me not to let so good an offer pass. I +sent for Mr. Flamborough, and they talked him up as finely as they did +me; and so at last we were persuaded to buy the two gross between us." + + GOLDSMITH. + + +[Note: _Moses at the fair_. This is an incident taken from Goldsmith's +novel, 'The Vicar of Wakefield.' The narrator throughout is the Vicar +himself, who tells us the simple joys and sorrows of his family, and the +foibles of each member of it.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + + A WISH. + + + Happy the man whose wish and care + A few paternal acres bound, + Content to breathe his native air + In his own ground. + + Whose herds with milk, whose fields with bread, + Whose flocks supply him with attire; + Whose trees in summer yield him shade, + In winter, fire. + + Blest who can unconcernedly find + Hours, days, and years, glide soft away + In health of body, peace of mind, + Quiet by day, + + Sound sleep by night; study and ease + Together mixed; sweet recreation, + And innocence, which most does please, + With meditation. + + Thus let me live, unseen, unknown; + Thus unlamented let me die; + Steal from the world, and not a stone + Tell where I lie. + + POPE. + + +[Notes: _Alexander Pope_, born 1688, died 1744. The author of numerous +poems and translations, all of them marked by the same lucid thought and +polished versification. The Essay on Man, the Satires and Epistles, and +the translations of Homer's Iliad and Odyssey, are amongst the most +important. + + +Write a paraphrase of the first two stanzas.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +WHANG THE MILLER. + +Whang, the miller, was naturally avaricious; nobody loved money better +than he, or more respected those that had it. When people would talk of +a rich man in company, Whang would say, "I know him very well; he and I +are intimate; he stood for a child of mine." But if ever a poor man was +mentioned, he had not the least knowledge of the man; he might be very +well for aught he knew; but he was not fond of many acquaintances, and +loved to choose his company. + +Whang, however, with all his eagerness for riches, was in reality poor; +he had nothing but the profits of his mill to support him; but though +these were small, they were certain; while his mill stood and went, he +was sure of eating; and his frugality was such that he every day laid +some money by, which he would at intervals count and contemplate with +much satisfaction. Yet still his acquisitions were not equal to his +desires; he only found himself above want, whereas he desired to be +possessed of affluence. + +One day, as he was indulging these wishes, he was informed that a +neighbour of his had found a pan of money under ground, having dreamed +of it three nights running before. These tidings were daggers to the +heart of poor Whang. "Here am I," says he, "toiling and moiling from +morning till night for a few paltry farthings, while neighbour Hunks +only goes quietly to bed, and dreams himself into thousands before +morning. Oh that I could dream like him! with what pleasure would I dig +round the pan; how slily would I carry it home; not even nay wife should +see me; and then, oh, the pleasure of thrusting one's hand into a heap +of gold up to the elbow!" + +Such reflections only served to make the miller unhappy; he discontinued +his former assiduity; he was quite disgusted with small gains, and his +customers began to forsake him. Every day he repeated the wish, and +every night laid himself down in order to dream. Fortune, that was for a +long time unkind, at last, however, seemed to smile upon his distresses, +and indulged him with the wished-for vision. He dreamed that under +a certain part of the foundation of his mill there was concealed a +monstrous pan of gold and diamonds, buried deep in the ground, and +covered with a large flat stone. He rose up, thanked the stars that were +at last pleased to take pity on his sufferings, and concealed his good +luck from every person, as is usual in money dreams, in order to have +the vision repeated the two succeeding nights, by which he should be +certain of its veracity. His wishes in this also were answered; he still +dreamed of the same pan of money, in the very same place. + +Now, therefore, it was past a doubt; so, getting up early the third +morning, he repairs alone, with a mattock in his hand, to the mill, and +began to undermine that part of the wall which the vision directed. +The first omen of success that he met was a broken mug; digging still +deeper, he turns up a house tile, quite new and entire. At last, after +much digging, he came to the broad flat stone, but then so large, that +it was beyond one man's strength to remove it. "Here," cried he, in +raptures, to himself, "here it is! under this stone there is room for a +very large pan of diamonds indeed! I must e'en go home to my wife, and +tell her the whole affair, and get her to assist me in turning it up." +Away, therefore, he goes, and acquaints his wife with every circumstance +of their good fortune. Her raptures on this occasion may easily be +imagined; she flew round his neck, and embraced him in an agony of joy: +but those transports, however, did not delay their eagerness to know the +exact sum; returning, therefore, speedily together to the place where +Whang had been digging, there they found--not indeed the expected +treasure, but the mill, their only support, undermined and fallen. + + GOLDSMITH. + + +[Note: _He stood for a child of mine_, i.e., stood as godfather for a +child of mine.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + + A SEA SONG. + + + A wet sheet and a flowing sea, + A wind that follows fast, + And fills the white and rustling sail + And bends the gallant mast. + And bends the gallant mast, my boys, + While, like the eagle free, + Away the good ship flies, and leaves + Old England on the lee. + + Oh, for a soft and gentle wind, + I heard a fair one cry: + But give to me the snoring breeze + And white waves heaving high. + And white waves heaving high, my lads, + A good ship, tight and free, + The world of waters is our home, + And merry men are we. + + There's tempest in yon horned moon, + And lightning in yon cloud; + And hark the music, mariners! + The wind is piping loud. + The wind is piping loud, my boys, + The lightning flashes free; + While the hollow oak our palace is, + Our heritage the sea. + + CUNNINGHAM. + + +[Note: _A wet sheet_. The _sheet_ is the rope fastened to the lower +corner of a sail to retain it in position.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + + ON THE LOSS OF THE 'ROYAL GEORGE.' + + + Toll for the brave! + The brave that are no more; + All sunk beneath the wave, + Fast by their native shore! + + Eight hundred of the brave, + Whose courage well was tried, + Had made the vessel heel, + And laid her on her side. + + A land breeze shook the shrouds, + And she was overset; + Down went the 'Royal George,' + With all her crew complete. + + Toll for the brave! + Brave Kempenfeldt is gone; + His last sea-fight is fought; + His work of glory done. + + It was not in the battle; + No tempest gave the shock; + She sprang no fatal leak; + She ran upon no rock. + + His sword was in its sheath; + His fingers held the pen, + When Kempenfeldt went down, + With twice four hundred men. + + Weigh the vessel up, + Once dreaded by our foes! + And mingle with our cup, + The tear that England owes. + + Her timbers yet are sound, + And she may float again, + Full-charged with England's thunder, + And plough the distant main. + + But Kempenfeldt is gone, + His victories are o'er; + And he and his eight hundred + Shall plough the wave no more. + + COWPER. + + +[Note: _The Royal George_. A ship of war, which went down with Admiral +Kempenfeldt and her crew off Spithead in 1782, while undergoing a +partial careening.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +AN ESCAPE. + + +After we had rowed, or rather driven, about a league and a half, as we +reckoned it, a raging wave, mountain-like, came rolling astern of us, +and plainly bade us expect our end. In a word, it took us with such a +fury that it overset the boat at once; and, separating us as well from +the boat as from one another, gave us not time hardly to say, "O God!" +for we were all swallowed up in a moment. + +Nothing can describe the confusion of thought which I felt when I sunk +into the water; for though I swam very well, yet I could not deliver +myself from the waves, so as to draw breath, till that wave having +driven me, or rather carried me a vast way on towards the shore, and +having spent itself, went back, and left me upon the land almost dry, +but half dead from the water I took in. I had so much presence of mind +as well as breath left, that, seeing myself nearer the mainland than I +expected, I got upon my feet, and endeavoured to make on towards the +land as fast as I could, before another wave should return, and take me +up again. But I soon found it was impossible to avoid it; for I saw the +sea come after me as high as a great hill, and as furious as an enemy, +which I had no means or strength to contend with; my business was to +hold my breath, and raise myself upon the water, if I could: and so by +swimming to preserve my breathing, and pilot myself towards the shore, +if possible; my greatest concern now being, that the sea, as it would +carry me a great way towards the shore when it came on, might not carry +me back again with it when it gave back towards the sea. + +The wave that came upon me again, buried me at once twenty or thirty +feet deep in its own body; and I could feel myself carried with a mighty +force and swiftness towards the shore a very great way; but I held my +breath, and assisted myself to swim still forward with all my might. I +was ready to burst with holding my breath, when, as I felt myself rising +up, so, to my immediate relief, I found my head and hands shoot out +above the surface of the water; and though it was not two seconds of +time that I could keep myself so, yet it relieved me greatly, gave me +breath and new courage. I was covered again with water a good while, but +not so long but I held it out; and finding the water had spent itself, +and began to return, I struck forward against the return of the waves, +and felt ground again with my feet. I stood still a few moments to +recover breath, and till the water went from me, and then took to my +heels, and run with what strength I had farther towards the shore. But +neither would this deliver me from the fury of the sea, which came +pouring in after me again, and twice more I was lifted up by the waves, +and carried forwards as before, the shore being very flat. + +The last time of these two had well near been fatal to me; for the +sea having hurried me along as before, landed me, or rather dashed +me against a piece of a rock, and that with such force as it left me +senseless, and indeed helpless, as to my own deliverance; for the blow +taking my side and breast, beat the breath, as it were, quite out of my +body; and had it returned again immediately, I must have been strangled +in the water; but I recovered a little before the return of the waves, +and seeing I should be covered again with the water, I resolved to hold +fast by a piece of the rock, and so to hold my breath, if possible, till +the wave went back; now as the waves were not so high as at first, being +near land, I held my hold till the wave abated, and then fetched another +run, which brought me so near the shore that the next wave, though it +went over me, yet did not so swallow me up as to carry me away, and the +next run I took, I got to the main land, where, to my great comfort, I +clambered up the clifts of the shore, and sat me down upon the grass, +free from danger, and quite out of the reach of the water. + +DEFOE'S _Robinson Crusoe_. + + + +[Notes: _Daniel Defoe_, born 1663, died 1731. He was prominent as a +political writer, but his later fame has rested chiefly on his works of +fiction, of which 'Robinson Crusoe' (from which this extract is taken) +is the most important. + + +"_Gave us not time hardly to say_." This to us has the effect of a +double negative. But if we take "hardly" in its strict sense, the +sentence is clear: "did not give us time, even with difficulty, to say." + + + (_at foot_)."_As_ I felt myself rising up, _so_ to my +immediate relief." Note this use of _as_ and _so_, in a way which now +sounds archaic. + + + _Run_. The older form, for which we would use _ran_. + + +"That with such force, _as_ it left me," &c. For _as_, we would now use +_that_. + + +_Clifts of the shore_. Like clefts, broken openings in the shore.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + + RULE BRITANNIA. + + + When Britain first, at Heaven's command, + Arose from out the azure main, + This was the charter of the land, + And guardian angels sung this strain: + Rule, Britannia, rule the waves, + Britons never will be slaves! + + The nations, not so blessed as thee, + Must in their turn to tyrants fall; + While thou shalt flourish great and free, + The dread and envy of them all. + + Still more majestic shalt thou rise, + More dreadful from each foreign stroke; + As the loud blast that tears the skies, + Serves but to root thy native oak. + + Thee haughty tyrants ne'er shall tame: + All their attempts to bend thee down + Will but arouse thy generous flame; + But work their woe and thy renown. + + To thee belongs the rural reign; + Thy cities shall with commerce shine; + All thine shall be the subject main: + And every shore it circles thine. + + The Muses, still with freedom found, + Shall to thy happy coast repair: + Blessed isle! with matchless beauty crowned, + And manly hearts to guard the fair: + Rule, Britannia, rule the waves, + Britons never will be slaves! + + THOMSON. + + +[Notes: _James Thomson_, born 1700, died 1748. He was educated for the +Scotch ministry, but came to London, and commenced his career as a poet +by the series of poems called the 'Seasons,' descriptive of scenes in +nature. + + + _The Muses, i.e._, the Sciences and Arts, which flourish best +where there are free institutions.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + + WATERLOO. + + + There was a sound of revelry by night, + And Belgium's capital had gathered then + Her Beauty and her Chivalry; and bright + The lamps shone o'er fair women and brave men; + A thousand hearts beat happily; and when + Music arose with its voluptuous swell, + Soft eyes look'd love to eyes which spake again, + And all went merry as a marriage-bell;-- + But hush! hark! a deep sound strikes like a rising + knell! + + Did ye not hear it?--No; 'twas but the wind, + Or the car rattling o'er the stony street: + On with the dance! let joy be unconfined; + No sleep till morn, when Youth and Pleasure meet + To chase the glowing Hours with flying feet-- + But hark!--That heavy sound breaks in once more, + As if the clouds its echo would repeat; + And nearer, clearer, deadlier than before! + Arm! arm! it is--it is--the cannon's opening roar! + + Ah! then and there was hurrying to and fro, + And gathering tears, and tremblings of distress, + And cheeks all pale, which but an hour ago + Blush'd at the praise of their own loveliness: + And there were sudden partings, such as press + The life from out young hearts, and choking sighs + Which ne'er might be repeated; who could guess + If ever more should meet those mutual eyes, + Since upon night so sweet such awful morn could rise? + + And there was mounting in hot haste: the steed, + The mustering squadron, and the clattering car, + Went pouring forward with impetuous speed, + And swiftly forming in the ranks of war; + And the deep thunder peal on peal afar; + And near, the beat of the alarming drum + Roused up the soldier ere the morning-star; + While throng'd the citizens, with terror dumb, + Or whispering, with white lips,--"The foe! they come! + they come!" + + And Ardennes waves above them her green leaves, + Dewy with nature's tear-drops, as they pass, + Grieving, if aught inanimate e'er grieves, + Over the unreturning brave,--alas! + Ere evening to be trodden like the grass, + Which now beneath them, but above shall grow + In its next verdure; when this fiery mass + Of living valour, rolling on the foe + And burning with high hope, shall moulder cold and low! + + Last noon beheld them full of lusty life, + Last eve in Beauty's circle proudly gay, + The midnight brought the signal-sound of strife, + The morn the marshalling in arms,--the day + Battle's magnificently stern array! + The thunder-clouds close o'er it, which when rent + The earth is cover'd thick with other clay, + Which her own clay shall cover--heap'd and pent, + Rider and horse,--friend, foe,--in one red burial blent! + + BYRON. + + + +[Notes:_Waterloo_. Fought, 1815, between Napoleon on one side, and +Wellington and Blucher (the Prussian General) on the other. Its result +was the defeat of Napoleon, and his imprisonment by the Allies in St. +Helena. The festivities held at Brussels, the headquarters of the +British Army, on the eve of the battle, were rudely disturbed by the +news that the action had already begun. + + +_Ardennes_. A district on the frontier of France, bordering on Belgium. + + +_Ivry_. The battle in which Henry IV., in the struggle for the crown of +France, completely routed the forces of the Catholic League (1590). + + +_My white plume shine_. The white plume was the distinctive mark of the +House of Bourbon. + + +_Oriflamme_, or Auriflamme (lit. Flame of Gold), originally the banner +of the Abbey of St. Denis, afterwards appropriated by the crown of +France. "Let the helmet of Navarre (Henry's own country) be to-day the +Royal Standard of France." + + + _Culverin_. A piece of artillery of long range. + + + _The fiery Duke_ (of Mayenne). + + +_Pricking fast_. Cf. "a gentle knight was pricking o'er the plain" +(Spencer). + + _With all the hireling chivalry of Guelders and Almayne_. The +allies of the League. Almayne or Almen, a district in the Netherlands. + + + + + * * * * * + + + + + IVRY. + + + The King is come to marshal us, in all his armour drest, + And he has bound a snow-white plume upon his gallant crest. + He look'd upon his people, and a tear was in his eye: + He look'd upon the traitors, and his glance was stern and + high, + Right graciously he smiled on us, as roll'd from wing to + wing, + Down all our line a deafening shout, "God save our Lord the + King!" + "And if my standard-bearer fall, as fall full well he may, + For never saw I promise yet of such a bloody fray, + Press where ye see my white plume shine, amidst the ranks + of war, + And be your Oriflamme to-day the helmet of Navarre." + + Hurrah! the foes are moving. Hark to the mingled din + Of fife, and steed, and trump, and drum, and roaring + culverin! + The fiery Duke is pricking fast across St. André's plain, + With all the hireling chivalry of Guelders and Almayne. + Now by the lips of those we love, fair gentlemen of France, + Charge for the Golden Lilies,--upon them with the lance! + A thousand spurs are striking deep, a thousand spears in + rest, + A thousand knights are pressing close behind the snow-white + crest; + And in they burst, and on they rush'd, while, like a + guiding star, + Amidst the thickest carnage blazed the helmet of Navarre. + + Now, God be praised, the day is ours! Mayenne hath turned + his rein. + D'Aumale hath cried for quarter. The Flemish Count is + slain. + Their ranks are breaking like thin clouds before a Biscay + gale. + The field is heap'd with bleeding steeds, and flags, and + cloven mail. + And then we thought on vengeance, and, all along our van, + "Remember St. Bartholomew!" was pass'd from man to man: + But out spake gentle Henry, "No Frenchman is my foe; + Down, down, with every foreigner! but let your brethren + go." + Oh! was there ever such a knight, in friendship or in war, + As our Sovereign Lord, King Henry, the soldier of Navarre! + + Ho! maidens of Vienna; ho! matrons of Lucerne; + Weep, weep, and rend your hair for those who never shall + return. + Ho! Philip, send, for charity, thy Mexican pistoles, + That Antwerp monks may sing a mass for thy poor spearmen's + souls. + Ho! gallant nobles of the League, look that your arms be + bright: + Ho! burghers of St. Genevieve, keep watch and ward to- + night, + For our God hath crush'd the tyrant, our God hath raised + the slave, + And mock'd the counsel of the wise, and the valour of the + brave. + Then glory to His holy name, from whom all glories are; + And glory to our Sovereign Lord, King Henry of Navarre! + + MACAULAY. + + + +[Notes: _D'Aumale_, The Duke of; another leader of the League. + + +_The Flemish Court_. Count Egmont, the son of the Count Egmont, whose +death on the scaffold in 1568, in consequence of the resistance he +offered to the tyranny of Philip II. of Spain, has made the name famous. +The son, on the other hand, was the attached servant of Philip II.; and +was unnatural enough to say, when reminded of his father, "Talk not of +him, he deserved his death." + + +_Remember St. Bartholomew_, i.e., the massacre of the Protestants on St. +Bartholomew's day, 1572. + + +_Maidens of Vienna: matrons of Lucerne_. In reference to the Austrian +and Swiss Allies of the League. + + +_Thy Mexican pistoles_. Alluding to the riches gained by the Spanish +monarchy from her American colonies. + + +_Ho! burghers of St. Genevieve_ = citizens of Paris, of which St. +Genevieve was held to be the patron saint.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +NECESSITY THE MOTHER OF INVENTION. + +And now I began to apply myself to make such necessary things as I found +I most wanted, as particularly a chair or a table; for without these I +was not able to enjoy the few comforts I had in the world; I could not +write or eat, or do several things with so much pleasure without a +table. + +So I went to work; and here I must needs observe that, as reason is the +substance and original of the mathematics, so by stating and squaring +everything by reason, and by making the most rational judgment of +things, every man may be in time master of every mechanic art. I +had never handled a tool in my life, and yet in time, by labour, +application, and contrivance, I found at last that I wanted nothing but +I could have made it, especially if I had had tools; however, I made +abundance of things, even without tools, and some with no more tools +than an adze and a hatchet, which perhaps were never made that way +before, and that with infinite labour; for example, if I wanted a board, +I had no other way but to cut down a tree, set it on an edge before me, +and hew it flat on either side with my axe, till I had brought it to be +as thin as a plank, and then dubb it smooth with my adze. It is true, by +this method, I could make but one board out of a whole tree, but this I +had no remedy for but patience, any more than I had for the prodigious +deal of time and labour which it took me up to make a plank or board; +but my time or labour was little worth, and so it was as well employed +one way as another. + +However, I made me a table and a chair, as I observed above, in the +first place, and this I did out of the short pieces of boards that +I brought on my raft from the ship: but when I had wrought out some +boards, as above, I made large shelves of the breadth of a foot and a +half one over another, all along one side of my cave, to lay all my +tools, nails, and iron-work, and in a word, to separate everything at +large in their places, that I might come easily at them; I knocked +pieces into the wall of the rock to hang my guns and all things that +would hang up. So that had my cave been to be seen, it looked like a +general magazine of all necessary things, and I had everything so ready +at my hand, that it was a great pleasure to me to see all my goods in +such order, and especially to find my stock of all necessaries so great. + + +DEFOE'S _Robinson Crusoe._ + + + +[Notes: _Reason is the substance and original of the mathematics_. +Original here = origin or foundation.] + + +_The most rational judgment_ = the judgment most in accordance with +reason.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + + ANCIENT GREECE. + + + Clime of the unforgotten brave! + Whose land from plain to mountain-cave + Was Freedom's home or Glory's grave! + Shrine of the mighty! can it be + That this is all remains of thee? + Approach, thou craven crouching slave: + Say, is not this Thermopylae? + These waters blue that round you lave,-- + Oh servile offspring of the free!-- + Pronounce what sea, what shore is this? + The gulf, the rock of Salamis! + These scenes, their story not unknown, + Arise, and make again your own; + Snatch from the ashes of your sires + The embers of their former fires; + And he who in the strife expires + Will add to theirs a name of fear + That Tyranny shall quake to hear, + And leave his sons a hope, a fame, + They too will rather die than shame: + For Freedom's battle once begun, + Bequeathed by bleeding Sire to Son, + Though baffled oft is ever won. + Bear witness, Greece, thy living page! + Attest it many a deathless age! + While kings, in dusty darkness hid, + Have left a nameless pyramid, + Thy heroes, though the general doom + Hath swept the column from their tomb, + A mightier monument command, + The mountains of their native land! + There points thy Muse to stranger's eye + The graves of those that cannot die! + 'Twere long to tell, and sad to trace, + Each step from splendour to disgrace, + Enough--no foreign foe could quell + Thy soul, till from itself it fell; + Yes! Self-abasement paved the way + To villain-bonds and despot sway. + + + +BYRON. + + + +[Notes: _Lord Byron_, born 1788, died 1824. The most powerful English +poet of the early part of this century. + + +_Thermapylae._ The pass at which Leonidas and his Spartans resisted the +approach of the Persians (B.C. 480). + +_Salamis_. Where the Athenians fought the great naval battle which +destroyed the Persian fleet, and secured the liberties of Greece.] + + + + * * * * * + + + + + THE TEMPLE OF FAME. + + + The Temple shakes, the sounding gates unfold, + Wide vaults appear, and roofs of fretted gold, + Raised on a thousand pillars wreathed around + With laurel-foliage and with eagles crowned; + Of bright transparent beryl were the walls, + The friezes gold, and gold the capitals: + As heaven with stars, the roof with jewels glows, + And ever-living lamps depend in rows. + Full in the passage of each spacious gate + The sage historians in white garments wait: + Graved o'er their seats, the form of Time was found, + His scythe reversed, and both his pinions bound. + Within stood heroes, who through loud alarms + In bloody fields pursued renown in arms. + High on a throne, with trophies charged, I viewed + The youth that all things but himself subdued; + His feet on sceptres and tiaras trode, + And his horned head belied the Libyan god. + There Caesar, graced with both Minervas, shone; + Caesar, the world's great master, and his own; + Unmoved, superior still in every state, + And scarce detested in his country's fate. + But chief were those, who not for empire fought, + But with their toils their people's safety bought: + High o'er the rest Epaminondas stood: + Timoleon, glorious in his brother's blood: + Bold Scipio, saviour of the Roman state, + Great in his triumphs, in retirement great; + And wise Aurelius, in whose well-taught mind + With boundless power unbounded virtue joined, + His own strict judge, and patron of mankind. + Much-suffering heroes next their honours claim, + Those of less noisy and less guilty fame, + Fair Virtue's silent train: supreme of these + Here ever shines the godlike Socrates; + He whom ungrateful Athens could expel, + At all times just but when he signed the shell: + Here his abode the martyred Phocion claims, + With Agis, not the last of Spartan names: + Unconquered Cato shows the wound he tore, + And Brutus his ill Genius meets no more. + But in the centre of the hallowed choir, + Six pompous columns o'er the rest aspire; + Around the shrine itself of Fame they stand, + Hold the chief honours, and the Fane command. + High on the first the mighty Homer shone; + Eternal adamant composed his throne; + Father of verse! in holy fillets drest, + His silver beard waved gently o'er his breast: + Though blind, a boldness in his looks appears; + In years he seemed, but not impaired by years. + The wars of Troy were round the pillar seen: + Here fierce Tydides wounds the Cyprian Queen; + Here Hector glorious from Patroclus' fall, + Here dragged in triumph round the Trojan wall. + Motion and life did every part inspire, + Bold was the work, and proved the master's fire. + A strong expression most he seemed t' affect, + And here and there disclosed a brave neglect. + A golden column next in rank appeared, + On which a shrine of purest gold was reared; + Finished the whole, and laboured every part, + With patient touches of unwearied art; + The Mantuan there in sober triumph sate, + Composed his posture, and his look sedate: + On Homer still he fixed a reverent eye, + Great without pride, in modest majesty, + In living sculpture on the sides were spread + The Latian wars, and haughty Turnus dead: + Eliza stretched upon the funeral pyre, + Aeneas bending with his aged sire: + Troy flamed in burning gold, and o'er the throne + _Arms and the Man_ in golden ciphers shone. + Four swans sustain a car of silver bright, + With heads advanced, and pinions stretched for flight, + Here, like some furious prophet, Pindar rode, + And seemed to labour with the inspiring God. + Across the harp a careless hand he flings, + And boldly sinks into the sounding strings. + The figured games of Greece the column grace, + Neptune and Jove survey the rapid race. + The youths hang o'er their chariots as they run; + The fiery steeds seem starting from the stone: + The champions in distorted postures threat; + And all appeared irregularly great. + Here happy Horace tuned th' Ausonian lyre + To sweeter sounds, and tempered Pindar's fire; + Pleased with Alcaeus' manly rage t' infuse + The softer spirit of the Sapphic Muse. + The polished pillar different sculptures grace; + A work outlasting monumental brass. + Here smiling Loves and Bacchanals appear, + The Julian star, and great Augustus here: + The Doves, that round the infant Poet spread + Myrtles and bays, hang hov'ring o'er his head. + Here, in a shrine that cast a dazzling light, + Sate, fixed in thought, the mighty Stagyrite: + His sacred head a radiant zodiac crowned, + And various animals his sides surround: + His piercing eyes, erect, appear to view + Superior worlds, and look all Nature through. + With equal rays immortal Tully shone; + The Roman rostra decked the Consul's throne: + Gathering his flowing robe, he seemed to stand + In act to speak, and graceful stretched his hand. + Behind, Rome's Genius waits with civic crowns, + And the great Father of his country owns. + These massy columns in a circle rise, + O'er which a pompous dome invades the skies: + Scarce to the top I stretched my aching sight, + So large it spread, and swelled to such a height. + Full in the midst proud Fame's imperial seat + With jewels blazed magnificently great: + The vivid emeralds there revive the eye, + The flaming rubies show their sanguine dye, + Bright azure rays from lively sapphires stream, + And lucid amber casts a golden gleam, + With various coloured light the pavement shone, + And all on fire appeared the glowing throne; + The dome's high arch reflects the mingled blaze, + And forms a rainbow of alternate rays. + When on the Goddess first I cast my sight, + Scarce seemed her stature of a cubit's height; + But swelled to larger size the more I gazed, + Till to the roof her towering front she raised; + With her the Temple every moment grew, + And ampler vistas opened to my view: + Upward the columns shoot, the roofs ascend, + And arches widen, and long aisles extend, + Such was her form, as ancient Bards have told, + Wings raise her arms, and wings her feet infold; + A thousand busy tongues the Goddess bears, + A thousand open eyes, a thousand listening ears. + Beneath, in order ranged, the tuneful Nine + (Her virgin handmaids) still attend the shrine: + With eyes on Fame for ever fixed, they sing; + For Fame they raise the voice, and tune the string: + With Time's first birth began the heavenly lays, + And last eternal through the length of days. + Around these wonders, as I cast a look, + The trumpet sounded, and the temple shook, + And all the nations, summoned at the call, + From diff'rent quarters, fill the crowded hall: + Of various tongues the mingled sounds were heard; + In various garbs promiscuous throngs appeared; + Thick as the bees that with the spring renew + Their flow'ry toils, and sip the fragrant dew, + When the winged colonies first tempt the sky, + O'er dusky fields and shaded waters fly; + Or, settling, seize the sweets the blossoms yield, + And a low murmur runs along the field. + Millions of suppliant crowds the shrine attend, + And all degrees before the Goddess bend; + The poor, the rich, the valiant, and the sage, + And boasting youth, and narrative old age. + Their pleas were diff'rent, their request the same: + For good and bad alike are fond of Fame. + Some she disgraced, and some with honours crowned; + Unlike successes equal merits found. + Thus her blind sister, fickle Fortune, reigns, + And, undiscerning, scatters crowns and chains. + First at the shrine the Learned world appear, + And to the Goddess thus prefer their pray'r: + "Long have we sought t' instruct and please mankind, + With studies pale, with midnight vigils blind; + But thanked by few, rewarded yet by none. + We here appeal to thy superior throne: + On wit and learning the just prize bestow, + For fame is all we must expect below." + The Goddess heard, and bade the Muses raise + The golden Trumpet of eternal Praise: + From pole to pole the winds diffuse the sound + That fills the circuit of the world around. + Not all at once, as thunder breaks the cloud: + The notes, at first, were rather sweet than loud. + By just degrees they ev'ry moment rise, + Fill the wide earth, and gain upon the skies. + At ev'ry breath were balmy odours shed, + Which still grew sweeter as they wider spread; + Less fragrant scents th' unfolding rose exhales, + Or spices breathing in Arabian gales. + Next these, the good and just, an awful train, + Thus, on their knees, address the sacred fane: + "Since living virtue is with envy cursed, + And the best men are treated like the worst, + Do thou, just Goddess, call our merits forth, + And give each deed th' exact intrinsic worth." + "Not with bare justice shall your act be crowned," + (Said Fame,) "but high above desert renowned: + Let fuller notes th' applauding world amaze, + And the loud clarion labour in your praise." + This band dismissed, behold another crowd + Preferred the same request, and lowly bowed; + The constant tenour of whose well-spent days + No less deserved a just return of praise. + But straight the direful Trump of Slander sounds; + Through the big dome the doubling thunder bounds; + Loud as the burst of cannon rends the skies, + The dire report through ev'ry region flies; + In ev'ry ear incessant rumours rung, + And gath'ring scandals grew on ev'ry tongue. + From the black trumpet's rusty concave broke + Sulphureous flames, and clouds of rolling smoke; + The pois'nous vapour blots the purple skies, + And withers all before it as it flies. + A troop came next, who crowns and armour wore, + And proud defiance in their looks they bore: + "For thee" (they cried), "amidst alarms and strife, + We sailed in tempests down the stream of life; + For thee whole nations filled with flames and blood, + And swam to empire through the purple flood. + Those ills we dared, thy inspiration own; + What virtue seemed was done for thee alone." + "Ambitious fools!" (the Queen replied, and frowned): + "Be all your acts in dark oblivion drowned; + There sleep forgot, with mighty tyrants gone, + Your statues mouldered, and your names unknown!" + A sudden cloud straight snatched them from my sight, + And each majestic phantom sunk in night. + Then came the smallest tribe I yet had seen; + Plain was their dress, and modest was their mien. + "Great idol of mankind! we neither claim + The praise of merit, nor aspire to fame! + But safe, in deserts, from the applause of men, + Would die unheard-of, as we lived unseen. + 'Tis all we beg thee, to conceal from sight + Those acts of goodness, which themselves requite. + O let us still the secret joy partake, + To follow virtue ev'n for virtue's sake." + "And live there men who slight immortal fame? + Who, then, with incense shall adore our name? + But, mortals! know, 'tis still our greatest pride + To blaze those virtues which the good would hide. + Rise! Muses, rise! add all your tuneful breath; + These must not sleep in darkness and in death," + She said: in air the trembling music floats, + And on the winds triumphant swell the notes: + So soft, though high; so loud, and yet so clear; + Ev'n list'ning angels leaned from heaven to hear: + To farthest shores th' ambrosial spirit flies, + Sweet to the world, and grateful to the skies. + + + +Pope. + + + +[Notes: _Alexander Pope_. (See previous note on Pope.) The hint of this +poem is taken from one by Chaucer, called 'The House of Fame.' + + +_Depend in rows. Depend_ in its proper and literal meaning, "hang down." + + +_The youth that all things but himself subdued_ = Alexander the Great +(356-323 B.C.). + + +_His feet on sceptres and tiaras trod. Tiaras_, in reference to his +conquests over the Asiatic monarchies. + + +_His horned head belied the Libyan god_. "The desire to be thought the +son of Jupiter Ammon caused him to wear the horns of that god, and to +represent the same upon his coins." _(Pope's note_.) Libyan = African. + + +_Caesar graced with both Minervas, i.e.,_ by warlike and literary +genius; as the conqueror of Gaul and the writer of the 'Commentaries.' + + +_Scarce detested in his country's fate_. Whom even the enslaving of his +country scarce makes us detest. + +_Epaminondas_ (died 362 B.C.), the maintainer of Theban independence. + + +_Timoleon_, of Corinth, who slew his brother when he found him aspiring +to be tyrant in the state (died 337 B.C.). + + +_Scipio_. The conqueror of Carthage, which was long the rival of Rome. + + +_Aurelius, i.e.,_ Marcus Aurelius Antoninus (121-180 A.D.), Emperor of +Rome; one of the brightest characters in Roman history. + + +_Socrates_. The great Greek philosopher, who, in maintaining truth, +incurred the charge of infecting the young men of Athens with impiety, +and was put to death by being made to drink hemlock. His life and +teaching are known to us through the writings of his disciple, Plato. + + +_He whom ungrateful Athens_, &c., i.e., Aristides (see page 171), +distinguished by the surname of _The Just_. He was unjust, Pope means, +only when he signed the shell for his own condemnation. + + +_Phocion_. An Athenian general and statesman (402-318 B.C.), put to +death by Polysperchon. He injured rather than helped the liberties of +Athens. + + +_Agis_, "King of Sparta, who endeavoured to restore his state to +greatness by a radical agrarian reform, was after a mock trial murdered +in prison, B.C. 241." _Ward_. + + +_Cato_, who, to escape disgrace amid the evils which befell his country, +stabbed himself in 46 B.C. + + +_Brutus his ill Genius meets no more_. See the account of the Eve of +Philippi in Book IV. + + +_The wars of Troy_. Described by Homer in his Iliad. + + +_Tydides (Diomede) wounds the Cyprian Queen (Venus)_. A scene described +in the Iliad. + + +_Hector_. Slew Patroclus, the friend of Achilles, and in revenge was +dragged by him round the walls of Troy. + + +_The Mantuan_, i.e., the Roman poet Virgil, author of the Aeneid, born +at Mantua (70-19 B.C.) + + +_Eliza_ = Elissa, or Dido, whose misfortunes are described in the +Aeneid. + + +_Aeneas bending with his aged sire_. Aeneas carried his father, +Anchises, from the flames of Troy on his shoulders. + + +_Arms and the Man_. The opening words of the Aeneid. + + +_Pindar_. Of Thebes, who holds the first place among the lyric poets of +Greece. The character and subjects of his poetry, of which the portions +remaining to us are the Triumphal Odes, celebrating victories gained in +the great games of Greece, are indicated by the lines that follow. + + +_Happy Horace_ (65-8 B.C.). The epithet is used to describe the +lightsome and genial tone of Horace's poetry. _Ausonian lyre_ = Italian +song. Ausonia is a poetical name for Italy. + + +_Alcoeus and Sappho_. Two of the early lyric poets of Greece. + + +_A work outlasting monumental brass_. This line is suggested by one of +Horace, when he describes his work as "a monument more lasting than +brass." + + +_The Julian star, and great Augustus here_. Referring to the Imperial +house and its representative, Augustus, Horace's chief patron. + + +_Stagyrite_. Aristotle, the great philosopher of Greece (384-322 B.C.), +born at Stagira. Pope here shortens the second syllable by a poetical +licence. + + +_Tully_. Marcus Tullius Cicero, the great orator, statesman, and writer +of Rome. For saving the city from the conspiracy of Catiline, he was +honoured with the title of "Father of his country." + + +_Narrative old age_. Talkative old age. + + +_Unlike successes equal merits found_ = The same desert found now +success, now failure.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +LABRADOR. + + +The following narrative is from the periodical account of the Moravian +Missions. It contains some of the most impressive descriptions I ever +remember to have read. + +Brother Samuel Liebiseh was at the time of this occurrence entrusted +with the general care of the brethren's missions on the coast of +Labrador. The duties of his office required a visit to Okkak, the most +northern of our settlements, and about one hundred and fifty English +miles distant from Nain, the place where he resided. Brother William +Turner being appointed to accompany him, they left Nain together on +March the 11th, 1782, early in the morning, with very clear weather, +the stars shining with uncommon lustre. The sledge was driven by the +baptised Esquimaux Mark, and another sledge with Esquimaux joined +company. + +An Esquimaux sledge is drawn by a species of dogs, not unlike a wolf in +shape. Like them, they never bark, but howl disagreeably. They are kept +by the Esquimaux in greater or larger packs or teams, in proportion to +the affluence of the master. They quietly submit to be harnessed for +their work, and are treated with little mercy by the heathen Esquimaux, +who make them do hard duty for the small quantity of food they allow +them. This consists chiefly in offal, old skins, entrails, such parts of +whale-flesh as are unfit for other use, rotten whale-fins, &c.; and if +they are not provided with this kind of dog's meat, they leave them to +go and seek dead fish or muscles upon the beach. + +When pinched with hunger they will swallow almost anything, and on a +journey it is necessary to secure the harness within the snow-house +over night, lest, by devouring it, they should render it impossible +to proceed in the morning. When the travellers arrive at their night +quarters, and the dogs are unharnessed, they are left to burrow on the +snow, where they please, and in the morning are sure to come at their +driver's call, when they receive some food. Their strength and speed; +even with a hungry stomach, is astonishing. In fastening them to the +sledge, care is taken not to let them go abreast. They are tied by +separate thongs, of unequal lengths, to a horizontal bar in the fore +part of the sledge; an old knowing one leads the way, running ten or +twenty paces ahead, directed by the driver's whip, which is of great +length, and can be well managed only by an Esquimaux. The other dogs +follow like a flock of sheep. If one of them receives a lash, he +generally bites his neighbour, and the bite goes round. + +To return to our travellers. The sledge contained five men, one woman, +and a child. All were in good spirits, and appearances being much in +their favour, they hoped to reach Okkak in safety in two or three days. +The track over the frozen sea was in the best possible order, and they +went with ease at the rate of six or seven miles an hour. After they +had passed the islands in the bay of Nain, they kept at a considerable +distance from the coast, both to gain the smoothest part of the ice, and +to weather the high rocky promontory of Kiglapeit. About eight o'clock +they met a sledge with Esquimaux turning in from the sea. After the +usual salutation, the Esquimaux, alighting, held some conversation, as +is their general practice, the result of which was, that some hints were +thrown out by the strange Esquimaux that it might be better to return. +However, as the missionaries saw no reason whatever for it, and only +suspected that the Esquimaux wished to enjoy the company of their +friends a little longer, they proceeded. After some time, their own +Esquimaux hinted that there was a ground swell under the ice. It was +then hardly perceptible, except on lying down and applying the ear close +to the ice, when a hollow, disagreeably grating and roaring noise was +heard, as if ascending from the abyss. The weather remained clear, +except towards the east, where a bank of light clouds appeared, +interspersed with some dark streaks. But the wind being strong from the +north-west, nothing less than a sudden change of weather was expected. +The sun had now reached its height, and there was as yet little or no +alteration in the appearance of the sky. But the motion of the sea +under the ice had grown more perceptible, so as rather to alarm the +travellers, and they began to think it prudent to keep closer to the +shore. The ice had cracks and large fissures in many places, some +of which formed chasms of one or two feet wide; but as they are not +uncommon even in its best state, and the dogs easily leap over them, the +sledge following without danger, they are only terrible to new comers. + +As soon as the sun declined towards the west, the wind increased and +rose to a storm, the bank of clouds from the east began to ascend, and +the dark streaks to put themselves in motion against the wind. The snow +was violently driven about by partial whirlwinds, both on the ice, and +from off the peaks of the high mountains, and filled the air. At the +same time the ground-swell had increased so much that its effect upon +the ice became very extraordinary and alarming. The sledges, instead of +gliding along smoothly upon an even surface, sometimes ran with violence +after the dogs, and shortly after seemed with difficulty to ascend +the rising hill; for the elasticity of so vast a body of ice, of many +leagues square, supported by a troubled sea, though in some places +three or four yards in thickness, would, in some degree, occasion an +undulatory motion not unlike that of a sheet of paper accommodating +itself to the surface of a rippling stream. Noises were now likewise +distinctly heard in many directions, like the report of cannon, owing to +the bursting of the ice at some distance. + +The Esquimaux, therefore, drove with all haste towards the shore, +intending to take up their night-quarters on the south side of the +Nivak. But as it plainly appeared that the ice would break and disperse +in the open sea, Mark advised to push forward to the north of the Nivak, +from whence he hoped the track to Okkak might still remain entire. To +this proposal the company agreed; but when the sledges approached the +coast, the prospect before them was truly terrific. The ice having +broken loose from the rocks, was forced up and down, grinding and +breaking into a thousand pieces against the precipices, with a +tremendous noise, which, added to the raging of the wind, and the snow +driving about in the air, deprived the travellers almost of the power of +hearing and seeing anything distinctly. + +To make the land at any risk was now the only hope left, but it was with +the utmost difficulty the frighted dogs could be forced forward, the +whole body of ice sinking frequently below the surface of the rocks, +then rising above it. As the only moment to land was when it gained +the level of the coast, the attempt was extremely nice and hazardous. +However, by God's mercy, it succeeded; both sledges gained the shore, +and were drawn up the beach with much difficulty. + +The travellers had hardly time to reflect with gratitude to God on their +safety, when that part of the ice from which they had just now made good +their landing burst asunder, and the water, forcing itself from below, +covered and precipitated it into the sea. In an instant, as if by a +signal given, the whole mass of ice, extending for several miles from +the coast, and as far as the eye could reach, began to burst and be +overwhelmed by the immense waves. The sight was tremendous and awfully +grand: the large fields of ice, raising themselves out of the water, +striking against each other and plunging into the deep with a violence +not to be described, and a noise like the discharge of innumerable +batteries of heavy guns. The darkness of the night, the roaring of the +wind and sea, and the dashing of the waves and ice against the rocks, +filled the travellers with sensations of awe and horror, so as almost +to deprive them of the power of utterance. They stood overwhelmed with +astonishment at their miraculous escape, and even the heathen Esquimaux +expressed gratitude to God for their deliverance. + + + +[Note: _But high above desert renowned_ = Let it be renowned high above +desert.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + + A HAPPY LIFE. + + + How happy is he born or taught, + That serveth not another's will; + Whose armour is his honest thought, + And simple truth his highest skill. + + Whose passions not his masters are; + Whose soul is still prepared for death; + Not tied unto the world with care + Of prince's ear, or vulgar breath. + + Who hath his life from rumours freed; + Whose conscience is his strong retreat: + Whose state can neither flatterers feed, + Nor ruin make oppressors great. + + Who envies none whom chance doth raise, + Or vice: who never understood + How deepest wounds are given with praise; + Nor rules of state, but rules of good. + + Who God doth late and early pray + More of his grace than gifts to lend; + And entertains the harmless day + With a well-chosen book or friend. + + This man is freed from servile bands + Of hope to rise or fear to fall; + Lord of himself, though not of lands; + And having nothing, yet hath all. + + SIR HENRY WOTTON. + + + +[Notes: _Sir Henry Wotton_ (1568-1639). A poet, ambassador, and +miscellaneous writer, in the reign of James I. + + +_Born or taught_ = whether from natural character or by training. + + +_Nor ruin make oppressors great_ = nor _his_ ruin, &c. + + +_How deepest wounds are given with praise_. How praise may only cover +some concealed injury.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + + MAN'S SERVANTS. + + + For us the winds do blow; + The earth doth rest, heaven move, and fountains flow. + Nothing we see but means our good, + As our delight, or as our treasure: + The whole is either cupboard of our food, + Or cabinet of pleasure. + + The stars have us to bed; + Night draws the curtain, which the sun withdraws; + Music and light attend our head; + All things unto our flesh are kind + In their descent and being; to our mind + In their ascent and cause. + + More servants wait on Man + Than he'll take notice of. In every path + He treads down that which doth befriend him, + When sickness makes him pale and wan. + O mighty love! Man is one world, and hath + Another to attend him. + + Since, then, My God, Thou hast + So brave a palace built, O dwell in it, + That it may dwell with Thee at last! + Till then afford us so much wit + That, as the world serves _us_, we may serve _Thee_, + And both thy servants be. + + GEORGE HERBERT. + +[Notes: _George Herbert_ (1593-1632). A clergyman of the Church of +England, the author of many religious works in prose and poetry. His +poetry is overfull of conceits, but in spite of these is eminently +graceful and rich with fancy. + + +_The stars have its to led, i.e.,_ conduct, or show us to bed. + + +_All things unto our flesh are kind, &c., i.e.,_ as they minister to the +needs of our body here below, so they minister to the mind by leading +us to think of the Higher Cause that brings them into being. The words +_descent_ and _accent_ are not to be pressed; they are rather balanced +one against the other, according to the fashion of the day.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + + VIRTUE. + + + Sweet day, so cool, so calm, so bright, + The bridal of the earth and sky, + The dew shall weep thy fall to-night; + For thou must die. + + Sweet rose, whose hue, angry and brave, + Bids the rash gazer wipe his eye, + Thy root is ever in its grave, + And thou must die. + + Sweet spring, full of sweet days and roses, + A box where sweets compacted lie, + My music shows ye have your closes, + And all must die. + + Only a sweet and virtuous soul, + Like seasoned timber, never gives; + But though the whole world turn to coal, + Then chiefly lives. + + GEORGE HERBERT. + + + +[Note:----_The bridal of the earth and sky, i.e.,_ in which all the +beauties of sky and earth are united.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + + DEATH THE CONQUEROR. + + + The glories of our blood and state + Are shadows, not substantial things; + There is no armour against fate: + Death lays his icy hand on kings: + Sceptre and crown + Must tumble down, + And in the dust be equal made + With the poor crooked scythe and spade. + + Some men with swords may reap the field, + And plant fresh laurels where they kill; + But their strong nerves at last must yield, + They tame but one another still. + Early or late + They stoop to fate, + And must give up their murmuring breath, + When they, pale captives, creep to death. + + The garlands wither on your brow, + Then boast no more your mighty deeds; + Upon death's purple altar now + See, where the victor-victim bleeds; + All heads must come + To the cold tomb, + Only the actions of the just + Smell sweet, and blossom in their dust. + + JAMES SHIRLEY. + + + +[Notes: _James Shirley_ (1594-1666). A dramatic poet. + + +_And plant fresh laurels when they kill_ = even by the death they spread +around them in war, they may win new laurel-wreaths by victory. + + +_Purple_. As stained with blood.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +GROWTH OF EUROPEAN CIVILIZATION IN THE TWELFTH CENTURY. + +Various improvements in the system of jurisprudence, and administration +of justice, occasioned a change in manners, of great importance and of +extensive effect. They gave rise to a distinction of professions; they +obliged men to cultivate different talents, and to aim at different +accomplishments, in order to qualify themselves for the various +departments and functions which became necessary in society. Among +uncivilized nations there is but one profession honourable, that of +arms. All the ingenuity and vigour of the human mind are exerted in +acquiring military skill or address. The functions of peace are few and +simple, and require no particular course of education or of study as a +preparation for discharging them. This was the state of Europe during +several centuries. Every gentleman, born a soldier, scorned any other +occupation; he was taught no science but that of war; even his exercises +and pastimes were feats of martial prowess. Nor did the judicial +character, which persons of noble birth were alone entitled to assume, +demand any degree of knowledge beyond that which such untutored soldiers +possessed. To recollect a few traditionary customs which time had +confirmed, and rendered respectable; to mark out the lists of battle +with due formality; to observe the issue of the combat; and to pronounce +whether it had been conducted according to the laws of arms, included +everything that a baron, who acted as a judge, found it necessary to +understand. + +But when the forms of legal proceedings were fixed, when the rules of +decision were committed to writing, and collected into a body, law +became a science, the knowledge of which required a regular course of +study, together with long attention to the practice of courts. Martial +and illiterate nobles had neither leisure nor inclination to undertake a +task so laborious, as well as so foreign from all the occupations which +they deemed entertaining, or suitable to their rank. They gradually +relinquished their places in courts of justice, where their ignorance +exposed them to contempt. They became, weary of attending to the +discussion of cases, which grew too intricate for them to comprehend. +Not only the judicial determination of points which were the subject of +controversy, but the conduct of all legal business and transactions, was +committed to persons trained by previous study and application to the +knowledge of law. An order of men, to whom their fellow-citizens had +daily recourse for advice, and to whom they looked up for decision in +their most important concerns, naturally acquired consideration and +influence in society. They were advanced to honours which had been +considered hitherto as the peculiar rewards of military virtue. They +were entrusted with offices of the highest dignity and most extensive +power. Thus, another profession than that of arms came to be introduced +among the laity, and was reputed honourable. The functions of civil +life were attended to. The talents requisite for discharging them were +cultivated. A new road was opened to wealth and eminence. The arts and +virtues of peace were placed in their proper rank, and received their +due recompense. + +While improvements, so important with respect to the state of society +and the administration of justice, gradually made progress in Europe, +sentiments more liberal and generous had begun to animate the nobles. +These were inspired by the spirit of chivalry, which, though considered, +commonly, as a wild institution, the effect of caprice, and the source +of extravagance, arose naturally from the state of society at that +period, and had a very serious influence in refining the manners of the +European nations. The feudal state was a state of almost perpetual war, +rapine, and anarchy, during which the weak and unarmed were exposed +to insults or injuries. The power of the sovereign was too limited to +prevent these wrongs; and the administration of justice too feeble +to redress them. The most effectual protection against violence and +oppression was often found to be that which the valour and generosity +of private persons afforded. The same spirit of enterprise which had +prompted so many gentlemen to take arms in defence of the oppressed +pilgrims in Palestine, incited others to declare themselves the patrons +and avengers of injured innocence at home. When the final reduction of +the Holy Land under the dominion of infidels put an end to these foreign +expeditions, the latter was the only employment left for the activity +and courage of adventurers. To check the insolence of overgrown +oppressors; to rescue the helpless from captivity; to protect or to +avenge women, orphans, and ecclesiastics, who could not bear arms in +their own defence; to redress wrongs, and to remove grievances, were +deemed acts of the highest prowess and merit. Valour, humanity, +courtesy, justice, honour, were the characteristic qualities of +chivalry. To these was added religion, which mingled itself with every +passion and institution during the Middle Ages, and, by infusing a large +proportion of enthusiastic zeal, gave them such force as carried them +to romantic excess. Men were trained to knighthood by a long previous +discipline; they were admitted into the order by solemnities no less +devout than pompous; every person of noble birth courted that honour; it +was deemed a distinction superior to royalty; and monarchs were proud to +receive it from the hands of private gentlemen. + +This singular institution, in which valour, gallantry, and religion, +were so strangely blended, was wonderfully adapted to the taste and +genius of martial nobles; and its effects were soon visible in their +manners. War was carried on with less ferocity, when humanity came to be +deemed the ornament of knighthood no less than courage. More gentle and +polished manners were introduced, when courtesy was recommended as the +most amiable of knightly virtues. Violence and oppression decreased, +when it was reckoned meritorious to check and to punish them. A +scrupulous adherence to truth, with the most religious attention to +fulfil every engagement, became the distinguishing characteristic of a +gentleman, because chivalry was regarded as the school of honour, and +inculcated the most delicate sensibility with respect to those points. +The admiration of these qualities, together with the high distinctions +and prerogatives conferred on knighthood in every part of Europe, +inspired persons of noble birth on some occasions with a species of +military fanaticism, and led them to extravagant enterprises. But they +deeply imprinted on their minds the principles of generosity and honour. +These were strengthened by everything that can affect the senses or +touch the heart. The wild exploits of those romantic knights who sallied +forth in quest of adventures are well known, and have been treated with +proper ridicule. The political and permanent effects of the spirit of +chivalry have been less observed. Perhaps the humanity which accompanies +all the operations of war, the refinements of gallantry, and the point +of honour, the three chief circumstances which distinguished modern from +ancient manners, may be ascribed in a great measure to this institution, +which has appeared whimsical to superficial observers, but by its +effects has proved of great benefit to mankind. The sentiments which +chivalry inspired had a wonderful influence on manners and conduct +during the twelfth, thirteenth, fourteenth, and fifteenth centuries. +They were so deeply rooted, that they continued to operate after the +vigour and reputation of the institution itself began to decline. Some +considerable transactions recorded in the following history resemble +the adventurous exploits of chivalry, rather than the well-regulated +operations of sound policy. Some of the most eminent personages, whose +characters will be delineated, were strongly tinctured with this +romantic spirit. Francis I. was ambitious to distinguish himself by all +the qualities of an accomplished knight, and endeavoured to imitate the +enterprising genius of chivalry in war, as well as its pomp and courtesy +during peace. The fame which the French monarch acquired by these +splendid actions, so far dazzled his more temperate rival, that he +departed on some occasions from his usual prudence and moderation, and +emulated Francis in deeds of prowess or of gallantry. + +The progress of science and the cultivation of literature had +considerable effect in changing the manners of the European nations, +and introducing that civility and refinement by which they are now +distinguished. At the time when their empire was overturned, the +Romans, though they had lost that correct taste which has rendered the +productions of their ancestors standards of excellence, and models of +imitation for succeeding ages, still preserved their love of letters, +and cultivated the arts with great ardour. But rude barbarians were +so far from being struck with any admiration of these unknown +accomplishments, that they despised them. They were not arrived at that +state of society, when those faculties of the human mind which have +beauty and elegance for their objects begin to unfold themselves. They +were strangers to most of those wants and desires which are the parents +of ingenious invention; and as they did not comprehend either the merit +or utility of the Roman arts, they destroyed the monuments of them, with +an industry not inferior to that with which their posterity have since +studied to preserve or to recover them. The convulsions occasioned by +the settlement of so many unpolished tribes in the empire; the frequent +as well as violent revolutions in every kingdom which they established; +together with the interior defects in the form of government which they +introduced, banished security and leisure. They prevented the growth +of taste, or the culture of science, and kept Europe, during several +centuries, in that state of ignorance which has been already described. +But the events and institutions which I have enumerated produced great +alterations in society. As soon as their operation, in restoring liberty +and independence to one part of the community, began to be felt; as soon +as they began to communicate to all the members of society some taste +of the advantages arising from commerce, from public order, and from +personal security, the human mind became conscious of powers which it +did not formerly perceive, and fond of occupations or pursuits of which +it was formerly incapable. Towards the beginning of the twelfth century, +we discern the first symptoms of its awakening from that lethargy in +which it had been long sunk, and observe it turning with curiosity and +attention towards new objects. + + ROBERTSON. + + +[Notes: _Francis I_. (1494-1547). King of France; the contemporary of +Henry VIII. and of Charles V., Emperor of the Holy Roman Empire. The +constant rivalry and ever recurring wars between Francis and the latter, +occupy a great part of European history during the first half of the +16th century. + + +_His more temperate rival, i.e.,_ Charles V. + + +_At the time when their empire was overturned, the_ _Romans, &c._ In 410 +A.D., by the incursions of the Goths.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + + THE PASSIONS. + + (AN ODE FOR MUSIC.) + + + When Music, heavenly maid, was young, + While yet in early Greece she sung, + The Passions oft, to hear her shell, + Thronged around her magic cell, + Exulting, trembling, raging, fainting, + Possessed beyond the Muse's painting: + By turns they felt the glowing mind + Disturbed, delighted, raised, refined,-- + Till once, 'tis said, when all were fired, + Filled with fury, rapt, inspired, + From the supporting myrtles round + They snatched her instruments of sound; + And, as they oft had heard, apart, + Sweet lessons of her forceful art, + Each, for Madness ruled the hour, + Would prove his own expressive power. + + First Fear his hand, its skill to try, + Amid the chords bewildered laid, + And back recoiled, he knew not why, + E'en at the sound himself had made. + + Next Anger rushed: his eyes on fire, + In lightnings owned his secret stings; + In one rude clash he struck the lyre, + And swept with hurried hand the strings. + + With woful measures, wan Despair-- + Low sullen sounds his grief beguiled: + A solemn, strange, and mingled air, + 'Twas sad by fits, by starts 'twas wild. + + But thou, O Hope, with eyes so fair, + What was thy delighted measure? + Still it whispered promised pleasure, + And bade the lovely scenes at distance hail; + Still would her touch the scene prolong; + And from the rocks, the woods, the vale, + She called on Echo still through all the song; + And, where her sweetest theme she chose, + A soft responsive voice was heard at every close; + And hope, enchanted, smiled, and waved her golden + hair;-- + + And longer had she sung:--but, with a frown, + Revenge impatient rose: + He threw his blood-stained sword in thunder down, + And, with a withering look, + The war-denouncing trumpet took, + And blew a blast so loud and dread, + Were ne'er prophetic sounds so full of woe! + And ever and anon he beat + The doubling drum with furious heat: + + And though sometimes, each dreary pause between, + Dejected Pity at his side, + Her soul-subduing voice applied, + Yet still he kept his wild unaltered mien, + While each strained ball of sight seemed bursting from + his head. + + Thy numbers, Jealousy, to nought were fixed; + Sad proof of thy distressful state! + Of differing themes the veering song was mixed; + And now it courted Love, now raving called on Hate. + + With eyes upraised, as one inspired, + Pale Melancholy sat retired; + And from her wild sequestered seat, + In notes by distance made more sweet, + Poured through the mellow horn her pensive soul; + And dashing soft from rocks around, + Bubbling runnels joined the sound: + Through glades and glooms the mingled measure stole, + Or, o'er some haunted stream, with fond delay, + Round a holy calm diffusing, + Love of peace and lonely musing,-- + In hollow murmurs died away. + + But oh, how altered was its sprightlier tone! + When Cheerfulness, a nymph of healthiest hue, + Her bow across her shoulder flung, + Her buskins gemmed with morning dew, + Blew an inspiring air, that dale and thicket rung, + The hunter's call to Faun and Dryad known! + The oak-crowned Sisters and their chaste-eyed Queen, + Satyrs and Sylvan boys, were seen + Peeping from forth their alleys green. + Brown Exercise rejoiced to hear, + And Sport leaped up, and seized his beechen spear. + + Last came Joy's ecstatic trial; + He, with viny crown advancing, + First to the lively pipe his hand addressed; + But soon he saw the brisk awakening viol + Whose sweet entrancing voice he loved the best: + They would have thought, who heard the strain, + They saw in Tempe's vale her native maids, + Amidst the festal-sounding shades, + To some unwearied minstrel dancing; + While, as his flying fingers kissed the strings, + Love framed with Mirth a gay fantastic round; + Loose were her tresses seen, her zone unbound; + And he, amidst his frolic play, + As if he would the charming air repay, + Shook thousand odours from his dewy wings. + + O Music! sphere-descended maid, + Friend of Pleasure, Wisdom's aid! + Why, goddess, why, to us denied, + Lay'st thou thy ancient lyre aside? + As in that loved, Athenian bower + You learned an all-commanding power. + Thy mimic soul; O nymph endeared! + Can well recall what then it heard. + Where is thy native simple heart + Devote to Virtue, Fancy, Art? + Arise, as in that elder time, + Warm, energetic, chaste, sublime! + Thy wonders in that god-like age, + Fill thy recording Sister's page;-- + 'Tis said, and I believe the tale, + Thy humblest reed could more prevail, + Had more of strength, diviner rage, + Than all which charms this laggard age, + E'en all at once together found + Cecilia's mingled world of sound;-- + O bid our vain endeavours cease: + Revive the just designs of Greece: + Return in all thy simple state! + Confirm the tales her sons relate! + + COLLINS. + + + +[Notes: _William Collins_ (1720-1756). A poet, who throughout life +struggled with adversity, and who, though he produced little, refined +everything he wrote with a most fastidious taste and with elaborate +care. + + + _Shell_, according to a fashion common with the poets of the +first half of the 18th century, stands for lyre. The Latin word +_testudo_, a shell is often so used. + + +_Possessed beyond the Muse's painting_ = enthralled beyond what poetry +can describe. + + +_His own expressive power, i.e.,_ his power to express his own feelings. + + +_In lightnings owned his secret stings_ = in lightning-like touches +confessed the hidden fury which inspired him. + + +_Veering song_. The ever-changeful song. + + +_Her wild sequestered seat_. Sequestered properly is used of something +which, being in dispute, is deposited in a third person's hands: hence +of something set apart or in retirement. + + +_Round a holy calm diffusing_ = diffusing around a holy calm. + + +_Buskin_. A boot reaching above the ankle. _Gemmed_ = sparkling as with +gems. + + +Faun and Dryad_. Creatures with whom ancient mythology peopled the +woods. + + +_Their chaste-eyed Queen_ = Diana. + + +_Brown exercise_. Exercise is here personified and represented as brown +and sunburnt. + + +_Viol_. A stringed musical instrument. + + +_In Tempe's vale_. In Thessaly, especially connected with the worship of +Apollo, the god of poetry and music. + + +_Sphere-descended maid_. A metaphor common with the poets, and taken +from a Greek fancy most elaborately described in Plato's 'Republic,' +where the system of the universe is pictured as a series of whorls +linked in harmony. + + +_Thy mimic soul_. Thy soul apt to imitate. + + +_Devote_ = devoted. A form more close to that of the Latin participle, +from which it is derived. + + +_Thy recording Sister_ = the Muse of History. + + +_Cecilia's mingled world of sound_ = the organ. So St. Cecilia is called +in Dryden's Ode, "Inventress of the vocal frame." + + +_The just designs_ = the well-conceived, artistic designs.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +"A WHALE HUNT." + + +A tide of unusual height had carried the whale over a large bar of sand, +into the voe or creek in which he was now lying. So soon as he found the +water ebbing, he became sensible of his danger, and had made desperate +efforts to get over the shallow water, where the waves broke on the bar +but hitherto he had rather injured than mended his condition, having got +himself partly aground, and lying therefore particularly exposed to the +meditated attack. At this moment the enemy came down upon him. The front +ranks consisted of the young and hardy, armed in the miscellaneous +manner we have described; while, to witness and animate their efforts, +the young women, and the elderly persons of both sexes, took their place +among the rocks, which overhung the scene of action. + +As the boats had to double a little headland, ere they opened the mouth +of the voe, those who came by land to the shores of the inlet had time +to make the necessary reconnaissances upon the force and situation of +the enemy, on whom they were about to commence a simultaneous attack by +land and sea. + +This duty, the stout-hearted and experienced general--for so the Udaller +might be termed--would entrust to no eyes but his own; and, indeed, his +external appearance, and his sage conduct, rendered him alike qualified +for the command which he enjoyed. His gold-laced hat was exchanged for a +bearskin cap, his suit of blue broadcloth, with its scarlet lining, and +loops, and frogs of bullion, had given place to a red flannel jacket, +with buttons of black horn, over which he wore a seal-skin shirt +curiously seamed and plaited on the bosom, such as are used by the +Esquimaux, and sometimes by the Greenland whale-fishers. Sea-boots of +a formidable size completed his dress, and in his hand he held a large +whaling-knife, which he brandished, as if impatient to employ it in the +operation of _flinching_ the huge animal which lay before them,--that +is, the act of separating its flesh from its bones. Upon closer +examination, however, he was obliged to confess that the sport to which +he had conducted his friends, however much it corresponded with the +magnificent scale of his hospitality, was likely to be attended with its +own peculiar dangers and difficulties. + +The animal, upwards of sixty feet in length, was lying perfectly still, +in a deep part of the voe into which it had weltered, and where it +seemed to await the return of tide, of which it was probably assured by +instinct. A council of experienced harpooners was instantly called, and +it was agreed that an effort should be made to noose the tail of this +torpid leviathan, by casting a cable around it, to be made fast by +anchors to the shore, and thus to secure against his escape, in case the +tide should make before they were able to dispatch him. Three boats were +destined to this delicate piece of service, one of which the Udaller +himself proposed to command, while Cleveland and Mertoun were to direct +the two others. This being decided, they sat down on the strand, waiting +with impatience until the naval part of the force should arrive in the +voe. It was during this interval, that Triptolemus Yellowley, after +measuring with his eyes the extraordinary size of the whale, observed, +that in his poor mind, "A wain[1] with six owsen,[2] or with sixty owsen +either, if they were the owsen of the country, could not drag siccan[3] +a huge creature from the water, where it was now lying, to the +sea-beach." + +Trifling as this remark may seem to the reader, it was connected with a +subject which always fired the blood of the old Udaller, who, glancing +upon Triptolemus a quick and stern look, asked him what it signified, +supposing a hundred oxen could not drag the whale upon the beach? Mr. +Yellowley, though not much liking the tone with which the question was +put, felt that his dignity and his profit compelled him to answer as +follows:--"Nay, sir; you know yourself, Master Magnus Troil, and every +one knows that knows anything, that whales of siccan size as may not be +masterfully dragged on shore by the instrumentality of one wain with six +owsen, are the right and property of the Admiral, who is at this time +the same noble lord who is, moreover, Chamberlain of these isles." + +"And I tell you, Mr. Triptolemus Yellowley," said the Udaller, "as I +would tell your master if he were here, that every man who risks his +life to bring that fish ashore, shall have an equal and partition, +according to our ancient and lovable Norse custom and wont; nay, if +there is so much as a woman looking on, that will but touch the cable, +she will be partner with us. All shall share that lend a hand, and never +a one else. So you, Master Factor, shall be busy as well as other folk, +and think yourself lucky to share like other folk. Jump into that boat" +(for the boats had by this time pulled round the headland), "and you, my +lads, make way for the factor in the stern-sheets--he shall be the first +man this day that shall strike the fish." + +The three boats destined for this perilous service now approached the +dark mass, which lay like an islet in the deepest part of the voe, +and suffered them to approach without showing any sign of animation. +Silently, and with such precaution as the extreme delicacy of the +operation required, the intrepid adventurers, after the failure of their +first attempt, and the expenditure of considerable time, succeeded in +casting a cable around the body of the torpid monster, and in carrying +the ends of it ashore, when a hundred hands were instantly employed in +securing them. But ere this was accomplished, the tide began to make +fast, and the Udaller informed his assistants that either the fish must +be killed or at least greatly wounded ere the depth of water on the bar +was sufficient to float him; or that he was not unlikely to escape from +their joint prowess. + +"Wherefore," said he, "we must set to work, and the factor shall have +the honour to make the first throw." + +The valiant Triptolemus caught the word; and it is necessary to say that +the patience of the whale, in suffering himself to be noosed without +resistance, had abated his terrors, and very much lowered the creature +in his opinion. He protested the fish had no more wit, and scarcely more +activity, than a black snail; and, influenced by this undue contempt +of the adversary, he waited neither for a farther signal, nor a better +weapon, nor a more suitable position, but, rising in his energy, hurled +his graip with all his force against the unfortunate monster. The boats +had not yet retreated from him to the distance necessary to ensure +safety, when this injudicious commencement of the war took place. + +Magnus Troil, who had only jested with the factor, and had reserved the +launching the first spear against the whale to some much more skilful +hand, had just time to exclaim, "Mind yourselves, lads, or we are all +stamped!" when the monster, roused at once from inactivity by the blow +of the factor's missile, blew, with a noise resembling the explosion of +a steam-engine, a huge shower of water into the air, and at the same +time began to lash the waves with its tail in every direction. The boat +in which Magnus presided received the shower of brine which the animal +spouted aloft; and the adventurous Triptolemus, who had a full share of +the immersion, was so much astonished and terrified by the consequences +of his own valorous deed, that he tumbled backwards amongst the feet of +the people, who, too busy to attend to him, were actively engaged in +getting the boat into shoal water, out of the whale's reach. Here he lay +for some minutes, trampled on by the feet of the boatmen, until they lay +on their oars to bale, when the Udaller ordered them to pull to +shore, and land this spare hand, who had commenced the fishing so +inauspiciously. + +While this was doing, the other boats had also pulled off to safer +distance, and now, from these as well as from the shore, the unfortunate +native of the deep was overwhelmed by all kinds of missiles--harpoons +and spears flew against him on all sides--guns were fired, and each +various means of annoyance plied which could excite him to exhaust his +strength in useless rage. When the animal found that he was locked in +by shallows on all sides, and became sensible, at the same time, of the +strain of the cable on his body, the convulsive efforts which he made to +escape, accompanied with sounds resembling deep and loud groans, would +have moved the compassion of all but a practised whale-fisher. The +repeated showers which he spouted into the air began now to be mingled +with blood, and the waves which surrounded him assumed the same crimson +appearance. Meantime the attempts of the assailants were redoubled; but +Mordaunt Mertoun and Cleveland, in particular, exerted themselves to the +uttermost, contending who should display most courage in approaching the +monster, so tremendous in its agonies, and should inflict the most deep +and deadly wounds upon its huge bulk. + +The contest seemed at last pretty well over; for although the animal +continued from time to time to make frantic exertions for liberty, yet +its strength appeared so much exhausted, that, even with the assistance +of the tide, which had now risen considerably, it was thought it could +scarcely extricate itself. + +Magnus gave the signal to venture nearer to the whale, calling out at +the same time, "Close in, lads, she is not half so mad now--the Factor +may look for a winter's oil for the two lamps at Harfra--pull close in, +lads." + +Ere his orders could be obeyed, the other two boats had anticipated +his purpose; and Mordaunt Mertoun, eager to distinguish himself above +Cleveland, had with the whole strength he possessed, plunged a half-pike +into the body of the animal. But the leviathan, like a nation whose +resources appear totally exhausted by previous losses and calamities, +collected his whole remaining force for an effort, which proved at once +desperate and successful. The wound, last received had probably reached +through his external defences of blubber, and attained some very +sensitive part of the system; for he roared loud, as he sent to the sky +a mingled sheet of brine and blood, and snapping the strong cable like a +twig, overset Mertoun's boat with a blow of his tail, shot himself, by +a mighty effort, over the bar, upon which the tide had now risen +considerably, and made out to sea, carrying with him a whole grove of +the implements which had been planted in his body, and leaving behind +him, on the waters, a dark red trace of his course. + + SCOTT. + + + +[Notes: [1] Waggon. + + +[2] Oxen. + + +[3] Such.] + + + + + + * * * * * + + + + + VISION OF BELSHAZZAR. + + + The King was on his throne. + The Satraps throng'd the hall: + A thousand bright lamps shone + O'er that high festival. + A thousand cups of gold, + In Judah deem'd divine-- + Jehovah's vessels hold + The godless heathen's wine! + + In that same hour and hall, + The fingers of a hand + Came forth against the wall. + And wrote as if on sand: + The fingers of a man;-- + A solitary hand + Along the letters ran, + And traced them like a wand. + + The monarch saw, and shook, + And bade no more rejoice; + All bloodless wax'd his look, + And tremulous his voice. + "Let the men of lore appear, + The wisest of the earth, + And expound the words of fear, + Which mar our royal mirth." + + Chaldea's seers are good, + But here they have no skill; + And the unknown letters stood + Untold and awful still. + And Babel's men of age + Are wise and deep in lore; + But now they were not sage, + They saw--but knew no more. + + A captive in the land, + A stranger and a youth, + He heard the king's command, + He saw that writing's truth. + The lamps around were bright, + The prophecy in view; + He read it on that night,-- + The morrow proved it true. + + "Belshazzar's grave is made, + His kingdom pass'd away, + He, in the balance weigh'd, + Is light and worthless clay; + The shroud his robe of state, + His canopy the stone; + The Mede is at his gate! + The Persian on his throne!" + + BYRON. + + + +[Notes: _Belshazzar_, the last king of Babylon, lived probably in the +6th century B.C. He was defeated by the Medes and Persians combined. + + +_Satraps_. The governors or magistrates of provinces. + + +_A thousand cups of gold_, &c. Taken in the captivity of Judah. + + +_A captive in the land_ = the Prophet Daniel.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + + YE MARINERS OF ENGLAND. + + + Ye mariners of England, + That guard our native seas, + Whose flag has braved a thousand years + The battle and the breeze! + Your glorious standard launch again, + To match another foe! + And sweep through the deep, + While the stormy winds do blow; + And the battle rages loud and long, + And the stormy winds do blow. + + The spirit of your fathers + Shall start from every wave!-- + For the deck it was their field of fame, + And ocean was their grave; + Where Blake and mighty Nelson fell, + Your manly hearts shall glow, + + As ye sweep through the deep + While the stormy winds do blow; + While the battle rages loud and long, + And the stormy winds do blow. + + Britannia needs no bulwarks, + No towers along the steep; + Her march is o'er the mountain-waves, + Her home is on the deep. + With thunders from her native oak, + She quells the floods below, + As they roar on the shore, + When the stormy winds do blow. + While the battle rages loud and long, + And the stormy winds do blow. + + The meteor flag of England + Shall yet terrific burn; + Till danger's troubled night depart, + And the star of peace return. + Then, then, ye ocean warriors! + Your song and feast shall flow + To the fame of your name, + When the storm has ceased to blow; + When the fiery fight is heard no more, + And the storm has ceased to blow. + + CAMPBELL. + + +[Notes: _Blake_. Robert Blake (1598-1657), an English admiral under +Cromwell, chiefly distinguished for his victories over the Dutch.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +A SHIPWRECK. + + +One morning I can remember well, how we watched from the Hartland Cliffs +a great barque, which came drifting and rolling in before the western +gale, while we followed her up the coast, parsons and sportsmen, farmers +and Preventive men, with the Manby's mortar lumbering behind us in a +cart, through stone gaps and track-ways, from headland to headland. The +maddening excitement of expectation as she ran wildly towards the cliffs +at our feet, and then sheered off again inexplicably;--her foremast and +bowsprit, I recollect, were gone short off by the deck; a few rags of +sail fluttered from her main and mizen. But with all straining of eyes +and glasses, we could discern no sign of man on board. Well I recollect +the mingled disappointment and admiration of the Preventive men, as a +fresh set of salvors appeared in view, in the form of a boat's crew of +Clovelly fishermen; how we watched breathlessly the little black speck +crawling and struggling up in the teeth of the gale, under the shelter +of the land, till, when the ship had rounded a point into smoother +water, she seized on her like some tiny spider on a huge unwieldy +fly; and then how one still smaller black speck showed aloft on the +main-yard, and another--and then the desperate efforts to get the +topsail set--and how we saw it tear out of their hands again, and again, +and again, and almost fancied we could hear the thunder of its flappings +above the roar of the gale, and the mountains of surf which made the +rocks ring beneath our feet;--and how we stood silent, shuddering, +expecting every moment to see whirled into the sea from the plunging +yards one of those same tiny black specks, in each one of which was a +living human soul, with sad women praying for him at home! And then how +they tried to get her head round to the wind, and disappeared instantly +in a cloud of white spray--and let her head fall back again--and jammed +it round again, and disappeared again--and at last let her drive +helplessly up the bay, while we kept pace with her along the cliffs; and +how at last, when she had been mastered and fairly taken in tow, and was +within two miles of the pier, and all hearts were merry with the +hopes of a prize which would make them rich, perhaps, for years to +come--one-third, I suppose, of the whole value of her cargo--how she +broke loose from them at the last moment, and rushed frantically in upon +those huge rocks below us, leaping great banks of slate at the blow of +each breaker, tearing off masses of ironstone which lie there to this +day to tell the tale, till she drove up high and dry against the cliff, +and lay, like an enormous stranded whale, grinding and crashing herself +to pieces against the walls of her adamantine cage. And well I recollect +the sad records of the log-book which was left on board the deserted +ship; how she had been waterlogged for weeks and weeks, buoyed up by her +timber cargo, the crew clinging in the tops, and crawling down, when +they dared, for putrid biscuit-dust and drops of water, till the water +was washed overboard and gone; and then notice after notice, "On this +day such an one died," "On this day such an one was washed away"--the +log kept up to the last, even when there was only that to tell, by the +stern business-like merchant skipper, whoever he was; and how at last, +when there was neither food nor water, the strong man's heart seemed +to have quailed, or perhaps risen, into a prayer, jotted down in the +log--"The Lord have mercy on us!"--and then a blank of several pages, +and, scribbled with a famine-shaken hand, "Remember thy Creator in the +days of thy youth;"--and so the log and the ship were left to the rats, +which covered the deck when our men boarded her. And well I remember +the last act of that tragedy; for a ship has really, as sailors feel, +a personality, almost a life and soul of her own; and as long as her +timbers hold together, all is not over. You can hardly call her a +corpse, though the human beings who inhabited her, and were her soul, +may have fled into the far eternities; and so we felt that night, as we +came down along the woodland road, with the north-west wind hurling dead +branches and showers of crisp oak-leaves about our heads; till suddenly, +as we staggered out of the wood, we came upon such a picture as it would +have baffled Correggio, or Rembrandt himself, to imitate. Under a +wall was a long tent of sails and spars, filled with Preventive men, +fishermen, Lloyd's underwriters, lying about in every variety of strange +attitude and costume; while candles, stuck in bayonet-handles in the +wall, poured out a wild glare over shaggy faces and glittering weapons, +and piles of timber, and rusty iron cable, that glowed red-hot in the +light, and then streamed up the glen towards us through the salt misty +air in long fans of light, sending fiery bars over the brown transparent +oak foliage and the sad beds of withered autumn flowers, and glorifying +the wild flakes of foam, as they rushed across the light-stream, into +troops of tiny silver angels, that vanished into the night and hid +themselves among the woods from the fierce spirit of the storm. And +then, just where the glare of the lights and watch-fires was most +brilliant, there too the black shadows of the cliff had placed the point +of intensest darkness, lightening gradually upwards right and left, +between the two great jaws of the glen, into a chaos of grey mist, where +the eye could discern no form of sea or cloud, but a perpetual shifting +and quivering as if the whole atmosphere was writhing with agony in the +clutches of the wind. + +The ship was breaking up; and we sat by her like hopeless physicians by +a deathbed-side, to watch the last struggle,--and "the effects of the +deceased." I recollect our literally warping ourselves down to the +beach, holding on by rocks and posts. There was a saddened awe-struck +silence, even upon the gentleman from Lloyd's with the pen behind his +ear. A sudden turn of the clouds let in a wild gleam of moonshine upon +the white leaping heads of the breakers, and on the pyramid of the +Black-church Rock, which stands in summer in such calm grandeur gazing +down on the smiling bay, with the white sand of Braunton and the red +cliffs of Portledge shining through its two vast arches; and against a +slab of rock on the right, for years afterwards discoloured with her +paint, lay the ship, rising slowly on every surge, to drop again with +a piteous crash as the wave fell back from the cliff, and dragged the +roaring pebbles back with it under the coming wall of foam. You have +heard of ships at the last moment crying aloud like living things in +agony? I heard it then, as the stumps of her masts rocked and reeled in +her, and every plank and joint strained and screamed with the dreadful +tension. + +A horrible image--a human being shrieking on the rack; rose up before +me at those strange semi-human cries, and would not be put away--and I +tried to turn, and yet my eyes were riveted on the black mass, which +seemed vainly to implore the help of man against the stern ministers of +the Omnipotent. + +Still she seemed to linger in the death-struggle, and we turned at last +away; when, lo! a wave, huger than all before it, rushed up the boulders +towards us. We had just time to save ourselves. A dull, thunderous +groan, as if a mountain had collapsed, rose above the roar of the +tempest; and we all turned with an instinctive knowledge of what had +happened, just in time to see the huge mass melt away into the boiling +white, and vanish for evermore. And then the very raving of the wind +seemed hushed with awe; the very breakers plunged more silently towards +the shore, with something of a sullen compunction; and as we stood and +strained our eyes into the gloom, one black plank after another crawled +up out of the darkness upon the head of the coming surge, and threw +itself at our feet like the corpse of a drowning man, too spent to +struggle more. + + CHARLES KINGSLEY. + + + + + * * * * * + + + + + A SHIPWRECK. + + + Then rose from sea to sky the wild farewell,-- + Then shrieked the timid, and stood still the brave,-- + Then some leaped overboard with dreadful yell, + As eager to anticipate their grave; + And the sea yawned around her like a hell, + And down she sucked with her the whirling wave, + Like one who grapples with his enemy, + And strives to strangle him before he die. + + And first one universal shriek there rushed, + Louder than the loud ocean, like a crash + Of echoing thunder; and then all was hushed, + Save the wild wind and the remorseless dash + Of billows; but at intervals there gushed, + Accompanied with a convulsive splash, + A solitary shriek, the bubbling cry + Of some strong swimmer in his agony. + + BYRON. + + + + + * * * * * + + + + + THE HAPPY WARRIOR. + + + Who is the happy Warrior? Who is he + That every man in arms should wish to be? + --It is the generous Spirit, who when brought + Among the tasks of real life, hath wrought + Upon the plan that pleased his boyish thought: + Whose high endeavours are an inward light + That makes the path before him always bright: + Who, with a natural instinct to discern + What knowledge can perform, is diligent to learn: + Abides by this resolve, and stops not there, + But makes his moral being his prime care; + Who, doomed to go in company with Pain, + And Fear, and Bloodshed, miserable train! + Turns his necessity to glorious gain; + In face of these doth exercise a power + Which is our human nature's highest dower; + Controls them and subdues, transmutes, bereaves + Of their bad influence, and their good receives: + By objects, which might force the soul to abate + Her feeling, rendered more compassionate; + Is placable--because occasions rise + So often that demand such sacrifice; + More skilful in self knowledge, even more pure, + As tempted more; more able to endure, + As more exposed to suffering and distress; + Thence, also, more alive to tenderness. + --Tis he whose law is reason; who depends + Upon that law as on the best of friends; + Whence, in a state where men are tempted still + To evil for a guard against worse ill, + And what in quality or act is best + Doth seldom on a right foundation rest, + He labours good on good to fix, and owes + To virtue every triumph that he knows: + --Who, if he rise to station of command, + Rises by open means; and there will stand + On honourable terms, or else retire, + And in himself possess his own desire; + Who comprehends his trust, and to the same + Keeps faithful with a singleness of aim; + And therefore does not stoop, nor lie in wait + For wealth, or honours, or for worldly state: + Whom they must follow; on whose head must fall, + Like showers of manna, if they come at all; + Whose powers shed round him in the common strife, + Or mild concerns of ordinary life, + A constant influence, a peculiar grace; + But who, if he be called upon to face + Some awful moment to which Heaven has joined + Great issues, good or bad for human kind, + Is happy as a Lover; and attired + With sudden brightness, like a Man inspired; + And, through the heat of conflict, keeps the law + In calmness made, and sees what he foresaw: + Or if an unexpected call succeed, + Come when it will, is equal to the need: + --He who, though thus endued as with a sense + And faculty for storm and turbulence, + Is yet a Soul whose master-bias leans + To homefelt pleasures and to gentle scenes; + Sweet images! which, wheresoe'er he be, + Are at his heart; and such fidelity + It is his darling passion to approve; + More brave for this, that he hath much to love:-- + 'Tis, finally, the Man, who, lifted, high, + Conspicuous object in a Nation's eye, + Or left unthought of in obscurity,-- + Who, with a toward or untoward lot, + Prosperous or adverse, to his wish or not-- + Plays, in the many games of life, that one + Where what he most doth value must be won: + Whom neither shape of danger can dismay, + Nor thought of tender happiness betray; + Who not content that former worth stand fast, + Looks forward, persevering to the last, + From well to better, daily self-surpassed: + Who, whether praise of him must walk the earth + For ever, and to noble deeds give birth, + Or he must fall, to sleep without his fame, + And leave a dead unprofitable name-- + Finds comfort in himself and in his cause; + And, while the mortal mist is gathering, draws + His breath in confidence of Heaven's applause: + This is the happy Warrior; this is he + That every Man in arms should wish to be. + + Wordsworth. + + + +[Notes: _Turns his necessity to glorious gain_. Turns the necessity +which lies on him of fellowship with pain, and fear, and bloodshed, into +glorious gain. + + +_More skilful in self knowledge, even more pure, as tempted more_. +"His self-knowledge and his purity are all the greater because of the +temptations he has had to withstand." + + +_Whose law is reason_ = whose every action is obedient to reason. + + +_In himself possess his own desire_. According to Aristotle, virtuous +activity is the highest reward the good man can attain; virtue has no +end beyond action; according to the modern proverb, "Virtue is its own +reward." + + +_More brave for this, that he hath much to love_. Here also Wordsworth +follows Aristotle in his description of the virtue of manliness. The +good man, according to Aristotle, is most brave of all in encountering +"the awful moment of great issues," in that he has the most to lose by +death. + + +_Not content that former worth stand fast_. Not content to rest on the +foundation of accomplished good and worthy deeds, solid though it be. + + +_Finds comfort in himself_. Compare: "In himself possess his own +desire."] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +THE BLACK PRINCE. + +He was the first great English captain, who showed what English soldiers +were, and what they could do against Frenchmen, and against all the +world. He was the first English Prince who showed what it was to be a +true gentleman. He was the first, but he was not the last. We have seen +how, when he died, Englishmen thought that all their hopes had died with +him. But we know that it was not so; we know that the life of a great +nation is not bound up in the life of a single man; we know that the +valour and the courtesy and the chivalry of England are not buried in +the grave of the Plantagenet Prince. It needs only a glance round the +country, to see that the high character of an English gentleman, of +which the Black Prince was the noble pattern, is still to be found +everywhere; and has since his time been spreading itself more and more +through classes, which in his time seemed incapable of reaching it. It +needs only a glance down the names of our own Cathedral (of Canterbury); +and the tablets on the walls, with their tattered flags, will tell you +in a moment that he, as he lies up there aloft, with his head resting on +his helmet, and his spurs on his feet, is but the first of a long +line of English heroes--that the brave men who fought at Sobraon and +Feroozeshah are the true descendants of those who fought at Cressy and +Poitiers. + +And not to soldiers only, but to all who are engaged in the long warfare +of life, is his conduct an example. To unite in our lives the two +qualities expressed in his motto, "High spirit" and "reverent service," +is to be, indeed, not only a true gentleman and a true soldier, but a +true Christian also. To show to all who differ from us, not only in war +but in peace, that delicate forbearance, that fear of hurting another's +feelings, that happy art of saying the right thing to the right person, +which he showed to the captive king, would indeed add a grace and a +charm to the whole course of this troublesome world, such as none can +afford to lose, whether high or low. Happy are they, who having this +gift by birth and station, use it for its highest purposes; still more +happy are they, who having it not by birth and station, have acquired +it, as it may be acquired, by Christian gentleness and Christian +charity. + +And, lastly, to act in all the various difficulties of our every-day +life, with that coolness, and calmness, and faith in a higher power than +his own, which he showed when the appalling danger of his situation +burst upon him at Poitiers, would smooth a hundred difficulties, and +ensure a hundred victories. We often think that we have no power in +ourselves, no advantages of position, to help us against our many +temptations, to overcome the many obstacles we encounter. Let us take +our stand by the Black Prince's tomb, and go back once more in thought +to the distant fields of France. A slight rise in the wild upland plain, +a steep lane through vineyards and underwood, this was all that he had, +humanly speaking, on his side; but he turned it to the utmost use of +which it could be made, and won the most glorious of battles. So, in +like manner, our advantages may be slight--hardly perceptible to any +but ourselves--let us turn them to account, and the results will be a +hundredfold; we have only to adopt the Black Prince's bold and cheering +words, when first he saw his enemies, "God is my help. I must fight them +as best I can;" adding that lofty, yet resigned and humble prayer, which +he uttered when the battle was announced to be inevitable, and which has +since become a proverb, "God defend the right." + + DEAN STANLEY'S _Memorials of Canterbury_. + + + +[Notes: _The Black Prince_. Edward, the son of Edward III, and father of +Richard II. He not only won for the English the renown of conquest, but +befriended the early efforts after liberty. His untimely death plunged +England into the evils of a long minority under his son. The one stain +on his name is his massacre of the townsfolk of Limoges. + + +"_Reverent service_," or "I serve" (Ich dien), the motto adopted by the +Black Prince from the King of Bohemia, his defeated foe. + + +_Poitiers_. His victory won over the French king, John, whom he took +prisoner (1356).] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +THE ASSEMBLY OF URI. + + +Let me ask you to follow me in spirit to the very home and birth-place +of freedom, to the land where we need not myth or fable to add aught to +the fresh and gladdening feeling with which we for the first time tread +the soil and drink the air of the immemorial democracy of Uri. It is one +of the opening days of May: it is the morning of Sunday; for men then +deem that the better the day the better the deed; they deem that the +Creator cannot be more truly honoured than in using, in His fear and in +His presence, the highest of the gifts which He has bestowed on man. But +deem not that, because the day of Christian worship is chosen for the +great yearly assembly of a Christian commonwealth, the more direct +sacred duties of the day are forgotten. Before we, in our luxurious +island, have lifted ourselves from our beds, the men of the mountains, +Catholic and Protestant alike, have already paid the morning's worship +in God's temple. They have heard the mass of the priest, or they have +listened to the sermon of the pastor, before some of us have awakened +to the fact that the morn of the holy day has come. And when I saw men +thronging the crowded church, or kneeling, for want of space within, +on the bare ground beside the open door, and when I saw them marching +thence to do the highest duties of men and citizens, I could hardly +forbear thinking of the saying of Holy Writ, that "Where the Spirit of +the Lord is, there is liberty." From the market-place of Altdorf, the +little capital of the Canton, the procession makes its way to the place +of meeting at Bozlingen. First marches the little army of the Canton, an +army whose weapons can never be used save to drive back an invader from +their land. Over their heads floats the banner, the bull's head of +Uri, the ensign which led men to victory on the fields of Sempach and +Morgarten. And before them all, on the shoulders of men clad in a garb +of ages past, are borne the famous horns, the spoils of the wild bull +of ancient days, the very horns whose blast struck such dread into the +fearless heart of Charles of Burgundy. Then, with their lictors before +them, come the magistrates of the commonwealth on horseback, the chief +magistrate, the Landammann, with his sword by his side. The people +follow the chiefs whom they have chosen to the place of meeting, a +circle in a green meadow with a pine forest rising above their heads and +a mighty spur of the mountain range facing them on the other side of the +valley. The multitude of the freemen take their seats around the chief +ruler of the commonwealth, whose term of office comes that day to an +end. The Assembly opens; a short space is first given to prayer, silent +prayer offered up by each man in the temple of God's own rearing. Then +comes the business of the day. If changes in the law are demanded, they +are then laid before the vote of the Assembly, in which each citizen +of full age has an equal vote and an equal right of speech. The yearly +magistrates have now discharged all their duties; their term of office +is at an end, the trust which has been placed in their hands falls back +into the hands of those by whom it was given, into the hands of the +sovereign people. The chief of the commonwealth, now such no longer, +leaves his seat of office, and takes his place as a simple citizen in +the ranks of his fellows. It rests with the freewill of the Assembly to +call him back to his chair of office, or to set another there in his +stead. Men who have neither looked into the history of the past, nor yet +troubled themselves to learn what happens year by year in their own +age, are fond of declaiming against the caprice and ingratitude of the +people, and of telling us that under a democratic government neither men +nor measures can remain for an hour unchanged. The witness alike of the +present and of the past is an answer to baseless theories like these. +The spirit which made democratic Athens year by year bestow her highest +offices on the patrician Periklês and the reactionary Phôkiôn, still +lives in the democracies of Switzerland. The ministers of kings, whether +despotic or constitutional, may vainly envy the sure tenure of office +which falls to the lot of those who are chosen to rule by the voice of +the people. Alike in the whole Confederation and in the single Canton, +re-election is the rule; the rejection of the outgoing magistrate is the +rare exception. The Landammann of Uri, whom his countrymen have +raised to the seat of honour, and who has done nothing to lose their +confidence, need not fear that when he has gone to the place of +meeting in the pomp of office, his place in the march homeward will be +transferred to another against his will. + + E. A. FREEMAN. + + + +[Notes: _Uri._ A Swiss canton which, early in the 14th century, united +with Unterwalden and Schwytz to form the Swiss Confederation. + + +_Sempach_ (1386) _and Morgarten_ (1315), both great victories won by the +Swiss over the Austrians. + + +----_Charles the Bold of Burgundy_ was defeated by the Swiss in 1476 at +Morat. + + +_ Periklês_. A great orator and statesman, who, in the middle of the 5th +century, B.C., guided the policy of Athens, and made her the centre of +literature, philosophy, and art. + + +_ Phôkiôn _. An Athenian statesman of the 4th century B.C., who opposed +Demosthenes in his efforts to resist Philip of Macedon. His reactionary +policy was atoned for by the uprightness of his character.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + + LIBERTY. + + + 'Tis liberty alone that gives the flower + Of fleeting life its lustre and perfume; + And we are weeds without it. All constraint, + Except what wisdom lays on evil men, + Is evil: hurts the faculties, impedes + Their progress in the road of science: blinds + The eyesight of Discovery; and begets, + In those that suffer it, a sordid mind + Bestial, a meagre intellect, unfit + To be the tenant of man's noble form. + Thee therefore still, blameworthy as thou art, + With all thy loss of empire, and though squeez'd + By public exigence, till annual food + Fails for the craving hunger of the state, + Thee I account still happy, and the chief + Among the nations, seeing thou art free, + My native nook of earth! Thy clime is rude, + Replete with vapours, and disposes much + All hearts to sadness, and none more than mine: + Thine unadult'rate manners are less soft + And plausible than social life requires, + And thou hast need of discipline and art, + To give thee what politer France receives + From nature's bounty--that humane address + And sweetness, without which no pleasure is + In converse, either starv'd by cold reserve, + Or flush'd with fierce dispute, a senseless brawl-- + Yet being free, I love thee; for the sake + Of that one feature can be well content, + Disgrac'd as thou hast been, poor as thou art, + To seek no sublunary rest beside. + But, once enslav'd, farewell! I could endure + Chains nowhere patiently; and chains at home, + Where I am free by birthright, not at all. + Then what were left of roughness in the grain + Of British natures, wanting its excuse + That it belongs to freemen, would disgust + And shock me. I should then with double pain + Feel all the rigour of thy fickle clime; + And, if I must bewail the blessing lost, + For which our Hampdens and our Sydneys bled, + I would at least bewail it under skies + Milder, among a people less austere; + In scenes, which, having never known me free, + Would not reproach me with the loss I felt. + Do I forebode impossible events, + And tremble at vain dreams? Heaven grant I may! + But the age of virtuous politics is past, + And we are deep in that of cold pretence. + Patriots are grown too shrewd to be sincere, + And we too wise to trust them. He that takes + Deep in his soft credulity the stamp + Design'd by loud declaimers on the part + Of liberty, themselves the slaves of lust, + Incurs derision for his easy faith, + And lack of knowledge, and with cause enough: + For when was public virtue to be found, + Where private was not? Can he love the whole, + Who loves no part? He be a nation's friend, + Who is in truth the friend of no man there? + Can he be strenuous in his country's cause, + Who slights the charities, for whose dear sake + That country, if at all, must be beloved? + + Cowper. + + + +[Notes: _Hampden_--_Sydney_. (See previous note on them) + + +_He that takes deep in his soft credulity, &c., i.e.,_ he that +credulously takes in the impression which demagogues, who claim to speak +on behalf of liberty, intend that he should take. + + +_Delude_. A violent torrent, displacing earth in its course. + +_Strid_. A yawning chasm between rocks. + +_The Battle of Culloden_ (1746) closed the Jacobite rebellion of 1745 by +the defeat of the Highlanders, and with it the last hopes of the Stuart +cause. The Duke of Cumberland was the leader of the Hanoverian army.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +MY WINTER GARDEN. + +No one is less inclined to depreciate that magnificent winter-garden +at the Crystal Palace: yet let me, if I choose, prefer my own; I argue +that, in the first place, it is far larger. You may drive, I hear, +through the grand one at Chatsworth for a quarter of a mile. You may +ride through mine for fifteen miles on end. I prefer, too, to any glass +roof which Sir Joseph Paxton ever planned, that dome above my head some +three miles high, of soft dappled grey and yellow cloud, through the +vast lattice-work whereof the blue sky peeps, and sheds down tender +gleams on yellow bogs, and softly rounded heather knolls, and pale chalk +ranges gleaming far away. But, above all, I glory in my evergreens. What +winter-garden can compare for them with mine? True, I have but four +kinds--Scotch fir, holly, furze, and the heath; and by way of relief to +them, only brows of brown fern, sheets of yellow bog-grass, and here and +there a leafless birch, whose purple tresses are even more lovely to my +eye than those fragrant green ones which she puts on in spring. Well: in +painting as in music, what effects are more grand than those produced +by the scientific combination, in endless new variety, of a few simple +elements? Enough for me is the one purple birch; the bright hollies +round its stem sparkling with scarlet beads; the furze-patch, rich with +its lacework of interwoven light and shade, tipped here and there with a +golden bud; the deep soft heather carpet, which invites you to lie down +and dream for hours; and behind all, the wall of red fir-stems, and the +dark fir-roof with its jagged edges a mile long, against the soft grey +sky. + +An ugly, straight-edged, monotonous fir-plantation? Well, I like it, +outside and inside. I need no saw-edge of mountain peaks to stir up +my imagination with the sense of the sublime, while I can watch the +saw-edge of those fir peaks against the red sunset. They are my Alps; +little ones, it may be: but after all, as I asked before, what is size? +A phantom of our brain; an optical delusion. Grandeur, if you will +consider wisely, consists in form, and not in size: and to the eye of +the philosopher, the curve drawn on a paper two inches long, is just as +magnificent, just as symbolic of divine mysteries and melodies, as when +embodied in the span of some cathedral roof. Have you eyes to see? Then +lie down on the grass, and look near enough to see something more of +what is to be seen; and you will find tropic jungles in every square +foot of turf; mountain cliffs and debacles at the mouth of every rabbit +burrow: dark strids, tremendous cataracts, "deep glooms and sudden +glories," in every foot-broad rill which wanders through the turf. All +is there for you to see, if you will but rid yourself of "that idol of +space;" and Nature, as everyone will tell you who has seen dissected an +insect under the microscope, is as grand and graceful in her smallest as +in her hugest forms. + +The March breeze is chilly: but I can be always warm if I like in my +winter-garden. I turn my horse's head to the red wall of fir-stems, and +leap over the furze-grown bank into my cathedral, wherein if there be +no saints, there are likewise no priestcraft and no idols; but endless +vistas of smooth red green-veined shafts holding up the warm dark roof, +lessening away into endless gloom, paved with rich brown fir-needle--a +carpet at which Nature has been at work for forty years. Red shafts, +green roof, and here and there a pane of blue sky--neither Owen Jones +nor Willement can improve upon that ecclesiastical ornamentation,--while +for incense I have the fresh healthy turpentine fragrance, far sweeter +to my nostrils than the stifling narcotic odour which fills a Roman +Catholic cathedral. There is not a breath of air within: but the breeze +sighs over the roof above in a soft whisper. I shut my eyes and listen. +Surely that is the murmur of the summer sea upon the summer sands in +Devon far away. I hear the innumerable wavelets spend themselves gently +upon the shore, and die away to rise again. And with the innumerable +wave-sighs come innumerable memories, and faces which I shall never see +again upon this earth. I will not tell even you of that, old friend. It +has two notes, two keys rather, that Eolian-harp of fir-needles above +my head; according as the wind is east or west, the needles dry or wet. +This easterly key of to-day is shriller, more cheerful, warmer in sound, +though the day itself be colder: but grander still, as well as softer, +is the sad soughing key in which the south-west wind roars on, +rain-laden, over the forest, and calls me forth--being a minute +philosopher--to catch trout in the nearest chalk-stream. + +The breeze is gone a while; and I am in perfect silence--a silence which +may be heard. Not a sound; and not a moving object; absolutely none. The +absence of animal life is solemn, startling. That ring-dove, who was +cooing half a mile away, has hushed his moan; that flock of long-tailed +titmice, which were twinging and pecking about the fir-cones a few +minutes since, are gone: and now there is not even a gnat to quiver in +the slant sun-rays. Did a spider run over these dead leaves, I almost +fancy I could hear his footfall. The creaking of the saddle, the soft +step of the mare upon the fir-needles, jar my ears. I seem alone in a +dead world. A dead world: and yet so full of life, if I had eyes to +see! Above my head every fir-needle is breathing--breathing for +ever; currents unnumbered circulate in every bough, quickened by some +undiscovered miracle; around me every fir-stem is distilling strange +juices, which no laboratory of man can make; and where my dull eye sees +only death, the eye of God sees boundless life and motion, health and +use. + + CHARLES KINGSLEY. + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +ASPECTS OF NORTHERN AND SOUTHERN COUNTRIES. + +The charts of the world which have been drawn up by modern science have +thrown into a narrow space the expression of a vast amount of knowledge, +but I have never yet seen any pictorial enough to enable the spectator +to imagine the kind of contrast in physical character which exists +between northern and southern countries. We know the differences in +detail, but we have not that broad glance or grasp which would enable us +to feel them in their fulness. We know that gentians grow on the Alps, +and olives on the Apennines; but we do not enough conceive for ourselves +that variegated mosaic of the world's surface which a bird sees in its +migration, that difference between the district of the gentian and of +the olive which the stork and the swallow see far off, as they lean upon +the sirocco wind. Let us, for a moment, try to raise ourselves even +above the level of their flight, and imagine the Mediterranean lying +beneath us like an irregular lake, and all its ancient promontories +sleeping in the sun; here and there an angry spot of thunder, a grey +stain of storm, moving upon the burning field; and here and there a +fixed wreath of white volcano smoke, surrounded by its circle of ashes; +but for the most part a great peacefulness of light, Syria and Greece, +Italy and Spain, laid like pieces of a golden pavement into the +sea-blue, chased, as we stoop nearer to them, with bossy beaten work of +mountain chains, and glowing softly with terraced gardens, and flowers +heavy with frankincense, mixed among masses of laurel and orange, and +plumy palm, that abate with their grey-green shadows the burning of the +marble rocks, and of the ledges of the porphyry sloping under lucent +sand. Then let us pass farther towards the north, until we see the +orient colours change gradually into a vast belt of rainy green, where +the pastures of Switzerland, and poplar valleys of France, and dark +forests of the Danube and Carpathians stretch from the mouths of the +Loire to those of the Volga, seen through clefts in grey swirls of +rain-cloud and flaky veils of the mist of the brooks, spreading low +along the pasture lands; and then, farther north still, to see the earth +heave into mighty masses of leaden rock and heathy moor, bordering +with a broad waste of gloomy purple that belt of field and wood, and +splintering into irregular and grisly islands amidst the northern seas +beaten by storm, and chilled by ice-drift, and tormented by furious +pulses of contending tide, until the roots of the last forests fail from +among the hill ravines, and the hunger of the north wind bites their +peaks into barrenness; and, at last, the wall of ice, durable like iron, +sets, death-like, its white teeth against us out of the polar twilight. +And, having once traversed in thought this gradation of the zoned iris +of the earth in all its material vastness, let us go down nearer to it, +and watch the parallel change in the belt of animal life: the multitudes +of swift and brilliant creatures that glance in the air and sea, or +tread the sands of the southern zone; striped zebras and spotted +leopards, glistening serpents, and birds arrayed in purple and scarlet. +Let us contrast their delicacy and brilliancy of colour, and swiftness +of motion, with the frost-cramped strength, and shaggy covering, and +dusky plumage of the northern tribes; contrast the Arabian horse with +the Shetland, the tiger and leopard with the wolf and bear, the +antelope with the elk, the bird of Paradise with the osprey; and then, +submissively acknowledging the great laws by which the earth and all +that it bears are ruled throughout their being, let us not condemn, but +rejoice in the expression by man of his own rest in the statues of the +lands that gave him birth. Let us watch him with reverence as he sets +side by side the burning gems, and smooths with soft sculpture the +jasper pillars that are to reflect a ceaseless sunshine, and rise into +a cloudless sky; but not with less reverence let us stand by him, when, +with rough strength and hurried stroke, he smites an uncouth animation +out of the rocks which he has torn from among the moss of the moor-land, +and heaves into the darkened air the pile of iron buttress and rugged +wall, instinct with work of an imagination as wild and wayward as the +northern sea; creations of ungainly shape and rigid limb, but full of +wolfish life; fierce as the winds that beat, and changeful as the clouds +that shade them. + + JOHN RUSKIN. + + + + + * * * * * + + + + + THE TROSACHS. + + + The western waves of ebbing day + Rolled o'er the glen their level way; + Each purple peak, each flinty spire, + Was bathed in floods of living fire. + But not a setting beam could glow + Within the dark ravines below, + Where twined the path, in shadow hid, + Bound many a rocky pyramid, + Shooting abruptly from the dell + Its thunder-splintered pinnacle; + Bound many an insulated mass, + The native bulwarks of the pass, + Huge as the tower which builders vain + Presumptuous piled on Shinar's plain. + The rocky summits, split and rent, + Formed turret, dome, or battlement. + Or seemed fantastically set + With cupola or minaret, + Wild crests as pagod ever decked, + Or mosque of eastern architect. + Nor were these earth-born castles bare, + Nor lacked they many a banner fair; + For, from their shivered brows displayed, + Far o'er the unfathomable glade, + All twinkling with the dew-drop's sheen, + The briar-rose fell in streamers green, + And creeping shrubs, of thousand dyes, + Waved in the west wind's summer sighs. + + Boon nature scattered, free and wild, + Each plant or flower, the mountain's child. + Here eglantine embalmed the air, + Hawthorn and hazel mingled there; + The primrose pale and violet flower, + Found in each cliff a narrow bower; + Foxglove and nightshade, side by side, + Emblems of punishment and pride, + Grouped their dark hues with every stain, + The weather-beaten crags retain. + With boughs that quaked at every breath, + Grey birch and aspen wept beneath; + Aloft the ash and warrior oak + Cast anchor in the rifted rock; + And higher yet the pine tree hung + His shatter'd trunk, and frequent flung, + Where seemed the cliffs to meet on high, + His boughs athwart the narrowed sky + Highest of all, where white peaks glanced, + Where glistening streamers waved and danced, + The wanderer's eye could barely view + The summer heaven's delicious blue; + So wondrous wild, the whole might seem + The scenery of a fairy dream. + Onward, amid the copse 'gan peep + A narrow inlet still and deep, + Affording scarce such breadth of brim, + As served the wild duck's brood to swim; + Lost for a space, through thickets veering, + But broader when again appearing, + Tall rocks and tufted knolls their face + Could on the dark blue mirror trace; + And farther as the hunter stray'd, + Still broader sweep its channels made. + The shaggy mounds no longer stood, + Emerging from entangled wood, + But, wave-encircled, seemed to float, + Like castle girdled with its moat; + Yet broader floods extending still, + Divide them from their parent hill, + Till each, retiring, claims to be + An islet in an inland sea. + + And now, to issue from the glen, + No pathway meets the wanderer's ken, + Unless he climb, with footing nice, + A far projecting precipice. + The broom's tough roots his ladder made, + The hazel saplings lent their aid; + And thus an airy point he won. + Where, gleaming with the setting sun, + One burnish'd sheet of living gold, + Loch-Katrine lay beneath him rolled; + In all her length far winding lay, + With promontory, creek, and bay, + And islands that, empurpled bright, + Floated amid the livelier light; + And mountains, that like giants stand, + To sentinel enchanted land. + High on the south, huge Benvenue + Down to the lake in masses threw + Crags, knolls, and mounds, confusedly hurled, + The fragments of an earlier world; + A wildering forest feathered o'er + His ruined sides and summit hoar. + While on the north, through middle air, + Ben-an heaved high his forehead bare. + + SCOTT. + + + + + * * * * * + + + + + LOCHIEL'S WARNING. + + + _Seer_. Lochiel! Lochiel! beware of the day + When the Lowlands shall meet thee in battle array! + For a field of the dead rushes red on my sight, + And the clans of Culloden are scattered in fight; + They rally, they bleed, for their kingdom and crown; + Wo, wo to the riders that trample them down! + Proud Cumberland prances, insulting the slain, + And their hoof-beaten bosoms are trod to the plain. + But hark! through the fast-flashing lightning of war, + What steed to the desert flies frantic and far? + 'Tis thine, O Glenullin! whose bride shall await, + Like a love-lighted watchfire, all night at the gate. + A steed comes at morning; no rider is there; + But its bridle is red with the sign of despair. + Weep, Albyn, to death and captivity led! + O weep, but thy tears cannot number the dead; + For a merciless sword on Culloden shall wave, + Culloden! that reeks with the blood of the brave. + + _Lochiel_. Go preach to the coward, thou death- + telling seer! + Or, if gory Culloden so dreadful appear, + Draw, dotard, around thy old wavering sight + This mantle, to cover the phantoms of fright. + + _Seer_. Ha! laugh'st thou, Lochiel, my vision to + scorn? + Proud bird of the mountain, thy plume shall be torn! + Say, rushed the bold eagle exultingly forth + From his home, in the dark-rolling clouds of the north? + Lo! the death-shot of foemen outspeeding, he rode + Companionless, bearing destruction abroad; + But down let him stoop from his havoc on high! + Ah! home let him speed, for the spoiler is nigh. + Why flames the far summit? Why shoot to the blast + Those embers, like stars from the firmament cast? + 'Tis the fire shower of ruin, all dreadfully driven + From his eyrie that beacons the darkness of heaven. + Oh, crested Lochiel! the peerless in might, + Whose banners arise on the battlements' height, + Heaven's fire is around thee, to blast and to burn: + Return to thy dwelling! all lonely return! + For the blackness of ashes shall mark where it stood, + And a wild mother scream o'er her famishing brood. + + _Lochiel_. False wizard, avaunt! I have marshalled my + clan-- + Their swords are a thousand, their bosoms are one! + They are true to the last of their blood and their + breath, + And like reapers descend to the harvest of death. + Then welcome be Cumberland's steed to the shock! + Let him dash his proud foam like a wave on the rock! + But we to his kindred, and we to his cause, + When Albyn her claymore indignantly draws; + When her bonneted chieftains to victory crowd, + Clanranald the dauntless, and Moray the proud; + All plaided and plumed in their tartan array---- + + _Seer_.----Lochiel! Lochiel! beware of the day! + For, dark and despairing, my sight I may seal, + But man cannot cover what God would reveal. + 'Tis the sunset of life gives me mystical lore, + And coming events cast their shadows before. + I tell thee, Culloden's dread echoes shall ring, + With the bloodhounds that bark for thy fugitive king. + Lo! anointed by heaven with the vials of wrath, + Behold, where he flies on his desolate path! + Now in darkness and billows he sweeps from my sight; + Rise! rise! ye wild tempests, and cover his flight!-- + 'Tis finished. Their thunders are hushed on the moors; + Culloden is lost, and my country deplores. + But where is the iron-bound prisoner? Where? + For the red eye of battle is shut in despair. + Say, mounts he the ocean-wave, banished, forlorn, + Like a limb from his country cast bleeding and torn? + Ah, no! for a darker departure is near,-- + The war drum is muffled, and black is the bier; + His death bell is tolling! Oh, mercy! dispel + Yon sight that it freezes my spirit to tell! + Life flutters convulsed in his quivering limbs, + And his blood-streaming nostril in agony swims; + Accursed be the faggots that blaze at his feet, + Where his heart shall be thrown, ere it ceases to beat, + With the smoke of its ashes to poison the gale---- + + _Lochiel_. Down, soothless insulter! I trust not the + tale: + For never shall Albyn a destiny meet + So black with dishonour, so foul with retreat. + Though my perishing ranks should be strewed in their + gore, + Like ocean weeds heaped on the surf-beaten shore, + Lochiel, untainted by flight or by chains, + While the kindling of life in his bosom remains, + Shall victor exult, or in death be laid low, + With his back to the field, and his feet to the foe! + And leaving in battle no blot on his name, + Look proudly to heaven from the death-bed of fame. + + CAMPBELL. + + + +[Note: _Life flutters convulsed &c._ Describes the barbarous death which +awaited the traitor according to the statute book of England, as it then +stood. This was the penalty dealt to the rebels of 1745.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +COLUMBUS IN SIGHT OF LAND. + +For three days they stood in this direction, and the further they went +the more frequent and encouraging were the signs of land. Flights of +small birds of various colours, some of them such as sing in the fields, +came flying about the ships, and then continued towards the south-west, +and others were heard also flying by in the night. Tunny fish played +about the smooth sea, and a heron, a pelican, and a duck, were seen, all +bound in the same direction. The herbage which floated by was fresh and +green, as if recently from land, and the air, Columbus observes, was +sweet and fragrant as April breezes in Seville. + +All these, however, were regarded by the crews as so many delusions +beguiling them on to destruction; and when, on the evening of the third +day, they beheld the sun go down upon a shoreless horizon, they broke +forth into turbulent clamour. They exclaimed against this obstinacy in +tempting fate by continuing on into a boundless sea. They insisted +upon turning home, and abandoning the voyage as hopeless. Columbus +endeavoured to pacify them by gentle words and promises of large +rewards; but finding that they only increased in clamour, he assumed a +decided tone. He told them it was useless to murmur; the expedition had +been sent by the sovereigns to seek the Indies, and, happen what might, +he was determined to persevere, until, by the blessing of God, he should +accomplish the enterprise. + +Columbus was now at open defiance with his crew, and his situation +became desperate. Fortunately the manifestations of the vicinity of land +were such on the following day as no longer to admit a doubt. Beside a +quantity of fresh weeds, such as grow in rivers, they saw a green fish +of a kind which keeps about rocks; then a branch of thorn with berries +on it, and recently separated from the tree, floated by them; then they +picked up a reed, a small board, and, above all, a staff artificially +carved. All gloom and mutiny now gave way to sanguine expectation; and +throughout the day each one was eagerly on the watch, in hopes of being +the first to discover the long-sought-for land. + +In the evening, when, according to invariable custom on board of the +admiral's ship, the mariners had sung the vesper hymn to the Virgin, he +made an impressive address to his crew. He pointed out the goodness +of God in thus conducting them by soft and favouring breezes across +a tranquil ocean, cheering their hopes continually with fresh signs, +increasing as their fears augmented, and thus leading and guiding them +to a promised land. He now reminded them of the orders he had given +on leaving the Canaries, that, after sailing westward seven hundred +leagues, they should not make sail after midnight. Present appearances +authorized such a precaution. He thought it probable they would make +land that very night; he ordered, therefore, a vigilant look-out to +be kept from the forecastle, promising to whomsoever should make the +discovery a doublet of velvet, in addition to the pension to be given by +the sovereigns. + +The breeze had been fresh all day, with more sea than usual, and they +had made great progress. At sunset they had stood again to the west, and +were ploughing the waves at a rapid rate, the Pinta keeping the lead +from her superior sailing. The greatest animation prevailed throughout +the ships; not an eye was closed that night. As the evening darkened, +Columbus took his station on the top of the castle or cabin on the +high poop of his vessel, ranging his eye along the dusky horizon, and +maintaining an intense and unremitting watch. About ten o'clock he +thought he beheld a light glimmering at a great distance. Fearing his +eager hopes might deceive him, he called to Pedro Gutierrez, gentleman +of the king's bedchamber, and inquired whether he saw such a light: the +latter replied in the affirmative. Doubtful whether it might not be some +delusion of the fancy, Columbus called Rodrigo Sanchez of Segovia, +and made the same inquiry. By the time the latter had ascended the +round-house, the light had disappeared. They saw it once or twice +afterwards in sudden and passing gleams, as if it were a torch in the +bark of a fisherman, rising and sinking with the waves, or in the hand +of some person on shore, borne up and down as he walked from house to +house. So transient and uncertain were these gleams, that few attached +any importance to them; Columbus, however, considered them as certain +signs of land, and, moreover, that the land was inhabited. + +They continued their course until two in the morning, when a gun from +the Pinta gave the joyful signal of land. It was first descried by a +mariner named Rodrigo de Triana; but the reward was afterwards adjudged +to the admiral, for having previously perceived the light. The land was +now clearly seen about two leagues distant, whereupon they took in sail, +and laid to, waiting impatiently for the dawn. + +The thoughts and feelings of Columbus in this little space of time +must have been tumultuous and intense. At length, in spite of every +difficulty and danger, he had accomplished his object. The great mystery +of the ocean was revealed; his theory, which had been the scoff of +sages, was triumphantly established; he had secured to himself a glory +durable as the world itself. + +It is difficult to conceive the feelings of such a man, at such a +moment, or the conjectures which must have thronged upon his mind, as +to the land before him, covered with darkness. That it was fruitful was +evident from the vegetables which floated from its shores. He thought, +too, that he perceived the fragrance of aromatic groves. The moving +light he had beheld proved it the residence of man. But what were its +inhabitants? Were they like those of the other parts of the globe, or +were they some strange and monstrous race, such as the imagination was +prone in those times to give to all remote and unknown regions? Had he +come upon some wild island far in the Indian Sea, or was this the +famed Cipango itself, the object of his golden fancies? A thousand +speculations of the kind must have swarmed upon him, as, with his +anxious crews, he waited for the night to pass away; wondering whether +the morning light would reveal a savage wilderness, or dawn upon spicy +groves, and glittering fanes, and gilded cities, and all the splendour +of oriental civilization. + +It was on Friday morning, the 12th of October, that Columbus first +beheld the New World. As the day dawned he saw before him a level +island, several leagues in extent, and covered with trees like a +continual orchard. Though apparently uncultivated, it was populous, +for the inhabitants were seen issuing from all parts of the woods and +running to the shore. They were perfectly naked, and, as they stood +gazing at the ships, appeared by their attitudes and gestures to be lost +in astonishment. Columbus made signal for the ships to cast anchor, +and the boats to be manned and armed. He entered his own boat, richly +attired in scarlet, and holding the royal standard; whilst Martin Alonzo +Pinzon, and Vincent Yañez his brother, put off in company in their +boats, each with a banner of the enterprize emblazoned with a green +cross, having on either side the letters F. and Y., the initials of the +Castilian monarchs Fernando and Ysabel, surmounted by crowns. + +As he approached the shore, Columbus, who was disposed for all kinds of +agreeable impressions, was delighted with the purity and suavity of the +atmosphere, the crystal transparency of the sea, and the extraordinary +beauty of the vegetation. He beheld, also, fruits of an unknown kind +upon the trees which overhung the shores. On landing he threw himself on +his knees, kissed the earth, and returned thanks to God with tears +of joy. His example was followed by the rest, whose hearts indeed +overflowed with the same feelings of gratitude, Columbus then rising, +drew his sword, displayed the royal standard, and assembling round him +the two captains, with Rodrigo de Escobedo, notary of the armament, +Rodrigo Sanchez, and the rest who had landed, he took solemn possession +in the name of the Castilian sovereigns, giving the island the name of +San Salvador. Having complied with the requisite forms and ceremonies, +he called upon all present to take the oath of obedience to him, as +admiral and viceroy, representing the persons of the sovereigns. + +The feelings of the crew now burst forth in the most extravagant +transports. They had recently considered themselves devoted men, +hurrying forward to destruction; they now looked upon themselves as +favourites of fortune, and gave themselves up to the most unbounded joy. +They thronged around the admiral with overflowing zeal, some embracing +him, others kissing his hands. Those who had been most mutinous and +turbulent during the voyage, were now most devoted and enthusiastic. +Some begged favours of him, as if he had already wealth and honours in +his gift. Many abject spirits, who had outraged him by their insolence, +now crouched at his feet, begging pardon for all the trouble they had +caused him, and promising the blindest obedience for the future. + + WASHINGTON IRVING. + + + +[Notes: _Columbus_. Christopher Columbus of Genoa (born 1430, died +1506), the discoverer of America. His first expedition was made in 1492. + + +"_The reward was afterwards adjudged to the admiral_." This has often +been alleged, and apparently with considerable reason, as a stain upon +the name of Columbus.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +COLUMBUS SHIPWRECKED. + + +On the morning of the 24th of December, Columbus set sail from Port St. +Thomas before sunrise, and steered to the eastward, with an intention of +anchoring at the harbour of the cacique Guacanagari. The wind was from +the land, but so light as scarcely to fill the sails, and the ships made +but little progress. At eleven o'clock at night, being Christmas eve, +they were within a league or a league and a half of the residence of the +cacique; and Columbus, who had hitherto kept watch, finding the sea calm +and smooth, and the ship almost motionless, retired to rest, not having +slept the preceding night. He was, in general, extremely wakeful on his +coasting voyages, passing whole nights upon deck in all weathers; never +trusting to the watchfulness of others where there was any difficulty or +danger to be provided against. In the present instance he felt perfectly +secure; not merely on account of profound calm, but because the boats on +the preceding day, in their visit to the cacique, had reconnoitred the +coast, and had reported that there were neither rocks nor shoals in +their course. + +No sooner had he retired, than the steersman gave the helm in charge to +one of the ship-boys, and went to sleep. This was in direct violation +of an invariable order of the admiral, that the helm should never be +intrusted to the boys. The rest of the mariners who had the watch took +like advantage of the absence of Columbus, and in a little while +the whole crew was buried in sleep. In the meantime the treacherous +currents, which run swiftly along this coast, carried the vessel +quietly, but with force, upon a sand-bank. The heedless boy had not +noticed the breakers, although they made a roaring that might have been +heard a league. No sooner, however, did he feel the rudder strike, +and hear the tumult of the rushing sea, than he began to cry for +aid. Columbus, whose careful thoughts never permitted him to sleep +profoundly, was the first on deck. The master of the ship, whose duty it +was to have been on watch, next made his appearance, followed by others +of the crew, half awake. The admiral ordered them to take the boat and +carry out an anchor astern, to warp the vessel off. The master and the +sailors sprang into the boat; but, confused as men are apt to be when +suddenly awakened by an alarm, instead of obeying the commands of +Columbus, they rowed off to the other caravel, about half a league to +windward. + +In the meantime the master had reached the caravel, and made known the +perilous state in which he had left the vessel. He was reproached with +his pusillanimous desertion; the commander of the caravel manned his +boat and hastened to the relief of the admiral, followed by the recreant +master, covered with shame and confusion. + +It was too late to save the ship, the current having set her more upon +the bank. The admiral, seeing that his boat had deserted him, that the +ship had swung across the stream, and that the water was continually +gaining upon her, ordered the mast to be cut away, in the hope of +lightening her sufficiently to float her off. Every effort was in vain. +The keel was firmly bedded in the sand; the shock had opened several +seams; while the swell of the breakers, striking her broadside, left +her each moment more and more aground, until she fell over on one side. +Fortunately the weather continued calm, otherwise the ship must have +gone to pieces, and the whole crew might have perished amidst the +currents and breakers. + +The admiral and her men took refuge on board the caravel. Diego de +Arana, chief judge of the armament, and Pedro Gutierrez, the king's +butler, were immediately sent on shore as envoys to the cacique +Guaeanagari, to inform him of the intended visit of the admiral, and of +his disastrous shipwreck. In the meantime, as a light wind had sprung up +from shore, and the admiral was ignorant of his situation, and of the +rocks and banks that might be lurking around him, he lay to until +daylight. + +The habitation of the cacique was about a league and a half from the +wreck. When he heard of the misfortune of his guest, he manifested the +utmost affliction, and even shed tears. He immediately sent all his +people, with all the canoes, large and small, that could be mustered; +and so active were they in their assistance, that in a little while +the vessel was unloaded. The cacique himself, and his brothers and +relatives, rendered all the aid in their power, both on sea and land; +keeping vigilant guard that everything should be conducted with order, +and the property secured from injury or theft. From time to time, he +sent some one of his family, or some principal person of his attendants, +to console and cheer the admiral, assuring him that everything he +possessed should be at his disposal. + +Never, in a civilized country, were the vaunted rites of hospitality +more scrupulously observed, than by this uncultivated savage. All the +effects landed from the ships were deposited near his dwelling; and an +armed guard surrounded them all night, until houses could be prepared +in which to store them. There seemed, however, even among the common +people, no disposition to take advantage of the misfortune of the +stranger. Although they beheld what must in their eyes have been +inestimable treasures, cast, as it were, upon their shores, and open +to depredation, yet there was not the least attempt to pilfer, nor, in +transporting the effects from the ships, had they appropriated the most +trifling article. On the contrary, a general sympathy was visible in +their countenances and actions; and to have witnessed their concern, one +would have supposed the misfortune to have happened to themselves. + +"So loving, so tractable, so peaceable are these people," says Columbus +in his journal, "that I swear to your Majesties, there is not in the +world a better nation, nor a better land. They love their neighbours +as themselves; and their discourse is ever sweet and gentle, and +accompanied with a smile; and though it is true that they are naked, yet +their manners are decorous and praiseworthy." + + WASHINGTON IRVING. + + + +[Note: _Cacique_. The chief of an Indian tribe. The word was adopted by +the Spaniards from the language of the natives of San Domingo. + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +ROBBED IN THE DESERT. + + +I departed from Kooma, accompanied by two shepherds, who were going +towards Sibidooloo. The road was very steep and rocky, and as my horse +had hurt his feet much, he travelled slowly and with great difficulty; +for in many places the ascent was so sharp, and the declivities so +great, that if he had made one false step, he must inevitably have been +dashed to pieces. The herds being anxious to proceed, gave themselves +little trouble about me or my horse, and kept walking on at a +considerable distance. It was about eleven o'clock, as I stopped to +drink a little water at a rivulet (my companions being near a quarter of +a mile before me), that I heard some people calling to each other, +and presently a loud screaming, as from a person in great distress. I +immediately conjectured that a lion had taken one of the shepherds, and +mounted my horse to have a better view of what had happened. The noise, +however, ceased; and I rode slowly towards the place from whence I +thought it proceeded, calling out, but without receiving any answer. In +a little time, however, I perceived one of the shepherds lying among the +long grass near the road; and, though I could see no blood upon him, +concluded he was dead. But when I came close to him, he whispered to +me to stop, telling me that a party of armed men had seized upon his +companion, and shot two arrows at himself as he was making his escape. +I stopped to consider what course to take, and looking round, saw at a +little distance a man sitting upon the stump of a tree; I distinguished +also the heads of six or seven more; sitting among the grass, with +muskets in their hands. I had now no hopes of escaping, and therefore +determined to ride forward towards them. As I approached them, I was +in hopes they were elephant hunters, and by way of opening the +conversation, inquired if they had shot anything; but, without returning +an answer, one of them ordered me to dismount; and then, as if +recollecting himself, waved with his hand for me to proceed. I +accordingly rode past, and had with some difficulty crossed a deep +rivulet, when I heard somebody holloa; and looking back, saw those I +took for elephant hunters now running after me, and calling out to me to +turn back. I stopped until they were all come up, when they informed me +that the King of the Foulahs had sent them on purpose to bring me, +my horse, and everything that belonged to me, to Fooladoo, and that +therefore I must turn back, and go along with them. Without hesitating a +moment, I turned round and followed them, and we travelled together near +a quarter of a mile without exchanging a word. When coming to a dark +place of the wood, one of them said, in the Mandingo language, "This +place will do," and immediately snatched my hat from my head. Though +I was by no means free of apprehension, yet I resolved to show as few +signs of fear as possible; and therefore told them, unless my hat was +returned to me, I should go no farther. But before I had time to receive +an answer, another drew his knife, and seizing upon a metal button which +remained upon my waistcoat, cut it off, and put it in his pocket. Their +intention was now obvious, and I thought that the more easily they were +permitted to rob me of everything, the less I had to fear. I therefore +allowed them to search my pockets without resistance, and examine every +part of my apparel, which they did with scrupulous exactness. But +observing that I had one waistcoat under another, they insisted that I +should cast them both off; and at last, to make sure work, stripped me +quite naked. Even my half-boots (though the sole of one of them was tied +to my foot with a broken bridle-rein) were narrowly inspected. Whilst +they were examining the plunder, I begged them with great earnestness to +return my pocket compass; but when I pointed it out to them, as it was +lying on the ground, one of the banditti thinking I was about to take it +up, cocked his musket, and swore that he would lay me dead on the spot +if I presumed to lay my hand on it. After this some of them went away +with my horse, and the remainder stood considering whether they should +leave me quite naked, or allow me something to shelter me from the sun. +Humanity at last prevailed; they returned me the worst of the two shirts +and a pair of trowsers; and, as they went away, one of them threw back +my hat, in the crown of which I kept my memorandums; and this was +probably the reason they did not wish to keep it. After they were +gone, I sat for some time looking around me with amazement and terror; +whichever way I turned, nothing appeared but danger and difficulty. I +saw myself in the midst of a vast wilderness in the depth of the rainy +season, naked and alone, surrounded by savage animals, and men still +more savage. I was five hundred miles from the nearest European +settlement. All these circumstances crowded at once to my recollection; +and I confess that my spirits began to fail me. I considered my fate as +certain, and that I had no alternative but to lie down and perish. At +this moment, painful as my reflections were, the extraordinary beauty +of a small moss irresistibly caught my eye. I mention this to show from +what trifling circumstances the mind will sometimes derive consolation; +for though the whole plant was not larger than the tip of one of my +fingers, I could not contemplate the delicate conformation of its roots, +leaves, and capsule without admiration. Can that Being (thought I), who +planted, watered, and brought to perfection, in this obscure part of the +world, a thing which appears of so small importance, look with unconcern +upon the situation and sufferings of creatures formed after his own +image?--surely not! Reflections like these would not allow me to +despair; I started up, and disregarding both hunger and fatigue, +travelled forwards, assured that relief was at hand; and I was not +disappointed. In a short time I came to a small village, at the entrance +of which I overtook the two shepherds who had come with me from Rooma. +They were much surprised to see me, for they said they never doubted +that the Foulahs, when they had robbed, had murdered me. Departing from +this village, we travelled over several rocky ridges, and at sunset +arrived at Sibidooloo, the frontier town of the kingdom of Manding. + + MUNGO PARK. + + + +[Note: _Mungo Park_. Born in Selkirkshire in 1771; set out on his first +African exploration in 1795. His object was to explore the Niger; and +this he had done to a great extent when he was murdered (as is supposed) +by the natives in 1805.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + + REST FROM BATTLE. + + + Now deep in ocean sunk the lamp of light, + And drew behind the cloudy veil of night; + The conquering Trojans mourn his beams decayed; + The Greeks rejoicing bless the friendly shade. + The victors keep the field: and Hector calls + A martial council near the navy walls: + These to Scamander's bank apart he led, + Where thinly scattered lay the heaps of dead. + The assembled chiefs, descending on the ground, + Attend his order, and their prince surround. + A massy spear he bore of mighty strength, + Of full ten cubits was the lance's length; + The point was brass, refulgent to behold, + Fixed to the wood with circling rings of gold: + The noble Hector on his lance reclined, + And bending forward, thus revealed his mind: + "Ye valiant Trojans, with attention hear! + Ye Dardan bands, and generous aids, give ear! + This day, we hoped, would wrap in conquering flame + Greece with her ships, and crown our toils with fame. + But darkness now, to save the cowards, falls, + And guards them trembling in their wooden walls. + Obey the night, and use her peaceful hours, + Our steeds to forage, and refresh our powers. + Straight from the town be sheep and oxen sought, + And strengthening bread and generous wine be brought. + Wide o'er the field, high blazing to the sky, + Let numerous fires the absent sun supply, + The flaming piles with plenteous fuel raise, + Till the bright morn her purple beam displays; + Lest, in the silence and the shades of night, + Greece on her sable ships attempt her flight. + Not unmolested let the wretches gain + Their lofty decks, or safely cleave the main: + Some hostile wound let every dart bestow, + Some lasting token of the Phrygian foe: + Wounds, that long hence may ask their spouses' care, + And warn their children from a Trojan war. + Now, through the circuit of our Ilion wall, + Let sacred heralds sound the solemn call; + To bid the sires with hoary honours crowned, + And beardless youths, our battlements surround. + Firm be the guard, while distant lie our powers, + And let the matrons hang with lights the towers: + Lest, under covert of the midnight shade, + The insidious foe the naked town invade. + Suffice, to-night, these orders to obey; + A nobler charge shall rouse the dawning day. + The gods, I trust, shall give to Hector's hand, + From these detested foes to free the land, + Who ploughed, with fates averse, the watery way; + For Trojan vultures a predestined prey. + Our common safety must be now the care; + But soon as morning paints the fields of air, + Sheathed in bright arms let every troop engage, + And the fired fleet behold the battle rage. + Then, then shall Hector and Tydides prove, + Whose fates are heaviest in the scale of Jove. + To-morrow's light (O haste the glorious morn!) + Shall see his bloody spoils in triumph borne, + With this keen javelin shall his breast be gored, + And prostrate heroes bleed around their lord. + Certain as this, oh! might my days endure, + From age inglorious, and black death secure; + So might my life and glory know no bound, + Like Pallas worshipped, like the sun renowned! + As the next dawn, the last they shall enjoy, + Shall crush the Greeks, and end the woes of Troy." + + The leader spoke. From all his host around + Shouts of applause along the shores resound. + Each from the yoke the smoking steeds untied, + And fixed their headstalls to his chariot-side. + Fat sheep and oxen from the town are led, + With generous wine, and all-sustaining bread. + Full hecatombs lay burning on the shore; + The winds to heaven the curling vapours bore; + Ungrateful offering to the immortal powers! + Whose wrath hung heavy o'er the Trojan towers; + Nor Priam nor his sons obtained their grace; + Proud Troy they hated, and her guilty race. + The troops exulting sat in order round, + And beaming fires illumined all the ground. + As when the moon, refulgent lamp of night! + O'er heaven's clear azure spreads her sacred light, + When not a breath disturbs the deep serene, + And not a cloud o'ercasts the solemn scene; + Around her throne the vivid planets roll, + And stars unnumbered gild the glowing pole; + O'er the dark trees a yellower verdure shed, + And tip with silver every mountain's head. + Then shine the vales, the rocks in prospect rise, + A flood of glory bursts from all the skies: + The conscious swains, rejoicing in the sight, + Eye the blue vault, and bless the useful light. + So many flames before proud Ilion blaze, + And lighten glimmering Xanthus with their rays: + The long reflections of the distant fires + Gleam on the walls, and tremble on the spires. + A thousand piles the dusky horrors gild, + And shoot a shady lustre o'er the field. + Full fifty guards each flaming pile attend, + Whose umbered arms, by fits, thick flashes send, + Loud neigh the coursers o'er their heaps of corn, + And ardent warriors wait the rising morn. + + POPE. + + + +[Notes:_Rest from battle_. This is part of Pope's translation of the +Iliad of Homer (Book 8, l. 605). + + +_Stamander_. One of the rivers in the neighbourhood of Troy. + + +_Dardan bands_. Trojan lands. Dardanus was the mythical ancestor of the +Trojans. + +_Generous aids_ = allies. + + +_Tydides_--Diomede. + +_From age inglorious and black death secure_ = safe from inglorious age +and from black death. + + +_Hecatombs_. Sacrifices of 100 oxen. + + +_Ungrateful offering_ = unpleasing offering. + + +_Xanthus_. The other river in the neighbourhood of Troy. + + +_Umbered_ = thrown into shadow, and glimmering in the darkness.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +ARISTIDES. + + +Aristides at first was loved and respected for his surname of _the +Just_, and afterwards envied as much; the latter, chiefly by the +management of Themistocles, who gave it out among the people that +Aristides had abolished the courts of judicature, by drawing the +arbitration of all causes to himself, and so was insensibly gaining +sovereign power, though without guards and the other ensigns of it. The +people, elevated with the late victory at Marathon, thought themselves +capable of everything, and the highest respect little enough for them. +Uneasy, therefore, at finding any one citizen rose to such extraordinary +honour and distinction, they assembled at Athens from all the towns in +Attica, and banished Aristides by the Ostracism; disguising their +envy of his character under the specious pretence of guarding against +tyranny. + +For the _Ostracism_ was not a punishment for crimes and misdemeanours, +but was very decently called an humbling and lessening of some excessive +influence and power. In reality it was a mild gratification of envy; for +by this means, whoever was offended at the growing greatness of another, +discharged his spleen, not in anything cruel or inhuman, but only in +voting a ten years' banishment. But when it once began to fall upon +mean and profligate persons, it was for ever after entirely laid aside; +Hyperbolus being the last that was exiled by it. + +The reason of its turning upon such a wretch was this. Alcibiades and +Nicias, who were persons of the greatest interest in Athens, had each +his party; but perceiving that the people were going to proceed to +the Ostracism, and that one of them was likely to suffer by it, they +consulted together, and joining interests, caused it to fall upon +Hyperbolus. Hereupon the people, full of indignation at finding this +kind of punishment dishonoured and turned into ridicule, abolished it +entirely. + +The Ostracism (to give a summary account of it) was conducted in the +following manner. Every citizen took a piece of a broken pot, or a +shell, on which he wrote the name of the person he wanted to have +banished, and carried it to a part of the market-place that was enclosed +with wooden rails. The magistrates then counted the number of the +shells; and if it amounted not to six thousand, the Ostracism stood for +nothing: if it did, they sorted the shells, and the person whose name +was found on the greatest number, was declared an exile for ten years, +but with permission to enjoy his estate. + +At the time that Aristides was banished, when the people were inscribing +the names on the shells, it is reported that an illiterate burgher came +to Aristides, whom he took for some ordinary person, and, giving him his +shell, desired him to write Aristides upon it. The good man, surprised +at the adventure, asked him "Whether Aristides had ever injured him?" +"No," said he, "nor do I even know him; but it vexes me to hear him +everywhere called _the Just_." Aristides made no answer, but took the +shell, and having written his own name upon it, returned it to the man. +When he quitted Athens, he lifted up his hands towards heaven, and, +agreeably to his character, made a prayer, very different from that of +Achilles; namely, "That the people of Athens might never see the day +which should force them to remember Aristides." + + _Plutarch's Lives_. + + + +[Notes: _Aristides_. A prominent citizen of Athens (about the year 490 +B.C.) opposed to the more advanced policy of Themistocles, who wished to +make the city rely entirely upon her naval power. He was ostracised in +489, but afterwards restored. + + +_Marathon_. The victory gained over the Persian invaders, 490 B.C.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +THE VENERABLE BEDE. + +Baeda--the venerable Bede as later times styled him--was born about ten +years after the Synod of Whitby, beneath the shade of a great abbey +which Benedict Biscop was rearing by the mouth of the Wear. His youth +was trained and his long tranquil life was wholly spent in an offshoot +of Benedict's house which was founded by his scholar Ceolfrid. +Baeda never stirred from Jarrow. "I spent my whole life in the same +monastery," he says, "and while attentive to the rule of my order and +the service of the Church, my constant pleasure lay in learning, or +teaching, or writing." The words sketch for us a scholar's life, the +more touching in its simplicity that it is the life of the first great +English scholar. The quiet grandeur of a life consecrated to knowledge, +the tranquil pleasure that lies in learning and teaching and writing, +dawned for Englishmen in the story of Baeda. While still young, he +became teacher, and six hundred monks, besides strangers that flocked +thither for instruction, formed his school of Jarrow. It is hard to +imagine how, among the toils of the schoolmaster and the duties of the +monk, Baeda could have found time for the composition of the numerous +works that made his name famous in the West. But materials for study had +accumulated in Northumbria through the journeys of Wilfrith and Benedict +Biscop, and Archbishop Eegberht was forming the first English library at +York. The tradition of the older Irish teachers still lingered to direct +the young scholar into that path of scriptural interpretation to which +he chiefly owed his fame. Greek, a rare accomplishment in the West, +came to him from the school which the Greek Archbishop Theodore founded +beneath the walls of Canterbury. His skill in the ecclesiastical chaunt +was derived from a Roman cantor whom Pope Vilalian sent in the train of +Benedict Biscop. Little by little the young scholar thus made himself +master of the whole range of the science of his time; he became, +as Burke rightly styled him, "the father of English learning." The +tradition of the older classic culture was first revived for England +in his quotations of Plato and Aristotle, of Seneca and Cicero, of +Lucretius and Ovid. Virgil cast over him the same spell that he cast +over Dante; verses from the. Aeneid break his narratives of martyrdoms, +and the disciple ventures on the track of the great master in a little +eclogue descriptive of the approach of spring. His work was done with +small aid from others. "I am my own secretary," he writes; "I make my +own notes. I am my own librarian." But forty-five works remained after +his death to attest his prodigious industry. In his own eyes and +those of his contemporaries, the most important among these were the +commentaries and homilies upon various books of the Bible which he had +drawn from the writings of the Fathers. But he was far from confining +himself to theology. In treatises compiled as text-books for his +scholars, Baeda threw together all that the world had then accumulated +in astronomy and meteorology, in physics and music, in philosophy, +grammar, rhetoric, arithmetic, medicine. But the encyclopaedic character +of his researches left him in heart a simple Englishman. He loved his +own English tongue, he was skilled in English song, his last work was a +translation into English of the gospel of St. John, and almost the last +words that broke from his lips were some English rhymes upon death. + +But the noblest proof of his love of England lies in the work which +immortalizes his name. In his 'Ecclesiastical History of the English +Nation,' Baeda was at once the founder of medieval history and the first +English historian. All that we really know of the century and a half +that follows the landing of Augustine, we know from him. Wherever his +own personal observation extended, the story is told with admirable +detail and force. He is hardly less full or accurate in the portions +which he owed to his Kentish friends, Alewine and Nothelm. What he owed +to no informant was his own exquisite faculty of story-telling, and yet +no story of his own telling is so touching as the story of his death. +Two weeks before the Easter of 735 the old man was seized with an +extreme weakness and loss of breath. He still preserved, however, his +usual pleasantness and gay good-humour, and in spite of prolonged +sleeplessness continued his lectures to the pupils about him. Verses +of his own English tongue broke from time to time from the master's +lip--rude rhymes that told how before the "need-fare," Death's stern +"must-go," none can enough bethink him what is to be his doom for good +or ill. The tears of Baeda's scholars mingled with his song. "We never +read without weeping," writes one of then. So the days rolled on to +Ascension-tide, and still master and pupils toiled at their work, for +Baeda longed to bring to an end his version of St. John's Gospel into +the English tongue, and his extracts from Bishop Isidore. "I don't want +my boys to read a lie," he answered those who would have had him +rest, "or to work to no purpose, after I am gone." A few days before +Ascension-tide his sickness grew upon him, but he spent the whole day in +teaching, only saying cheerfully to his scholars, "Learn with what speed +you may; I know not how long I may last." The dawn broke on another +sleepless night, and again the old man called his scholars round him and +bade them write. "There is still a chapter wanting," said the scribe, as +the morning drew on, "and it is hard for thee to question thyself any +longer." "It is easily done," said Baeda; "take thy pen and write +quickly." Amid tears and farewells the day wore on to eventide. "There +is yet one sentence unwritten, dear master," said the boy. "Write it +quickly," bade the dying man. "It is finished now," said the little +scribe at last. "You speak truth," said the master; "all is finished +now." Placed upon the pavement, his head supported in his scholar's +arms, his face turned to the spot where he was wont to pray, Baeda +chaunted the solemn "Glory to God." As his voice reached the close of +his song, he passed quietly away. + + J. R. GREEN. + + + +[Note: _Baeda_. The father of literature and learning in England +(656-735 A.D.).] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +THE DEATH OF ANSELM. + + +Anselm's life was drawing to its close. The re-enactment and +confirmation by the authority of the great Whitsuntide Assembly of the +canons of the Synod of London against clerical marriage, and a dispute +with two of the Northern bishops--his old friend Ralph Flambard, and the +archbishop-elect of York, who, apparently reckoning on Anselm's age and +bad health, was scheming to evade the odious obligation of acknowledging +the paramount claims of the see of Canterbury--were all that marked the +last year of his life. A little more than a year before his own death, +he had to bury his old and faithful friend--a friend first in the +cloister of Bee, and then in the troubled days of his English +primacy--the great builder, Gundulf, Bishop of Rochester. Anselm's last +days shall be told in the words of one who had the best right to record +the end of him whom he had loved so simply and so loyally--his attendant +Eadmer. + +"During these events (of the last two years of his life) he wrote a +treatise 'Concerning the Agreement of Foreknowledge, Predestination, and +the Grace of God, with Free Will,' in which contrary to his wont, he +found difficulty in composition; for after his illness at Bury St. +Edmund's, as long as he was spared to this life, he was weaker than +before; so that, when he was moving from place to place, he was from +that time carried in a litter, instead of riding on horseback. He was +tried, also, by frequent and sharp sicknesses, so that we scarce dared +promise him life. He, however, never left off his old way of living, but +was always engaged in godly meditations, or holy exhortations, or other +good work. + +"In the third year after King Henry had recalled him from his second +banishment, every kind of food by which nature is sustained became +loathsome to him. He used to eat, however, putting force on himself, +knowing that he could not live without food; and in this way he somehow +or another dragged on life through half a year, gradually failing day by +day in body, though in vigour of mind he was still the same as he used +to be. So being strong in spirit, though but very feeble in the flesh, +he could not go to his oratory on foot; but from his strong desire to +attend the consecration of the Lord's body, which he venerated with a +special feeling of devotion, he caused himself to be carried thither +every day in a chair. We who attended on him tried to prevail on him to +desist, because it fatigued him so much; but we succeeded, and that with +difficulty, only four days before he died. + +"From that time he took to his bed? and, with gasping breath, continued +to exhort all who had the privilege of drawing near him to live to God, +each in his own order. Palm Sunday had dawned, and we, as usual, were +sitting round him; one of us said to him, 'Lord father, we are given to +understand that you are going to leave the world for your Lord's Easter +court.' He answered, 'If His will be so, I shall gladly obey His will. +But if He willed rather that I should yet remain amongst you, at least +till I have solved a question which I am turning in my mind, about the +origin of the soul, I should receive it thankfully, for I know not +whether any one will finish it after I am gone. Indeed, I hope, that if +I could take food, I might yet get well. For I feel no pain anywhere; +only, from weakness of my stomach, which cannot take food, I am failing +altogether.' + +"On the following Tuesday, towards evening, he was no longer able to +speak intelligibly. Ralph, Bishop of Rochester, asked him to bestow +his absolution and blessing on us who were present, and on his other +children, and also on the king and queen with their children, and the +people of the land who had kept themselves under God in his obedience. +He raised his right hand, as if he was suffering nothing, and made the +sign of the Holy Cross; and then dropped his head and sank down. The +congregation of the brethren were already chanting matins in the great +church, when one of those who watched about our father the book of the +Gospels and read before him the history of the Passion, which was to be +read that day at the mass. But when he came to our Lord's words, 'Ye are +they which have continued with me in my temptations, and I appoint unto +you a kingdom, as my Father hath appointed unto me, that ye may eat and +drink at my table,' he began to draw his breath more slowly. We saw +that he was just going, so he was removed from his bed, and laid upon +sackcloth and ashes. And thus, the whole family of his children being +collected round him, he gave up his last breath into the hands of his +Creator, and slept in peace." + + DEAN CHURCH. + + + +[Note:_Anselm_. An Italian by birth (1033-1109), was Abbot of Bee, in +Normandy, and afterwards Archbishop of Canterbury, in both succeeding +his countryman Lanfranc. He was famous as a scholastic philosopher; and, +as a Churchman, he struggled long for the liberties of the Church with +William II. and Henry I.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +THE MURDER OF BECKET. + + +The vespers had already begun, and the monks were singing the service in +the choir, when two boys rushed up the nave, announcing, more by their +terrified gestures than by their words, that the soldiers were bursting +into the palace and monastery. Instantly the service was thrown into the +utmost confusion; part remained at prayer, part fled into the numerous +hiding-places the vast fabric affords; and part went down the steps of +the choir into the transept to meet the little band at the door. "Come +in, come in!" exclaimed one of them; "Come in, and let us die together." +The Archbishop continued to stand outside, and said, "Go and finish the +service. So long as you keep in the entrance, I shall not come in." They +fell back a few paces, and he stepped within the door, but, finding the +whole place thronged with people, he paused on the threshold, and asked, +"What is it that these people fear?" One general answer broke forth, +"The armed men in the cloister." As he turned and said, "I shall go out +to them," he heard the clash of arms behind. The knights had just forced +their way into the cloister, and were now (as would appear from their +being thus seen through the open door) advancing along its southern +side. They were in mail, which covered their faces up to their eyes, and +carried their swords drawn. Three had hatchets. Fitzurse, with the axe +he had taken from the carpenters, was foremost, shouting as he came, +"Here, here, king's men!" Immediately behind him followed Robert +Fitzranulph, with three other knights, and a motley group--some their +own followers, some from the town--with weapons, though not in armour, +brought up the rear. At this sight, so unwonted in the peaceful +cloisters of Canterbury, not probably beheld since the time when the +monastery had been sacked by the Danes, the monks within, regardless +of all remonstrances, shut the door of the cathedral, and proceeded +to barricade it with iron bars. A loud knocking was heard from the +terrified band without, who having vainly endeavoured to prevent the +entrance of the knights into the cloister, now rushed before them to +take refuge in the church. Becket, who had stepped some paces into the +cathedral, but was resisting the solicitations of those immediately +about him to move up into the choir for safety, darted back, calling +aloud as he went, "Away, you cowards! By virtue of your obedience I +command you not to shut the door--the church must not be turned into a +castle." With his own hands he thrust them away from the door, opened it +himself, and catching hold of the excluded monks, dragged them into the +building, exclaiming, "Come in, come in--faster, faster!" + + * * * * * + +The knights, who had been checked for a moment by the sight of the +closed door, on seeing it unexpectedly thrown open, rushed into the +church. It was, we must remember, about five o'clock in a winter +evening; the shades of night were gathering, and were deepened into +a still darker gloom within the high and massive walls of the vast +cathedral, which was only illuminated here and there by the solitary +lamps burning before the altars. The twilight, lengthening from the +shortest day a fortnight before, was but just sufficient to reveal the +outline of objects. + + * * * * * + +In the dim twilight they could just discern a group of figures mounting +the steps of the eastern staircase. One of the knights called out to +them, "Stay." Another, "Where is Thomas Becket, traitor to the King?" +No answer was returned. None could have been expected by any one who +remembered the indignant silence with which Becket had swept by when the +same words had been applied by Randulf of Broc at Northampton. Fitzurse +rushed forward, and, stumbling against one of the monks on the lower +step, still not able to distinguish clearly in the darkness, exclaimed, +"Where is the Archbishop?" Instantly the answer came: "Reginald, here I +am, no traitor, but the archbishop and priest of God; what do you wish?" +and from the fourth step, which he had reached in his ascent, with a +slight motion of his head--noticed apparently as his peculiar manner in +moments of excitement--Becket descended to the transept. Attired, we +are told, in his white rochet, with a cloak and hood thrown over his +shoulders, he thus suddenly confronted his assailants. Fitzurse sprang +back two or three paces, and Becket passing by him took up his station +between the central pillar and the massive wall which still forms the +south-west corner of what was then the chapel of St. Benedict. Here they +gathered round him, with the cry, "Absolve the bishops whom you have +excommunicated." "I cannot do other than I have done," he replied, and +turning to Fitzurse, he added, "Reginald, you have received many favours +at my hands; why do you come into my church armed?" Fitzurse planted the +axe against his breast, and returned for answer, "You shall die--I will +tear out your heart." Another, perhaps in kindness, struck him between +the shoulders with the flat of his sword, exclaiming, "Fly; you are a +dead man." "I am ready to die," replied the primate, "for God and the +Church; but I warn you, I curse you in the name of God Almighty, if you +do not let my men escape." + +The well-known horror which in that age was felt at an act of sacrilege, +together with the sight of the crowds who were rushing in from the town +through the nave, turned their efforts for the next few moments to +carrying him out of the church. Fitzurse threw down the axe, and tried +to drag him out by the collar of his long cloak, calling, "Come with +us--you are our prisoner." "I will not fly, you detestable fellow," was +Becket's reply, roused to his usual vehemence, and wrenching the cloak +out of Fitzurse's grasp. The three knights struggled violently to put +him on Tracy's shoulders. Becket set his back against the pillar, and +resisted with all his might, whilst Grim, vehemently remonstrating, +threw his arms around him to aid his efforts. In the scuffle, Becket +fastened upon Tracy, shook him by his coat of mail, and exerting his +great strength, flung him down on the pavement. It was hopeless to carry +on the attempt to remove him. And in the final struggle which now began, +Fitzurse, as before, took the lead. He approached with his drawn sword, +and waving it over his head, cried, "Strike, strike!" but merely dashed +off his cap. Tracy sprang forward and struck a more decided blow. + + * * * * * + +The blood from the first blow was trickling down his face in a thin +streak; he wiped it with his arm, and when he saw the stain, he said, +"Into thy hands, O Lord, I commend my spirit." At the third blow, he +sank on his knees--his arms falling, but his hands still joined as if +in prayer. With his face turned towards the altar of St. Benedict, he +murmured in a low voice, "For the name of Jesus, and the defence of the +Church, I am willing to die." Without moving hand or foot, he fell fiat +on his face as he spoke, and with such dignity that his mantle, which +extended from head to foot, was not disarranged. In this posture he +received a tremendous blow, aimed with such violence that the scalp or +crown of the head was severed from the skull, and the sword snapped in +two on the marble pavement. Hugh of Horsea planted his foot on the neck +of the corpse, thrust his sword into the ghastly wound, and scattered +the brains over the pavement. "Let us go--let us go," he said, in +conclusion, "the traitor is dead; he will rise no more." + + DEAN STANLEY. + + + +[Note: _Thomas Becket_ (1119-1170). Chancellor and afterwards Archbishop +of Canterbury under Henry II.; maintained a heroic, though perhaps +ambitious and undesirable struggle with that king for the independence +of the clergy; and ended his life by assassination at the hands of +certain of Henry's servants.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +THE DEATH OF ELIZABETH + +The triumph of her lieutenant, Mountjoy, flung its lustre over the last +days of Elizabeth, but no outer triumph could break the gloom which +gathered round the dying queen. Lonely as she had always been, her +loneliness deepened as she drew towards the grave. The statesmen and +warriors of her earlier days had dropped one by one from her council +board; and their successors were watching her last moments, and +intriguing for favour in the coming reign. The old splendour of her +court waned and disappeared. Only officials remained about her, "the +other of the council and nobility estrange themselves by all occasions." +As she passed along in her progresses, the people, whose applause she +courted, remained cold and silent. The temper of the age, in fact, was +changing and isolating her as it changed. Her own England, the England +which had grown up around her, serious, moral, prosaic, shrank coldly +from this child of earth, and the renascence, brilliant, fanciful, +unscrupulous, irreligious. She had enjoyed life as the men of her day +enjoyed it, and now that they were gone she clung to it with a fierce +tenacity. She hunted, she danced, she jested with her young favourites, +she coquetted, and scolded, and frolicked at sixty-seven as she had +done at thirty. "The queen," wrote a courtier, a few months before her +death, "was never so gallant these many years, nor so set upon jollity." +She persisted, in spite of opposition, in her gorgeous progresses from +country-house to country-house. She clung to business as of old, and +rated in her usual fashion, "one who minded not to giving up some matter +of account." But death crept on. Her face became haggard, and her frame +shrank almost to a skeleton. At last, her taste for finery disappeared, +and she refused to change her dresses for a week together. A strange +melancholy settled down on her: "she held in her hand," says one who saw +her in her last days, "a golden cup, which she often put to her lips: +but in truth her heart seemed too full to need more filling." Gradually +her mind gave way. She lost her memory, the violence of her temper +became unbearable, her very courage seemed to forsake her. She called +for a sword to lie constantly beside her, and thrust it from time to +time through the arras, as if she heard murderers stirring there. Food +and rest became alike distasteful. She sate day and night propped up +with pillows on a stool, her finger on her lip, her eyes fixed on the +floor, without a word. If she once broke the silence, it was with a +flash of her old queenliness. Cecil asserted that she "must" go to bed, +and the word roused her like a trumpet. "Must!" she exclaimed; "is +_must_ a word to be addressed to princes? Little man, little man! thy +father, if he had been alive, durst not have used that word." Then, as +her anger spent itself, she sank into her old dejection. "Thou art so +presumptuous," she said, "because thou knowest I shall die." She rallied +once more when the ministers beside her bed named Lord Beauchamp, the +heir to the Suffolk claim, as a possible successor. "I will have no +rogue's son," she cried hoarsely, "in my seat." But she gave no sign, +save a motion of the head, at the mention of the King of Scots. She was +in fact fast becoming insensible; and early the next morning the life +of Elizabeth, a life so great, so strange and lonely in its greatness, +passed quietly away. + + J.R. GREEN. + + + +[Notes: _Mountjoy_. The Queen's lieutenant in Ireland, who had had +considerable success in dealing with the Irish rebels. + + +_This chill of ... the renascence._ In her irreligion, as well as in +her brilliancy and fancy, Elizabeth might fitly be called the child +or product of the Pagan renascence or new birth, as the return to the +freedom of classic literature, so powerful in the England of her day, +was called. + + +_Thy father_ = the great Lord Burghley, who guided the counsels of the +Queen throughout all the earlier part of her reign. + + +_The Suffolk claim, i.e.,_ the claim derived from Mary, the sister of +Henry VIII., who married Charles Brandon, Duke of Suffolk. James, who +succeeded Elizabeth, was descended from the elder sister, Margaret, +married to James IV. of Scotland.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + + THE SAXON AND THE GAEL. + + + So toilsome was the road to trace, + The guide, abating of his pace, + Led slowly through the pass's jaws, + And ask'd Fitz-James by what strange cause + He sought these wilds? traversed by few, + Without a pass from Roderick Dhu. + "Brave Gael, my pass, in danger tried, + Hangs in my belt, and by my side; + Yet sooth to tell," the Saxon said, + "I dreamed not now to claim its aid. + When here but three days since, I came, + Bewildered in pursuit of game, + All seemed as peaceful and as still + As the mist slumbering on yon hill: + Thy dangerous chief was then afar, + Nor soon expected back from war." + "But, Stranger, peaceful since you came, + Bewildered in the mountain game, + Whence the bold boast by which you show + Vich-Alpine's vowed and mortal foe?" + "Warrior, but yester-morn, I knew + Nought of thy Chieftain, Roderick Dhu, + Save as an outlaw'd desperate man, + The chief of a rebellious clan, + Who in the Regent's court and sight, + With ruffian dagger stabbed a knight; + Yet this alone might from his part + Sever each true and loyal heart." + Wrathful at such arraignment foul, + Dark lowered the clansman's sable scowl. + A space he paused, then sternly said,-- + "And heard'st thou why he drew his blade? + Heards't thou that shameful word and blow + Brought Roderick's vengeance on his foe? + What reck'd the Chieftain if he stood + On Highland-heath, or Holy-Rood? + He rights such wrong where it is given, + If it were in the court of heaven." + "Still was it outrage:--yet, 'tis true, + Not then claimed sovereignty his due; + While Albany, with feeble hand, + Held borrowed truncheon of command, + The young King mew'd in Stirling tower, + Was stranger to respect and power. + But then, thy Chieftain's robber life! + Winning mean prey by causeless strife, + Wrenching from ruined lowland swain + His herds and harvest reared in vain, + Methinks a soul like thine should scorn + The spoils from such foul foray borne." + The Gael beheld him grim the while, + And answered with disdainful smile,-- + "Saxon, from yonder mountain high, + I marked thee send delighted eye + Far to the south and east, where lay + Extended in succession gay, + Deep waving fields and pastures green, + With gentle slopes and groves between:-- + These fertile plains, that softened vale, + Were once the birthright of the Gael; + The stranger came with iron hand, + And from our fathers reft the land. + Where dwell we now? See, rudely swell + Crag over crag, fell over fell. + Ask we this savage hill we tread, + For fattened steer or household bread; + Ask we for flocks these shingles dry, + And well the mountain might reply,-- + "To you, as to your sires of yore, + Belong the target and claymore! + I give you shelter in my breast, + Your own good blades must win the rest." + Pent in this fortress of the North, + Think'st thou we will not sally forth, + To spoil the spoiler as we may, + And from the robber rend the prey? + Aye, by my soul!--While on yon plain + The Saxon rears one shock of grain; + While of ten thousand herds, there strays + But one along yon river's maze,-- + The Gael, of plain and river heir, + Shall, with strong hand, redeem his share. + Where live the mountain Chiefs who hold + That plundering Lowland field and fold + Is aught but retribution true? + Seek other cause 'gainst Roderick Dhu." + Answered Fitz-James--"And, if I sought, + Think'st thou no other could be brought? + What deem ye of my path waylaid, + My life given o'er to ambuscade?" + "As of a meed to rashness due: + Hadst thou sent warning fair and true,-- + I seek my hound, or falcon strayed. + I seek, good faith, a Highland maid.-- + Free hadst thou been to come and go; + But secret path marks secret foe. + Nor yet, for this, even as a spy, + Hadst thou unheard, been doomed to die, + Save to fulfil an augury." + "Well, let it pass; nor will I now + Fresh cause of enmity avow, + To chafe thy mood and cloud thy brow. + Enough, I am by promise tied + To match me with this man of pride: + Twice have I sought Clan-Alpine's glen + In peace: but when I come again, + I come with banner, brand, and bow, + As leader seeks his mortal foe. + For love-lorn swain, in lady's bower, + Ne'er panted for the appointed hour, + As I, until before me stand + This rebel Chieftain and his band." + "Have, then, thy wish!"--he whistled shrill, + And he was answered from the hill: + Wild as the scream of the curlew, + From crag to crag the signal flew. + Instant, through copse and heath, arose + Bonnets and spears, and bended bows. + On right, on left, above, below, + Sprung up at once the lurking foe; + From shingles grey their lances start, + The bracken bush sends forth the dart. + The rushes and the willow wand + Are bristling into axe and brand, + And every tuft of broom gives life + To plaided warrior armed for strife. + That whistle garrison'd the glen + At once with full five hundred men, + As if the yawning hill to heaven + A subterraneous host had given. + Watching their leader's beck and will, + All silent there they stood and still. + Like the loose crags whose threatening mass + Lay tottering o'er the hollow pass, + As if an infant's touch could urge + Their headlong passage down the verge, + With step and weapon forward flung. + Upon the mountain-side they hung. + The mountaineer cast glance of pride + Along Benledi's living side, + Then fixed his eye and sable brow + Full on Fitz-James--"How says't thou now? + These are Clan-Alpine's warriors true, + And, Saxon,--I am Roderick Dhu!" + Fitz-James was brave:--Though to his heart + The life-blood thrilled with sudden start, + He mann'd himself with dauntless air, + Returned the Chief his haughty stare, + His back against a rock he bore, + And firmly placed his foot before:-- + "Come one, come all! this rock shall fly + From its firm base as soon as I." + Sir Roderick marked--and in his eyes + Respect was mingled with surprise, + And the stern joy which warriors feel + In foemen worthy of their steel. + Short space he stood--then waved his hand; + Down sunk the disappearing band: + Each warrior vanished where he stood, + In broom or bracken, heath or wood: + Sunk brand and spear, and bended bow, + In osiers pale and copses low; + It seemed as if their mother Earth + Had swallowed up her warlike birth. + The wind's last breath had tossed in air + Pennon, and plaid, and plumage fair,-- + The next but swept a lone hill-side, + Where heath and fern were waving wide; + The sun's last glance was glinted back, + From spear and glaive, from targe and jack,-- + The next, all unreflected, shone + On bracken green and cold grey stone. + Fitz-James looked round--yet scarce believed + The witness that his sight received; + Such apparition well might seem + Delusion of a dreadful dream. + Sir Roderick in suspense he eyed, + And to his look the Chief replied, + "Fear nought--nay, that I need not say-- + But--doubt not aught from mine array. + Thou art my guest:--I pledged my word + As far as Coilantogle ford: + Nor would I call a clansman's brand, + For aid against one valiant hand, + Though on our strife lay every vale + Rent by the Saxon from the Gael. + So move we on;--I only meant + To show the reed on which you leant, + Deeming this path you might pursue + Without a pass from Roderick Dhu." + + * * * * * + + The Chief in silence strode before, + And reached that torrent's sounding shore, + Which, daughter of three mighty lakes, + From Vennachar in silver breaks + Sweeps through the plain, and ceaseless mines, + On Bochastle the mouldering lines. + Where "Rome, the Empress of the world. + Of yore her eagle wings unfurl'd. + And here his course the Chieftain staid; + Threw down his target and his plaid, + And to the Lowland warrior said:-- + "Bold Saxon! to his promise just, + Vich-Alpine has discharged his trust. + This murderous Chief, this ruthless man. + This head of a rebellious clan, + Hath led thee safe, through watch and ward, + Far past Clan-Alpine's outmost guard. + Now, man to man, and steel to steel, + A Chieftain's vengeance thou shalt feel, + See, here, all vantageless, I stand, + Armed like thyself, with single brand: + For this is Coilantogle ford, + And thou must keep thee with thy sword." + The Saxon paused:--"I ne'er delayed, + When foeman bade me draw my blade; + Nay more, brave Chief, I vow'd thy death: + Yet sure thy fair and generous faith, + And my deep debt for life preserved, + A better meed have well deserved:-- + Can nought but blood our feud atone? + Are there no means?"--"No, stranger, none! + And hear,--to fire thy flagging zeal,-- + The Saxon cause rests on thy steel; + For thus spoke Fate by prophet bred + Between the living and the dead: + "Who spills the foremost foeman's life, + His party conquers in the strife."-- + "Then by my word," the Saxon said, + "The riddle is already read. + Seek yonder brake beneath the cliff,-- + There lies Red Murdoch, stark and stiff. + Thus Fate has solved her prophecy, + Then yield to Fate, and not to me. + To James, at Stirling, let us go, + When, if thou wilt be still his foe, + Or if the King shall not agree + To grant thee grace and favour free, + I plight mine honour, oath, and word, + That, to thy native strengths restored, + With each advantage shalt thou stand, + That aids thee now to guard thy land."-- + Dark lightning flashed from Roderick's eye-- + "Soars thy presumption then so high, + Because a wretched kern ye slew, + Homage to name to Roderick Dhu? + He yields not, he, to man nor Fate! + Thou add'st but fuel to my hate:-- + My clansman's blood demands revenge.-- + Not yet prepared?--By Heaven, I change + My thought, and hold thy valour light + As that of some vain carpet-knight, + Who ill-deserved my courteous care, + And whose best boast is but to wear + A braid of his fair lady's hair."-- + "I thank thee, Roderick, for the word! + It nerves my heart, it steels my sword; + For I have sworn this braid to stain + In the best blood that warms thy vein. + Now, truce, farewell; and ruth, begone! + Yet think not that by thee alone, + Proud Chief! can courtesy be shown: + Though not from copse, or heath, or cairn, + Start at my whistle, clansmen stern, + Of this small horn one feeble blast + Would fearful odds against thee cast. + But fear not--doubt not--which thou wilt-- + We try this quarrel hilt to hilt."-- + Then each at once his faulchion drew, + Each on the ground his scabbard threw, + Each looked to sun, and stream, and plain, + As what they ne'er might see again: + Then foot, and point, and eye opposed, + In dubious strife they darkly closed. + Ill-fared it then with Roderick Dhu, + That on the field his targe he threw, + Whose brazen studs and tough bull-hide + Had death so often dashed aside: + For, trained abroad his arms to wield, + Fitz-James's blade was sword and shield. + He practised every pass and ward, + To thrust, to strike, to feint, to guard; + While less expert, though stronger far, + The Gael maintained unequal war. + Three times in closing strife they stood, + And thrice the Saxon blade drank blood: + No stinted draught, no scanty tide, + The gushing flood the tartans dyed. + Fierce Roderick felt the fatal drain, + And showered his blows like wintry rain; + And, as firm rock or castle-roof, + Against the winter shower is proof, + The foe invulnerable still + Foiled his wild rage by steady skill; + Till, at advantage ta'en, his brand + Forced Roderick's weapon from his hand, + And, backward borne upon the lea, + Brought the proud Chieftain to his knee. + "Now, yield thee, or, by Him who made + The world, thy heart's blood dyes my blade!"-- + "Thy threats, thy mercy, I defy! + Let recreant yield, who fears to die."-- + Like adder darting from his coil, + Like wolf that dashes through the toil, + Like mountain-cat who guards her young, + Full at Fitz-James's throat he sprung, + Received, but reck'd not of a wound, + And locked his arms his foeman round.-- + Now gallant Saxon, hold thine own! + No maiden's hand is round thee thrown! + That desperate grasp thy frame might feel, + Through bars of brass and triple steel!-- + They tug, they strain!--down, down they go, + The Gael above, Fitz-James below. + The Chieftain's gripe his throat compress'd, + His knee was planted on his breast; + His clotted locks he backward threw, + Across his brow his hand he drew, + From blood and mist to clear his sight, + Then gleam'd aloft his dagger bright! + --But hate and fury ill supplied + The stream of life's exhausted tide, + And all too late the advantage came, + To turn the odds of deadly game; + For, while the dagger gleam'd on high, + Keeled soul and sense, reeled brain and eye, + Down came the blow! but in the heath + The erring blade found bloodless sheath. + The struggling foe may now unclasp + The fainting Chief's relaxing grasp; + Unbounded from the dreadful close, + But breathless all, Fitz-James arose. + + SCOTT. + + + +[Notes: _Fitz-James_ is James V. in disguise. + + +_Holy Rood_, or Holy Cross, where was the royal palace of the Scottish +kings. + + +_Albany_. The Duke of Albany, who was regent of Scotland during part of +the minority of James V. + + +_Where Rome, the Empress, &c._ And where remnants of Roman encampments +are still to be traced.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +THE BATTLE OF NASEBY. + + +BY five o'clock in the morning, the whole army, in order of battle, +began to descry the enemy from the rising grounds about a mile from +Naseby, and moved towards them. They were drawn up on a little ascent in +a large common fallow-field, in one line, extending from one side of the +field to the other, the field something more than a mile over; our army +in the same order, in one line, with the reserves. + +The king led the main battle of foot, Prince Rupert the right wing of +the horse, and Sir Marmaduke Langdale the left. Of the enemy Fairfax and +Skippon led the body, Cromwell and Roseter the right, and Ireton the +left. The numbers of both armies so equal, as not to differ five hundred +men, save that the king had most horse by about one thousand, and +Fairfax most foot by about five hundred. The number was in each army +about eighteen thousand men. + +The armies coming close up, the wings engaged first. The prince with his +right wing charged with his wonted fury, and drove all the parliament's +wing of horse, one division excepted, clear out of the field. Ireton, +who commanded this wing, give him his due, rallied often, and fought +like a lion; but our wing bore down all before them, and pursued +them with a terrible execution. + +Ireton, seeing one division of his horse left, repaired to them, and +keeping his ground, fell foul of a brigade of our foot, who coming up to +the head of the line, he like a madman charges them with his horse. But +they with their pikes tore them to pieces; so that this division was +entirely ruined. Ireton himself, thrust through the thigh with a pike, +wounded in the face with a halberd, was unhorsed and taken prisoner. + +Cromwell, who commanded the parliament's right wing, charged Sir +Marmaduke Langdale with extraordinary fury; but he, an old tried +soldier, stood firm, and received the charge with equal gallantry, +exchanging all their shot, carabines, and pistols, and then fell on +sword in hand, Roseter and Whaley had the better on the point of +the wing, and routed two divisions of horse, pushed them behind the +reserves, where they rallied, and charged again, but were at last +defeated; the rest of the horse, now charged in the flank, retreated +fighting, and were pushed behind the reserves of foot. + +While this was doing, the foot engaged with equal fierceness, and for +two hours there was a terrible fire. The king's foot, backed with +gallant officers, and full of rage at the rout of their horse, bore +down the enemy's brigade led by Skippon. The old man wounded, bleeding, +retreats to their reserves. All the foot, except the general's brigade, +were thus driven into the reserves, where their officers rallied them, +and brought them on to a fresh charge; and here the horse having driven +our horse above a quarter of a mile from the foot, face about, and fall +in on the rear of the foot. + +Had our right wing done thus, the day had been secured; but Prince +Rupert, according to his custom, following the flying enemy, never +concerned himself with the safety of those behind; and yet he returned +sooner than he had done in like cases too. At our return we found all in +confusion, our foot broken, all but one brigade, which, though charged +in the front, flank, and rear, could not be broken, till Sir Thomas +Fairfax himself came up to the charge with fresh men, and then they +were rather cut in pieces than beaten; for they stood with their pikes +charged every way to the last extremity. + +In this condition, at the distance of a quarter of a mile, we saw the +king rallying his horse, and preparing to renew the fight; and our wing +of horse coming up to him, gave him opportunity to draw up a large body +of horse; so large, that all the enemy's horse facing us, stood still +and looked on, but did not think fit to charge us, till their foot, who +had entirely broken our main battle, were put into order again, and +brought up to us. + +The officers about the king advised his majesty rather to draw off; for, +since our foot were lost, it would be too much odds to expose the horse +to the fury of their whole army, and would be but sacrificing his best +troops, without any hopes of success. + +The king, though with great regret at the loss of his foot, yet seeing +there was no other hope, took this advice, and retreated in good order +to Harborough, and from thence to Leicester. + +This was the occasion of the enemy having so great a number of +prisoners; for the horse being thus gone off, the foot had no means +to make their retreat, and were obliged to yield themselves. +Commissary-General Ireton being taken by a captain of foot, makes the +captain his prisoner, to save his life, and gives him his liberty for +his courtesy before. + +Cromwell and Roseter, with all the enemy's horse, followed us as far as +Leicester, and killed all that they could lay hold on straggling from +the body, but durst not attempt to charge us in a body. The +king expecting the enemy would come to Leicester, removes to +Ashby-de-la-Zouch, where we had some time to recollect ourselves. + +This was the most fatal action of the whole war; not so much for the +loss of our cannon, ammunition, and baggage, of which the enemy boasted +so much, but as it was impossible for the king ever to retrieve it. The +foot, the best that he was ever master of, could never be supplied; his +army in the west was exposed to certain ruin; the north overrun with the +Scots; in short, the case grew desperate, and the king was once upon the +point of bidding us all disband, and shift for ourselves. + +We lost in this fight not above two thousand slain, and the parliament +near as many, but the prisoners were a great number; the whole body of +foot being, as I have said, dispersed, there were four thousand five +hundred prisoners, besides four hundred officers, two thousand horses, +twelve pieces of cannon, forty barrels of powder; all the king's +baggage, coaches, most of his servants, and his secretary; with his +cabinet of letters, of which the parliament made great improvement, and, +basely enough, caused his private letters between his majesty and the +queen, her majesty's letters to the king, and a great deal of such +stuff, to be printed. + + DEFOE. + + + +[Note: _The battle of Naseby_, fought on June 14th, 1645. The king's +forces were routed, and his cannon and baggage fell into the enemy's +hands. Not only was the loss heavy, but it was made more serious by his +correspondence falling into the hands of the parliamentary leaders, +which exposed his dealings with the Irish Roman Catholics. The most +remarkable point about this description is the air of reality which +Defoe gives to his account of an event which took place nearly twenty +years before his birth.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +THE PILGRIMS AND GIANT DESPAIR. + +Now there was, not far from the place where they lay, a castle, called +Doubting Castle, the owner whereof was Giant Despair, and it was in his +grounds they now were sleeping; wherefore he, getting up in the morning +early, and walking up and down in his fields, caught Christian and +Hopeful asleep in his grounds. Then with a grim and surly voice he bid +them awake, and asked them whence they were, and what they did in his +grounds. They told him that they were pilgrims, and that they had lost +their way. Then said the giant. You have this night trespassed on me by +trampling in and lying on my grounds, and therefore you must go along +with me. So they were forced to go, because he was stronger than they. +They also had but little to say, for they knew themselves in a fault. +The giant, therefore, drove them before him, and put them into his +castle, into a very dark dungeon, nasty, and loathsome to the spirits of +these two men. Here, then, they lay from Wednesday morning till Saturday +night, without one bit of bread or drop of drink, or light, or any to +ask how they did; they were, therefore, here in evil case, and were far +from friends and acquaintance. Now, in this place Christian had double +sorrow, because it was through his unadvised haste that they were +brought into this distress. + +Now Giant Despair had a wife, and her name was Diffidence; so when he +was gone to bed, he told his wife what he had done, to wit, that he +had taken a couple of prisoners, and cast them into his dungeon for +trespassing on his grounds. Then he asked her also what he had best to +do further to them. So she asked him what they were, whence they came, +and whither they were bound, and he told her. Then she counselled him, +that when he arose in the morning he should beat them without mercy. So +when he arose, he getteth him a grievous crabtree cudgel, and goes down +into the dungeon to them, and there first falls to rating of them as if +they were dogs, although they never gave him a word of distaste. Then he +falls upon them, and beats them fearfully, in such sort that they were +not able to help themselves, or to turn them upon the floor. This done, +he withdraws, and leaves them there to condole their misery, and to +mourn under their distress: so all that day they spent their time in +nothing but sighs and bitter lamentations. The next night, she, talking +with her husband further about them, and understanding that they were +yet alive, did advise him to counsel them to make away with themselves. +So when morning was come, he goes to them in a surly manner, as before, +and perceiving them to be very sore with the stripes that he had given +them the day before, he told them, that since they were never like to +come out of that place, their only way would be forthwith to make an end +of themselves, either with knife, halter, or poison; for why, said +he, should you choose to live, seeing it is attended with so much +bitterness? But they desired him to let them go. With that he looked +ugly upon them, and, rushing to them, had doubtless made an end of them +himself, but that he fell into one of his fits (for he sometimes, in +sunshiny weather, fell into fits), and lost for a time the use of his +hands; wherefore he withdrew, and left them as before to consider what +to do. + +Well, towards evening the giant goes down into the dungeon again, to see +if his prisoners had taken his counsel. But when he came there, he found +them alive; and, truly, alive was all; for now, what for want of bread +and water, and by reason of the wounds they received when he beat them, +they could do little but breathe. But, I say, he found them alive; at +which he fell into a grievous rage, and told them, that seeing they had +disobeyed his counsel, it should be worse with them than if they had +never been born. + +At this they trembled greatly, and I think that Christian fell into +a swoon: but coming a little to himself again, they renewed their +discourse about the giant's counsel, and whether yet they had best take +it or no. + +Now night being come again, and the giant and his wife being in bed, she +asked him concerning the prisoners, and if they had taken his counsel; +to which he replied. They are sturdy rogues; they choose rather to bear +all hardships than to make away with themselves. Then said she, Take +them into the castle-yard to-morrow, and show them the bones and skulls +of those that thou hast already despatched, and make them believe, ere a +week comes to an end, thou wilt tear them in pieces, as thou hast done +their fellows before them. + +So when the morning was come, the giant goes to them again, and takes +them into the castle-yard, and shows them as his wife had bidden him. +These, said he, were pilgrims as you are once, and they trespassed on my +grounds as you have done; and when I thought fit, I tore them in pieces; +and so within ten days I will do you. Go get you down to your den again. +And with that he beat them all the way thither. They lay therefore all +day on Saturday in lamentable case as before. Now when night was come, +and when Mrs. Diffidence and her husband the giant were got to bed, they +began to renew their discourse of the prisoners; and withal the old +giant wondered that he could neither by his blows nor counsel bring them +to an end. And with that his wife replied, I fear, said she, that they +live in hopes that some will come to relieve them, or that they have +picklocks about them, by the means of which they hope to escape. And +sayest thou so, my dear? said the giant; I will therefore search them in +the morning. + +Well, on Saturday about midnight, they began to pray, and continued in +prayer till almost break of day. + +Now, a little before it was day, good Christian, as one half amazed, +broke out into this passionate speech: What a fool, quoth he, am I, to +lie in a dungeon, when I may as well walk at liberty! I have a key in +my bosom called Promise, that will, I am persuaded, open any lock in +Doubtful Castle. Then said Hopeful, That's good news; good brother, +pluck it out of thy bosom and try. + +Then Christian pulled it out of his bosom, and began to try at the +dungeon-door, whose bolt, as he turned the key, gave back, and the door +flew open with ease, and Christian and Hopeful both came out. Then he +went to the outward door that leads into the castle-yard, and with his +key opened that door also. After that he went to the iron gate, for that +must be opened too, but that lock went desperately hard, yet the key did +open it. Then they thrust open the gate to make their escape with speed; +but that gate, as it opened, made such a creaking, that it waked Giant +Despair, who, hastily rising to pursue his prisoners, felt his limbs to +fail; for his fits took him again, so that he could by no means go after +them. Then, they went on, and came to the king's highway again, and so +were safe, because they were out of his jurisdiction. + + BUNYAN. + + + +[Note: _John Bunyan_ (1628-1688), the Puritan tinker, author of the +'Pilgrim's Progress,'] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + + THE WINTER EVENING. + + + Hark! 'tis the twanging horn o'er yonder bridge, + That with its wearisome but needful length + Bestrides the wintry flood, in which the moon + Sees her unwrinkled face reflected bright!-- + He comes, the herald of a noisy world, + With spatter'd boots, strapped waist, and frozen locks! + News from all nations lumb'ring at his back. + True to his charge, the close-pack'd load behind. + Yet careless what he brings, his one concern + Is to conduct it to the destined inn; + And, having dropp'd th' expected bag, pass on. + He whistles as he goes, light-hearted wretch, + Cold and yet cheerful: messenger of grief + Perhaps to thousands, and of joy to some; + To him indiff'rent whether grief or joy. + Houses in ashes, and the fall of stocks, + Births, deaths, and marriages, epistles wet + With tears, that trickled down the writer's cheeks + Fast as the periods from his fluent quill. + Or charged with am'rous sighs of absent swains, + Or nymphs responsive, equally affect + His horse and him, unconscious of them all. + But oh the important budget; usher'd in + With such heart-shaking music, who can say + What are its tidings? have our troops awak'd? + Or do they still, as if with opium drugged, + Snore to the murmurs of the Atlantic wave? + Is India free? and does she wear her plumed + And jewell'd turban with a smile of peace, + Or do we grind her still? The grand debate, + The popular harangue, the tart reply, + The logic, and the wisdom, and the wit, + And the loud laugh--I long to know them all; + I burn to set the imprison'd wranglers free, + And give them voice and utt'rance once again. + + Now stir the fire, and close the shutters fast, + Let fall the curtains, wheel the sofa round, + And, while the bubbling and loud hissing urn + Throws up a steamy column, and the cups + That cheer, but not inebriate, wait on each, + So let us welcome peaceful evening in. + Not such his evening, who with shining face + Sweats in the crowded theatre, and, squeez'd + And bor'd with elbow-points through both his sides. + Outscolds the ranting actor on the stage; + Nor his, who patient stands till his feet throb. + And his head thumps, to feed upon the breath + Of patriots bursting with heroic rage, + Or placemen, all tranquillity and smiles. + This folio of four pages, happy work! + Which not e'en critics criticise; that holds + Inquisitive attention, while I read. + Fast bound in chains of silence, which the fair, + Though eloquent themselves, yet fear to break: + What is it, but a map of busy life, + Its fluctuations, and its vast concerns? + Here runs the mountainous and craggy ridge, + That tempts ambition. On the summit, see, + The seals of office glitter in his eyes; + He climbs, he pants, he grasps them! At his heels. + Close at his heels, a demagogue ascends, + And with a dext'rous jerk, soon twists him + And wins them, but to lose them in his turn. + Here rills of oily eloquence in soft + Meanders lubricate the course they take; + The modest speaker is asham'd and grieved + To engross a moment's notice; and yet begs. + Begs a propitious ear for his poor thoughts, + However trivial all that he conceives. + Sweet bashfulness! it claims at least this praise; + The dearth of information and good sense, + That it foretells us, always comes to pass. + Cataracts of declamation thunder here; + There forests of no meaning spread the page, + In which all comprehension wanders lost; + While fields of pleasantry amuse us there + With merry descants on a nation's woes. + The rest appears a wilderness of strange + But gay confusion; roses for the cheeks, + And lilies for the brows of faded age, + Teeth for the toothless, ringlets for the bald, + Heaven, earth, and ocean, plunder'd of their sweets, + Nectareous essences, Olympian dews, + Sermons, and city feasts, and fav'rite airs, + Ethereal journeys, submarine exploits. + And Katerfelto, with his hair on end + At his own wonders, wond'ring for his bread. + + 'Tis pleasant, through the loopholes of retreat, + To peep at such a world; to see the stir + Of the great Babel, and not feel the crowd; + To hear the roar she sends through all her gates + At a safe distance, where the dying sound + Falls a soft murmur on the uninjur'd ear. + Thus sitting, and surveying thus at ease + The globe and its concerns, I seem advanc'd + To some secure and more than mortal height. + That liberates and exempts me from them all + It turns submitted to my view, turns round + With all its generations; I behold + The tumult, and am still. The sound of war + Has lost its terrors ere it reaches me; + Grieves, but alarms me not. I mourn the pride + And avarice that make man a wolf to man; + Hear the faint echo of those brazen throats + By which he speaks the language of his heart, + And sigh, but never tremble at the bound. + He travels and expatiates, as the bee + From flower to flower, so he from land to land: + The manners, customs, policy, of all + Pay contribution to the store he gleans; + He sucks intelligence in every clinic, + And spreads the honey of his deep research + At his return--a rich repast for me. + He travels, and I too. I tread his deck, + Ascend his topmast, through his peering eyes + Discover countries, with a kindred heart + Suffer his woes, and share in his escapes; + While fancy, like the finger of a clock, + Runs the great circuit, and is still at home. + + COWPER. + + + +[Note:_Katerfelto_. A quack then exhibiting in London.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +A HARD WINTER. + + +There were some circumstances attending the remarkable frost of January +1776 so singular and striking, that a short detail of them may not be +unacceptable. + +The most certain way to be exact will be to copy the passages from my +journal, which were taken from time to time, as things occurred. But it +may be proper previously to remark, that the first week in January was +uncommonly wet, and drowned with vast rain from every quarter; from +whence may be inferred, as there is great reason to believe is the case, +that intense frosts seldom take place till the earth is completely +glutted and chilled with water; and hence dry autumns are seldom +followed by rigorous winters. + +January 7th.--Snow driving all the day, which was followed by frost, +sleet, and some snow, till the twelfth, when a prodigious mass +overwhelmed all the works of men, drifting over the tops of the gates, +and filling the hollow lanes. + +On the 14th, the writer was obliged to be much abroad; and thinks he +never before, or since, has encountered such rugged Siberian weather. +Many of the narrow roads are now filled above the tops of the hedges; +through which the snow was driven in most romantic and grotesque shapes, +so striking to the imagination as not to be seen without wonder and +pleasure. The poultry dared not stir out of their roosting-places; for +cocks and hens are so dazzled and confounded by the glare of the snow, +that they would soon perish without assistance. The hares also lay +sullenly in their seats, and would not move till compelled by hunger; +being conscious, poor animals, that the drifts and heaps treacherously +betray their footsteps, and prove fatal to numbers of them. + +From the 14th, the snow continued to increase, and began to stop the +road-waggons and coaches, which could no longer keep in their regular +stages; and especially on the western roads, where the fall appears to +have been greater than in the south. The company at Bath, that wanted to +attend the Queen's birthday, were strangely incommoded; many carriages +of persons who got, in their way to town from Bath, as far as +Marlborough, after strange embarrassment, here came to a dead stop. The +ladies fretted, and offered large rewards to labourers if they would +shovel them a track to London; but the relentless heaps of snow were too +bulky to be removed; and so the 18th passed over, leaving the company in +very uncomfortable circumstances at the _Castle_ and other inns. + +On the 20th, the sun shone out for the first time since the frost +began; a circumstance that has been remarked before, much in favour +of vegetation. All this time the cold was not very intense, for the +thermometer stood at 29°, 28° 25° and thereabout; but on the 21st it +descended to 20°. The birds now began to be in a very pitiable and +starving condition. Tamed by the season, sky-larks settled in the +streets of towns, because they saw the ground was bare; rooks frequented +dung-hills close to houses; hares now came into men's gardens, and +scraping away the snow, devoured such plants as they could find. + +On the 22nd, the author had occasion to go to London; through a sort +of Laplandian scene very wild and grotesque indeed. But the metropolis +itself exhibited a still more singular appearance than the country; for, +being bedded deep in snow, the pavement could not be touched by the +wheels or the horses' feet, so that the carriages ran about without the +least noise. Such an exemption from din and clatter was strange, but not +pleasant; it seemed to convey an uncomfortable idea of desolation. + +On the 27th, much snow fell all day, and in the evening the frost became +very intense. At South Lambeth, for the four following nights, the +thermometer fell to 11°, 7°, 0°, 6°; and at Selborne to 7°, 6°, 10°; and +on the 31st of January, just before sunrise, with rime on the trees, and +on the tube of the glass, the quicksilver sunk exactly to zero, being +32° below freezing point; but by eleven in the morning, though in the +shade, it sprung up to 16-1/2°--a most unusual degree of cold this +for the south of England. During these four nights the cold was so +penetrating that it occasioned ice in warm and protected chambers; and +in the day the wind was so keen that persons of robust constitutions +could scarcely endure to face it. The Thames was at once so frozen over, +both above and below the bridge, that crowds ran about on the ice. The +streets were now strangely encumbered with snow, which crumbled and trod +dusty, mid, turning gray, resembled bay-salt; what had fallen on the +roofs was so perfectly dry, that from first to last it lay twenty-six +days on the houses in the city--a longer time than had been remembered +by the oldest housekeepers living. According to all appearances, we +might now have expected the continuance of this rigorous weather for +weeks to come, since every night increased in severity; but behold, +without any apparent on the 1st of February a thaw took place, and some +rain followed before night; making good the observation, that frosts +often go off, as it were, at once, without any gradual declension of +cold. On the 2nd of February, the thaw persisted; and on the 3rd, swarms +of little insects were frisking and sporting in a court-yard at South +Lambeth, as if they had felt no frost. Why the juices in the small +bodies and smaller limbs of such minute beings are not frozen, is a +matter of curious inquiry. + + REV. GILBERT WHITE. + + + +[Note: _Rev. Gilbert White_ (1720-1793), author of the 'Natural History +of Selborne,' one of the most charming books on natural history in the +language.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +A PORTENTOUS SUMMER. + + +The, summer of the year 1783 was an amazing and portentous one, and full +of horrible phenomena; for, besides the alarming meteors and tremendous +thunder and storms that affrighted and distressed the different counties +of this kingdom, the peculiar haze, or smoky fog, that prevailed for +many weeks in this island, and in every part of Europe, and even beyond +its limits, was a most extraordinary appearance, unlike anything known +within the memory of man. By my journal I find that I had noticed this +strange occurrence from June 23 to July 20 inclusive, during which +period the wind varied to every quarter, without making any alteration +in the air. The sun, at noon, looked as black as a clouded moon, and +shed a rust-coloured feruginous light on the ground and floors of +rooms, but was particularly lurid and blood-coloured at rising and +setting. All the time the heat was so intense that butchers' meat could +hardly be eaten the day after it was killed; and the flies swarmed so +in the lanes and hedges that they rendered the horses half frantic, and +riding irksome. The country-people began to look with a superstitious +awe at the red, lowering aspect of the sun; and, indeed, there was +reason for the most enlightened person to be apprehensive, for all the +while Calabria, and part of the isle of Sicily, were torn and convulsed +with earthquakes; and about that juncture a volcano sprang out of the +sea on the coast of Norway. On this occasion Milton's noble simile of +the sun, in his first book of 'Paradise Lost,' frequently occurred to +my mind; and it is indeed particularly applicable, because, towards the +end, it alludes to a superstitious kind of dread with which the minds of +men are always impressed by such strange and unusual phenomena:-- + + + "As when the sun, new risen, + Looks through the horizontal, misty air + Shorn of his beams; or, from behind the moon. + In dim eclipse, disastrous twilight sheds + On half the nations, and with fear of change + Perplexes monarchs." + + REV. GILBERT WHITE. + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +A THUNDERSTORM. + +On the 5th of June, 1784, the thermometer in the morning being at 64, +and at noon at 70, the barometer at 29.6 1/2, and the wind north, I +observed a blue mist, smelling strongly of sulphur, hang along our +sloping woods, and seeming to indicate that thunder was at hand. I was +called in about two in the afternoon, and so missed seeing the gathering +of the clouds in the north, which they who were abroad assured me had +something uncommon in its appearance. At about a quarter after two the +storm began in the parish of Hartley, moving slowly from north to south; +and from thence it came over Norton Farm and so to Grange Farm, both in +this parish. It began with vast drops of rain, which were soon succeeded +by round hail, and then by convex pieces of ice, which measured three +inches in girth. Had it been as extensive as it was violent, and of +any continuance (for it was very short), it must have ravaged all the +neighbourhood. In the parish of Hartley it did some damage to one farm; +but Norton, which lay in the centre of the storm, was greatly injured; +as was Grange, which lay next to it. It did but just reach to the middle +of the village, where the hail broke my north windows, and all my garden +lights and hand-glasses, and many of my neighbours' windows. The extent +of the storm was about two miles in length, and one in breadth. We were +just sitting down to dinner; but were soon diverted from our repast by +the clattering of tiles and the jingling of glass. There fell at the +same time prodigious torrents of rain on the farm above mentioned, which +occasioned a flood as violent as it was sudden, doing great damage to +the meadows and fallows by deluging the one and washing away the soil of +the other. The hollow lane towards Alton was so torn and disordered as +not to be passable till mended, rocks being removed that weighed two +hundredweight. Those that saw the effect which the great hail had on the +ponds and pools, say that the dashing of the water made an extraordinary +appearance, the froth and spray standing up in the air three feet above +the surface. The rushing and roaring of the hail, as it approached, was +truly tremendous. + +Though the clouds at South Lambeth, near London, were at that juncture +thin and light, and no storm was in sight, nor within hearing, yet the +air was strongly electric; for the bells of an electric machine at that +place rang repeatedly, and fierce sparks were discharged. + + REV. GILBERT WHITE. + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +CHARACTER OF SIR WALTER SCOTT. + + +About half-past one P.M. on the 21st of September, 1832, Sir Walter +Scott breathed his last, in the presence of all his children. It was +a beautiful day--so warm, that every window was wide open--and so +perfectly still, that the sound of all others most delicious to his ear, +the gentle ripple of the Tweed over its pebbles, was distinctly audible +as we knelt around the bed, and his eldest son kissed and closed his +eyes. No sculptor ever modelled a more majestic image of repose. + +It will, I presume, be allowed that no human character, which we have +the opportunity of studying with equal minuteness, had fewer faults +mixed up in its texture. The grand virtue of fortitude, the basis of all +others, was never displayed in higher perfection than in him; and +it was, as perhaps true courage always is, combined with an equally +admirable spirit of kindness and humanity. His pride, if we must call it +so, undebased by the least tincture of mere vanity, was intertwined with +a most exquisite charity, and was not inconsistent with true humility. +If ever the principle of kindliness was incarnated in a mere man, it +was in him; and real kindliness can never be but modest. In the social +relations of life, where men are most effectually tried, no spot can be +detected in him. He was a patient, dutiful, reverent son; a generous, +compassionate, tender husband; an honest, careful, and most affectionate +father. Never was a more virtuous or a happier fireside than his. The +influence of his mighty genius shadowed it imperceptibly; his calm good +sense, and his angelic sweetness of heart and temper, regulated and +softened a strict but paternal discipline. His children, as they grew +up, understood by degrees the high privilege of their birth; but the +profoundest sense of his greatness never disturbed their confidence in +his goodness. The buoyant play of his spirits made him sit young among +the young; parent and son seemed to live in brotherhood together; +and the chivalry of his imagination threw a certain air of courteous +gallantry into his relations with his daughters, which gave a very +peculiar grace to the fondness of their intercourse. + +Perhaps the most touching evidence of the lasting tenderness of his +early domestic feelings was exhibited to his executors, when they opened +his repositories in search of his testament, the evening after his +burial. On lifting up his desk we found arranged in careful order a +series of little objects, which had obviously been so placed there that +his eye might rest on them every morning before he began his tasks. +These were the old-fashioned boxes that had garnished his mother's +toilet when he, a sickly child, slept in her dressing-room; the silver +taper-stand which the young advocate had bought for her with his first +five-guinea fee; a row of small packets inscribed with her hand, and +containing the hair of those of her offspring that had died before her; +his father's snuff-box and pencil-case; and more things of the like +sort, recalling the "old familiar faces." The same feeling was apparent +in all the arrangement of his private apartment. Pictures of his father +and mother were the only ones in his dressing-room. The clumsy antique +cabinets that stood there--things of a very different class from the +beautiful and costly productions in the public rooms below--had all +belonged to the furniture of George's Square. Even his father's rickety +washing-stand, with all its cramped appurtenances, though exceedingly +unlike what a man of his very scrupulous habits would have selected in +these days, kept its ground. Such a son and parent could hardly fail +in any of the other social relations. No man was a firmer or more +indefatigable friend. I know not that he ever lost one; and a few +with whom, during the energetic middle stage of life, from political +differences or other accidental circumstances, he lived less familiarly, +had all gathered round him, and renewed the full warmth of early +affection in his later days. There was enough to dignify the connexion +in their eyes; but nothing to chill it on either side. The imagination +that so completely mastered him when he chose to give her the rein, was +kept under most determined control when any of the positive obligations +of active life came into question. A high and pure sense of duty +presided over whatever he had to do as a citizen and a magistrate; and, +as a landlord, he considered his estate as an extension of his hearth. + + J. LOCKHART. + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +MUMPS'S HALL. + + +There is, or rather I should say there _was_, a little inn, called +Mumps's Hall--that is, being interpreted, Beggar's Hotel--near to +Gilsland, which had not then attained its present fame as a Spa. It +was a hedge alehouse, where the Border farmers of either country often +stopped to refresh themselves and their nags, in their way to and from +the fairs and trysts in Cumberland, and especially those who came from +or went to Scotland, through a barren and lonely district, without +either road or pathway, emphatically called the Waste of Bewcastle. At +the period when the adventure about to be described is supposed to have +taken place, there were many instances of attacks by freebooters, on +those who travelled through this wild district; and Mumps's Hall had +a bad reputation for harbouring the banditti who committed such +depredations. + +An old and sturdy yeoman belonging to the Scottish side, by surname an +Armstrong or Elliot, but well known by his sobriquet of Fighting Charlie +of Liddesdale, and still remembered for the courage he displayed in +the frequent frays which took place on the Border fifty or sixty years +since, had the following adventure in the Waste, one of many which gave +its character to the place:-- + +Charlie had been at Stagshaw-bank fair, had sold his sheep or cattle, or +whatever he had brought to market, and was on his return to Liddesdale. +There were then no country banks where cash could be deposited, and +bills received instead, which greatly encouraged robbery in that wild +country, as the objects of plunder were usually fraught with gold. The +robbers had spies in the fair, by means of whom they generally knew +whose purse was best stocked, and who took a lonely and desolate road +homeward--those, in short, who were best worth robbing, and likely to be +most easily robbed. + +All this Charlie knew full well; but he had a pair of excellent pistols, +and a dauntless heart. He stopped at Mumps's Hall, notwithstanding the +evil character of the place. His horse was accommodated where it might +have the necessary rest and feed of corn; and the landlady used all the +influence in her power to induce him to stop all night. The landlord was +from home, she said, and it was ill passing the Waste, as twilight must +needs descend on him before he gained the Scottish side, which was +reckoned the safest. But fighting Charlie, though he suffered himself to +be detained later than was prudent, did not account Mumps's Hall a safe +place to quarter in during the night. He tore himself away, therefore, +from Meg's good fare and kind words, and mounted his nag, having first +examined his pistols, and tried by the ramrod whether the charge +remained in them. + +He proceeded a mile or two, at a round trot, when, as the Waste +stretched black before him, apprehensions began to awaken in his mind, +partly arising out of Meg's unusual kindness, which he could not help +thinking had rather a suspicious appearance. He therefore resolved to +reload his pistols, lest the powder had become damp; but what was his +surprise, when he drew the charge, to find neither powder nor ball, +while each barrel had been carefully filled with _tow_, up to the space +which the loading had occupied! and, the priming of the weapons being +left untouched, nothing but actually drawing and examining the charge +could have discovered the inefficiency of his arms till the fatal minute +arrived when their services were required. Charlie reloaded his pistols +with care and accuracy, having now no doubt that he was to be waylaid +and assaulted. He was not far engaged in the Waste, which was then, and +is now, traversed only by such routes as are described in the text, when +two or three fellows, disguised and variously armed, started from a +moss-hag, while, by a glance behind him (for, marching, as the Spaniard +says, with his beard on his shoulder, he reconnoitred in every +direction), Charlie instantly saw retreat was impossible, as other two +stout men appeared behind him at some distance. The Borderer lost not a +moment in taking his resolution, and boldly trotted against his enemies +in front, who called loudly on him to stand and deliver. Charlie spurred +on, and presented his pistol. "A fig for your pistol!" said the foremost +robber, whom Charlie to his dying day protested he believed to have been +the landlord of Mumps's Hall--"A fig for your pistol! I care not a curse +for it."--"Ay, lad," said the deep voice of Fighting Charlie, "but the +_tow's out now_". He had no occasion to utter another word; the rogues, +surprised at finding a man of redoubted courage well armed, instead of +being defenceless, took to the moss in every direction, and he passed on +his way without further molestation. + + SCOTT. + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +THE PORTEOUS MOB. + + +The magistrates, after vain attempts to make themselves heard and +obeyed, possessing no means of enforcing their authority, were +constrained to abandon the field to the rioters, and retreat in all +speed from the showers of missiles that whistled around their ears. + +The passive resistance of the Tolbooth-gate promised to do more to +baffle the purpose of the mob than the active interference of the +magistrates. The heavy sledge-hammers continued to din against it +without intermission, and with a noise which, echoed from the lofty +buildings around the spot, seemed enough to have alarmed the garrison in +the Castle. It was circulated among the rioters that the troops would +march down to disperse them, unless they could execute their purpose +without loss of time; or that even without quitting the fortress, the +garrison might obtain the same end by throwing a bomb or two upon the +street. + +Urged by such motives for apprehension, they eagerly relieved each other +at the labour of assailing the Tolbooth door; yet such was its strength, +that it still defied their efforts. At length, a voice was heard to +pronounce the words, "Try it with fire!" The rioters, with an unanimous +shout, called for combustibles, and as all their wishes seemed to be +instantly supplied, they were soon in possession of two or three empty +tar-barrels. A huge red glaring bonfire speedily arose close to the door +of the prison, sending up a tall column of smoke and flame against +its antique turrets and strongly-grated windows, and illuminating the +ferocious and wild gestures of the rioters who surrounded the place, as +well as the pale and anxious groups of those who, from windows in the +vicinage, watched the progress of this alarming scene. The mob fed the +fire with whatever they could find fit for the purpose. The flames +roared and crackled among the heaps of nourishment piled on the fire, +and a terrible shout soon announced that the door had kindled, and was +in the act of being destroyed. The fire was suffered to decay, but, long +ere it was quite extinguished, the most forward of the rioters rushed, +in their impatience, one after another, over its yet smouldering +remains. Thick showers of sparkles rose high in the air, as man after +man bounded over the glowing embers, and disturbed them in their +passage. It was now obvious to Butler, and all others who were present, +that the rioters would be instantly in possession of their victim, and +have it in their power to work their pleasure upon him, whatever that +might be. + +The unhappy object of this remarkable disturbance had been that day +delivered from the apprehension of a public execution, and his joy was +the greater, as he had some reason to question whether government would +have run the risk of unpopularity by interfering in his favour, after he +had been legally convicted by the verdict of a jury, of a crime so very +obnoxious. Relieved from this doubtful state of mind, his heart was +merry within him, and he thought, in the emphatic words of Scripture on +a similar occasion, that surely the bitterness of death was past. Some +of his friends, however, who had watched the manner and behaviour of +the crowd when they were made acquainted with the reprieve, were of a +different opinion. They augured, from the unusual sternness and silence +with which they bore their disappointment, that the populace nourished +some scheme of sudden and desperate vengeance; and they advised Porteous +to lose no time in petitioning the proper authorities, that he might +be conveyed to the Castle under a sufficient guard, to remain there +in security until his ultimate fate should be determined. Habituated, +however, by his office to overawe the rabble of the city, Porteous could +not suspect them of an attempt so audacious as to storm a strong and +defensible prison; and, despising the advice by which he might have +been saved, he spent the afternoon of the eventful day in giving an +entertainment to some friends who visited him in jail, several of whom, +by the indulgence of the Captain of the Tolbooth, with whom he had +an old intimacy, arising from their official connection, were even +permitted to remain to supper with him, though contrary to the rules of +the jail. + +It was, therefore, in the hour of unalloyed mirth, when this unfortunate +wretch was "full of bread," hot with wine, and high in mis-timed and +ill-grounded confidence, and, alas! with all his sins full blown, +when the first distant shouts of the rioters mingled with the song +of merriment and intemperance. The hurried call of the jailor to the +guests, requiring them instantly to depart, and his yet more hasty +intimation that a dreadful and determined mob had possessed themselves +of the city gates and guard-house, were the first explanation of these +fearful clamours. + +Porteous might, however, have eluded the fury from which the force of +authority could not protect him, had he thought of slipping on some +disguise, and leading the prison along with his guests. It is probable +that the jailor might have connived at his escape, or even that, in the +hurry of this alarming contingency, he might not have observed it. But +Porteous and his friends alike wanted presence of mind to suggest or +execute such a plan of escape. The former hastily fled from a place +where their own safety seemed compromised, and the latter, in a state +resembling stupefaction, awaited in his apartment the termination of the +enterprise of the rioters. The cessation of the clang of the instruments +with which they had at first attempted to force the door, gave him +momentary relief. The flattering hopes that the military had marched +into the city, either from the Castle or from the suburbs, and that the +rioters were intimidated and dispersing, were soon destroyed by the +broad and glaring-light of the flames, which, illuminating through the +grated window every corner of his apartment, plainly showed that the +mob, determined on their fatal purpose, had adopted a means of forcing +entrance equally desperate and certain. + +The sudden glare of light suggested to the stupefied and astonished +object of popular hatred the possibility of concealment or escape. To +rush to the chimney, to ascend it at the risk of suffocation, were the +only means which seem to have occurred to him; but his progress was +speedily stopped by one of those iron gratings, which are, for the sake +of security, usually placed across the vents of buildings designed for +imprisonment. The bars, however, which impeded his farther progress, +served to support him in the situation which he had gained, and he +seized them with the tenacious grasp of one who esteemed himself +clinging to his last hope of existence. The lurid light, which had +filled the apartment, lowered and died away; the sound of shouts was +heard within the walls, and on the narrow and winding stair, which, +cased within one of the turrets, gave access to the upper apartments of +the prison. The huzza of the rioters was answered by a shout wild and +desperate as their own, the cry, namely, of the imprisoned felons, who, +expecting to be liberated in the general confusion, welcomed the mob as +their deliverers. By some of these the apartment of Porteous was +pointed out to his enemies. The obstacle of the lock and bolts was +soon overcome, and from his hiding-place the unfortunate man heard +his enemies search every corner of the apartment, with oaths and +maledictions, which would but shock the reader if we recorded them, but +which served to prove, could it have admitted of doubt, the settled +purpose of soul with which they sought his destruction. + +A place of concealment so obvious to suspicion and scrutiny as that +which Porteous had chosen, could not long screen him from detection. +He was dragged from his lurking place, with a violence which seemed to +argue an intention to put him to death on the spot. More than one weapon +was directed towards him, when one of the rioters, the same whose female +disguise had been particularly noticed by Butler, interfered in an +authoritative tone. "Are ye mad?" he said, "or would ye execute an act +of justice as if it were a crime and a cruelty? This sacrifice will lose +half its savour if we do not offer it at the very horns of the altar. We +will have him die where a murderer should die, on the common gibbet--we +will have him die where he spilled the blood of so many innocents!" + +A loud shout of applause followed the proposal, and the cry, "To the +gallows with the murderer!--to the Grassmarket with him!" echoed on all +hands. + +"Let no man hurt him," continued the speaker; "let him make his peace +with God, if he can; we will not kill both his soul and body." + +"What time did he give better folk for preparing their account?" +answered several voices. "Let us mete to him with the same measure he +measured to them." + +But the opinion of the spokesman better suited the temper of those +he addressed, a temper rather stubborn than impetuous, sedate though +ferocious, and desirous of colouring their cruel and revengeful action +with a show of justice and moderation. + + SCOTT. + + +[Notes: _The Porteous Mob_ occurred in 1736. At the execution of a +smuggler named Wilson, a slight commotion amongst the crowd was made by +Captain Porteous the occasion for ordering his men who were on guard to +fire upon the people. He was tried and sentenced to death, but reprieved +by Queen Caroline, then regent in the absence of George II. The reprieve +was held so unjust by the people that they stormed the Tolbooth, and +hanged Porteous, who was a prisoner there.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +THE PORTEOUS MOB--_continued._ + +The tumult was now transferred from the inside to the outside of the +Tolbooth. The mob had brought their destined victim forth, and were +about to conduct him to the common place of execution, which they had +fixed as the scene of his death. The leader, whom they had distinguished +by the name of Madge Wildfire, had been summoned to assist at the +procession by the impatient shouts of his confederates. + +"I will ensure you five hundred pounds," said the unhappy man, grasping +Wildfire's hand,--"five hundred pounds for to save my life." + +The other answered in the same undertone, and returning his grasp with +one equally convulsive. "Five hundred-height of coined gold should not +save you--Remember Wilson!" + +A deep pause of a minute ensued, when Wildfire added, in a more composed +tone, "Make your peace with Heaven. Where is the clergyman?" + +Butler, who, in great terror and anxiety, had been detained within a +few yards of the Tolbooth door, to wait the event of the search after +Porteous, was now brought forward, and commanded to walk by the +prisoner's side, and to prepare him for immediate death. + +They had suffered the unfortunate Porteous to put on his night-gown +and slippers, as he had thrown off his coat and shoes, in order to +facilitate his attempted escape up the chimney. In this garb he was now +mounted on the hands of two of the rioters, clasped together, so as to +form what is called in Scotland, "The King's Cushion." Butler was placed +close to his side, and repeatedly urged to perform a duty always the +most painful which can be imposed on a clergyman deserving of the name, +and now rendered more so by the peculiar and horrid circumstances of the +criminal's case. Porteous at first uttered some supplications for mercy, +but when he found that there was no chance that these would be attended +to, his military education, and the natural stubbornness of his +disposition, combined to support his spirits. + +The procession now moved forward with a slow and determined pace. It was +enlightened by many blazing links and torches; for the actors of this +work were so far from affecting any secrecy on the occasion, that they +seemed even to court observation. Their principal leaders kept close to +the person of the prisoner, whose pallid yet stubborn features were seen +distinctly by the torch-light, as his person was raised considerably +above the concourse which thronged around him. Those who bore swords, +muskets, and battle-axes, marched on each side, as if forming a regular +guard to the procession. The windows, as they went along, were filled +with the inhabitants, whose slumbers had boon broken by this unusual +disturbance. Some of the spectators muttered accents of encouragement; +but in general they were so much appalled by a sight so strange and +audacious, that they looked on with a sort of stupefied astonishment. No +one offered, by act or word, the slightest interruption. + +The rioters, on their part, continued to act with the same air +of deliberate confidence and security which had marked all their +proceedings. When the object of their resentment dropped one of his +slippers, they stopped, sought for it, and replaced it upon his foot +with great deliberation. As they descended the Bow towards the fatal +spot where they designed to complete their purpose, it was suggested +that there should be a rope kept in readiness. For this purpose the +booth of a man who dealt in cordage was forced open, a coil of rope fit +for their purpose was selected to serve as a halter, and the dealer next +morning found that a guinea had been left on his counter in exchange; so +anxious were the perpetrators of this daring action to show that they +meditated not the slightest wrong or infraction of law, excepting so far +so as Porteous was himself concerned. + +Leading, or carrying along with them, in this determined and regular +manner, the object of their vengeance, they at length reached the place +of common execution, the scene of his crime, and destined spot of +his sufferings. Several of the rioters (if they should not rather be +described as conspirators) endeavoured to remove the stone which filled +up the socket in which the end of the fatal tree was sunk when it +was erected for its fatal purpose; others sought for the means of +constructing a temporary gibbet, the place in which the gallows itself +was deposited being reported too secure to be forced, without much loss +of time. Butler endeavoured to avail himself of the delay afforded by +these circumstances, to turn the people from their desperate design. +"For God's sake," he exclaimed, "remember it is the image of your +Creator which you are about to deface in the person of this unfortunate +man! Wretched as he is, and wicked as he may be, he has a share in every +promise of Scripture, and you cannot destroy him in impenitence without +blotting his name from the Book of Life--Do not destroy soul and body; +give time for preparation." + +"What time had they," returned a stern voice, "whom he murdered on this +very spot?--The laws both of God and man call for his death." + +"But what, my friends," insisted Butler, with a generous disregard to +his own safety--"what hath constituted you his judges?" + +"We are not his judges," replied the same person; "he has been already +judged and condemned by lawful authority. We are those whom Heaven, and +our righteous anger, have stirred up to execute judgment, when a corrupt +government would have protected a murderer." + +"I am none," said the unfortunate Porteous: "that which you charge upon me +fell out in self-defence, in the lawful exercise of my duty." + +"Away with him--away with him!" was the general cry. "Why do you trifle +away time in making a gallows?--that dyester's pole is good enough for +the homicide." + +The unhappy man was forced to his fate with remorseless rapidity. +Butler, separated from him by the press, escaped the last horrors of +his struggles. Unnoticed by those who had hitherto detained him as a +prisoner, he fled from the fatal spot, without much caring in what +direction his course lay. A loud shout proclaimed the stern delight with +which the agents of this deed regarded its completion. Butler, then, +at the opening into the low street called the Cowgate, cast back a +terrified glance, and, by the red and dusky light of the torches, he +could discern a figure wavering and struggling as it hung suspended +above the heads of the multitude, and could even observe men striking at +it with their Lochaberaxes and partisans. The sight was of a nature to +double his horror, and to add wings to his flight. + + SCOTT. + + + + + * * * * * + + + + + MAZEPPA. + + + "'Bring forth the horse!'--the horse was brought; + In truth, he was a noble steed, + A Tartar of the Ukraine breed, + Who look'd as though the speed of thought + Were in his limbs; but he was wild, + Wild as the wild deer, and untaught, + With spur and bridle undefiled-- + 'T was but a day he had been caught; + And snorting, with erected mane, + And struggling fiercely, but in vain, + In the full foam of wrath and dread + To me the desert-born was led: + They bound me on, that menial throng; + Upon his back with many a thong; + Then loosed him with a sudden lash-- + Away!--away!--and on we dash! + Torrents less rapid and less rash. + + * * * * * + + "Away, away, my steed and I, + Upon the pinions of the wind, + All human dwellings left behind; + We sped like meteors through the sky, + When with its crackling sound the night + Is chequer'd with the northern light: + Town--village--none were on our track. + But a wild plain of far extent, + And bounded by a forest black; + And, save the scarce seen battlement + On distant heights of some stronghold, + Against the Tartars built of old, + No trace of man. The year before + A Turkish army had march'd o'er; + And where the Spahi's hoof hath trod, + The verdure flies the bloody sod: + The sky was dull, and dim, and gray, + And a low breeze crept moaning by-- + I could have answered with a sigh-- + But fast we fled, away, away, + And I could neither sigh nor pray; + And my cold sweat-drops fell like rain + Upon the courser's bristling mane; + But, snorting still with rage and fear, + He flew upon his far career: + At times I almost thought, indeed, + He must have slacken'd in his speed; + But no--my bound and slender frame + Was nothing to his angry might, + And merely like a spur became; + Each motion which I made to free + My swoln limbs from their agony + Increased his fury and affright: + I tried my voice,--'t was faint and low. + But yet he swerved as from a blow; + And, starting to each accent, sprang + As from a sudden trumpet's clang: + Meantime my cords were wet with gore, + Which, oozing through my limbs, ran o'er; + And in my tongue the thirst became + A something fiercer far than flame. + + "We near'd the wild wood--'t was so wide, + I saw no bounds on either side; + 'T was studded with old sturdy trees, + That bent not to the roughest breeze + Which howls down from Siberia's waste, + And strips the forest in its haste,-- + But these were few and far between, + Set thick with shrubs more young and green. + Luxuriant with their annual leaves, + Ere strown by those autumnal eves + That nip the forest's foliage dead, + Discolour'd with a lifeless red, + Which stands thereon like stiffen'd gore + Upon the slain when battle's o'er, + And some long winter's night hath shed + Its frost o'er every tombless head, + So cold and stark the raven's beak + May peck unpierced each frozen cheek: + 'T was a wild waste of underwood, + And here and there a chestnut stood, + The strong oak, and the hardy pine; + But far apart--and well it were, + Or else a different lot were mine-- + The boughs gave way, and did not tear + My limbs; and I found strength to bear + My wounds, already scarr'd with cold; + My bonds forbade to loose my hold. + We rustled through the leaves like wind, + Left shrubs, and trees, and wolves behind; + By night I heard them on the track, + Their troop came hard upon our back, + With their long gallop, which can tire + The hound's deep hate, and hunter's fire: + Where'er we flew they follow'd on, + Nor left us with the morning sun. + Behind I saw them, scarce a rood, + At day-break winding through the wood, + And through the night had heard their feet + Their stealing, rustling step repeat. + + * * * * * + + "The wood was past; 'twas more than noon, + But chill the air, although in June; + Or it might be my veins ran cold-- + Prolong'd endurance tames the bold; + And I was then not what I seem, + But headlong as a wintry stream, + And wore my feelings out before + I well could count their causes o'er: + And what with fury, fear, and wrath, + The tortures which beset my path, + Cold, hunger, sorrow, shame, distress. + Thus bound in nature's nakedness; + Sprung from a race whose rising blood, + When stirr'd beyond its calmer mood, + And trodden hard upon, is like + The rattle-snake's, in act to strike, + What marvel if this worn-out trunk + Beneath its woes a moment sunk? + The earth gave way, the skies roll'd round. + I seem'd to sink upon the ground; + But err'd, for I was fastly bound. + My heart turn'd sick, my brain grew sore. + And throbb'd awhile, then beat no more: + The skies spun like a mighty wheel; + I saw the trees like drunkards reel + And a slight flash sprang o'er my eyes, + Which saw no farther: he who dies + Can die no more than then I died. + O'ertortured by that ghastly ride, + I felt the blackness come and go. + + "My thoughts came back; where was I? + Cold, + And numb, and giddy: pulse by pulse + Life reassumed its lingering hold, + And throb by throb,--till grown a pang + Which for a moment would convulse, + My blood reflow'd, though thick and chill; + My ear with uncouth noises rang, + My heart began once more to thrill; + My sight return'd, though dim; alas! + And thicken'd, as it were, with glass. + Methought the dash of waves was nigh; + There was a gleam too of the sky, + Studded with stars;--it is no dream; + The wild horse swims the wilder stream! + The bright broad river's gushing tide + Sleeps, winding onward, far and wide, + And we are half-way, struggling o'er + To yon unknown and silent shore. + The waters broke my hollow trance, + And with a temporary strength + My stiffen'd limbs were rebaptized. + My courser's broad breast proudly braves, + And dashes off the ascending waves. + We reach the slippery shore at length, + A haven I but little prized, + For all behind was dark and drear, + And all before was night and fear. + How many hours of night or day + In those suspended pangs I lay. + I could not tell; I scarcely knew + If this were human breath I drew. + + "With glossy skin and dripping mane, + And reeling limbs, and reeking flank, + The wild steed's sinewy nerves still strain + Up the repelling bank. + We gain the top: a boundless plain + Spreads through the shadow of the night, + And onward, onward, onward, seems, + Like precipices in our dreams + To stretch beyond the sight: + And here and there a speck of white, + Or scatter'd spot of dusky green. + In masses broke into the light. + As rose the moon upon my right: + But nought distinctly seen + In the dim waste would indicate + The omen of a cottage gate; + No twinkling taper from afar + Stood like a hospitable star: + Not even an ignis-fatuus rose + To make him merry with my woes: + That very cheat had cheer'd me then! + Although detected, welcome still, + Reminding me, through every ill, + Of the abodes of men. + + "Onward we went--but slack and slow; + His savage force at length o'erspent, + The drooping courser, faint and low, + All feebly foaming went. + A sickly infant had had power + To guide him forward in that hour; + But useless all to me: + His new-born tameness nought avail'd-- + My limbs were bound; my force had fail'd, + Perchance, had they been free. + With feeble effort still I tried + To rend the bonds so starkly tied, + But still it was in vain; + My limbs were only wrung the more, + And soon the idle strife gave o'er, + Which but prolonged their pain: + The dizzy race seem'd almost done, + Although no goal was nearly won: + Rome streaks announced the coming sun-- + How slow, alas! he came! + Methought that mist of dawning gray + Would never dapple into day; + How heavily it roll'd away-- + Before the eastern flame + Rose crimson, and deposed the stars, + And call'd the radiance from their cars, + And fill'd the earth, from his deep throne. + "Up rose the sun; the mists were curl'd + Back from the solitary world + Which lay around, behind, before. + What booted it to traverse o'er + Plain, forest, river? Man nor brute, + Nor dint of hoof, nor print of foot, + Lay in the wild luxuriant soil; + No sign of travel, none of toil; + The very air was mute; + And not an insect's shrill small horn. + Nor matin bird's new voice was borne + From herb nor thicket. Many a werst, + Panting as if his heart would burst. + The weary brute still stagger'd on: + And still we were--or seem'd--alone. + At length, while reeling on our way. + Methought I heard a courser neigh, + From out yon tuft of blackening firs. + Is it the wind those branches stirs? + No, no! from out the forest prance + A trampling troop; I see them come! + In one vast squadron they advance! + I strove to cry--my lips were dumb. + The steeds rush on in plunging pride; + But where are they the reins to guide + A thousand horse, and none to ride! + With flowing tail, and flying mane, + Wide nostrils never stretch'd by pain, + Mouths bloodless to the bit of rein, + And feet that iron never shod, + And flanks unscarr'd by spur or rod, + A thousand horse, the wild, the free, + Like waves that follow o'er the sea, + Came thickly thundering on, + As if our faint approach to meet; + The sight re-nerved my courser's feet, + A moment staggering, feebly fleet, + A moment, with a faint low neigh, + He answer'd, and then fell; + With gasps and glaring eyes he lay, + And reeking limbs immoveable, + His first and last career is done! + On came the troop--they saw him stoop, + They saw me strangely bound along + His back with many a bloody thong: + They stop, they start, they snuff the air, + Gallop a moment here and there, + Approach, retire, wheel round and round, + Then plunging back with sudden bound, + Headed by one black mighty steed, + Who seem'd the patriarch of his breed, + Without a single speck or hair + Of white upon his shaggy hide; + They snort, they foam, neigh, swerve aside. + And backward to the forest fly, + By instinct, from a human eye. + They left me there to my despair, + Link'd to the dead and stiffening wretch, + Whose lifeless limbs beneath me stretch, + Believed from that unwonted weight, + From whence I could not extricate + Nor him nor me--and there we lay, + The dying on the dead! + I little deem'd another day + Would see my houseless, helpless head. + + BYRON. + + + +[Notes: _Mazeppa_ (1645-1709) was at first in the service of the King +of Poland, but on account of a charge brought against him suffered the +penalty described in the poem. He afterwards joined the Cossacks and +became their leader; was in favour for a time with Peter the Great; but +finally joined Charles XII., and died soon after the battle of Pultowa +(1709), in which Charles was defeated by Peter. + + +_Ukraine_ ("a frontier"), a district lying on the borders of Poland and +Russia. + + +_Werst_. A Russian measure of distance.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +JOSIAH WEDGWOOD. + + +We make our first introduction to Wedgwood about the year 1741, as the +youngest of a family of thirteen children, and as put to earn his bread, +at eleven years of age, in the trade of his father, and in the branch +of a thrower. Then comes the well-known small-pox: the settling of the +dregs of the disease in the lower part of the leg: and the amputation of +the limb, rendering him lame for life. It is not often that we have such +palpable occasion to record our obligations to the small-pox. But, in +the wonderful ways of Providence, that disease, which came to him as +a two-fold scourge, was probably the occasion of his subsequent +excellence. It prevented him from growing up to the active vigorous +English workman, possessed of all his limbs, and knowing right well the +use of them; it put him upon considering whether, as he could not be +that, he might not be something else, and something greater. It sent his +mind inwards; it drove him to meditate upon the laws and secrets of his +art. The result was, that he arrived at a perception and a grasp of them +which might, perhaps, have been envied, certainly have been owned, by an +Athenian potter. Relentless criticism has long since torn to pieces the +old legend of King Numa, receiving in a cavern, from the Nymph Egeria, +the laws that were to govern Rome. But no criticism can shake the record +of that illness and mutilation of the boy Josiah Wedgwood, which made +for him a cavern of his bedroom, and an oracle of his own inquiring, +searching, meditative, and fruitful mind. + +From those early days of suffering, weary perhaps to him as they went +by, but bright surely in the retrospect both to him and us, a mark seems +at once to have been set upon his career. But those, who would dwell +upon his history, have still to deplore that many of the materials are +wanting. It is not creditable to his country or his art, that the Life +of Wedgwood should still remain unwritten. Here is a man, who, in the +well-chosen words of his epitaph, "converted a rude and inconsiderable +manufacture into an elegant art, and an important branch of national +commerce." Here is a man, who, beginning as it were from zero, and +unaided by the national or royal gifts which were found necessary to +uphold the glories of Sèvres, of Chelsea, and of Dresden, produced works +truer, perhaps, to the inexorable laws of art, than the fine fabrics +that proceeded from those establishments, and scarcely less attractive +to the public taste. Here is a man, who found his business cooped up +within a narrow valley by the want of even tolerable communications, +and who, while he devoted his mind to the lifting that business from +meanness, ugliness, and weakness, to the highest excellence of material +and form, had surplus energy enough to take a leading part in great +engineering works like the Grand Trunk Canal from the Mersey to the +Trent; which made the raw material of his industry abundant and cheap, +which supplied a vent for the manufactured article, and opened for it +materially a way to the outer world. Lastly, here is a man who found +his country dependent upon others for its supplies of all the finer +earthenware; but who, by his single strength, reversed the inclination +of the scales, and scattered thickly the productions of his factory over +all the breadth of the continent of Europe. In travelling from Paris to +St. Petersburg, from Amsterdam to the furthest point of Sweden, from +Dunkirk to the southern extremity of France, one is served at every inn +from English earthenware. The same article adorns the tables of Spain, +Portugal, and Italy; it provides the cargoes of ships to the East +Indies, the West Indies, and America. + + _Speech by_ MR. GLADSTONE. + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +THE CRIMEAN WAR. + + +There is one point upon which I could have wished that the noble Lord +had also touched--I know there were so many subjects that he could +not avoid touching that I share the admiration of the House at the +completeness with which he seemed to have mastered all his themes; but +when the noble Lord recalled to our recollection the deeds of admirable +valour and of heroic conduct which have been achieved upon the heights +of Alma, of Balaklava, and of Inkermann, I could have wished that he had +also publicly recognized that the deeds of heroism in this campaign had +not been merely confined to the field of battle. We ought to remember +the precious lives given to the pestilence of Varna and to the +inhospitable shores of the Black Sea; these men, in my opinion, were +animated by as heroic a spirit as those who have yielded up their lives +amid the flash of artillery and the triumphant sound of trumpets. No, +Sir, language cannot do justice to the endurance of our troops under the +extreme and terrible privations which circumstances have obliged them to +endure. The high spirit of an English gentleman might have sustained him +under circumstances which he could not have anticipated to encounter; +but the same proud patience has been found among the rank and file. And +it is these moral qualities that have contributed as much as others +apparently more brilliant to those great victories which we are now +acknowledging. + +Sir, the noble Lord has taken a wise and gracious course in combining +with the thanks which he is about to propose to the British army and +navy the thanks also of the House of Commons to the army of our allies. +Sir, that alliance which has now for some time prevailed between the two +great countries of France and Britain has in peace been productive +of advantage, but it is the test to which it has been put by recent +circumstances that, in my opinion, will tend more than any other cause +to confirm and consolidate that intimate union. That alliance, Sir, is +one that does not depend upon dynasties or diplomacy. It is one which +has been sanctioned by names to which we all look up with respect or +with feelings even of a higher character. The alliance between France +and England was inaugurated by the imperial mind of Elizabeth, and +sanctioned by the profound sagacity of Cromwell; it exists now not more +from feelings of mutual interest than from feelings of mutual respect, +and I believe it will be maintained by a noble spirit of emulation. + +Sir, there is still another point upon which, although with hesitation, +I will advert for a moment. I am distrustful of my own ability to deal +becomingly with a theme on which the noble Lord so well touched; but +nevertheless I feel that I must refer to it. I was glad to hear from +the noble Lord that he intends to propose a vote of condolence with the +relatives of those who have fallen in this contest. Sir, we have already +felt, even in this chamber of public assemblage, how bitter have +been the consequences of this war. We cannot throw our eyes over the +accustomed benches, where we miss many a gallant and genial face, +without feeling our hearts ache, our spirits sadden, and even our +eyes moisten. But if that be our feeling here when we miss the long +companions of our public lives and labours, what must be the anguish +and desolation which now darken so many hearths! Never, Sir, has the +youthful blood of this country been so profusely lavished as it has been +in this contest,--never has a greater sacrifice been made, and for ends +which more fully sanctify the sacrifice. But we can hardly hope now, in +the greenness of the wound, that even these reflections can serve as a +source of solace. Young women who have become widows almost as soon as +they had become wives--mothers who have lost not only their sons, but +the brethren of those sons--heads of families who have seen abruptly +close all their hopes of an hereditary line--these are pangs which even +the consciousness of duty performed, which even the lustre of glory won, +cannot easily or speedily alleviate and assuage. But let us indulge at +least in the hope, in the conviction, that the time will come when +the proceedings of this evening may be to such persons a source of +consolation--when sorrow for the memory of those that are departed may +be mitigated by the recollection that their death is at least associated +with imperishable deeds, with a noble cause, and with a nation's +gratitude. + + _Speech by_ MR. DISRAELI. + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +NATIONAL MORALITY. + + +I believe there is no permanent greatness to a nation except it be based +upon morality. I do not care for military greatness or military renown. +I care for the condition of the people among whom I live. There is no +man in England who is less likely to speak irreverently of the Crown and +Monarchy of England than I am; but crowns, coronets, mitres, military +display, the pomp of war, wide colonies, and a huge empire, are, in my +view, all trifles light as air, and not worth considering, unless with +them you can have a fair share of comfort, contentment, and happiness +among the great body of the people. Palaces, baronial castles, great +halls, stately mansions, do not make a nation. The nation in every +country dwells in the cottage; and unless the light of your Constitution +can shine there, unless the beauty of your legislation and the +excellence of your statesmanship are impressed there on the feelings and +condition of the people, rely upon it you have yet to learn the duties +of government. + +I have not, as you have observed, pleaded that this country should +remain without adequate and scientific means of defence. I acknowledge +it to be the duty of your statesmen, acting upon the known opinions and +principles of ninety-nine out of every hundred persons in the country, +at all times, with all possible moderation, but with all possible +efficiency, to take steps which shall preserve order within and on +the confines of your kingdom. But I shall repudiate and denounce +the expenditure of every shilling, the engagement of every man, the +employment of every ship which has no object but intermeddling in the +affairs of other countries, and endeavouring to extend the boundaries +of an Empire which is already large enough to satisfy the greatest +ambition, and I fear is much too large for the highest statesmanship to +which any man has yet attained. + +The most ancient of profane historians has told us that the Scythians +of his time were a very warlike people, and that they elevated an old +cimeter upon a platform as a symbol of Mars, for to Mars alone, I +believe, they built altars and offered sacrifices. To this cimeter they +offered sacrifices of horses and cattle, the main wealth of the country, +and more costly sacrifices than to all the rest of their gods. I often +ask myself whether we are at all advanced in one respect beyond those +Scythians. What are our contributions to charity, to education, to +morality, to religion, to justice, and to civil government, when +compared with the wealth we expend in sacrifices to the old cimeter? Two +nights ago I addressed in this hall a vast assembly composed to a great +extent of your countrymen who have no political power, who are at work +from the dawn of the day to the evening, and who have therefore limited +means of informing themselves on these great subjects. Now I am +privileged to speak to a somewhat different audience. You represent +those of your great community who have a more complete education, who +have on some points greater intelligence, and in whose hands reside the +power and influence of the district. I am speaking, too, within the +hearing of those whose gentle nature, whose finer instincts, whose purer +minds, have not suffered as some of us have suffered in the turmoil +and strife of life. You can mould opinion, you can create political +power,--you cannot think a good thought on this subject and communicate +it to your neighbours,--you cannot make these points topics of +discussion in your social circles and more general meetings, without +affecting sensibly and speedily the course which the Government of your +country will pursue. May I ask you, then, to believe, as I do most +devoutly believe, that the moral law was not written for men alone in +their individual character, but that it was written as well for nations, +and for nations great as this of which we are citizens. If nations +reject and deride that moral law, there is a penalty which will +inevitably follow. It may not come at once, it may not come in our +lifetime; but, rely upon it, the great Italian is not a poet only, but a +prophet, when he says-- + + "The sword of heaven is not in haste to smite, + Nor yet doth linger." + +We have experience, we have beacons, we have landmarks enough. We +know what the past has cost us, we know how much and how far we have +wandered, but we are not left without a guide. It is true, we have not, +as an ancient people had, Urim and Thummim--those oraculous gems on +Aaron's breast--from which to take counsel, but we have the unchangeable +and eternal principles of the moral law to guide us, and only so far as +we walk by that guidance can we be permanently a great nation, or our +people a happy people. + + _Speech by_ MR. BRIGHT. + + + + + * * * * * + + + + + HYMN TO DIANA. + + + Queen and huntress, chaste and fair, + Now the sun is laid to sleep, + Seated in thy silver chair. + State in wonted manner keep. + Hesperus entreats thy light, + Goddess excellently bright! + + Earth, let not thy envious shade + Dare itself to interpose; + Cynthia's shining orb was made + Heaven to clear, when day did close. + Bless us then with wishèd sight, + Goddess excellently bright! + + Lay thy bow of pearl apart, + And thy crystal-shining quiver: + Give unto the flying hart + Space to breathe how short soever; + Thou that mak'st a day of night, + Goddess excellently bright! + + BEN JONSON. + + + +[Notes: _Ben Jonson_ (1574-1637), poet and dramatist; the contemporary +and friend of Shakespeare, with more than his learning, but far less +than his genius and imagination.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + + L'ALLEGRO. + + + Hence, loathed Melancholy, + Of Cerberus and blackest midnight born, + In Stygian cave forlorn, + 'Mongst horrid shapes, and shrieks, and sights + unholy! + Find out some uncouth cell, + Where brooding darkness spreads his jealous wings, + And the night-raven sings; + There, under ebon shades, and low-brow'd rocks, + As ragged as thy locks, + In dark Cimmerian desert ever dwell. + But come, thou goddess fair and free, + In heaven yclep'd Euphrosyne, + And by men, heart-easing Mirth; + Whom lovely Venus, at a birth, + With two sister Graces more, + To ivy-crowned Bacchus bore: + + * * * * * + + Haste thee, nymph, and bring with thee + Jest, and youthful jollity, + Quips, and cranks, and wanton wiles, + Nods, and becks, and wreathed smiles, + Such as hang on Hebe's cheek, + And love to live in dimple sleek; + Sport that wrinkled care derides, + And laughter holding both his sides. + Come, and trip it, as you go, + On the light fantastic toe; + And in thy right hand lead with thee + The mountain-nymph, sweet Liberty; + And, if I give thee honour due, + Mirth, admit me of thy crew, + To live with her, and live with thee, + In unreproved pleasures free; + To hear the Lark begin his flight, + And singing startle the dull night, + From his watch-tower in the skies, + Till the dappled dawn doth rise; + Then to come, in spite of sorrow, + And at my window bid good-morrow, + Through the sweet-briar, or the vine, + Or the twisted eglantine: + While the cock, with lively din, + Scatters the rear of darkness thin, + And to the stack, or the barn-door, + Stoutly struts his dames before: + Oft listening how the hounds and horn + Cheerly rouse the slumbering morn, + From the side of some hoar hill, + Through the high wood echoing shrill. + Sometime walking, not unseen, + By hedge-row elms, on hillocks green, + Right against the eastern gate, + Where the great sun begins his state, + Rob'd in flames, and amber light, + The clouds in thousand liveries dight; + While the ploughman, near at hand, + Whistles o'er the furrow'd land, + And the milkmaid singeth blithe, + And the mower whets his scythe, + And every shepherd tells his tale, + Under the hawthorn in the dale. + Straight mine eye hath caught new pleasures, + While the landscape round it measures; + Russet lawns, and fallows gray, + Where the nibbling flocks do stray + Mountains, on whose barren breast, + The labouring clouds do often rest; + Meadows trim with daisies pied, + Shallow brooks, and rivers wide; + Towers and battlements it sees + Bosom'd high in tufted trees, + Where perhaps some beauty lies, + The cynosure of neighbouring eyes. + Hard by, a cottage chimney smokes + From betwixt two aged oaks, + Where Corydon and Thyrsis met, + Are at their savoury dinner set + Of herbs, and other country messes, + Which the neat-handed Phillis dresses; + And then in haste her bower she leaves, + With Thestylis to bind the sheaves; + Or, if the earlier season lead, + To the tann'd haycock in the mead. + Sometimes with secure delight + The upland hamlets will invite, + When the merry bells ring round, + And the jocund rebecks sound + To many a youth and many a maid, + Dancing in the checker'd shade; + And young and old come forth to play + On a sun-shine holy-day, + Till the live-long day-light fail: + Then to the spicy nut-brown ale, + With stories told of many a feat, + How faery Mab the junkets eat; + She was pinch'd, and pull'd, she said; + And he, by friar's lantern led. + Tells how the drudging goblin sweat + To earn his cream-bowl duly set, + When in one night, ere glimpse of morn, + His shadowy flail hath thresh'd the corn, + That ten day-labourers could not end; + Then lies him down the lubber fiend, + And, stretch'd out all the chimney's length, + Basks at the fire his hairy strength; + And crop-full out of door he flings, + Ere the first cock his matin rings. + Thus done the tales, to bed they creep, + By whispering winds soon lull'd asleep. + Tower'd cities please us then, + And the busy hum of men, + Where throngs of knights and barons bold, + In weeds of peace high triumphs hold. + With store of ladies, whose bright eyes + Rain influence, and judge the prize + Of wit or arms, while both contend + To win her grace, whom all commend. + There let Hymen oft appear + In saffron robe, with taper clear, + And pomp, and feast, and revelry, + With mask and antique pageantry. + Such sights, as youthful poets dream + On summer eves by haunted stream. + Then to the well-trod stage anon, + If Jonson's learned sock be on. + Or sweetest Shakspeare, Fancy's child, + Warble his native wood-notes wild. + And ever, against eating cares, + Lap me in soft Lydian airs, + Married to immortal verse; + Such as the meeting soul may pierce, + In notes, with many a winding bout + Of linked sweetness long drawn out, + With wanton heed and giddy cunning, + The melting voice through mazes running, + Untwisting all the chains that tie + The hidden soul of harmony; + That Orpheus' self may heave his head + From golden slumber on a bed + Of heap'd Elysian flowers, and hear + Such strains as would have won the ear + Of Pluto, to have quite set free + His half-regain'd Eurydice. + These delights if thou canst give, + Mirth, with thee I mean to live. + + MILTON. + + + +[Notes: _L'Allegro_ the Cheerful man: as Il Penseroso, the Thoughtful +man, (the title of the companion poem). + + + _Cerberus_. The dog that guarded the infernal regions. + + +_Cimmerian_. The Cimmerians were a race dwelling beyond the ocean +stream, in utter darkness. + + +_Euphrosyne_ Mirth or gladness. + + +_In unreproved pleasures_ = In innocent pleasures. + + +_Then to come_ = Then (admit me) to come. + + +_Corydon and Thyrsis_. Names for a rustic couple taken from the +mythology of the Latin poets. So _Phillis and Thestylis_. + + +_Rebecks_. Musical instruments like fiddles. + + +_Junkets_. Pieces of cheese or something of the kind. + + +_By friar's lantern_ = Jack o' Lantern or Will o' the Wisp. + + +_In weeds of peace_ = the dress worn in time of peace. + + +_Hymen_. God of wedlock. + + +_Jonson_. (See previous note to _Ben Jonson_.) + + +_Sock_. The shoe worn on the ancient stage by comedians as the buskin +was by tragedians. + + +_Lydian airs_. Soft and soothing, as opposed to the Dorian airs, which +expressed the rough and harsh element in ancient music.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +THE PLEASURES OF A LIFE OF LABOUR. + + +I wish to show you how possible it is to enjoy much happiness in very +mean employments. Cowper tells us that labour, though the primal curse, +"has been softened into mercy;" and I think that, even had he not done +so, I would have found out the fact for myself. It was twenty years +last February since I set out a little before sunrise to make my first +acquaintance with a life of labour and restraint, and I have rarely had +a heavier heart than on that morning. I was but a thin, loose-jointed +boy at the time--fond of the pretty intangibilities of romance, and of +dreaming when broad awake; and, woful change! I was now going to work +at what Burns has instanced in his "Twa Dogs" as one of the most +disagreeable of all employments--to work in a quarry. Bating the passing +uneasiness occasioned by a few gloomy anticipations, the portion of my +life which had already gone by had been happy beyond the common lot. I +had been a wanderer among rocks and wood--a reader of curious books when +I could get them--a gleaner of old traditionary stories; and now I was +going to exchange all my day-dreams, and all my amusements, for the kind +of life in which men toil every day that they may be enabled to eat, and +eat every day that they may be enabled to toil! + +The quarry in which I wrought lay on the southern side of a noble inland +bay, or frith rather, with a little clear stream on the one side, and a +thick fir wood on the other. It had been opened in the old red sandstone +of the district, and was overtopped by a huge bank of diluvial clay, +which rose over it in some places to the height of nearly thirty feet, +and which at this time was rent and shivered, wherever it presented an +open front to the weather, by a recent frost. A heap of loose fragments, +which had fallen from above blocked up the face of the quarry, and my +first employment was to clear them away. The friction of the shovel soon +blistered my hands, but the pain was by no means very severe, and I +wrought hard and willingly, that I might see how the huge strata below, +which presented so firm and unbroken a frontage, were to be torn up +and removed. Picks, and wedges, and levers, were applied by my brother +workmen; and simple and rude as I had been accustomed to regard these +implements, I found I had much to learn in the way of using them. They +all proved inefficient, however, and the workmen had to bore into one of +the inferior strata, and employ gunpowder. The process was new to me, +and I deemed it a highly-amusing one: it had the merit, too, of being +attended with some such degree of danger as a boating or rock excursion, +and had thus an interest independent of its novelty. We had a few +capital shots: the fragments flew in every direction; and an immense +mass of the diluvium came toppling down, bearing with it two dead birds, +that in a recent storm had crept into one of the deeper fissures, to die +in the shelter. I felt a new interest in examining them. The one was a +pretty cock goldfinch, with its hood of vermilion, and its wings inlaid +with the gold to which it owes its name, as unsoiled and smooth as if it +had been preserved for a museum. The other, a somewhat rarer bird, of +the woodpecker tribe, was variegated with light blue and a grayish +yellow. I was engaged in admiring the poor little things, more disposed +to be sentimental, perhaps, than if I had been ten years older, and +thinking of the contrast between the warmth and jollity of their green +summer haunts and the cold and darkness of their last retreat, when I +heard our employer bidding the workmen lay by their tools. I looked up, +and saw the sun sinking behind the thick fir-wood beside us, and the +long dark shadows of the trees stretching downwards towards the shore. + +This was no very formidable beginning of the course of life I had so +much dreaded. To be sure, my hands were a little sore, and I felt nearly +as much fatigued as if I had been climbing among the rocks; but I had +wrought and been useful, and had yet enjoyed the day fully as much as +usual. It was no small matter, too, that the evening, converted by a +rare transmutation into the delicious "blink of rest," which Burns so +truthfully describes, was all my own. I was as light of heart next +morning as any of my fellow-workmen. There had been a smart frost during +the night, and the rime lay white on the grass as we passed onwards +through the fields; but the sun rose in a clear atmosphere, and the day +mellowed, as it advanced, into one of those delightful days of early +spring which give so pleasing an earnest of whatever is mild and genial +in the better half of the year! All the workmen rested at mid-day, and +I went to enjoy my half-hour alone on a mossy knoll in the neighbouring +wood, which commands through the trees a wide prospect of the bay and +the opposite shore. There was not a wrinkle on the water, nor a cloud in +the sky, and the branches were as moveless in the calm as if they had +been traced on canvas. From a wooded promontory that stretched half-way +across the frith, there ascended a thin column of smoke. It rose +straight as the line of a plummet for more than a thousand yards, and +then, on reaching a thinner stratum of air, spread out equally on every +side like the foliage of a stately tree. Ben Wyvis rose to the west, +white with the yet unwasted snows of winter, and as sharply defined +in the clear atmosphere as if all its sunny slopes and blue retiring +hollows had been chiselled in marble. A line of snow ran along the +opposite hills; all above was white, and all below was purple. They +reminded me of the pretty French story, in which an old artist is +described as tasking the ingenuity of his future son-in-law by giving +him as a subject for his pencil a flower-piece composed of only white +flowers, of which the one-half were to bear their proper colour, the +other half a deep purple hue, and yet all be perfectly natural; and +how the young man resolved the riddle, and gained his mistress, by +introducing a transparent purple vase into the picture, and making the +light pass through it on the flowers that were drooping over the edge. I +returned to the quarry, convinced that a very exquisite pleasure may be +a very cheap one, and that the busiest employments may afford leisure +enough to enjoy it. + +The gunpowder had loosened a large mass in one of the inferior strata, +and our first employment, on resuming our labours, was to raise it from +its bed. I assisted the other workmen in placing it on edge, and was +much struck by the appearance of the platform on which it had rested. +The entire surface was ridged and furrowed like a bank of sand that +had been left by the tide an hour before. I could trace every bend and +curvature, every cross-hollow and counter-ridge of the corresponding +phenomena; for the resemblance was no half-resemblance--it was the +thing itself; and I had observed it a hundred and a hundred times when +sailing my little schooner in the shallows left by the ebb. But what had +become of the waves that had thus fretted the solid rock, or of what +element had they been composed? I felt as completely at fault as +Robinson Crusoe did on his discovering the print of the man's foot on +the sand. The evening furnished me with still further cause of wonder. +We raised another block in a different part of the quarry, and found +that the area of a circular depression in the stratum below was broken +and flawed in every direction, as if it had been the bottom of a pool, +recently dried up, which had shrunk and split in the hardening. Several +large stones came rolling down from the diluvium in the course of the +afternoon. They were of different qualities from the sandstone below, +and from one another; and, what was more wonderful still, they were all +rounded and water-worn, as if they had been tossed about in the sea, or +the bed of a river, for hundreds of years. There could not, surely, be +a more conclusive proof that the bank which had enclosed them so long +could not have been created on the rock on which it rested. No workman +ever manufactures a half-worn article, and the stones were all +half-worn! And if not the bank, why then the sandstone underneath? I +was lost in conjecture, and found I had food enough for thought that +evening, without once thinking of the unhappiness of a life of labour. + + HUGH MILLER. + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +THE FLIGHT OF BIRDS. + + +A good ornithologist should be able to distinguish birds by their air, +as well as by their colours and shape, on the ground as well as on the +wing, and in the bush as well as in the hand. For, though it must not be +said that every species of birds has a manner peculiar to itself, +yet there is somewhat in most kinds at least that at first sight +discriminates them, and enables a judicious observer to pronounce upon +them with some certainty. + +Thus, kites and buzzards sail round in circles, with wings expanded and +motionless; and it is from their gliding manner that the former are +still called, in the north of England, gleads, from the Saxon verb +_glidan_, to glide. The kestrel, or windhover, has a peculiar mode of +hanging in the air in one place, his wings all the while being briskly +agitated. Hen-harriers fly low over heaths or fields of corn, and beat +the ground regularly like a pointer or setting-dog. Owls move in a +buoyant manner, as if lighter than the air; they seem to want ballast. +There is a peculiarity belonging to ravens that must draw the attention +even of the most incurious--they spend all their leisure time in +striking and cuffing each other on the wing in a kind of playful +skirmish; and when they move from one place to another, frequently turn +on their backs with a loud croak, and seem to be falling on the ground. +When this odd gesture betides them, they are scratching themselves with +one foot, and thus lose the centre of gravity. Rooks sometimes dive and +tumble in a frolicsome manner; crows and daws swagger in their walk; +woodpeckers fly with an undulating motion, opening and closing their +wings at every stroke, and so are always rising and falling in curves. +All of this kind use their tails, which incline downwards, as a support +while they run up trees. Parrots, like all other hooked-clawed birds, +walk awkwardly, and make use of their bill as a third foot, climbing +and descending with ridiculous caution. Cocks, hens, partridges, and +pheasants, etc., parade and walk gracefully, and run nimbly; but fly +with difficulty, with an impetuous whirring, and in a straight line. +Magpies and jays flutter with powerless wings, and make no dispatch; +herons seem encumbered with too much sail for their light bodies; but +these vast hollow wings are necessary in carrying burdens, such as large +fishes, and the like; pigeons, and particularly the sort called smiters, +have a way of clashing their wings, the one against the other, over +their backs, with a loud snap; another variety, called tumblers, turn +themselves over in the air. The kingfisher darts along like an arrow; +fern-owls, or goat-suckers, glance in the dusk over the tops of trees +like a meteor; starlings, as it were, swim along, while missel-thrushes +use a wild and desultory flight; swallows sweep over the surface of the +ground and water, and distinguish themselves by rapid turns and quick +evolutions; swifts dash round in circles; and the bank-martin moves with +frequent vacillations, like a butterfly. Most of the small birds fly by +jerks, rising and falling as they advance. Most small birds hop; but +wagtails and larks walk, moving their legs alternately. Skylarks rise +and fall perpendicularly as they sing; woodlarks hang poised in the air; +and titlarks rise and fall in large curves, singing in their descent. +The white-throat uses odd jerks and gesticulations over the tops of +hedges and bushes. All the duck kind waddle; divers and auks walk as if +fettered, and stand erect on their tails. Geese and cranes, and most +wild fowls, move in figured flights, often changing their position. +Dabchicks, moorhens, and coots, fly erect, with their legs hanging down, +and hardly make any dispatch; the reason is plain, their wings are +placed too forward out of the true centre of gravity, as the legs of +auks and divers are situated too backward. + + REV. GILBERT WHITE. + + + + + * * * * * + + + + + THE VILLAGE. + + + Sweet was the sound, when oft at evening's close + Up yonder hill the village murmur rose. + There as I past with careless steps and slow, + The mingling notes came softened from below; + The swain responsive as the milk-maid sung, + The sober herd that lowed to meet their young, + The noisy geese that gabbled o'er the pool, + The playful children just let loose from school, + The watch-dog's voice that bayed the whispering wind, + And the loud laugh that spoke the vacant mind; + These all in sweet confusion sought the shade, + And filled each pause the nightingale had made. + But now the sounds of population fail, + No cheerful murmurs fluctuate in the gale, + No busy steps the grass-grown foot-way tread, + For all the bloomy flush of life is fled. + All but yon widowed, solitary thing, + That feebly bends beside the plashing spring: + She, wretched matron, forced in age, for bread, + To strip the brook with mantling cresses spread, + To pick her wintry faggot from the thorn, + To seek her nightly shed, and weep till mom; + She only left of all the harmless train, + The sad historian of the pensive plain. + Near yonder copse, where once the garden smiled, + And still, where many a garden-flower grows wild; + There, where a few torn shrubs the place disclose, + The village preacher's modest mansion rose, + A man he was to all the country dear, + And passing rich with forty pounds a year; + Remote from towns he ran his godly race, + Nor e'er had changed, nor wished to change his place; + Unpractised he to fawn, or seek for power, + By doctrines fashioned to the varying hour; + Far other aims his heart had learned to prize, + More skilled to raise the wretched than to rise. + His house was known to all the vagrant train; + He chid their wanderings, but relieved their pain; + The long-remember'd beggar was his guest, + Whose beard descending swept his aged breast, + The ruined spendthrift, now no longer proud, + Claimed kindred there, and had his claims allowed; + The broken soldier, kindly bade to stay, + Sat by his fire, and talked the night away. + Wept o'er his wounds or tales of sorrow done, + Shouldered his crutch, and showed how fields were won. + Pleased with his guests, the good man learned to glow, + And quite forgot their vices in their woe; + Careless their merits or their faults to scan, + His pity gave ere charity began. + Thus to relieve the wretched was his pride, + And e'en his failings leaned to virtue's side; + But in his duty prompt at every call, + He watched and wept, he prayed and felt for all; + And, as a bird each fond endearment tries + To tempt its new-fledged offspring to the skies, + He tried each art, reproved each dull delay, + Allured to brighter worlds, and led the way. + Beside the bed where parting life was laid, + And sorrow, guilt, and pain, by turns dismayed, + The reverend champion stood. At his control + Despair and anguish fled the struggling soul; + Comfort came down the trembling wretch to raise, + And his last faltering accents whispered praise. + At church, with meek and unaffected grace, + His looks adorned the venerable place; + Truth from his lips prevailed with double sway, + And fools, who came to scoff remained to pray. + The service past, around the pious man, + With steady zeal, each honest rustic ran; + E'en children followed with endearing wile, + And plucked his gown, to share the good man's smile. + His ready smile a parent's warmth expressed; + Their welfare pleased him, and their cares distressed: + To them his heart, his love, his griefs were given, + But all his serious thoughts had rest in heaven. + As some tall cliff that lifts its awful form, + Swells from the vale, and midway leaves the storm, + Though round its breast the rolling clouds are spread, + Eternal sunshine settles on its head. + Beside yon straggling fence that skirts the way, + With blossom'd furze unprofitably gay, + There in his noisy mansion, skilled to rule, + The village master taught his little school. + A man severe he was, and stern to view; + I knew him well, and every truant knew; + Well had the boding tremblers learned to trace + The day's disasters in his morning face; + Full well they laughed with counterfeited glee + At all his jokes, for many a joke had he; + Full well the busy whisper circling round + Conveyed the dismal tidings when he frowned, + Yet he was kind, or, if severe in aught, + The love he bore to learning was in fault; + The village all declared how much he knew; + 'Twas certain he could write, and cypher too; + Lands he could measure, terms and tides presage, + And e'en, the story ran, that he could gauge: + In arguing, too, the parson owned his skill; + For e'en though vanquished, he could argue still; + While words of learned length and thundering sound + Amazed the gazing rustics ranged around; + And still they gazed, and still the wonder grew, + That one small head could carry all he knew. + + GOLDSMITH. + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +THE BATTLE OF CORUNNA. + + +All the encumbrances being shipped on the morning of the 16th, it was +intended to embark the fighting men in the coming night, and this +difficult operation would probably have been happily effected; but a +glorious event was destined to give a more graceful, though melancholy, +termination to the campaign. About two o'clock a general movement of +the French line gave notice of an approaching battle, and the British +infantry, fourteen thousand five hundred strong, occupied their +position. Baird's division on the right, and governed by the oblique +direction of the ridge, approached the enemy; Hope's division, forming +the centre and left, although on strong ground abutting on the Mero, was +of necessity withheld, so that the French battery on the rocks raked the +whole line of battle. One of Baird's brigades was in column behind the +right, and one of Hope's behind the left; Paget's reserve posted at the +village of Airis, behind the centre, looked down the valley separating +the right of the position front the hills occupied by the French +cavalry. A battalion detached from the reserve kept these horsemen +in check, and was itself connected with the main body by a chain of +skirmishers extended across the valley. Fraser's division held the +heights immediately before the gates of Corunna, watching the coast +road, but it was also ready to succour any point. + +When Laborde's division arrived, the French force was not less than +twenty thousand men, and the Duke of Dalmatia made no idle evolutions of +display. Distributing his lighter guns along the front of his position, +he opened a fire from the heavy battery on his left, and instantly +descended the mountain, with three columns covered by clouds of +skirmishers. The British pickets were driven back in disorder, and the +village of Elvina was carried by the first French column. + +The ground about that village was intersected by stone walls and hollow +roads; a severe scrambling fight ensued, the French were forced back +with great loss, and the fiftieth regiment entering the village with the +retiring mass, drove it, after a second struggle in the street, quite +beyond the houses. Seeing this, the general ordered up a battalion of +the guards to fill the void in the line made by the advance of those +regiments; whereupon, the forty-second, mistaking his intention, +retired, with exception of the grenadiers; and at that moment, the enemy +being reinforced, renewed the fight beyond the village. Major Napier, +commanding the fiftieth, was wounded and taken prisoner, and Elvina +then became the scene of another contest; which being observed by +the Commander-in-Chief, he addressed a few animating words to the +forty-second, and caused it to return to the attack. Paget had now +descended into the valley, and the line of the skirmishers being thus +supported, vigorously checked the advance of the enemy's troops in that +quarter, while the fourth regiment galled their flank; at the same time +the centre and left of the army also became engaged, Baird was severely +wounded, and a furious action ensued along the line, in the valley, and +on the hills. + +General Sir John Moore, while earnestly watching the result of the +fight about the village of Elvina, was struck on the left breast by a +cannon-shot; the shock threw him from his horse with violence; yet he +rose again in a sitting posture, his countenance unchanged, and his +steadfast eye still fixed upon the regiments engaged in his front, no +sigh betraying a sensation of pain. In a few moments, when he saw the +troops were gaining ground, his countenance brightened, and he suffered +himself to be taken to the rear. Then was seen the dreadful nature +of his hurt. As the soldiers placed him in a blanket, his sword got +entangled, and the hilt entered the wound; Captain Hardinge, a staff +officer, attempted to take it off, but the dying man stopped him, +saying: "It is as well as it is. I had rather it should go out of the +field with me;" and in that manner, so becoming to a soldier, Moore was +borne from the fight. + +Notwithstanding this great disaster, the troops gained ground. The +reserve overthrowing everything in the valley, forced La Houssaye's +dismounted dragoons to retire, and thus turning the enemy, approached +the eminence upon which the great battery was posted. In the centre, the +obstinate dispute for Elvina terminated in favour of the British; and +when the night set in, their line was considerably advanced beyond the +original position of the morning, while the French were falling back in +confusion. If Fraser's division had been brought into action along with +the reserve, the enemy could hardly have escaped a signal overthrow; +for the little ammunition Soult had been able to bring up was nearly +exhausted, the river Mero was in full tide behind him, and the difficult +communication by the bridge of El Burgo was alone open for a retreat. On +the other hand, to fight in the dark was to tempt fortune; the French +were still the most numerous, their ground strong, and their disorder +facilitated the original plan of embarking during the night. Hope, upon +whom the command had devolved, resolved therefore, to ship the army, +and so complete were the arrangements, that no confusion or difficulty +occurred; the pickets kindled fires to cover the retreat, and were +themselves withdrawn at daybreak, to embark under the protection of +Hill's brigade, which was in position under the ramparts of Corunna. + +From the spot where he fell, the general was carried to the town by his +soldiers; his blood flowed fast, and the torture of the wound was great; +yet the unshaken firmness of his mind made those about him, seeing the +resolution of his countenance, express a hope of his recovery. He looked +steadfastly at the injury for a moment, and said, "No, I feel that to +be impossible." Several times he caused his attendants to stop and turn +round, that he might behold the field of battle; and when the firing +indicated the advance of the British, he discovered his satisfaction +and permitted the bearers to proceed. When brought to his lodgings, the +surgeons examined his wound; there was no hope, the pain increased, he +spoke with difficulty. At intervals, he asked if the French were beaten, +and addressing his old friend, Colonel Anderson, said, "You know I +always wished to die this way." Again he asked if the enemy were +defeated, and being told they were, said, "It is a great satisfaction to +me to know we have beaten the French." His countenance continued firm, +his thoughts clear; once only when he spoke of his mother he became +agitated; but he often inquired after the safety of his friends and the +officers of his staff, and he did not even in this moment forget to +recommend those whose merit had given them claims to promotion. When +life was nearly extinct, with an unsubdued spirit, as if anticipating +the baseness of his posthumous calumniators, he exclaimed, "I hope +the people of England will be satisfied! I hope my country will do me +justice!" In a few minutes afterwards he died; and his corpse, wrapped +in a military cloak, was interred by the officers of his staff, in the +citadel of Corunna. The guns of the enemy paid his funeral honours, and +Soult, with a noble feeling of respect for his valour, raised a monument +to his memory on the field of battle. + + NAPIER. + + + +[Note:_Battle of Corunna_. The French army having proclaimed Joseph +Buonaparte, King of Spain, the Spanish people rose as one man in +protest, and sought and obtained the aid of England. The English armies +were at first driven back by Napoleon; but the force under Sir John +Moore saved its honour in the fight before Corunna, 16th January, 1809, +which enabled it to embark in safety.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +BATTLE OF ALBUERA. + + +The fourth division was composed of two brigades: one of Portuguese +under General Harvey; the other, under Sir William Myers, consisting of +the seventh and twenty-third regiments, was called the Fusilier Brigade; +Harvey's Portuguese were immediately pushed in between Lumley's dragoons +and the hill, where they were charged by some French cavalry, whom they +beat off, and meantime Cole led his fusiliers up the contested height. +At this time six guns were in the enemy's possession, the whole of +Werle's reserves were coming forward to reinforce the front column of +the French, the remnant of Houghton's brigade could no longer maintain +its ground, the field was heaped with carcasses, the lancers were riding +furiously about the captured artillery on the upper parts of the +hill, and behind all, Hamilton's Portuguese and Alten's Germans, now +withdrawing from the bridge, seemed to be in full retreat. Soon, +however, Cole's fusiliers, flanked by a battalion of the Lusitanian +legion under Colonel Hawkshawe, mounted the hill, drove off the lancers, +recovered five of the captured guns and one colour, and appeared on the +right of Houghton's brigade, precisely as Abercrombie passed it on the +left. + +Such a gallant line, issuing from the midst of the smoke, and rapidly +separating itself from the confused and broken multitude, startled the +enemy's masses, which were increasing and pressing onwards as to an +assured victory; they wavered, hesitated, and then vomiting forth a +storm of fire, hastily endeavoured to enlarge their front, while a +fearful discharge of grape from all their artillery whistled through the +British ranks. Myers was killed, Cole and the three colonels, Ellis, +Blakeney, and Hawkshawe, fell wounded, and the fusilier battalions, +struck by the iron tempest, reeled and staggered like sinking ships; but +suddenly and sternly recovering, they closed on their terrible enemies, +and then was seen with what a strength and majesty the British soldier +fights. In vain did Soult with voice and gesture animate his Frenchmen; +in vain did the hardiest veterans break from the crowded columns and +sacrifice their lives to gain time for the mass to open out on such a +fair field; in vain did the mass itself bear up, and, fiercely striving, +fire indiscriminately upon friends and foes, while the horsemen, +hovering on the flank, threatened to charge the advancing line. Nothing +could stop that astonishing infantry. No sudden burst of undisciplined +valour, no nervous enthusiasm weakened the stability of their order, +their flashing eyes were bent on the dark columns in their front, their +measured tread shook the ground, their dreadful volleys swept away +the head of every formation, their deafening shouts overpowered the +dissonant cries that broke from all parts of the tumultuous crowd, as +slowly and with a horrid carnage it was pushed by the incessant vigour +of the attack to the farthest edge of the hill. In vain did the French +reserves mix with the struggling multitude to sustain the fight; their +efforts only increased the irremediable confusion, and the mighty mass, +breaking off like a loosened cliff, went headlong down the steep; the +rain flowed after in streams discoloured with blood, and eighteen +hundred unwounded men, the remnant of six thousand unconquerable British +soldiers, stood triumphant on the fatal hill! + + NAPIER. + + + +[Note: _Battle of Albuera_, in which the English and Spanish armies won +a victory over the French under Marshal Soult, on 16th May, 1811.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +CHARGE OF THE LIGHT BRIGADE AT BALAKLAVA. + + +The whole brigade scarcely made one efficient regiment according to the +number of continental armies; and yet it was more than we could spare. +As they passed towards the front, the Russians opened on them from the +guns in the redoubt on the right with volleys of musketry and rifles. +They swept proudly past, glittering in the morning sun in all the pride +and splendour of war. We could scarcely believe the evidence of our +senses! Surely that handful of men are not going to charge an army in +position? Alas! it was but too true; their desperate valour knew +no bounds, and far indeed was it removed from its so-called better +part--discretion. They advanced in two lines, quickening their pace +as they closed towards the enemy. A more fearful spectacle was never +witnessed than by those who, without the power to aid, beheld their +heroic countrymen rushing to the arms of death. At the distance of +twelve hundred yards the whole line of the enemy belched forth, from +thirty iron mouths, a flood of smoke and flame through which hissed the +deadly balls. Their flight was marked by instant gaps in our ranks, by +dead men and horses, by steeds flying wounded or riderless across the +plain. The first line is broken, it is joined by the second; they never +halt or check their speed for an instant; with diminished ranks, thinned +by those thirty guns, which the Russians had laid with the most deadly +accuracy, with a halo of flashing steel above their heads, and with a +cheer which was many a noble fellow's death-cry, they flew into the +smoke of the batteries; but ere they were lost to view the plain was +strewn with their bodies and with the carcasses of horses. They were +exposed to an oblique fire from the batteries on the hills on both +sides, as well as to a direct fire of musketry. Through the clouds of +smoke we could see their sabres flashing as they rode up to the guns and +dashed between them, cutting down the gunners as they stood. We saw them +riding through the guns, as I have said: to our delight we saw them +returning, after breaking through a column of Russian infantry, and +scattering them like chaff, when the flank fire of the battery on the +hill swept them down, scattered and broken as they were. Wounded men and +dismounted troopers flying towards us told the sad tale: demigods could +not have done what we had failed to do. At the very moment when they +were about to retreat, an enormous mass of lancers was hurled on their +flank. Colonel Shewell, of the 8th Hussars, saw the danger, and rode his +few men straight at them, cutting his way through with fearful loss. +The other regiments turned and engaged in a desperate encounter. With +courage too great almost for credence, they were breaking their way +through the columns which enveloped them, when there took place an act +of atrocity without parallel in the modern warfare of civilised nations. +The Russian gunners, when the storm of cavalry passed, returned to their +guns. They saw their own cavalry mingled with the troopers who had just +ridden over them, and, to the eternal disgrace of the Russian name, the +miscreants poured a murderous volley of grape and canister on the mass +of struggling men and horses, mingling friend and foe in one common +ruin. It was as much as our Heavy Cavalry Brigade could do to cover +the retreat of the miserable remnants of that band of heroes as they +returned to the place they had so lately quitted in all the pride of +life. At 11:35 not a British soldier, except the dead and dying, was +left in front of the Muscovite guns. + + _The "Times" Correspondent_. + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +THE MERCHANT OF VENICE. + + +SCENE.--_Venice. A Court of Justice. + + Enter the_ DUKE, _the_ Magnificoes, ANTONIO, + BASSANIO, GATIANO, SALARINO, SALANIO, _and + others_. + + + _Duke_. What, is Antonio here? + + _Ant_. Ready, so please your grace. + + _Duke._ I am sorry for thee; thou art come to +answer +A stony adversary, an inhuman wretch +Uncapable of pity, void and empty +From any dram of mercy. + + _Ant_. I have heard +Your grace hath ta'en great pains to qualify +His rigorous course; but since he stands obdurate +And that no lawful means can carry me +Out of his envy's reach, I do oppose +My patience to his fury, and am arm'd +To suffer, with a quietness of spirit, +The very tyranny and rage of his. + + _Duke_. Go one, and call the Jew into the court, + + _Salan_. He is ready at the door: he comes, my lord. + + _Enter_ SHYLOCK. + + + _Duke_. Make room, and let him stand before our face. +Shylock, the world thinks, and I think so too, +That thou but lead'st this fashion of thy malice +To the last hour of act; and then 'tis thought +Thou'lt show thy mercy and remorse more strange +Than is thy strange apparent cruelty; +And where thou now exact'st the penalty, +(Which is a pound of this poor merchant's flesh), +Thou wilt not only loose the forfeiture, +But, touch'd with human gentleness and love, +Forgive a moiety of the principal; +Glancing an eye of pity on his losses, +That have of late so huddled on his back, +Enow to press a royal merchant down +And pluck commiseration of his state +From brassy bosoms and rough hearts of flint, +From stubborn Turks and Tartars, never train'd +To offices of tender courtesy. +We all expect a gentle answer, Jew. + + _Shy._ I have possess'd your grace of what I purpose; +And by our holy Sabbath have I sworn +To have the due and forfeit of my bond: +If you deny it, let the danger light +Upon your charter and your city's freedom. +You'll ask me, why I rather choose to have +A weight of carrion flesh than to receive +Three thousand ducats; I'll not answer that: +But, say, it is my humour; is it answer'd? + + * * * * * + + _Bass._ This is no answer, thou unfeeling man, +To excuse the current of thy cruelty. + + _Shy_. I am not bound to please thee with my answer. + + * * * * * + + _Ant._ I pray you, think you question with the Jew: +You may as well go stand upon the beach +And bid the main flood bate his usual height; +You may as well use question with the wolf +Why he hath made the ewe bleat for the lamb; +You may as well forbid the mountain pines +To wag their high tops and to make no noise, +When they are fretted with the gusts of heaven; +You may as well do any thing most hard, +As seek to soften that--than which what's harder?-- +His Jewish heart: therefore, I do beseech you, +Make no more offers, use no farther means, +But with all brief and plain conveniency +Let me have judgment, and the Jew his will. + + _Bass_. For thy three thousand ducats here is six. + + _Shy_, If every ducat in six thousand ducats +Were in six parts, and every part a ducat, +I would not draw them; I would have my bond. + + _Duke_. How shalt thou hope for mercy, rendering none? + + _Shy_. What judgment shall I dread, doing no wrong? +You have among you many a purchased slave, +Which, like your asses and your dogs and mules, +You use in abject and in slavish parts, +Because you bought them: shall I say to you, +Let them be free, marry them to your heirs? +Why sweat they under burthens? let their beds +Be made as soft as yours, and let their palates +Be season'd with such viands? You will answer +"The slaves are ours:" so do I answer you; +The pound of flesh, which I demand of him, +Is dearly bought; 'tis mine, and I will have it: +If you deny me, fie upon your law! +There is no force in the decrees of Venice: +I stand for judgment: answer; shall I have it? + + _Duke_. Upon my power, I may dismiss this court, +Unless Bellario, a learned doctor, +Whom I have sent for to determine this, +Come here to-day. + + _Salar_. My lord, here stays without +A messenger with letters from the doctor, +New come from Padua. + + _Duke_. Bring us the letters; call the messenger. + + _Enter_ NERISSA, _dressed like a lawyer's clerk._ + + _Duke._ Came you from Padua, from Bellario? + + _Ner_. From both, my lord. Bellario greets your grace. + + [_Presenting a letter_. + + _Bass_. Why dost thou whet thy knife so earnestly? + + _Shy_. To cut the forfeiture from that bankrupt there. + + _Gra_. Not on thy sole, but on thy soul, harsh Jew, +Thou mak'st thy knife keen; but no metal can, +No, not the hangman's axe, bear half the keenness +Of thy sharp envy. Can no prayers pierce thee? + + _Shy_. No, none that thou hast wit enough to make. + + * * * * * + + _Duke_. This letter from Bellario doth commend +A young and learned doctor to our court:-- +Where is he? + + _Ner_. He attendeth here hard by, +To know your answer, whether you'll admit him. + + _Duke_. With all my heart. Some three or four of you, +Go give him courteous conduct to this place. + + * * * * * + + _Enter_ PORTIA, _dressed like a doctor of laws_. + + _Duke_. Give me your hand. Came you from old Bellario? + + _Por_. I did, my lord. + + _Duke_. You are welcome: take your place. +Are you acquainted with the difference +That holds this present question in the court? + + _Por_. I am informed thoroughly of the cause. +Which is the merchant here, and which the Jew? + + _Duke_. Antonio and old Shylock, both stand +forth. + + _Por_. Is your name Shylock? + + _Shy_. Shylock is my name. + + _Por_. Of a strange nature is the suit you follow; +Yet in such rule that the Venetian law +Cannot impugn you as you do proceed. +You stand within his danger, do you not? + + _Ant_. Ay, so he says. + + _Por_. Do you confess the bond? + + _Ant_. I do. + + _Por_. Then must the Jew be merciful. + + _Shy_. On what compulsion must I? tell me that. + + _Por_. The quality of mercy is not strain'd; +It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven +Upon the place beneath: it is twice blest; +It blesseth him that gives and him that takes: +'Tis mightiest in the mightiest: it becomes +The throned monarch better than his crown; +His sceptre shows the force of temporal power, +The attribute to awe and majesty, +Wherein doth sit the dread and fear of kings; +But mercy is above this scepter'd sway; +It is enthroned in the hearts of kings, +It is an attribute to God himself: +And earthly power doth then show likest God's +When mercy seasons justice. Therefore, Jew, +Though justice be thy plea, consider this, +That, in the course of justice, none of us +Should see salvation: we do pray for mercy; +And that same prayer doth teach us all to render +The deeds of mercy. I have spoke thus much +To mitigate the justice of thy plea; +Which if thou follow, this strict court of Venice +Must needs give sentence 'gainst the merchant there. + + _Shy_. My deeds upon my head! I crave the law, +The penalty and forfeit of my bond. + + _Por_. Is he not able to discharge the money? + + _Bass_. Yes, here I tender it for him in the court; +Yea, twice the sum: if that will not suffice; +I will be bound to pay it ten times o'er, +On forfeit of my hands, my head, my heart: +If this will not suffice, it must appear +That malice bears down truth. And I beseech you, +Wrest once the law to your authority: +To do a great right, do a little wrong, +And curb this cruel devil of his will. + + _Por_. It must not be; there is no power in Venice +Can alter a decree established: +'Twill be recorded for a precedent, +And many an error, by the same example, +Will rush into the state: it cannot be. + + _Shy._ A Daniel come to judgment! yea, a Daniel! +O wise young judge, how do I honour thee! + + _Por._ I pray you, let me look upon the bond. + + _Shy._ Here 'tis, most reverend doctor, here it is. + + _Por._ Shylock, there's thrice thy money offer'd thee. + + _Shy._ An oath, an oath, I have an oath in heaven: +Shall I lay perjury upon my soul? +No, not for Venice. + + _Por._ Why, this bond is forfeit; +And lawfully by this the Jew may claim +A pound of flesh, to be by him cut off +Nearest the merchant's heart. Be merciful: +Take thrice thy money; bid me tear the bond. + + _Shy._ When it is paid according to the tenour. +It doth appear you are a worthy judge; +You know the law, your exposition +Hath been most sound: I charge you by the law, +Whereof you are a well-deserving pillar, +Proceed to judgment: by my soul I swear +There is no power in the tongue of man +To alter me: I stay here on my bond. + + _Ant._ Most heartily I do beseech the court +To give the judgment. + + _Por._ Why then, thus it is: +You must prepare your bosom for his knife. + + _Shy._ O noble judge! O excellent young man! + + _Por_. For the intent and purpose of the law +Hath full relation to the penalty, +Which here appeareth due upon the bond. + + _Shy_. 'Tis very true: O wise and upright judge! +How much more elder art thou than thy looks! + + _Por_. Therefore lay bare your bosom. + + _Shy_. Ay, his breast: +So says the bond; doth it not, noble judge? +"Nearest his heart:" those are the very words. + + _Por_. It is so. Are there balance here to weigh +The flesh? + + _Shy_. I have them ready. + + _Por_. Have by some surgeon, Shylock, on your charge, +To stop his wounds, lest he do bleed to death. + + _Shy_. Is it so nominated in the bond? + + _Por_. It is not so express'd: but what of that? +'Twere good you do so much for charity. + + _Shy_. I cannot find it; 'tis not in the bond. + + _Por_. Come, merchant, have you anything to say? + + _Ant_. But little: I am arm'd and well prepared. +Give me your hand, Bassanio: fare you well! +Grieve not that I am fallen to this for you; +For herein Fortune shows herself more kind +Than is her custom: it is still her use +To let the wretched man outlive his wealth, +To view with hollow eye and wrinkled brow +An age of poverty; from which lingering penance +Of such a misery doth she cut me off. +Commend me to your honourable wife: +Tell her the process of Antonio's end; +Say how I loved you, speak me fair in death. + + * * * * * + + _Shy_. We trifle time: I pray thee, pursue sentence. + + _Por_. A pound of that same merchant's flesh is thine: +The court awards it, and the law doth give it. + + _Shy_. Most rightful judge! + + _Por_. And you must cut this flesh from off his breast: +The law allows it, and the court awards it. + + _Shy_. Most learned judge! A sentence; come, prepare. + + _Por_. Tarry a little; there is something else. +This bond doth give thee here no jot of blood; +The words expressly are "a pound of flesh:" +Take then thy bond, take thou thy pound of flesh; +But, in the cutting it, if thou dost shed +One drop of Christian blood, thy lands and goods +Are, by the laws of Venice, confiscate +Unto the state of Venice. + + _Gra_. O upright judge! Mark, Jew: O learned judge! + + _Shy_. Is that the law? + + _Por_. Thyself shalt see the act: +For, as thou urgest justice, be assured +Thou shalt have justice, more than thou desirest. + + _Gra_. O learned judge! Mark, Jew; a learned judge! + + _Shy_. I take this offer, then; pay the bond thrice, +And let the Christian go. + + _Bass_. Here is the money. + + _Por_. Soft! +The Jew shall have all justice; soft! no haste: +He shall have nothing but the penalty. + + _Gra_. O Jew! an upright judge, a learned judge! + + _Por_. Therefore prepare thee to cut off the flesh. +Shed thou no blood, nor cut thou less nor more +But just a pound of flesh: if thou cut'st more +Or less than a just pound, be it but so much +As makes it light or heavy in the substance, +Or the division of the twentieth part +Of one poor scruple; nay, if the scale do turn +But in the estimation of a hair, +Thou diest and all thy goods are confiscate. + + _Gra_. A second Daniel, a Daniel, Jew! +Now, infidel, I have thee on the hip. + + _Por_. Why doth the Jew pause? take thy forfeiture. + + _Shy_. Give me my principal, and let me go. + + _Bass_. I have it ready for thee; here it is. + + _Por_. He hath refused it in the open court: +He shall have merely justice and his bond. + + _Gra_. A Daniel, still say I, a second Daniel! +I thank thee, Jew, for teaching me that word. + + _Shy_. Shall I not have barely my principal? + + _Por_. Thou shalt have nothing but the forfeiture, +To be so taken at thy peril, Jew. + + _Shy_. Why, then the devil give him good of it! +I'll stay no longer question. + + _Por_. Tarry, Jew: +The law hath yet another hold on you. +It is enacted in the laws of Venice, +If it be proved against an alien, +That by direct or indirect attempts +He seek the life of any citizen, +The party 'gainst the which he doth contrive +Shall seize one half his goods; the other half +Comes to the privy coffer of the state; +And the offender's life lies in the mercy +Of the duke only, 'gainst all other voice. +In which predicament, I say, thou stand'st; +For it appears, by manifest proceeding, +That indirectly and directly too +Thou hast contrived against the very life +Of the defendant; and thou hast incurr'd +The danger formerly by me rehearsed. +Down, therefore, and beg mercy of the duke. + + _Gra_. Beg that thou mayst have leave to hang thyself: +And yet, thy wealth being forfeit to the state, +Thou hast not left the value of a cord; +Therefore, thou must be hang'd at the state's charge. + + _Duke_. That thou shalt see the difference of our spirit, +I pardon thee thy life before thou ask it: +For half thy wealth, it is Antonio's; +The other half comes to the general state, +Which humbleness may drive unto a fine. + + _Por_. Ay, for the state, not for Antonio. + + _Shy_. Nay, take my life and all; pardon not that: +You take my house when you do take the prop +That doth sustain my house; you take my life +When you do take the means whereby I live. + + _Por_. What mercy can you render him, Antonio? + + _Gra_. A halter gratis; nothing else, for God's sake. + + _Ant_. So please my lord the duke, and all the court +To quit the fine for one half of his goods; +I am content, so he will let me have +The other half in use, to render it, +Upon his death, unto the gentleman +That lately stole his daughter. + + * * * * * + + _Por_. Art thou contented, Jew? what dost thou say? + + _Shy_. I am content. + + SHAKESPEARE. + + + + +[Notes: _Merchant of Venice. Obdurate_, with the second syllable long, +which modern usage makes short. + + +_Frellen_--agitated. A form of participial termination frequently found +in Shakespeare, as _strucken_, &c. It is preserved in _eaten, given, +&c._ + + +_Within his danger_ = in danger of him. + + +_Which humbleness may drive unto a fine_ = which with humility on your +part may be commuted for a fine.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + + IL PENSEROSO. + + Hence vain deluding Joys, + The brood of Folly, without father bred! + How little you bestead, + Or fill the fixèd mind with all your toys! + Dwell in some idle brain, + And fancies fond with gaudy shapes possess, + As thick and numberless + As the gay motes that people the sunbeams. + Or likest hovering dreams, + The fickle pensioners of Morpheus' train. + + But hail, thou Goddess, sage and holy! + Hail, divinest Melancholy! + Whose saintly visage is too bright + To hit the sense of human sight, + And therefore to our weaker view + O'erlaid with black, staid Wisdom's hue: + Black, but such as in esteem + Prince Memnon's sister might beseem + Or that starred Ethiop queen that strove + To set her beauty's praise above + The Sea-Nymphs, and their powers offended; + Yet thou art higher far descended; + Thee bright-haired Vesta, long of yore + To solitary Saturn bore; + His daughter she; in Saturn's reign + Such mixture was not held a stain: + Oft in glimmering bowers and glades + He met her, and in secret shades + Of woody Ida's inmost grove, + While yet there was no fear of Jove. + Come, pensive nun, devout and pure, + Sober, steadfast, and demure + All in a robe of darkest grain, + Flowing with majestic train + And sable stole of cyprus lawn, + Over thy decent shoulders drawn. + Come, but keep thy wonted state, + With even step and musing gait, + And looks commèrcing with the skies, + Thy rapt soul sitting in thine eyes; + There, held in holy passion still, + Forget thyself to marble, till + With a sad leaden downward cast, + Thou fix them on the earth as fast; + And join with thee calm Peace and Quiet, + Spare Fast, that oft with gods doth diet. + And hears the Muses in a ring + Aye round about Jove's altar sing; + And add to these retirèd Leisure, + That in trim gardens takes his pleasure; + But first, and chiefest, with thee bring + Him that yon soars on golden wing, + Guiding the fiery-wheelèd throne, + The cherub Contemplation; + And the mute Silence hist along, + 'Less Philomel will deign a song + In her sweetest, saddest plight, + Smoothing the rugged brow of Night, + While Cynthia checks her dragon yoke, + Gently o'er the accustomed oak; + --Sweet bird, that shunn'st the noise of folly, + Most musical, most melancholy; + Thee, chauntress, oft, the woods among + I woo, to hear thy even-song; + And missing thee, I walk unseen, + On the dry smooth-shaven green, + To behold the wandering Moon, + Riding near her highest noon, + Like one that had been led astray + Through the heaven's wide pathless way; + And oft, as if her head she bowed, + Stooping through a fleecy cloud. + Oft, on a plat of rising ground, + I hear the far-off Curfew sound + Over some wide-watered shore, + Swinging slow with sullen roar. + Or, if the air will not permit, + Some still, removed place will fit, + Where glowing embers through the room + Teach light to counterfeit a gloom, + Far from all resort of mirth, + Save the cricket on the hearth, + Or the bellman's drowsy charm, + To bless the doors from nightly harm. + Or let my lamp at midnight hour + Be seen on some high lonely tower, + Where I may oft out-watch the Bear + With thrice-great Hermes, or unsphere + The spirit of Plato, to unfold + What worlds, or what vast regions hold + The immortal mind, that hath forsook + Her mansion in this fleshly nook; + And of those demons that are found + In fire air, flood, or under ground, + Whose power hath a true consent + With planet, or with element. + Sometime let gorgeous Tragedy + In sceptered pall come sweeping by, + Presenting Thebes, or Pelops' line, + Or the tale of Troy divine, + Or what (though rare) of later age + Ennobled hath the buskined stage. + But, O sad Virgin, that thy power + Might raise Musaeus from his bower, + Or bid the soul of Orpheus sing + Such notes as, warbled to the string, + Drew iron tears down Pluto's cheek, + And made Hell grant what Love did seek! + Or call up him that left half-told + The story of Cambuscan bold, + Of Camball, and of Algarsife, + And who had Canace to wife + That owned the virtuous ring and glass; + And of the wondrous horse of brass + On which the Tartar king did ride; + And if aught else great bards beside + In sage and solemn tunes have sung, + Of tourneys and of trophies hung, + Of forests and enchantments drear, + Where more is meant than meets the ear. + Thus Night, oft see me in thy pale career, + Till civil-suited Morn appear. + Not tricked and frounced as she was wont + With the Attic Boy to hunt, + But kerchiefed in a comely cloud + While rocking winds are piping loud, + Or ushered with a shower still, + When the gust hath blown his fill, + Ending on the rustling leaves, + With minute drops from off the eaves. + And when the sun begins to fling + His flaring beams, me, Goddess, bring + To archèd walks of twilight groves, + And shadows brown, that Sylvan loves, + Of pine or monumental oak, + Where the rude axe, with heavèd stroke, + Was never heard the nymphs to daunt, + Or fright them from their hallowed haunt. + There in close covert by some brook + Where no profaner eye may look, + Hide me from Day's garish eye, + While the bee with honeyed thigh, + That at her flowery work doth sing, + And the waters murmuring, + With such concert as they keep, + Entice the dewy-feathered Sleep: + And let some strange mysterious dream + Wave at his wings in airy stream + Of lively portraiture displayed, + Softly on my eyelids laid: + And as I wake sweet music breathe + Above, about, or underneath, + Sent by some spirit to mortals good, + Or the unseen Genius of the wood. + But let my due feet never fail, + To walk the studious cloister's pale, + And love the high embowed roof, + With antique pillars massy proof, + And storied windows richly dight, + Casting a dim religious light. + There let the pealing organ blow, + To the full-voiced quire below, + In service high, and anthems clear, + As may with sweetness, through mine ear + Dissolve me into ecstasies, + And bring all Heaven before mine eyes. + And may at last my weary age + Find out the peaceful hermitage. + The hairy gown and mossy cell + Where I may sit and rightly spell + Of every star that heaven doth show, + And every herb that sips the dew; + Till old Experience do attain + To something like prophetic strain. + These pleasures, Melancholy, give, + And I with thee will choose to live. + + MILTON. + + + +[Notes: _Il Penscioso_ = the thoughtful man. + + +_Bestead_ = help, stand in good stead. + + +_Fond_ = foolish; its old meaning. + + +_Pensioners_. A word taken from the name of Elizabeth's body-guard. +Compare "the cowslips tall her pensioners be" ('Midsummer Night's +Dream'). + + +_Prince Memnon_, of Ethiopia, fairest of warriors, slain by Achilles +(Homer's Odyssey, Book xi.). His sister was Hemora. + + +_Starred Ethiop Queen_ = Cassiope, wife of King Cepheus, who was placed +among the stars. + + +_Sea-nymphs_ = Nereids. + + +Vesta_, the Goddess of the hearth; here for _Retirement. Saturn_, as +having introduced, according to the mythology, civilization, here stands +for _culture_. + + +_Commercing_ = holding communion with. Notice the accentuation. + + +_Forget thyself to marble_ = forget thyself till thou are still and +silent as marble. + + +_Hist along_ = bring along with a hush. _Hist_ is connected with _hush_. + + +_Philomel_ = the nightingale. + + +_Cynthia_ = the moon. + + +_Dragon yoke_. Compare "Night's swift dragons," ('Midsummer Night's +Dream'). + + +_Removed place_ = remote or retired place. Compare "some removed ground" +in 'Hamlet.' + + +_Nightly_ = by night. Sometimes it means "every night successively." + + +_Thrice-great Hermes_, a translation of Hermes Trismegistus, a fabulous +king of Egypt, held to be the inventor of Alchemy and Astronomy. + + +_Unsphere_, draw from his sphere or station. + + +_The immortal mind_. Plato treats of the immortality of the soul chiefly +in the _Phaedo_. The _demon_, with Socrates, is the attendant genius +of an individual; with Plato it is more general; and the assigning the +demons to the four elements is a notion of the later Platonists. + + +_Sceptered pall_ = royal robe. + + +_Presenting Thebes_, &c. These lines represent the subjects of tragedies +by Aeschylus, Sophocles, and Euripides, the great tragic poets of +Athens. + + +_Musaeus_, here for some bard of the distant past, generally. Musaeus, +in mythology, is a bard of Thrace, and son of Orpheus. + + +_Half-told the story of Cambuscan bold_. The Squire's Tale in Chaucer, +which is broken off in the middle. + + +_Camball_, Cambuscan's son. _Algarsife and Canacé_, his wife and +daughter. + + +_Frounced_. Used of hair twisted and curled. + + +_The Attic Boy_ = _Cephalus_, loved by _Eos_, the Morning. + + +_A shower still_ = a soft shower. + + +_Sylvan_ = Pan or Sylvanus. + + +_Cloister's pale_ = cloister's enclosure. + + +_Massy proof_. Massive and proof against the weight above them.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +AFRICAN HOSPITALITY. + + +As we approached the town, I was fortunate enough to overtake the +fugitive Kaartans to whose kindness I had been so much indebted in my +journey through Bambarra. They readily agreed to introduce me to the +King; and we rode together through some marshy ground where, as I was +anxiously looking around for the river, one of them called out, _geo +affili_ (see the water), and looking forwards, I saw with infinite +pleasure the great object of my mission--the long sought for majestic +Niger, glittering to the morning sun, as broad as the Thames at +Westminster, and flowing slowly _to the eastward_. I hastened to the +brink, and having drank of the water, lifted up my fervent thanks in +prayer to the Great Ruler of all things, for having thus far crowned my +endeavours with success. + +The circumstance of the Niger's flowing towards the east, and its +collateral points, did not, however, excite my surprise; for although I +had left Europe in great hesitation on this subject, and rather believed +that it ran in the contrary direction, I had made such frequent +inquiries during my progress concerning this river, and received from +negroes of different nations such clear and decisive assurance that its +general course was _towards the rising sun_, as scarce left any doubt on +my mind; and more especially as I knew that Major Houghton had collected +similar information in the same manner. + +I waited more than two hours without having an opportunity of crossing +the river; during which time, the people who had crossed carried +information to Mansong, the King, that a white man was waiting for a +passage, and was coming to see him. He immediately sent over one of his +chief men, who informed me that the King could not possibly see me +until he knew what had brought me into his country; and that I must not +presume to cross the river without the King's permission. He therefore +advised me to lodge at a distant village, to which he pointed, for +the night; and said that in the morning he would give me further +instructions how to conduct myself. This was very discouraging. However, +as there was no remedy, I set off for the village; where I found, to my +great mortification, that no person would admit me into his house. I +was regarded with astonishment and fear, and was obliged to sit all day +without victuals in the shade of a tree; and the night threatened to be +very uncomfortable, for the wind rose, and there was great appearance +of a heavy rain; and the wild beasts are so very numerous in the +neighbourhood that I should have been under the necessity of climbing up +the tree, and resting among the branches. About sunset, however, as I +was preparing to pass the night in this manner, and had turned my horse +loose that he might graze at liberty, a woman, returning from the +labours of the field, stopped to observe me, and perceiving that I +was weary and dejected, inquired into my situation, which I briefly +explained to her; whereupon, with looks of great compassion, she took up +my saddle and bridle and told me to follow her. Having conducted me into +her hut, she lighted up a lamp, spread a mat on the floor, and told me +I might remain there for the night. Finding that I was very hungry, she +said she would procure me something to eat. She accordingly went out, +and returned in a short time with a very fine fish; which having caused +to be half broiled upon some embers, she gave me for supper. The rites +of hospitality being thus performed towards a stranger in distress, my +worthy benefactress (pointing to the mat, and telling me I might sleep +there without apprehension), called to the female part of her family, +who had stood gazing on me all the while in fixed astonishment, to +resume their task of spinning cotton, in which they continued to employ +themselves great part of the night. They lightened their labour by +songs, one of which was composed extempore; for I was myself the subject +of it. It was sung by one of the young women, the rest joining in a sort +of chorus. The air was sweet and plaintive, and the words, literally +translated, were these:--"The winds roared and the rains fell. The +white man, faint and weary, came and sat our tree. He has no mother to +bring him milk, no wife to grind his corn." _Chorus_--"Let us pity the +white man; no mother has he," etc., etc. Trifling as this recital may +appear to the reader, to a person in my situation the circumstance was +affecting in the highest degree. I was oppressed by such unexpected +kindness, and sleep fled from my eyes. In the morning I presented my +compassionate landlady with two of the four brass buttons which remained +on my waistcoat; the only recompense I could make her. + + MUNGO PARK. + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +ACROSS THE DESERT OF NUBIA. + + +After a prayer of peace, we committed ourselves to the Desert. Our party +consisted of Ismael the Turk, two Greek servants besides Georgis, who +was almost blind and useless, two Barbarins, who took care of the +camels, Idris, and a young man a relation of his; in all nine persons. +We were all well armed with blunderbusses, swords, pistols, and +double-barrelled guns, except Idris and his lad, who had lances, the +only arms they could use. Five or six naked wretches of the Turcorory +joined us at the watering place, much against my will, for I knew that +we should probably be reduced to the disagreeable alternative of either +seeing them perish of thirst before our eyes, or, by assisting them, +running a great risk of perishing along with them. + +We left Gooz on the 9th of November, at noon, and halted at the little +village of Hassa, where we filled our water-skins--an operation which +occupied a whole day, as we had to take every means to secure them from +leaking or evaporation. While the camels were loading, I bathed myself +with infinite pleasure for a long half hour in the Nile, and thus took +leave of my old acquaintance, very doubtful if we should ever meet +again. We then turned to the north-east, leaving the Nile, and entering +into a bare desert of fixed gravel, without trees, and of a very +disagreeable whitish colour, mixed with small pieces of white marble, +like alabaster. Our camels, we found, were too heavily loaded; but +we comforted ourselves with the reflection, that this fault would +be remedied by the daily consumption of our provisions. We had been +travelling only two days when our misfortunes began, from a circumstance +we had not attended to. Our shoes, that had long needed repair, became +at last absolutely useless, and our feet were much inflamed by the +burning sand. + +On the 13th, we saw, about a mile to the northwest of us, Hambily, a +rock not considerable in size, but, from the plain country in which it +is situated, having the appearance of a great tower or castle. South +of it were too smaller hills, forming, along with it, landmarks of the +utmost consequence to caravans, because they are too considerable in +size to be at any time covered by the moving sands. We alighted on the +following day among some acacia trees, after travelling about twenty +miles. We were here at once surprised and terrified by a sight, surely +one of the most magnificent in the world. In that vast expanse of +desert, we saw a number of prodigious pillars of sand at different +distances, at one time moving with great celerity, at another stalking +on with majestic slowness. At intervals we thought they were coming to +overwhelm us; and again they would retreat, so as to be almost out of +sight, their tops reaching to the very clouds. There the tops often +separated from the bodies; and these, once disjoined, dispersed in +the air, and did not appear more. Sometimes they were broken near the +middle, as if struck with a large cannon shot. About noon, they began to +advance with considerable swiftness upon us, the wind being very strong +at north. Eleven of them ranged alongside of us, about the distance of +three miles. The greatest diameter of the largest appeared to me at that +distance as if it would measure ten feet. They retired from us with a +wind at S.E., leaving an impression upon my mind to which I can give no +name, though surely one ingredient in it was fear, with a considerable +deal of wonder and astonishment. It was vain to think of flying; the +swiftest horse, or fastest sailing ship, could be of no use to carry us +out of this danger; and the full persuasion of this rivetted me to the +spot where I stood, and let the camels gain on me so much, that, in my +state of lameness, it was with some difficulty I could overtake them. +The effect this stupendous sight had upon Idris was to set him to his +prayers, or rather to his charms; for, except the names of God and +Mahomet, all the rest of his words were mere gibberish and nonsense. +Ismael the Turk violently abused him for not praying in the words of the +Koran, at the same time maintaining, with great apparent wisdom, that +nobody had charms to stop these moving sands but the inhabitants of +Arabia Deserta. + +From this day subordination, though it did not entirely cease, rapidly +declined; all was discontent, murmuring, and fear. Our water was greatly +diminished, and that terrible death by thirst began to stare us in the +face, owing, in a great measure, to our own imprudence. Ismael, who had +been left sentinel over the skins of water, had slept so soundly, that +a Turcorory had opened one of the skins that had not been touched, in +order to serve himself out of it at his own discretion. I suppose +that, hearing somebody stir, and fearing detection, the Turcorory had +withdrawn himself as speedily as possible, without tying up the month of +the girba, which we found in the morning with scarce a quart of water in +it. + +On the 16th, our men, if not gay, were in better spirits than I had seen +them since we left Gooz. The rugged top of Chiggre was before us, and we +knew that there we would solace ourselves with plenty of good water. As +we were advancing, Idris suddenly cried out, "Fall upon your faces, for +here is the simoom!" I saw from the southeast a haze come, in colour +like the purple part of the rainbow, but not so compressed or thick. It +did not occupy twenty yards in breadth, and was about twelve feet high +from the ground. It was a kind of blush upon the air, and moved very +rapidly, for I scarce could turn to fall upon the ground, with my head +to the northward, when I felt the heat of its current plainly upon my +face. We all lay flat on the ground, as if dead, till Idris told us it +was blown over. The meteor or purple haze which I saw was indeed past, +but the light air that still blew was of a heat to threaten suffocation. +For my part, I found distinctly in my breast that I had imbibed a part +of it, nor was I free from an asthmatic sensation till I had been some +months in Italy, at the baths of Poretta, nearly two years afterwards. + +This phenomenon of the simoom, unexpected by us, though foreseen by +Idris, caused us all to relapse into our former despondency. It still +continued to blow, so as to exhaust us entirely, though the blast was +so weak as scarcely would have raised a leaf from the ground. Towards +evening it ceased; and a cooling breeze came from the north, blowing +five or six minutes at a time, and then falling calm. We reached Chiggre +that night, very much fatigued. + + BRUCE'S TRAVELS. + + + +[Note:_James Bruce_ (born 1730, died 1794), the African traveller; one +of the early explorers of the Nile.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +A SHIPWRECK ON THE ARABIAN COAST. + + +Another hour of struggle! It was past midnight, or thereabout, and the +storm, instead of abating, blew stronger and stronger. A passenger, one +of the three on the beam astern, felt too numb and wearied out to +retain his hold by the spar any longer; he left it, and swimming with a +desperate effort up to the boat, begged in God's name to be taken in. +Some were for granting his request, others for denying; at last two +sailors, moved with pity, laid hold of his arms where he clung to the +boat's side, and helped him in. We were now thirteen together, and the +boat rode lower down in the water and with more danger than ever: it was +literally a hand's breadth between life and death. Soon after another, +Ibraheem by name, and also a passenger, made a similar attempt to gain +admittance. To comply would have been sheer madness; but the poor wretch +clung to the gunwale, and struggled to clamber over, till the nearest +of the crew, after vainly entreating him to quit hold and return to the +beam, saying, "It is your only chance of life, you must keep to it," +loosened his grasp by main force, and flung him back into the sea, where +he disappeared for ever. "Has Ibraheem reached you?" called out the +captain to the sailor now alone astride of the spar. "Ibraheem is +drowned," came the answer across the waves. "Is drowned," all repeated +in an undertone, adding, "and we too shall soon be drowned also." In +fact, such seemed the only probable end of all our endeavours. For the +storm redoubled in violence; the baling could no longer keep up with the +rate at which the waves entered; the boat became waterlogged; the water +poured in hissing on every side: she was sinking, and we were yet far +out in the open sea. + +"Plunge for it!" a second time shouted the captain. "Plunge who may, I +will stay by the boat so long as the boat stays by me," thought I, and +kept my place. Yoosef, fortunately for him, was lying like a corpse, +past fear or motion; but four of our party, one a sailor and the other +three passengers, thinking that all hope of the boat was now over, and +that nothing remained them but the spar, jumped into the sea. Their loss +saved the remainder; the boat lightened and righted for a moment, the +pilot and I baled away desperately; she rose clear once more of the +water. Those in her were now nine in all--eight men and a boy, the +captain's nephew. + +Meanwhile the sea was running mountains; and during the paroxysm of +struggle, while the boat pitched heavily, the cord attached from her +stern to the beam snapped asunder. One man was on the spar. Yet a minute +or so the moonlight showed us the heads of the five survivors as they +tried to regain the boat; had they done it we were all lost; then a huge +wave separated them from us. "May God have mercy on the poor drowning +men!" exclaimed the captain: their bodies were washed ashore three or +four days later. We now remained sole survivors--if, indeed, we were to +prove so. + +Our men rowed hard, and the night wore on; at last the coast came in +full view. Before us was a high black rock, jutting out into the foaming +sea, whence it rose sheer like the wall of a fortress; at some distance +on the left a peculiar glimmer and a long white line of breakers assured +me of the existence of an even and sandy beach. The three sailors now at +the oars, and the passenger who had taken the place of the fourth, grown +reckless by long toil under the momentary expectation of death, and +longing to see an end anyhow to this protracted misery, were for pushing +the boat on the rocks, because the nearest land, and thus having it all +over as soon as possible. This would have been certain destruction. +The captain and pilot, well nigh stupefied by what they had undergone, +offered no opposition. I saw that a vigorous effort must be made; so I +laid hold of them both, shook them to arouse their attention, and bade +them take heed to what the rowers were about; adding that it was sheer +suicide, and that our only hope of life was to bear up for the sandy +creek, which I pointed out to them at a short distance. + +Thus awakened from their lethargy, they started up, and joined with me +in expostulating with the sailors. But the men doggedly answered that +they could hold out no more; that wherever the land was nearest they +would make for it, come what might; and with this they pulled on +straight towards the cliff. + +The captain hastily thrust the rudder into the pilot's hand, and +springing on one of the sailors, pushed him from the bench and seized +his oar, while I did the same to another on the opposite side; and we +now got the boat's head round towards the bay. The refractory sailors, +ashamed of their own faintheartedness, begged pardon, and promised to +act henceforth according to our orders. We gave them back their oars, +very glad to see a strife so dangerous, especially at such a moment, +soon at an end; and the men pulled for left, though full half an hour's +rowing yet remained between us and the breakers; and the course which +we had to hold was more hazardous than before, because it laid the boat +almost parallel with the sweep of the water: but half an hour! yet I +thought we should never come opposite the desired spot. + +At last we neared it, and then a new danger appeared. The first row of +breakers, rolling like a cataract, was still far off shore, at least a +hundred yards; and between it and the beach appeared a white yeast of +raging waters, evidently ten or twelve feet deep, through which, weary +as we all were, and benumbed with the night-chill and the unceasing +splash of the spray over us, I felt it to be very doubtful whether we +should have strength to struggle. But there was no avoiding it; and when +we drew near the long white line which glittered like a watchfire in the +night, I called out to Yoosef and the lad, both of whom lay plunged +in deathlike stupor, to rise and get ready for the hard swim, now +inevitable. They stood up, the sailors laid aside their oars, and a +moment after the curling wave capsized the boat, and sent her down as +though she had been struck by a cannon-shot, while we remained to fight +for our lives in the sea. + +Confident in my own swimming powers, but doubtful how far those of +Yoosef might reach, I at once turned to look for him; and seeing him +close by me in the water, I caught hold of him, telling him to hold fast +on, and I would help him to land. But, with much presence of mind, he +thrust back my grasp, exclaiming, "Save yourself! I am a good swimmer; +never fear for me." The captain and the young sailor laid hold of the +boy, the captain's nephew, one on either side, and struck out with him +for the shore. It was a desperate effort; every wave overwhelmed us in +its burst, and carried us back in its eddy, while I drank much more salt +water than was at all desirable. At last, after some minutes, long as +hours, I touched land, and scrambled up the sandy beach as though +the avenger of blood had been behind me. One by one the rest came +ashore--some stark naked, having cast off or lost their remaining +clothes in the whirling eddies; others yet retaining some part of their +dress. Every one looked around to see whether his companions arrived; +and when all nine stood together on the beach, all cast themselves +prostrate on the sands, to thank Heaven for a new lease of life granted +after much danger and so many comrades lost. + + W.G. PALGRAVE. + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +AN ARABIAN TOWN. + + +Perhaps my readers will not think it loss of time to accompany us on a +morning visit to the camp and market, to the village gardens and wells; +such visits we often paid, not without interest and pleasure. + +Warm though Raseem is, its mornings, at least at this time of year (the +latter part of September), were delightful. In a pure and mistless sky, +the sun rises over the measureless plain, while the early breeze is yet +cool and invigorating, a privilege enjoyed almost invariably in Arabia, +but wanting too often in Egypt in the west, and India in the east. +At this hour we would often thread the streets by which we had first +entered the town, and go betimes to the Persian camp, where all was +already alive and stirring. Here are arranged on the sand, baskets full +of eggs and dates, flanked by piles of bread and little round cakes of +white butter; bundles of fire-wood are heaped up close by, and pails +of goat's or camel's milk abound; and amid all these sit rows of +countrywomen, haggling with tall Persians, who in broken Arabic try to +beat down the prices, and generally end by paying only double what +they ought. The swaggering, broad-faced, Bagdad camel-drivers, and +ill-looking, sallow youths stand idle everywhere, insulting those whom +they dare, and cringing to their betters like slaves. Persian gentlemen, +too, with grand hooked noses, high caps, and quaintly-cut dresses of gay +patterns, saunter about, discussing their grievances, or quarrelling +with each other, to pass the time, for, unlike an Arab, a Persian shows +at once whatever ill-humour he may feel, and has no shame in giving it +utterance before whomever may be present; nor does he, with the Arab, +consider patience to be and essential point of politeness and dignity. +Not a few of the townsmen are here, chatting or bartering; and Bedouins, +switch in hand. If you ask any chance individual among these latter +what has brought him hither, you may be sure beforehand that the word +"camel," in one or other of its forms of detail, will find place in the +answer. Criers are going up and down the camp with articles of Persian +apparel, cooking pots, and ornaments of various descriptions in their +hands, or carrying them off for higher bidding to the town. + +Having made our morning household purchases at the fair, and the sun +being now an hour or more above the horizon, we think it time to visit +the market-place of the town, which would hardly be open sooner. We +re-enter the city gate, and pass on our way by our house door, where we +leave our bundle of eatables, and regain the high street of Berezdah. +Before long we reach a high arch across the road; this gate divides the +market from the rest of the quarter. We enter. First of all we see a +long range of butchers' shops on either side, thickly hung with flesh of +sheep and camel, and very dirtily kept. Were not the air pure and the +climate healthy, the plague would assuredly be endemic here; but in +Arabia no special harm seems to follow. We hasten on, and next pass +a series of cloth and linen warehouses, stocked partly with +home-manufacture, but more imported; Bagdad cloaks and head-gear, for +instance; Syrian shawls and Egyptian slippers. Here markets follow the +law general throughout the East, that all shops or stores of the same +description should be clustered together; a system whose advantages on +the whole outweigh its inconveniences, at least for small towns like +these, in the large cities and capitals of Europe, greater extent of +locality requires evidently a different method of arrangement: it might +be awkward for the inhabitants of Hyde Park were no hatters to be +found nearer than the Tower. But what is Berezdah compared even with a +second-rate European city? However, in a crowd, it yields to none: the +streets at this time of the day are thronged to choking, and, to make +matters worse, a huge splay-footed camel every now and then, heaving +from side to side like a lubber-rowed boat, with a long beam on his +back, menacing the heads of those in the way, or with two enormous loads +of fire-wood, each as large as himself, sweeping the road before him of +men, women, and children, while the driver, high perched on the hump, +regards such trifles with supreme indifference, so long as he brushes +his path open. Sometimes there is a whole string of these beasts, +the head-rope of each tied to the crupper of his precursor--very +uncomfortable passengers when met with at a narrow turning. + +Through such obstacles we have found or made our way, and are now amid +leather and shoemakers' shops, then among copper and iron-smiths, till +at last we emerge on the central town-square, not a bad one either, nor +very irregular, considering that it is in Raseem. About half one side +is taken up by the great mosque, an edifice nearly two centuries old, +judging by its style and appearance, but it bears on no part of it +either date or inscription. A crack running up one side of the tower +bears witness to an earthquake said to have occurred here about thirty +years since. + +Another side of the square is formed by an open gallery. In its shade +groups of citizens are seated discussing news or business. The central +space is occupied by camels and by bales of various goods, among which +the coffee of Yemen, henna, and saffron, bear a large part. + +From this square several diverging streets run out, each containing a +market-place for this or that ware, and all ending in portals dividing +them from the ordinary habitations. The vegetable and fruit market is +very extensive, and kept almost exclusively by women; so are also the +shops for grocery and spices. + +Rock-salt of remarkable purity and whiteness, from Western Raseem, is +a common article of sale, and enormous flakes of it, often beautifully +crystallized, lay piled up at the shop doors. Sometimes a Persian stood +by, trying his skill at purchase or exchange; but these pilgrims were +in general shy of entering the town, where, truly, they were not in the +best repute. Well-dressed, grave-looking townsmen abound, their yellow +wand of lotus-wood in their hands, and their kerchiefs loosely thrown +over their heads. + +The whole town has an aspect of old but declining prosperity. There are +few new houses, but many falling into ruin. The faces, too, of most we +meet are serious, and their voices in an undertone. Silk dresses are +prohibited by the dominant faction, and tobacco can only be smoked +within doors, and by stealth. + +Enough of the town: the streets are narrow, hot, and dusty; the day, +too, advances; but the gardens are yet cool. So we dash at a venture +through a labyrinth of byways and crossways till we find ourselves in +the wide street that runs immediately along but inside the walls. + +Here is a side gate, but half ruined, with great folding doors, and no +one to open them. The wall of one of the flanking towers has, however, +been broken in, and from thence we hope to find outlet on the gardens +outside. We clamber in, and after mounting a heap of rubbish, once the +foot of a winding staircase, have before us a window looking right on +the gardens. Fortunately we are not the first to try this short cut, and +the truant boys of the town have sufficiently enlarged the aperture and +piled up stones on the ground outside to render the passage tolerably +easy; we follow the indication, and in another minute stand in the open +air without the walls. The breeze is fresh, and will continue so till +noon. Before us are high palm-trees and dark shadows; the ground is +velvet-green with the autumn crop of maize and vetches, and intersected +by a labyrinth of watercourses, some dry, others flowing, for the wells +are at work. + +These wells are much the same throughout Arabia; their only diversity is +in size and depth, but their hydraulic machinery is everywhere alike. +Over the well's month is fixed a crossbeam, supported high in air on +pillars of wood or stone on either side, and on this beam are from three +to six small wheels, over which pass the ropes of as many large leather +buckets, each containing nearly twice the ordinary English measure. +These are let down into the depth, and then drawn up again by camels +or asses, who pace slowly backwards or forwards on an inclined plane +leading from the edge of the well itself to a pit prolonged for some +distance. When the buckets rise to the verge, they tilt over and pour +out their contents by a broad channel into a reservoir hard by, from +which part the watercourses that irrigate the garden. The supply thus +obtained is necessarily discontinuous, and much inferior to what a +little more skill in mechanism affords in Egypt and Syria; while the +awkward shaping and not unfrequently the ragged condition of the buckets +themselves causes half the liquid to fall back into the well before it +reaches the brim. The creaking, singing noise of the wheels, the rush of +water as the buckets attain their turning-point, the unceasing splash of +their overflow dripping back into the source, all are a message of life +and moisture very welcome in this dry and stilly region, and may be +heard far off amid the sandhills, a first intimation to the sun-scorched +traveller of his approach to a cooler resting-place. + + W.G. PALGRAVE. + + + + + * * * * * + + + + + COURTESY. + + + What virtue is so fitting for a knight, + Or for a lady whom a knight should love, + As courtesy; to bear themselves aright + To all of each degree as doth behove? + For whether they be placèd high above + Or low beneath, yet ought they well to know + Their good: that none them rightly may reprove + Of rudeness for not yielding what they owe: + Great skill it is such duties timely to bestow. + Thereto great help Dame Nature's self doth lend: + For some so goodly gracious are by kind, + That every action doth them much commend; + And in the eyes of men great liking find, + Which others that have greater skill in mind, + Though they enforce themselves, cannot attain; + For everything to which one is inclined + Doth best become and greatest grace doth gain; + Yet praise likewise deserve good thewes enforced with pain. + + SPENSER. + + + +[Notes: _Edmund Spenser_ (born 1552, died 1599), the poet who, in +Elizabeth's reign, revived the poetry of England, which since Chaucer's +day, two centuries before, had been flagging. + + +_Gracious are by kind, i.e.,_ by nature. _Kind_ properly means _nature_. + + +_Good thewes_ = good manners or virtues. As _thew_ passes into the +meaning "muscle," so _virtue_ (from _vis_, strength) originally means +_manlike valour_.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +THE QUEST OF THE HOLY GRAIL. + + +Then the King and all estates went home unto Camelot, and so went to +evensong to the great minster. And so after upon that to supper, and +every knight sat in his own place as they were toforehand. Then anon +they heard cracking and crying of thunder, that them thought the place +should all to-drive. In the midst of this blast entered a sunbeam +more clearer by seven times than ever they saw day, and all they were +alighted of the grace of the Holy Ghost. Then began every knight to +behold other, and either saw other by their seeming fairer than ever +they saw afore. Not for then there was no knight might speak one word +a great while, and so they looked every man on other, as they had been +dumb. Then there entered into the hall the Holy Grail, covered with +white samite, but there was none might see it, nor who bare it. And +there was all the hall full filled with good odours, and every knight +had such meats and drinks as he best loved in this world; and when +the Holy Grail had been borne through the hall, then the holy vessel +departed suddenly, that they wist not where it became. Then had they all +breath to speak. And then the King yielded thankings unto God of His +good grace that He had sent them. "Certes," said the King, "we ought to +thank our Lord Jesu greatly, for that he hath shewed us this day at the +reverence of this high feast of Pentecost." "Now," said Sir Gawaine, "we +have been served this day of what meats and drinks we thought on, but +one thing beguiled us: we might not see the Holy Grail, it was so +preciously covered; wherefore I will make here avow, that to-morn, +without longer abiding, I shall labour in the quest of the Sancgreal, +that I shall hold me out a twelvemonth and a day, or more if need be, +and never shall I return again unto the court till I have seen it more +openly than it hath been seen here; and if I may not speed, I shall +return again as he that may not be against the will of our Lord Jesu +Christ." When they of the Table Round heard Sir Gawaine say so, they +arose up the most party, and made such avows as Sir Gawaine had made. + +Anon as King Arthur heard this he was greatly displeased, for he wist +well that they might not again say their avows. "Alas!" said King Arthur +unto Sir Gawaine, "ye have nigh slain me with the avow and promise +that ye have made. For through you ye have bereft me of the fairest +fellowship and the truest of knighthood that ever were seen together in +any realm of the world. For when they depart from hence, I am sure they +all shall never meet more in this world, for they shall die many in the +quest. And so it forethinketh me a little, for I have loved them as well +as my life, wherefore it shall grieve me right sore the departition +of this fellowship. For I have had an old custom to have them in my +fellowship." And therewith the tears filled in his eyes. And then he +said, "Gawaine, Gawaine, ye have set me in great sorrow. For I have +great doubt that my true fellowship shall never meet here again." "Ah," +said Sir Launcelot, "comfort yourself, for it shall be unto us as a +great honour, and much more than if we died in any other places, for of +death we be sure." "Ah, Launcelot," said the King, "the great love +that I have had unto you all the days of my life maketh me to say such +doleful words; for never Christian king had never so many worthy men at +this table as I have had this day at the Round Table, and that is my +great sorrow." When the queen, ladies, and gentlewomen wist these +tidings, they had such sorrow and heaviness that there might no tongue +tell it, for those knights had holden them in honour and charity. + +And when all were armed, save their shields and their helms, then they +came to their fellowship, which all were ready in the same wise for to +go to the minster to hear their service. + +Then, after the service was done, the King would wit how many had taken +the quest of the Holy Grail, and to account them he prayed them all. +Then found they by tale an hundred and fifty, and all were knights of +the Round Table. And then they put on their helms and departed, and +recommended them all wholly unto the queen, and there was weeping and +great sorrow. + +And so they mounted upon their horses and rode through the streets of +Camelot, and there was weeping of the rich and poor, and the King turned +away, and might not speak for weeping. So within a while they came to a +city and a castle that hight Vagon. There they entered into the castle, +and the lord of that castle was an old man that hight Vagon, and he was +a good man of his living, and set open the gates, and made them all the +good cheer that he might. And so on the morrow they were all accorded +that they should depart every each from other. And then they departed on +the morrow with weeping and mourning cheer, and every knight took the +way that him best liked. + + SIR THOMAS MALORY. + + +[Notes: _The Quest of the Holy Grail_. This is taken from the 'Mort +d'Arthur,' written about the end of the fifteenth century by Sir Thomas +Malory, and one of the first books printed in England by Caxton. King +Arthur was at the head and centre of the company of Knights of the Table +Bound. The _Holy Grail_, or the _Sangreal,_ was the dish said to have +held the Paschal lamb at the Last Supper, and to have been possessed by +Joseph of Arimathea. + +Notice throughout this piece the archaic phrases used.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +VISIT TO SIR ROGER DE COVERLEY'S COUNTRY SEAT. + + +Having often received an invitation from my friend Sir Roger de Coverley +to pass away a month with him in the country, I last week accompanied +him thither, and am settled with him for some time at his country-house, +where I intend to form several of my ensuing speculations. Sir Roger, +who is very well acquainted with my humour, lets me rise and go to bed +when I please, dine at his own table or in my own chamber, as I think +fit, sit still and say nothing without bidding me be merry. + +I am the more at ease in Sir Roger's family, because it consists of +sober and staid persons; for, as the knight is the best master in the +world, he seldom changes his servants; and as he is beloved by all +about, his servants never care for leaving him; by this means his +domestics are all in years, and grown old with their master. You would +take his _valet de chambre_ for his brother; his butler is grey-headed, +his groom is one of the gravest men that I have ever seen, and his +coachman has the looks of a Privy Counsellor. You see the goodness of +the master even in the old house-dog, and in a grey pad that is kept in +the stable with great care and tenderness, out of regard for his past +services, though he has been useless for several years. + +I could not but observe, with a great deal of pleasure, the joy that +appeared in the countenance of these ancient domestics upon my friend's +arrival at his country-seat. Some of them could not refrain from tears +at the sight of their old master; every one of them pressed forward to +do something for him, and seemed discouraged if they were not employed. +At the same time the good old knight, with a mixture of a father and the +master of the family, tempered the inquiries after his own affairs with +several kind questions about themselves. This humanity and good-nature +engages everybody to him, so that when he is pleasant upon any of them, +all his family are in good-humour, and none so much as the person he +diverts himself with. On the contrary, if he coughs, or betrays any +infirmity of old age, it is easy for a stander-by to observe a secret +concern in the looks of all his servants. + +My chief companion, when Sir Roger is diverting himself in the woods or +the fields, is a very venerable man who is ever with Sir Roger, and has +lived at his house in the nature of a chaplain above thirty years. This +gentleman is a person of good sense and some learning; of a very regular +life and obliging conversation: he heartily loves Sir Roger, and knows +that he is very much in the old knight's esteem, so that he lives in the +family rather as a relation than a dependent. + +I have observed in several of my papers, that my friend Sir Roger, +amidst all his good qualities, is something of a humorist; and that his +virtues, as well as imperfections, are, as it were, tinged by a certain +extravagance which makes them particularly _his_, and distinguishes them +from those of other men. This cast of mind, as it is generally very +innocent in itself, so it renders his conversation highly agreeable, and +more delightful than the same degree of sense and virtue would appear in +their common and ordinary colours. As I was walking with him last night, +he asked me how I liked the good man I have just now mentioned? And +without staying for an answer, told me, "That he was afraid of being +insulted with Latin and Greek at his own table; for which reason he +desired a particular friend of his at the University to find him out a +clergyman rather of plain sense than much learning; of a good aspect, a +clear voice, a sociable temper, and, if possible, a man that understood +a little of backgammon. My friend," says Sir Roger, "found me out this +gentleman, who, besides the endowments required of him, is, they tell +me, a good scholar, though he does not show it. I have given him the +parsonage of the parish; and, because I know his value, have settled +upon him a good annuity for life. If he outlives me, he shall find that +he was higher in my esteem than perhaps he thinks he is. He has now been +with me thirty years, and though he does not know I have taken notice of +it, has never in all that time asked anything of me for himself, though +he is every day soliciting me for something in behalf of one or other +of my tenants, his parishioners. There has not been a law-suit in the +parish since he has lived among them: if any dispute arises, they apply +themselves to him for the decision; if they do not acquiesce in his +judgment, which I think never happened above once or twice, at most, +they appeal to me. At his first settling with me, I made him a present +of all the good sermons that have been printed in English, and only +begged of him that every Sunday he would pronounce one of them in the +pulpit. Accordingly, he has digested them into such a series, that they +follow one another naturally, and make a continued series of practical +divinity." + + ADDISON. + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +THE DEAD ASS. + + +"And this," said he, putting the remains of a crust into his wallet, +"and this should have been thy portion," said he, "hadst thou been alive +to have shared it with me." I thought by the accent it had been an +apostrophe to his child; but 'twas to his ass, and to the very ass we +had seen dead on the road. The man seemed to lament it much; and it +instantly brought into my mind Sancho's lamentation for his; but he did +it with more true touches of nature. + +The mourner was sitting on a stone bench at the door, with the ass's +pannel and its bridle on one side, which he took up from time to +time--then laid them down--looked at them--and shook his head. He then +took his crust of bread out of his wallet again, as if to eat it; +held it some time in his hand--then laid it upon the bit of his ass's +bridle--looked wistfully at the little arrangement he had made--and then +gave a sigh. + +The simplicity of his grief drew numbers about him, and La Fleur among +the rest, whilst the horses were getting ready; as I continued sitting +in the postchaise, I could see and hear over their heads. + +He said he had come last from Spain, where he had been from the farthest +borders of Franconia; and he had got so far on his return home, when his +ass died. Every one seemed desirous to know what business could have +taken so old and poor a man so far a journey from his own home. + +"It had pleased heaven," he said, "to bless him with three sons, the +finest lads in all Germany; but having in one week lost two of them by +the small-pox, and the youngest falling ill of the same distemper, he +was afraid of being bereft of them all; and made a vow, if Heaven would +not take him from him also, he would go in gratitude to St. Iago, in +Spain." + +When the mourner got thus far on his story, he stopped to pay nature her +tribute, and wept bitterly. + +He said Heaven had accepted the conditions, and that he had set out from +his cottage, with this poor creature, who had been a patient partner of +his journey--that it had eat the same bread with him all the way, and +was unto him as a friend. + +Everybody who stood about heard the poor fellow with concern. La Fleur +offered him money; the mourner said he did not want it; it was not the +value of the ass, but the loss of him. "The ass," he said, "he was +assured, loved him;" and upon this, told them a long story of a +mischance upon their passage over the Pyrenean mountains, which had +separated them from each other three days; during which time the ass had +sought him as much as he had sought the ass, and they had neither scarce +eat or drank till they met. + +"Thou hast one comfort, friend," said I, "at least in the loss of the +poor beast; I'm sure thou hast been a merciful master to him." "Alas!" +said the mourner, "I thought so when he was alive; but now he is dead I +think otherwise. I fear the weight of myself and my afflictions together +have been too much for him--they have shortened the poor creature's +days, and I fear I have them to answer for." "Shame on the world!" said +I to myself. "Did we love each other as this poor soul but loved his +ass, 'twould be something." + + STERNE. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of MacMillan's Reading Books, by Anonymous + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 11230 *** diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d2f8384 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #11230 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/11230) diff --git a/old/11230-8.txt b/old/11230-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..ddd056b --- /dev/null +++ b/old/11230-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11386 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of MacMillan's Reading Books, by Anonymous + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: MacMillan's Reading Books + Book V + +Author: Anonymous + +Release Date: February 22, 2004 [EBook #11230] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MACMILLAN'S READING BOOKS *** + + + + +Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Frank van Drogen and PG Distributed +Proofreaders + + + + + +MACMILLAN'S + +READING BOOKS. + +Book V. + + + +STANDARD V. + + + +ENGLISH CODE. + +_For Ordinary Pass_. + +Improved reading, and recitation of not less than seventy-five lines of +poetry. + +N.B.--The passages for recitation may be taken from one or more standard +authors, previously approved by the Inspector. Meaning and allusions to +be known, and, if well known, to atone for deficiencies of memory. + +_For Special Grant (Art. 19, C. 1)._ + +Parsing, with analysis of a "simple" sentence. + + + + +SCOTCH CODE. + + +_For Ordinary Pass_. + +Reading, with expression, a short passage of prose or of poetry, with +explanation, grammar, and elementary analysis of simple sentences. + +Specific Subject--English literature and language, 2nd year. (_Art. 21 +and Schedule IV., Scotch Code._) + +Three hundred lines of poetry, not before brought up, repeated; with +knowledge of meaning and allusions, and of the derivations of words. + + + + +PREFACE TO BOOK V. + + +This seems a fitting place in which to explain the general aim of +this series of Reading Books. Primarily, it is intended to provide a +systematic course for use in schools which are under State inspection; +and, with this view, each Book in the series, after the Primer, is drawn +up so as to meet the requirements, as set forth in the English and +Scotch codes issued by the Committees of Council on Education, of the +Standard to which it corresponds. + +This special adaptation will not, it is hoped, render the series less +useful in other schools. The graduated arrangement of the books, +although, perhaps, one to which every teacher may not choose to conform, +may yet serve as a test by which to compare the attainments of the +pupils in any particular school with those which, according to the +codes, may be taken as the average expected from the pupils in schools +where the Standard examination is, necessarily, enforced. + +The general character of the series is literary, and not technical. +Scientific extracts have been avoided. The teaching of special subjects +is separately recognised by the codes, and provided for by the numerous +special handbooks which have been published. The separation of the +reading class from such teaching will prove a gain to both. The former +must aim chiefly at giving to the pupils the power of accurate, and, +if possible, apt and skilful expression; at cultivating in them a good +literary taste, and at arousing a desire of further reading. All +this, it is believed, can best be done where no special or technical +information has to be extracted from the passages read. + +In the earlier Books the subject, the language, and the moral are all +as direct and simple as possible. As they advance, the language becomes +rather more intricate, because a studied simplicity, when detected +by the pupil, repels rather than attracts him. The subjects are more +miscellaneous; but still, as far as possible, kept to those which can +appeal to the minds of scholars of eleven or twelve years of age, +without either calling for, or encouraging, precocity. In Books II., +III., and IV., a few old ballads and other pieces have been purposely +introduced; as nothing so readily expands the mind and lifts it out of +habitual and sluggish modes of thought, as forcing upon the attention +the expressions and the thoughts of an entirely different time. + +The last, or Sixth Book, may be thought too advanced for its purpose. +But, in the first place, many of the pieces given in it, though selected +for their special excellence, do not involve any special difficulties; +and, in the second place, it will be seen that the requirements of the +English Code of 1875 in the Sixth Standard really correspond in some +degree to those of the special subject of English literature, formerly +recognised by the English, and still recognised by the Scotch Code. +Besides this, the Sixth Book is intended to supply the needs of pupil +teachers and of higher classes; and to be of interest enough to be read +by the scholar out of school-hours, perhaps even after school is done +with altogether. To such it may supply the bare outlines of English +literature; and may, at least, introduce them to the best English +authors. The aim of all the extracts in the book may not be fully +caught, as their beauty certainly cannot be fully appreciated, by +youths; but they may, at least, serve the purpose of all education--that +of stimulating the pupil to know more. + +The editor has to return his thanks for the kindness by which certain +extracts have been placed at his disposal by the following authors +and publishers:--Mr. Ruskin and Mr. William Allingham; Mr. Nimmo (for +extract from Hugh Miller's works); Mr. Nelson (for poems by Mr. and Mrs. +Howitt); Messrs. Edmonston and Douglas (for extract from Dasent's "Tales +from the Norse"); Messrs. Chapman and Hall (for extracts from the works +of Charles Dickens and Mr. Carlyle); Messrs. Longmans, Green, and Co. +(for extracts from the works of Macaulay and Mr. Froude); Messrs. +Routledge and Co. (for extracts from Miss Martineau's works); Mr. Murray +(for extracts from the works of Dean Stanley); and many others. + + + + + +BOOK V. + + +CONTENTS. + +_Prose._ + +PREFACE + +INTRODUCTION + +INCIDENT IN THE LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON _Warner's Tour in the Northern +Counties._ + +THE OLD PHILOSOPHER AND THE YOUNG LADY _Jane Taylor_ + +BARBARA S---- _Charles Lamb_ + +DR. ARNOLD _Tom Brown's School Days_ + +BOYHOOD'S WORK [ditto] + +WORK IN THE WORLD [ditto] + +CASTLES IN THE AIR _Addison_ + +THE DEATH OF NELSON _Southey_ + +LEARNING TO RIDE _T. Hughes_ + +MOSES AT THE FAIR _Goldsmith_ + +WHANG THE MILLER [ditto] + +AN ESCAPE _Defoe's Robinson Crusoe_ + +NECESSITY THE MOTHER OF INVENTION [ditto] + +LABRADOR _Southey's Omniana_ + +GROWTH OF EUROPEAN CIVILIZATION IN THE TWELFTH CENTURY _Robertson_ + +A WHALE HUNT _Scott_ + +A SHIPWRECK _Charles Kingsley_ + +THE BLACK PRINCE _Dean Stanley_ + +THE ASSEMBLY OF URI _E.A. Freeman_ + +MY WINTER GARDEN _Charles Kingsley_ + +ASPECTS OF NORTHERN AND SOUTHERN COUNTRIES _John Ruskin_ + +COLUMBUS IN SIGHT OF LAND _Washington Irving_ + +COLUMBUS SHIPWRECKED [ditto] + +ROBBED IN THE DESERT _Mungo Park_ + +ARISTIDES _Plutarch's Lives_ + +THE VENERABLE BEDE _J.R. Green_ + +THE DEATH OF ANSELM _Dean Church_ + +THE MURDER OF BECKET _Dean Stanley_ + +THE DEATH OF ELIZABETH _J.R. Green_ + +THE BATTLE OF NASEBY _Defoe_ + +THE PILGRIMS AND GIANT DESPAIR _Bunyan_ + +A HARD WINTER _Rev. Gilbert White_ + +A PORTENTOUS SUMMER [ditto] + +A THUNDERSTORM [ditto] + +CHARACTER OF SIR WALTER SCOTT _J. Lockhart_ + +MUMPS'S HALL _Scott_ + +THE PORTEOUS MOB [ditto] + +THE PORTEOUS MOB (_continued_) [ditto] + +JOSIAH WEDGWOOD _Speech by Mr. Gladstone_ + +THE CRIMEAN WAR _Speech by Mr. Disraeli_ + +NATIONAL MORALITY _Speech by Mr. Bright_ + +THE PLEASURES OF A LIFE OF LABOUR _Hugh Miller_ + +THE FLIGHT OF BIRDS _Rev. Gilbert White_ + +THE BATTLE OF CORUNNA _Napier_ + +BATTLE OF ALBUERA _Napier_ + +CHARGE OF THE LIGHT BRIGADE AT BALAKLAVA _The "Times" Correspondent + +AFRICAN HOSPITALITY _Mungo Park_ + +ACROSS THE DESERT OF NUBIA _Bruce's Travels_ + +A SHIPWRECK ON THE ARABIAN COAST _W.G. Palgrave_ + +AN ARABIAN TOWN _W.G. Palgrave_ + +THE QUEST OF THE HOLY GRAIL _Sir Thomas Malory_ + +VISIT TO SIR ROGER DE COVERLEY'S COUNTRY SEAT _Addison_ + +THE DEAD ASS _Sterne_ + + +_Poetry_. + +THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH _H.W. Longfellow_ + +MEN OF ENGLAND _Campbell_ + +A BALLAD _Goldsmith_ + +MARTYRS _Cowper_ + +A PSALM OF LIFE _H.W. Longfellow_ + +THE ANT AND THE CATERPILLAR _Cunningham_ + +REPORT OF AN ADJUDGED CASE _Couper_ + +THE INCHCAPE BELL _Southey_ + +BATTLE OF THE BALME _Campbell_ + +LOCHINVAR _Scott_ + +THE CHAMELEON _Merrick_ + +A WISH _Pope_ + +A SEA SONG _Cunningham_ + +ON THE LOSS OF THE 'ROYAL GEORGE' _Cowper_ + +RULE BRITANNIA _Thomson_ + +WATERLOO _Byron_ + +IVRY _Macaulay_ + +ANCIENT GREECE _Byron_ + +THE TEMPLE OF FAME _Pope_ + +A HAPPY LIFE _Sir Henry Wotton_ + +MAN'S SERVANTS _George Herbert_ + +VIRTUE _George Herbert_ + +DEATH THE CONQUEROR _James Shirley_ + +THE PASSIONS _Collins_ + +THE VISION OF BELSHAZZAR _Byron_ + +YE MARINERS OF ENGLAND _Campbell_ + +A SHIPWRECK _Byron_ + +THE HAPPY WARRIOR _Wordsworth_ + +LIBERTY _Cowper_ + +THE TROSACHS _Scott_ + +LOCHIEL'S WARNING _Campbell_ + +REST FROM BATTLE _Pope_ + +THE SAXON AND THE GAEL _Scott_ + +THE SAXON AND THE GAEL _(continued)_ _Scott_ + +THE WINTER EVENING _Cowper_ + +MAZEPPA _Byron_ + +HYMN TO DIANA _Ben Jonson_ + +L'ALLEGRO _Milton_ + +THE VILLAGE _Goldsmith_ + +THE MERCHANT OF VENICE _Shakespeare_ + +IL PENSEROSO _Milton_ + +COURTESY _Spenser_ + +NOTES + + + + + + + +BOOK V. + + + + +INTRODUCTION. + + +Throughout this book, and the next, you will find passages taken from +the writings of the best English authors. But the passages are not all +equal, nor are they all such as we would call "the best," and the more +you read and are able to judge them for yourselves, the better you will +be able to see what is the difference between the best and those that +are not so good. + +By the best authors are meant those who have written most skilfully +in prose and verse. Some of these have written in prose, because they +wished to tell us something more fully and freely than they could do if +they tied themselves to lines of an equal number of syllables, or ending +with the same sound, as men do when they write poetry. Others have +written in verse, because they wished rather to make us think over +and over again about the same thing, and, by doing so, to teach +us, gradually, how much we could learn from one thing; if we think +sufficiently long and carefully about it; and, besides this, they knew +that rhythmical or musical language would keep longest in our memory +anything which they wished to remain there; and by being stored up in +our mind, would enrich us in all our lives after. + +In these books you will find pieces taken from authors both in prose and +verse. But of the authors who have made themselves famous by the books +which they have written in our language, many had to be set aside. +Because many writers, though their books are famous, have written so +long ago, that the language which they use, though it is really the same +language as our own, is yet so old-fashioned that it is not readily +understood. By and by, when you are older, you may read these books, and +find it interesting to notice how the language is gradually changing; so +that, though we can easily understand what our grandfathers or our great +grandfathers wrote, yet we cannot understand, without carefully studying +it, what was written by our own ancestors a thousand, or even five +hundred, years ago. + +The first thing, however, that you have to do--and, perhaps, this book +may help you to do it--is to learn what is the best way of writing or +speaking our own language of the present day. You cannot learn this +better than by reading and remembering what has been written by men, +who, because they were very great, or because they laboured very hard, +have obtained a great command over the language. When we speak of +obtaining a command over language we mean that they have been able to +say, in simple, plain words, exactly what they mean. This is not so easy +a matter as you may at first think it to be. Those who write well do not +use roundabout ways of saying a thing, or they might weary us; they +do not use words or expressions which might mean one or other of two +things, or they might confuse us; they do not use bombastic language, or +language which is like a vulgar and too gaudy dress, or they might make +us laugh at them; they do not use exaggerated language, or, worse than +all, they might deceive us. If you look at many books which are written +at the present day, or at many of the newspapers which appear every +morning, you will find that those who write them often forget these +rules; and after we have read for a short time what they have written, +we are doubtful about what they mean, and only sure that they are trying +to attract foolish people, who like bombastic language as they like too +gaudy dress, and are caring little whether what they write is strictly +true or not. + +It is, therefore, very important that you should take as your examples +those who have written very well and very carefully, and who have been +afraid lest by any idle or careless expression they might either lead +people to lose sight of what is true, or might injure our language, +which has grown up so slowly, which is so dear to us, and the beauty of +which we might, nevertheless, so easily throw away. + +As you read specimens of what these authors have written, you will find +that they excel chiefly in the following ways: + +First. They tell us just what they mean; neither more nor less. + +Secondly. They never leave us doubtful as to anything we ought to know +in order to understand them. If they tell us a story, they make us feel +as if we saw all that they tell us, actually taking place. + +Thirdly. They are very careful never to use a word unless it is +necessary; never to think a word so worthless a thing that it can be +dragged in only because it sounds well. + +Fourthly. When they rouse our feelings, they do so, not that they may +merely excite or amuse us, but that they may make us sympathise more +fully with what they have to tell. + +In these matters they are mostly alike; but in other matters you will +find that they differ from each other greatly. Our language has come +from two sources. One of these is the English language as talked by our +remote ancestors, the other is the Latin language, which came to us +through French, and from which we borrowed a great deal when our +language was getting into the form it now has. Many of our words and +expressions, therefore, are Old English, while others are borrowed from +Latin. Some authors prefer to use, where they can, old English words and +expressions, which are shorter, plainer, and more direct; others prefer +the Latin words, which are more ornamental and elaborate, and perhaps +fit for explaining what is obscure, and for showing us the difference +between things that are very like. This is one great contrast; and there +are others which you will see for yourselves as you go on. And while +you notice carefully what is good in each, you should be careful not to +imitate too exactly the peculiarities, which may be the faults, in any +one. + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +INCIDENT IN THE LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON. + + +During the last visit Dr. Johnson paid to Lichfield, the friends with +whom he was staying missed him one morning at the breakfast-table. On +inquiring after him of the servants, they understood he had set off from +Lichfield at a very early hour, without mentioning to any of the +family whither he was going. The day passed without the return of the +illustrious guest, and the party began to be very uneasy on his account, +when, just before the supper-hour, the door opened, and the doctor +stalked into the room. A solemn silence of a few minutes ensued, nobody +daring to inquire the cause of his absence, which was at last +relieved by Johnson addressing the lady of the house in the following +manner:--"Madam, I beg your pardon for the abruptness of my departure +from your house this morning, but I was constrained to it by my +conscience. Fifty years ago, madam, on this day, I committed a breach of +filial piety, which has ever since lain heavy on my mind, and has +not till this day been expiated. My father, as you recollect, was a +bookseller, and had long been in the habit of attending Lichfield +market, and opening a stall for the sale of his books during that day. +Confined to his bed by indisposition, he requested me, this time fifty +years ago, to visit the market, and attend the stall in his place. But, +madam, my pride prevented me from doing my duty, and I gave my father a +refusal. To do away the sin of this disobedience, I this day went in a +post-chaise to Lichfield, and going into the market at the time of high +business, uncovered my head, and stood with it bare an hour before the +stall which my father had formerly used, exposed to the sneers of the +standers-by and the inclemency of the weather--a penance by which I +hope I have propitiated Heaven for this only instance, I believe, of +contumacy towards my father." + + Warner's _Tour in the Northern +Counties_. + + + +[Notes: _Dr. Samuel Johnson_, born 1709, died 1784 By hard and unaided +toil he won his way to the front rank among the literary men of his day. +He deserves the honour of having been the first to free literature from +the thraldom of patronage. + + +_Filial piety_. Piety is used here not in a religious sense, but in its +stricter sense of dutifulness. In Virgil "the Pious Aneas" means "Aneas +who showed dutifulness to his father."] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +THE OLD PHILOSOPHER AND THE YOUNG LADY. + + + "Alas!" exclaimed a silver-headed sage, "how narrow is the +utmost extent of human knowledge! I have spent my life in acquiring +knowledge, but how little do I know! The farther I attempt to penetrate +the secrets of nature, the more I am bewildered and benighted. Beyond +a certain limit all is but conjecture: so that the advantage of the +learned over the ignorant consists greatly in having ascertained how +little is to be known. + +"It is true that I can measure the sun, and compute the distances of the +planets; I can calculate their periodical movements, and even ascertain +the laws by which they perform their sublime revolutions; but with +regard to their construction, to the beings which inhabit them, their +condition and circumstances, what do I know more than the clown?-- +Delighting to examine the economy of nature in our own world, I have +analyzed the elements, and given names to their component parts. And +yet, should I not be as much at a loss to explain the burning of fire, +or to account for the liquid quality of water, as the vulgar, who use +and enjoy them without thought or examination?--I remark, that all +bodies, unsupported, fall to the ground, and I am taught to account for +this by the law of gravitation. But what have I gained here more than +a term? Does it convey to my mind any idea of the nature of that +mysterious and invisible chain which draws all things to a common +centre?--Pursuing the track of the naturalist, I have learned to +distinguish the animal, the vegetable, and the mineral kingdoms, and to +divide these into their distinct tribes and families;--but can I +tell, after all this toil, whence a single blade of grass derives its +vitality?--Could the most minute researches enable me to discover the +exquisite pencil that paints the flower of the field? and have I ever +detected the secret that gives their brilliant dye to the ruby and the +emerald, or the art that enamels the delicate shell?--I observe the +sagacity of animals--I call it instinct, and speculate upon its various +degrees of approximation to the reason of man; but, after all, I know as +little of the cogitations of the brute as he does of mine. When I see a +flight of birds overhead, performing their evolutions, or steering +their course to some distant settlement, their signals and cries are +as unintelligible to me as are the learned languages to an unlettered +mechanic: I understand as little of their policy and laws as they do of +'Blackstone's Commentaries.' + +"Alas! then, what have I gained by my laborious researches but an +humbling conviction of my weakness and ignorance! Of how little has +man, at his best estate, to boast! What folly in him to glory in his +contracted powers, or to value himself upon his imperfect acquisitions!" + + * * * * * + +"Well!" exclaimed a young lady, just returned from school, "my education +is at last finished: indeed, it would be strange if, after five years' +hard application, anything were left incomplete. Happily, it is all over +now, and I have nothing to do but exercise my various accomplishments. + +"Let me see!--as to French, I am mistress of that, and speak it, if +possible, with more fluency than English. Italian I can read with ease, +and pronounce very well, as well at least, and better, than any of my +friends; and that is all one need wish for in Italian. Music I have +learned till I am perfectly sick of it. But, now that we have a grand +piano, it will be delightful to play when we have company. And then +there are my Italian songs, which everybody allows I sing with taste, +and as it is what so few people can pretend to, I am particularly glad +that I can. My drawings are universally admired, especially the shells +and flowers, which are beautiful, certainly: besides this, I have a +decided taste in all kinds of fancy ornaments. And then, my dancing and +waltzing, in which our master himself owned that he could take me no +farther;--just the figure for it certainly! it would be unpardonable +if I did not excel. As to common things, geography, and history, and +poetry, and philosophy, thank my stars, I have got through them all! so +that I may consider myself not only perfectly accomplished, but also +thoroughly well informed. + +"Well, to be sure, how much I have fagged through; the only wonder is +that one head can contain it all!" + + JANE TAYLOR. + + +[Note: "_Blackstone's Commentaries_" The great standard work on +the theory and practice of the English law; written by Sir William +Blackstone (1723-1780).] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + + THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. + + + Under a spreading chestnut tree, + The village smithy stands; + The smith, a mighty man is he, + With large and sinewy hands; + And the muscles of his brawny arms + Are strong as iron bands. + + His hair is crisp, and black, and long, + His face is like the tan; + His brow is wet with honest sweat, + He earns whate'er he can, + And looks the whole world in the face, + For he owes not any man. + + Week in, week out, from morn till night, + You can hear his bellows blow; + You can hear him swing his heavy sledge, + With measured beat and slow, + Like a sexton ringing the village bell, + When the evening sun is low. + + And children coming home from school + Look in at the open door; + They love to see the flaming forge, + And hear the bellows roar, + And catch the burning sparks that fly + Like chaff from a threshing-floor. + + He goes on Sunday to the church, + And sits among his boys; + He hears the parson pray and preach, + He hears his daughter's voice + Singing in the village choir, + And it makes his heart rejoice. + + It sounds to him like her mother's voice, + Singing in Paradise! + He needs must think of her once more, + How in the grave she lies; + And with his hard, rough hand he wipes + A tear out of his eyes. + + Toiling,--rejoicing,--sorrowing, + Onward through life he goes; + Each morning sees some task begin, + Each evening sees it close; + Something attempted, something done, + Has earned a night's repose. + + Thanks, thanks to thee, my worthy friend, + For the lesson thou hast taught! + Thus at the flaming forge of life + Our fortunes must be wrought; + Thus on its sounding anvil shaped + Each burning deed and thought! + + + H.W. LONGFLLLOW. + + + +[Notes: _Henry Wadsworth Longfellow_, one of the foremost among +contemporary American poets. Born in 1807. His chief poems are +'Evangeline' and 'Hiawatha.' + + +_His face is like the tan. Tan_ is the bark of the oak, bruised and +broken for tanning leather. + + +_Thus at the flaming forge of life, &c._ = As iron is softened at +the forge and beaten into shape on the anvil, so by the trials and +circumstances of life, our thoughts and actions are influenced and our +characters and destinies decided. The metaphor is made more complicated +by being broken up.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + + MEN OF ENGLAND. + + + Men of England! who inherit + Rights that cost your sires their blood! + Men whose undegenerate spirit + Has been proved on land and flood: + + By the foes ye've fought uncounted, + By the glorious deeds ye've done, + Trophies captured--breaches mounted, + Navies conquer'd--kingdoms won! + + Yet remember, England gathers + Hence but fruitless wreaths of fame, + If the virtues of your fathers + Glow not in your hearts the same. + + What are monuments of bravery, + Where no public virtues bloom? + What avail in lands of slavery + Trophied temples, arch, and tomb? + + Pageants!--let the world revere us + For our people's rights and laws, + And the breasts of civic heroes + Bared in Freedom's holy cause. + + Yours are Hampden's Russell's glory, + Sydney's matchless shade is your,-- + Martyrs in heroic story, + Worth a thousand Agincourts! + + We're the sons of sires that baffled + Crown'd and mitred tyranny: + They defied the field and scaffold, + For their birthrights--so will we. + + CAMPBELL. + + + +[Notes: _Thomas Campbell_, born 1777, died 1844. Author of the +'Pleasures of Hope,' 'Gertrude of Wyoming,' and many lyrics. His poetry +is careful, scholarlike and polished. _Men whose undegenerate spirit, +&c._ In prose, this would run, "(Ye) men whose spirit has been proved +(to be) undegenerate," &c. The word "undegenerate," which is introduced +only as an epithet, is the real predicate of the sentence. + + +_By the foes ye've fought uncounted_. "Uncounted" agreeing with "foes." + + +_Fruitless wreaths of fame_. A poetical figure, taken from the wreaths +of laurel given as prizes in the ancient games of Greece. "Past history +will give fame to a country, but nothing more fruitful than fame, unless +its virtues are kept alive." + + +_Trophied temples, i.e.,_ Temples hung (after the fashion of the +ancients) with trophies. + + +_Arch, i.e_., the triumphal arch erected by the Romans in honour of +victorious generals. + + +_Pageants_ = "these are nought but pageants." + + +_And_ (for) _the beasts of civic heroes_. Civic heroes, those who have +striven for the rights of their fellow citizens. + + +_Hampden, i.e_., John Hampden (born 1594, died 1643), the maintainer +of the rights of the people in the reign of Charles I. He resisted the +imposition of ship-money, and died in a skirmish at Chalgrove during the +Civil War. + + +_Russell, i.e_., Lord William Russell, beheaded in 1683, in the reign +of Charles II. on a charge of treason. He had resisted the Court in its +aims at establishing the doctrine of passive obedience. + + +_Sydney, i.e.,_ Algernon Sydney. The friend of Russell, who met with the +same fate in the same year. + + +_Sydney's matchless shade_. Shade = spirit or memory. + + +_Agincourt_. The victory won by Henry V. in France, in 1415. + + +_Crown'd and mitred tyranny_. Explain this.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +BARBABA S----. + + +On the noon of the 14th of November, 1743, just as the clock had struck +one, Barbara S----, with her accustomed punctuality, ascended the long, +rabbling staircase, with awkward interposed landing-places, which led to +the office, or rather a sort of box with a desk in it, whereat sat the +then Treasurer of the Old Bath Theatre. All over the island it was the +custom, and remains so I believe to this day, for the players to receive +their weekly stipend on the Saturday. It was not much that Barbara had +to claim. + +This little maid had just entered her eleventh year; but her important +station at the theatre, as it seemed to her, with the benefits which she +felt to accrue from her pious application of her small earnings, had +given an air of womanhood her steps and to her behaviour. You would have +taken her to have been at least five years older. Till latterly she had +merely been employed in choruses, or where children were wanted to fill +up the scene. But the manager, observing a diligence and adroitness in +her above her age, had for some few months past intrusted to her the +performance of whole parts. You may guess the self-consequence of the +promoted Barbara. + + * * * * * + +The parents of Barbara had been in reputable circumstances. The father +had practised, I believe, as an apothecary in the town. But his +practice, from causes for which he was himself to blame, or perhaps from +that pure infelicity which accompanies some people in their walk through +life, and which it is impossible to lay at the door of imprudence, +was now reduced to nothing. They were, in fact, in the very teeth of +starvation, when the manager, who knew and respected them in better +days, took the little Barbara into his company. + +At the period I commenced with, her slender earnings were the sole +support of the family, including two younger sisters. I must throw +a veil over some mortifying circumstances. Enough to say, that her +Saturday's pittance was the only chance of a Sunday's meal of meat. + +This was the little starved, meritorious maid, stood before old +Ravenscroft, the treasurer, for her Saturday's payment. Ravenscroft was +a man, I have heard many old theatrical people besides herself say, of +all men least calculated for a treasurer. He had no head for accounts, +paid away at random, kept scarce any books, and summing up at the week's +end, if he found himself a pound or so deficient, blest himself that it +was no more. + +Now Barbara's weekly stipend was a bare half-guinea. By mistake he +popped into her hand a whole one. + +Barbara tripped away. + +She was entirely unconscious at first of the mistake: God knows, +Ravenscroft would never have discovered it. + +But when she had got down to the first of those uncouth landing-places +she became sensible of an unusual weight of metal pressing her little +hand. + +Now, mark the dilemma. + +She was by nature a good child. From her parents and those about her she +had imbibed no contrary influence. But then they had taught her nothing. +Poor men's smoky cabins are not always porticoes of moral philosophy. +This little maid had no instinct to evil, but then she might be said +to have no fixed principle. She had heard honesty commended, but never +dreamed of its application to herself. She thought of it as something +which concerned grown-up people, men and women. She had never known +temptation, or thought of preparing resistance against it. + +Her first impulse was to go back to the old treasurer, and explain to +him his blunder. He was already so confused with age, besides a natural +want of punctuality, that she would have had some difficulty in making +him understand it. She saw _that_ in an instant. And then it was such a +bit of money: and then the image of a larger allowance of butcher's meat +on their table next day came across her, till her little eyes glistened, +and her mouth moistened. But then Mr. Ravenscroft had always been +so good-natured, had stood her friend behind the scenes, and even +recommended her promotion to some of her little parts. But again the old +man was reputed to be worth a world of money. He was supposed to have +fifty pounds a year clear of the theatre. And then came staring upon her +the figures of her little stockingless and shoeless sisters. And when +she looked at her own neat white cotton stockings, which her situation +at the theatre had made it indispensable for her mother to provide for +her, with hard straining and pinching from the family stock, and thought +how glad she should be to cover their poor feet with the same, and how +then they could accompany her to rehearsals, which they had hitherto +been precluded from doing, by reason of their unfashionable attire,--in +these thoughts she reached the second landing-place--the second, I mean, +from the top--for there was still another left to traverse. + +Now, virtue, support Barbara! + +And that never-failing friend did step in; for at that moment a strength +not her own, I have heard her say, was revealed to her--a reason above +reasoning--and without her own agency, as it seemed (for she never felt +her feet to move), she found herself transported back to the individual +desk she had just quitted, and her hand in the old hand of Ravenscroft, +who in silence took back the refunded treasure, and who had been sitting +(good man) insensible to the lapse of minutes, which to her were anxious +ages; and from that moment a deep peace fell upon her heart, and she +knew the quality of honesty. + +A year or two's unrepining application to her profession brightened up +the feet and the prospects of her little sisters, set the whole +family upon their legs again, and released her from the difficulty of +discussing moral dogmas upon a landing-place. + + _Essays of Elia_, by CHARLES LAMB. + + + + + * * * * * + + + + + A BALLAD. + + + "Turn, gentle Hermit of the dale, + And guide my lonely way + To where yon taper cheers the vale + With hospitable ray. + + "For here forlorn and lost I tread, + With fainting steps and slow, + Where wilds, immeasurably spread, + Seem lengthening as I go." + + "Forbear, my son," the Hermit cries, + "To tempt the dangerous gloom; + For yonder faithless phantom flies + To lure thee to thy doom. + + "Here to the houseless child of want + My door is open still; + And, though my portion is but scant, + I give it with good will. + + "Then turn to-night, and freely share + Whate'er my cell bestows; + My rushy couch and frugal fare, + My blessing and repose. + + "No flocks that range the valley free + To slaughter I condemn; + Taught by that Power that pities me, + I learn to pity them: + + "But from the mountain's grassy side + A guiltless feast I bring; + A scrip with herbs and fruits supplied, + And water from the spring. + + "Then, pilgrim turn; thy cares forego; + All earth-born cares are wrong: + Man wants but little here below, + Nor wants that little long." + + Soft as the dew from heaven descends + His gentle accents fell: + The modest stranger lowly bends, + And follows to the cell. + + Far in a wilderness obscure + The lonely mansion lay, + A refuge to the neighbouring poor, + And strangers led astray. + + No stores beneath its humble thatch + Required a master's care; + The wicket, opening with a latch, + Received the harmless pair. + + And now, when busy crowds retire + To take their evening rest, + The Hermit trimm'd his little fire, + And cheer'd his pensive guest; + + And spread his vegetable store, + And gaily pressed, and smiled; + And, skill'd in legendary lore, + The lingering hours beguiled. + + Around, in sympathetic mirth, + Its tricks the kitten tries, + The cricket chirrups on the hearth, + The crackling faggot flies. + + But nothing could a charm impart + To soothe the stranger's woe; + For grief was heavy at his heart, + And tears began to flow. + + His rising cares the Hermit spied, + With answering care oppress'd; + And, "Whence, unhappy youth," he cried, + "The sorrows of thy breast?" + + "From better habitations spurn'd, + Reluctant dost thou rove? + Or grieve for friendship unreturn'd, + Or unregarded love?" + + "Alas! the joys that fortune brings + Are trifling, and decay; + And those who prize the paltry things, + More trifling still are they." + + "And what is friendship but a name, + A charm that lulls to sleep; + A shade that follows wealth or fame, + But leaves the wretch to weep?" + + "And love is still an emptier sound, + The modern fair one's jest; + On earth unseen, or only found + To warm the turtle's nest." + + "For shame, fond youth, thy sorrows hush, + And spurn the sex," he said; + But while he spoke, a rising blush + His love-lorn guest betray'd. + + Surprised he sees new beauties rise, + Swift mantling to the view; + Like colours o'er the morning skies, + As bright, as transient too. + + The bashful look, the rising breast, + Alternate spread alarms: + The lovely stranger stands confess'd + A maid in all her charms. + + And, "Ah! forgive a stranger rude-- + A wretch forlorn," she cried; + "Whose feet unhallow'd thus intrude + Where Heaven and you reside." + + "But let a maid thy pity share, + Whom love has taught to stray; + Who seeks for rest, but finds despair + Companion of her way." + + "My father lived beside the Tyne, + A wealthy lord was he; + And all his wealth was mark'd as mine, + He had but only me." + + "To win me from his tender arms + Unnumber'd suitors came, + Who praised me for imputed charms, + And felt, or feign'd, a flame." + + "Each hour a mercenary crowd + With richest proffers strove: + Amongst the rest, young Edwin bow'd, + But never talk'd of love." + + "In humble, simple habit clad, + No wealth nor power had he: + Wisdom and worth were all he had, + But these were all to me. + + "And when, beside me in the dale, + He caroll'd lays of love, + His breath lent fragrance to the gale, + And music to the grove. + + "The blossom opening to the day, + The dews of heaven refined, + Could nought of purity display + To emulate his mind. + + "The dew, the blossom on the tree, + With charms inconstant shine: + Their charms were his, but, woe to me, + Their constancy was mine. + + "For still I tried each fickle art, + Importunate and vain; + And, while his passion touch'd my heart, + I triumph'd in his pain: + + "Till, quite dejected with my scorn, + He left me to my pride; + And sought a solitude forlorn, + In secret, where he died. + + "But mine the sorrow, mine the fault, + And well my life shall pay: + I'll seek the solitude he sought, + And stretch me where he lay. + + "And there, forlorn, despairing, hid, + I'll lay me down and die; + 'Twas so for me that Edwin did, + And so for him will I." + + "Forbid it, Heaven!" the Hermit cried, + And clasp'd her to his breast: + The wondering fair one turn'd to chide-- + 'Twas Edwin's self that press'd! + + "Turn, Angelina, ever dear, + My charmer, turn to see + Thy own, thy long-lost Edwin here, + Restored to love and thee. + + "Thus let me hold thee to my heart, + And every care resign: + And shall we never, never part, + My life--my all that's mine? + + "No, never from this hour to part, + We'll live and love so true, + The sigh that rends thy constant heart + Shall break thy Edwin's too." + GOLDSMITH. + + + +[Notes: _Oliver Goldsmith_, poet and novelist. The friend and +contemporary of Johnson, Burke, and Reynolds. Born 1728, died 1774. + +This poem is introduced into 'The Vicar of Wakefield,' and Goldsmith +there says of it, "It is at least free from the false taste of loading +the lines with epithets;" or as he puts it more fully "a string of +epithets that improve the sound without carrying on the sense." + + +"_Immeasurably spread_" = spread to an immeasurable length. + + +_No flocks that range the valleys free_. "Free" may be joined either +with flocks or with valley. + +Note the position of the negative, "No flocks that range," &c. = I do +not condemn the flocks that range. + + +_Guiltless feast_. Because it does not involve the death of a +fellow-creature. + + + _Scrip_. A purse or wallet; a word of Teutonic origin. +Distinguish from scrip, a writing or certificate, from the Latin word +_scribo_, I write. + + +_Far in a wilderness obscure_. Obscure goes with mansion, not with +wilderness. + + +_And gaily pressed_ (him to eat). + + +_With answering care_, i.e., with sympathetic care. + + + _A charm that lulls to sleep_. Charm is here in its proper +sense: that of a thing pleasing to the fancy is derivative. + + +_A shade that follows wealth or fame_. A shade = a ghost or phantom. + + +_Swift mantling_, &c. Spreading quickly over, like a cloak or mantle. + + +_Where heaven and you reside_ = where you, whose only thoughts are of +Heaven, reside. + + +_Whom love has taught to stray_. This use of the word "taught" for +"made" or "forced," is taken from a Latin idiom, as in Virgil, "He +_teaches_ the woods to ring with the name of Amaryllis." It is stronger +than "made" or "forced," and implies, as here, that she had forgotten +all but the wandering life that is now hers. + + +_He had but only me_. But or only is redundant. + + +_To emulate his mind_ = to be equal to his mind in purity. + + +_Their constancy was mine_. This verse has often been accused of +violating sense; but, however artificial the expression may be, neither +the sense is obscure, nor the way of expressing it inaccurate. It +is evidently only another way of saying "in the little they had of +constancy they resembled me as they resembled him in their charms."] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +DR. ARNOLD. + + +We listened, as all boys in their better moods will listen (ay, and men +too, for the matter of that), to a man whom we felt to be, with all his +heart and soul and strength, striving against whatever was mean and +unmanly and unrighteous in our little world. It was not the cold, clear +voice of one giving advice and warning from serene heights to those who +were struggling and sinning below, but the warm, living voice of one who +was fighting for us, and by our sides, and calling on us to help him and +ourselves and one another. And so, wearily and little by little, but +surely and steadily on the whole, was brought home to the young boy, +for the first time, the meaning of his life: that it was no fool's +or sluggard's paradise into which he had wandered by chance, but a +battle-field ordained from of old, where there are no spectators, but +the youngest must take his side, and the stakes are life and death. And +he who roused this consciousness in them showed them, at the same time, +by every word he spoke in the pulpit, and by his whole daily life, +how that battle was to be fought; and stood there before them, their +fellow-soldier and the captain of their band. The true sort of captain, +too, for a boy's army, one who had no misgivings, and gave no uncertain +word of command, and, let who would yield or make truce, would fight +the fight out (so every boy felt) to the last gasp and the last drop of +blood. Other sides of his character might take hold of and influence +boys here and there, but it was this thoroughness and undaunted courage +which more than anything else won his way to the hearts of the great +mass of those on whom he left his mark, and made them believe first in +him, and then in his Master. + +It was this quality, above all others, which moved such boys as Tom +Brown, who had nothing whatever remarkable about him except excess of +boyishness; by which I mean animal life in its fullest measure; good +nature and honest impulses, hatred of injustice and meanness, and +thoughtlessness enough to sink a three-decker. And so, during the next +two years, in which it was more than doubtful whether he would get good +or evil from the school, and before any steady purpose or principle grew +up in him, whatever his week's sins and shortcomings might have been, he +hardly ever left the chapel on Sunday evenings without a serious resolve +to stand by and follow the doctor, and a feeling that it was only +cowardice (the incarnation of all other sins in such a boy's mind) which +hindered him from doing so with all his heart. + + _Tom Brown's School Days_. + + + +[Note: _Dr. Arnold_, the head-master of Rugby School, died 1842. +His life, which gives an account of the work done by him to promote +education, has been written by Dean Stanley.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + + MARTYRS + + + Patriots have toil'd, and in their country's cause + Bled nobly; and their deeds, as they deserve, + Receive proud recompense. We give in charge + Their names to the sweet lyre. The Historic Muse, + Proud of the treasure, marches with it down + To latest times; and Sculpture, in her turn, + Gives bond in stone and ever-during brass + To guard them, and to immortalize her trust. + But fairer wreaths are due--though never paid-- + To those who, posted at the shrine of Truth, + Have fallen in her defence. A patriot's blood, + Well spent in such a strife, may earn indeed, + And for a time ensure, to his loved land + The sweets of liberty and equal laws; + But martyrs struggle for a brighter prize, + And win it with more pain. Their blood is shed + In confirmation of the noblest claim,-- + Our claim to feed upon immortal truth, + To walk with God, to be divinely free, + To soar and to anticipate the skies.-- + Yet few remember them! They lived unknown, + Till persecution dragged them into fame, + And chased them up to Heaven. Their ashes flew-- + No marble tells us whither. With their names + No bard embalms and sanctifies his song; + And History, so warm on meaner themes, + Is cold on this. She execrates indeed + The tyranny that doom'd them to the fire, + But gives the glorious sufferers little praise. + + COWPER. + + +[Notes:_William Cowper_ (born 1731, died 1800), the author of 'The +Task,' 'Progress of Error,' 'Truth,' and many other poems; all marked by +the same pure thought and chaste language. + +This poem is written in what is called "blank verse," i.e., verse in +which the lines do not rhyme, the rhythm depending on the measure of the +verse. + + +_To the sweet lyre_ = To the poet, whose lyre (or poetry) is to keep +their names alive. + + +_The Historic Muse_. The ancients held that there were nine Muses or +Goddesses who presided over the arts and sciences; and of these, one was +the Muse of History. + + +_Gives bond in stone, &c._ = Pledges herself. The pith of the phrase is +in its almost homely simplicity, the more striking in its contrast with +the classical allusions by which it is surrounded. + + +_Her trust_, i.e., what is trusted to her. + + +_To anticipate the skies_ = to ennoble our life and so approach that +higher life we hope for after death. + + +_Till persecution dragged them into fame_ = forced them by its cruelty +to become famous against their will. + + +_No marble tells us whither_. Because they have no tombstone and no +epitaph.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + + A PSALM OF LIFE. + + + Tell me not in mournful numbers, + Life is but an empty dream! + For the soul is dead that slumbers, + And things are not what they seem. + + Life is real! Life is earnest! + And the grave is not its goal; + "Dust thou art, to dust returnest;" + Was not spoken of the soul. + + Not enjoyment, and not sorrow, + Is our destined end or way; + But to act that each to-morrow + Finds us farther than to-day. + + Art is long, and Time is fleeting, + And our hearts, though stout and brave, + Still like muffled drums are beating + Funeral marches to the grave. + + In the world's broad field of battle, + In the Bivouac of life, + Be not like dumb, driven cattle! + Be a hero in the strife! + + Trust no Future, howe'er pleasant! + Let the dead Past bury its dead! + Act--act in the living Present! + Heart within, and God o'erhead! + + Lives of great men all remind us + We can make our lives sublime, + And, departing, leave behind us + Footprints on the sands of time;-- + + Footprints, that perhaps another, + Sailing o'er life's solemn main, + A forlorn and shipwrecked brother, + Seeing, shall take heart again. + + Let us, then, be up and doing, + With a heart for any fate; + Still achieving, still pursuing, + Learn to labour and to wait. + + H.W. LONGFELLOW. + + + +[Notes:_Art is long, and time is fleeting_. A translation from the +Latin, _Ars longa, vita brevis est._ + + +The metaphor in the last two stanzas in this page is strangely mixed. +Footprints could hardly be seen by those sailing over the main.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +BOYHOOD'S WORK. + +In no place in the world has individual character more weight than at +a public school. Remember this, I beseech you, all you boys who are +getting into the upper forms. Now is the time in all your lives, +probably, when you may have more wide influence for good or evil in the +society you live in than you ever can have again. Quit yourselves like +men, then; speak up, and strike out, if necessary, for whatsoever +is true, and manly, and lovely, and of good report; never try to be +popular, but only to do your duty, and help others to do theirs, and you +may leave the tone of feeling in the school higher than you found it, +and so be doing good, which no living soul can measure, to generations +of your countrymen yet unborn. For boys follow one another in herds like +sheep, for good or evil; they hate thinking, and have rarely any settled +principles. Every school, indeed, has its own traditionary standard of +right and wrong, which cannot be transgressed with impunity, marking +certain things as low and blackguard, and certain others as lawful and +right. This standard is ever varying, though it changes only slowly, and +little by little; and, subject only to such standard, it is the leading +boys for the time being who give the tone to all the rest, and make +the school either a noble institution for the training of Christian +Englishmen, or a place where a young boy will get more evil than he +would if he were turned out to make his way in London streets, or +anything between these two extremes. + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +WORK IN THE WORLD. + +"I want to be at work in the world," said Tom, "and not dawdling away +three years at Oxford." + +"What do you mean by 'at work in the world?'" said the master, pausing, +with his lips close to his saucerful of tea, and peering at Tom over it. + +"Well, I mean real work; one's profession, whatever one will have really +to do, and make one's living by. I want to be doing some real good, +feeling that I am not only at play in the world," answered Tom, rather +puzzled to find out himself what he really did mean. + +"You are mixing up two very different things in your head, I think, +Brown," said the master, putting down the empty saucer, "and you ought +to get clear about them. You talk of 'working to get your living,' and +'doing some real good in the world,' in the same breath. Now, you may be +getting a very good living in a profession, and yet doing no good at all +in the world, but quite the contrary, at the same time. Keep the latter +before you as your one object, and you will be right, whether you make +a living or not; but if you dwell on the other, you'll very likely drop +into mere money-making, and let the world take care of itself, for good +or evil. Don't be in a hurry about finding your work in the world for +yourself; you are not old enough to judge for yourself yet, but just +look about you in the place you find yourself in, and try to make things +a little better and honester there. You'll find plenty to keep your hand +in at Oxford, or wherever else you go. And don't be led away to think +this part of the world important, and that unimportant. Every corner of +the world is important. No man knows whether this part or that is most +so, but every man may do some honest work in his own corner." + + _Tom Brown's School Days_. + + + + + * * * * * + + + + + THE ANT AND THE CATERPILLAR + + + As an ant, of his talents superiorly vain, + Was trotting, with consequence, over the plain, + A worm, in his progress remarkably slow, + Cried--"Bless your good worship wherever you go; + I hope your great mightiness won't take it ill, + I pay my respects with a hearty good-will." + With a look of contempt, and impertinent pride, + "Begone, you vile reptile," his antship replied; + "Go--go, and lament your contemptible state, + But first--look at me--see my limbs how complete; + I guide all my motions with freedom and ease, + Run backward and forward, and turn when I please; + Of nature (grown weary) you shocking essay! + I spurn you thus from me--crawl out of my way." + The reptile, insulted and vex'd to the soul, + Crept onwards, and hid himself close in his hole; + But nature, determined to end his distress, + Soon sent him abroad in a butterfly's dress. + Erelong the proud ant, as repassing the road, + (Fatigued from the harvest, and tugging his load), + The beau on a violet-bank he beheld, + Whose vesture, in glory, a monarch's excelled; + His plumage expanded--'twas rare to behold + So lovely a mixture of purple and gold. + The ant, quite amazed at a figure so gay, + Bow'd low with respect, and was trudging away. + "Stop, friend," says the butterfly; "don't be surprised, + I once was the reptile you spurn'd and despised; + But now I can mount, in the sunbeams I play, + While you must for ever drudge on in your way." + + CUNNINGHAM. + + +[Note: _Of nature (grown weary) you shocking essay_ = you wretched +attempt (= essay) by nature, when she had grown weary.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + + REPORT + OF AN ADJUDGED CASE, NOT TO BE FOUND IN + ANY OF THE BOOKS. + + + Between Nose and Eyes a strange contest arose. + The spectacles set them unhappily wrong; + The point in dispute was, as all the world knows, + To which the said spectacles ought to belong. + + So Tongue was the lawyer, and argued the cause, + With a great deal of skill, and a wig full of learning, + While chief baron Ear sat to balance the laws, + So fam'd for his talent in nicely discerning. + + In behalf of the Nose it will quickly appear, + And your lordship, he said, will undoubtedly find, + That the nose has had spectacles always in wear, + Which amounts to possession time out of mind. + + Then holding the spectacles up to the court-- + Your lordship observes they are made with a straddle, + As wide as the ridge of the nose is; in short, + Designed to sit close to it, just like a saddle. + + Again, would your lordship a moment suppose + ('Tis a case that has happen'd, and may be again) + That the visage or countenance had not a nose, + Pray who would, or who could, wear spectacles then? + + On the whole it appears, and my argument shows, + With a reasoning the court will never condemn, + That the spectacles plainly were made for the Nose, + And the Nose was as plainly intended for them. + + Then shifting his side as a lawyer knows how, + He pleaded again in behalf of the Eyes; + But what were his arguments few people know, + For the court did not think they were equally wise. + + So his lordship decreed, with a grave, solemn tone, + Decisive and clear, without one _if_ or _but_-- + That, whenever the Nose put his Spectacles on, + By daylight or candlelight--Eyes should be shut! + + COWPER. + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +CASTLES IN THE AIR. + + +Alnaschar was a very idle fellow, that never would set his hand to any +business during his father's life. When his father died he left him to +the value of a hundred drachmas in Persian money. Alnaschar, in order +to make the best of it, laid it out in bottles, glasses, and the finest +earthenware. These he piled up in a large open basket; and, having made +choice of a very little shop, placed the basket at his feet, and leaned +his back upon the wall in expectation of customers. As he sat in this +posture, with his eyes upon the basket, he fell into a most amusing +train of thought, and was overheard by one of his neighbours, as he +talked to himself in the following manner:--"This basket," says he, +"cost me at the wholesale merchant's a hundred drachmas, which is all I +had in the world. I shall quickly make two hundred of it by selling it +in retail. These two hundred drachmas will in a very little while rise +to four hundred; which, of course, will amount in time to four thousand. +Four thousand drachmas cannot fail of making eight thousand. As soon as +by these means I am master of ten thousand, I will lay aside my trade of +a glass-man and turn jeweller. I shall then deal in diamonds, pearls, +and all sorts of rich stones. When I have got together as much wealth +as I can well desire, I will make a purchase of the finest house I can +find, with lands, slaves, and horses. I shall then begin to enjoy myself +and make a noise in the world. I will not, however, stop there; but +still continue my traffic until I have got together a hundred thousand +drachmas. When I have thus made myself master of a hundred thousand +drachmas, I shall naturally set myself on the footing of a prince, +and will demand the grand vizier's daughter in marriage, after having +represented to that minister the information which I have received of +the beauty, wit, discretion, and other high qualities which his daughter +possesses. I will let him know at the same time that it is my intention +to make him a present of a thousand pieces of gold on our marriage day. +As soon as I have married the grand vizier's daughter, I must make my +father-in-law a visit, with a great train and equipage. And when I am +placed at his right hand, which he will do of course, if it be only to +honour his daughter, I will give him the thousand pieces of gold which +I promised him; and afterwards, to his great surprise, will present him +with another purse of the same value, with some short speech: as, 'Sir, +you see I am a man of my word: I always give more than I promise.'" + +"When I have brought the princess to my house, I shall take particular +care to breed her in due respect for me. To this end I shall confine her +to her own apartments, make her a short visit, and talk but little to +her. Her women will represent to me that she is inconsolable by reason +of my unkindness; but I shall still remain inexorable. Her mother will +then come and bring her daughter to me, as I am seated on a sofa. The +daughter, with tears in her eyes, will fling herself at my feet, and beg +me to receive her into my favour. Then will I, to imprint her with a +thorough veneration for my person, draw up my legs, and spurn her from +me with my foot in such a manner that she shall fall down several paces +from the sofa." + +Alnaschar was entirely swallowed up in his vision, and could not forbear +acting with his foot what he had in his thoughts: so that, unluckily +striking his basket of brittle ware, which was the foundation of all his +grandeur, he kicked his glasses to a great distance from him into the +street, and broke them into ten thousand pieces. + + ADDISON. + + + +[Note: _Joseph Addison_, born 1672, died 1719. Chiefly famous as a +critic and essayist. His calm sense and judgment, and the attraction of +his style, have rendered his writings favourites from his own time to +ours.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + + THE INCHCAPE BELL. + + No stir on the air, no swell on the sea, + The ship was still as she might be: + The sails from heaven received no motion; + The keel was steady in the ocean. + + With neither sign nor sound of shock, + The waves flow'd o'er the Inchcape Rock; + So little they rose, so little they fell, + They did not move the Inchcape Bell. + + The pious abbot of Aberbrothock + Had placed that bell on the Inchcape Rock; + On the waves of the storm it floated and swung, + And louder and louder its warning rung. + + When the rock was hid by the tempest swell, + The mariners heard the warning bell, + And then they knew the perilous rock, + And blessed the abbot of Aberbrothock. + + The float of the Inchcape Bell was seen, + A darker spot on the ocean green. + Sir Ralph the Rover walked the deck, + And he fix'd his eye on the darker speck. + + His eye was on the bell and float,-- + Quoth he, "My men, put down the boat, + And row me to the Inchcape Rock,-- + I'll plague the priest of Aberbrothock!". + + The boat was lower'd, the boatmen row, + And to the Inchcape Rock they go. + Sir Ralph leant over from the boat, + And cut the bell from off the float. + + Down sunk the bell with a gurgling sound; + The bubbles rose, and burst around. + Quoth he, "Who next comes to the rock + Won't bless the priest of Aberbrothock!" + + Sir Ralph the Rover sail'd away; + He scour'd the sea for many a day; + And now, grown rich with plunder'd store, + He steers his way for Scotland's shore. + + So thick a haze o'erspread the sky, + They could not see the sun on high; + The wind had blown a gale all day; + At evening it hath died away. + + "Canst hear," said one, "the breakers roar? + For yonder, methinks, should be the shore. + Now, where we are, I cannot tell,-- + I wish we heard the Inchcape Bell." + + They heard no sound--the swell is strong, + Though the wind hath fallen they drift along: + Till the vessel strikes with a shivering shock, + "Oh heavens! it is the Inchcape Rock!" + + Sir Ralph the Rover tore his hair, + And cursed himself in his despair; + And waves rush in on every side, + The ship sinks fast beneath the tide. + + + SOUTHEY. + + +[Notes: _Robert Southey_, born 1774, died 1848. Poet Laureate and author +of numerous works in prose and verse.] + + +_Quoth_. Saxon _Cwaethan_, to say. A Perfect now used only in the first +and third persons singular of the present indicative; the nominative +following the verb. + + +_Till the vessel strikes with a shivering shock_. Notice the effective +use of alliteration (_i.e_., the recurrence of words beginning with the +same letter), which is the basis of old-English rhythm.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +THE DEATH OF NELSON. + + +It had been part of Nelson's prayer that the British fleet might be +distinguished by humanity in the victory he expected. Setting an example +himself, he twice gave orders to cease firing upon the 'Redoubtable,' +supposing that she had struck because her great guns were silent; for, +as she carried no flag, there was no means of instantly ascertaining the +fact. From this ship, which he had thus twice spared, he received his +death. A ball, fired from her mizen-top, which, in the then situation of +the two vessels, was not more than fifteen yards from that part of the +deck where he was standing, struck the epaulette on his left shoulder, +about a quarter after one, just in the heat of action. He fell upon his +face, on the spot which was covered with his poor secretary's blood. +Hardy (his captain), who was a few steps from him, turning round, saw +three men raising him up. + +"They have done for me at last, Hardy," said he. + +"I hope not," cried Hardy. "Yes," he replied, "my backbone is shot +through." + +Yet even now, not for a moment losing his presence of mind, he observed, +as they were carrying him down the ladder, that the tiller ropes, which +had been shot away, were not yet replaced, and ordered that new ones +should be rove immediately; then, that he might not be seen by the crew, +he took out his handkerchief, and covered his face and his stars. Had he +but concealed these badges of honour from the enemy, England, perhaps, +would not have had cause to receive with sorrow the news of the battle +of Trafalgar. The cockpit was crowded with wounded and dying men, over +whose bodies he was with some difficulty conveyed, and laid upon +a pallet in the midshipmen's berth. It was soon perceived, upon +examination, that the wound was mortal. This, however, was concealed +from all except Captain Hardy, the chaplain, and the medical attendants. +He himself being certain, from the sensation in his back, and the gush +of blood he felt momently within his breast, that no human care could +avail him, insisted that the surgeon should leave him, and attend to +those to whom he might be useful; "For," said he, "you can do nothing +for me." All that could be done was to fan him with paper, and +frequently to give him lemonade to alleviate his intense thirst. He was +in great pain, and expressed much anxiety for the event of the action, +which now began to declare itself. As often as a ship struck, the crew +of the 'Victory' hurrahed, and at every hurrah a visible expression of +joy gleamed in the eyes and marked the countenance of the dying hero. + +But he became impatient to see Captain Hardy; and as that officer, +though often sent for, could not leave the deck, Nelson feared some +fatal cause prevented him, and repeatedly cried, "Will no one bring +Hardy to me? He must be killed! He is surely dead!" + +An hour and ten minutes elapsed from the time when Nelson received his +wound before Hardy could come to him. They shook hands in silence, Hardy +in vain struggling to suppress the feelings of that most painful yet +sublimest moment. "Well, Hardy," said Nelson, "how goes the day with +us?" "Very well," replied Hardy; "ten ships have struck, but five of the +van have tacked, and show an intention to bear down upon the 'Victory.' +I have called two or three of our fresh ships round, and have no doubt +of giving them a drubbing." "I hope," said Nelson, "none of our ships +have struck?" Hardy answered, "There was no fear of that." Then, and not +till then, Nelson spoke of himself. "I am a dead man, Hardy," said he; +"I am going fast; it will be all over with me soon; come nearer to me." +Hardy observed that he hoped Mr. Beattie (the surgeon) could yet hold +out some prospect of life. "Oh no," he replied, "it is impossible; my +back is shot through--Beattie will tell you so." Captain Hardy then once +more shook hands with him, and, with a heart almost bursting, hastened +upon deck. + +By this time all feeling below the breast was gone; and Nelson, having +made the surgeon ascertain this, said to him, "You know I am gone; I +know it--I feel something rising in my breast (putting his hand on his +left side) which tells me so." And upon Beattie's inquiring whether +his pain was very great, he replied, "So great, that he wished he were +dead." "Yet," said he, in a lower voice, "one would like to live a +little longer too!" + +Captain Hardy, some fifty minutes after he had left the cockpit, +returned, and again taking the hand of his dying friend and commander, +congratulated him on having gained a complete victory. How many of the +enemy were taken, he did not know, as it was impossible to perceive +them distinctly, but fourteen or fifteen at least. "That's well," cried +Nelson, "but I bargained for twenty." And then, in a stronger voice, +he said, "Anchor,! Hardy, anchor." Hardy upon this hinted that Admiral +Collingwood would take upon himself the direction of affairs. "Not while +I live, Hardy," said the dying Nelson, ineffectually endeavouring to +raise himself from the bed; "do you anchor." His previous order for +preparing to anchor had shown how clearly he foresaw the necessity of +this. Presently, calling Hardy back, he said to him in a low voice, +"Don't throw me overboard," and he desired that he might be buried by +his parents, unless it should please the king to order otherwise. "Kiss +me, Hardy," said he. Hardy knelt down and kissed his cheek, and Nelson +said, "Now, I am satisfied. Thank God, I have done my duty." Hardy stood +over him in silence for a moment or two, then knelt again and kissed his +forehead. "Who is that?" said Nelson; and being informed, he replied, +"God bless you, Hardy." And Hardy then left him for ever. + + SOUTHEY. + + + +[Note:_The death of Nelson_ took place at the Battle of Trafalgar, +1805.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + + BATTLE OF THE BALTIC. + + + I. + + Of Nelson and the North, + Sing the glorious day's renown, + When to battle fierce came forth + All the might of Denmark's crown, + And her arms along the deep proudly shone; + By each gun the lighted brand, + In a bold, determined hand, + And the Prince of all the land + Led them on. + + II. + + Like leviathans afloat, + Lay their bulwarks on the brine; + While the sign of battle flew + On the lofty British line: + It was ten of April morn by the chime: + As they drifted on their path, + There was silence deep as death; + And the boldest held his breath + For a time. + + + III. + + But the might of England flushed + To anticipate the scene; + And her van the fleeter rushed + O'er the deadly space between. + "Hearts of oak!" our captains cried; when each gun + From its adamantine lips + Spread a death-shade round the ships. + Like the hurricane eclipse + Of the sun. + + IV. + + Again! again! again! + And the havoc did not slack, + Till a feebler cheer the Dane + To our cheering sent us back;-- + Their shots along the deep slowly boom;-- + Then cease--and all is wail, + As they strike the shattered sail; + Or, in conflagration pale, + Light the gloom. + + V. + + Out spoke the victor then, + As he hailed them o'er the wave, + "Ye are brothers! ye are men! + And we conquer but to save:-- + So peace instead of death let us bring; + But yield, proud foe, thy fleet, + With the crews, at England's feet, + And make submission meet + To our king." + + VI. + + Then Denmark blest our chief + That he gave her wounds repose; + And the sounds of joy and grief + From her people wildly rose, + As Death withdrew his shades from the day + While the sun looked smiling bright + O'er a wide and woeful sight, + Where the fires of funeral light + Died away. + + VII. + + Now joy, Old England, raise! + For the tidings of thy might, + By the festal cities' blaze, + Whilst the wine-cup shines in light; + And yet amidst that joy and uproar, + Let us think of them that sleep, + Full many a fathom deep, + By thy wild and stormy steep, + Elsinore! + + VIII. + + Brave hearts! to Britain's pride + Once so faithful and so true, + On the deck of fame that died;-- + With the gallant good Riou;-- + Soft sigh the winds of heaven o'er their grave! + While the billow mournful rolls, + And the mermaid's song condoles; + Singing glory to the souls + Of the brave! + + CAMPBELL + + +[Notes: This is the first specimen of the "ode" in this book. Notice the +variety in length between the lines, and draw up a scheme of the rhymes +in each stanza. The battle was fought, and Copenhagen bombarded, in +April, 1801. + + +_It was ten of April morn by the chime_. It was ten o'clock on the +morning in April. + + +_Like the hurricane eclipse_. The eclipse of the sun in storm.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + + LOCHINVAR. + + + Oh, young Lochinvar is come out of the west, + Through all the wide border his steed is the best; + And, save his good broad-sword, he weapon had none; + He rode all unarmed, and he rode all alone! + So faithful in love, and so dauntless in war, + There never was knight like the young Lochinvar! + + He stay'd not for brake, and he stopped not for stone, + He swam the Eske river where ford there was none-- + But, ere he alighted at Netherby gate, + The bride had consented, the gallant came late; + For a laggard in love, and a dastard in war, + Was to wed the fair Ellen of brave Lochinvar! + + So boldly he entered the Netherby Hall, + Among bridesmen, and kinsmen, and brothers, and all!-- + Then spoke the bride's father, his hand on his sword-- + For the poor craven bridegroom said never a word-- + "Oh come ye in peace here, or come ye in war?-- + Or to dance at our bridal? young Lord Lochinvar!" + + "I long woo'd your daughter, my suit you denied: + Love swells like the Solway, but ebbs like its tide! + And now am I come, with this lost love of mine, + To lead but one measure, drink one cup of wine! + There be maidens in Scotland, more lovely by far, + That would gladly be bride to the young Lochinvar!" + + The bride kissed the goblet, the knight took it up, + He quaffed off the wine, and he threw down the cup! + She looked down to blush, and she looked up to sigh-- + With a smile on her lip, and a tear in her eye. + He took her soft hand, ere her mother could bar-- + "Now tread we a measure!" said young Lochinvar, + + So stately his form, and so lovely her face, + That never a hall such a galliard did grace! + While her mother did fret, and her father did fume, + And the bridegroom stood dangling his bonnet and plume, + And the bride-maidens whispered, "'Twere better by far + To have matched our fair cousin with young Lochinvar!" + + One touch to her hand, and one word in her ear, + When they reached the hall door, and the charger stood + near: + So light to the croup the fair lady he swung, + So light to the saddle before her he sprung! + "She is won! we are gone, over bank, bush, and scaur; + They'll have fleet steeds that follow!" cried young + Lochinvar. + + There was mounting 'mong Graemes of the Netherby clan; + Forsters, Fenwicks, and Musgraves, they rode and they ran; + There was racing and chasing on Cannobie Lea, + But the lost bride of Netherby ne'er did they see! + + So daring in love, and so dauntless in war, + Have ye e'er heard of gallant like young Lochinvar? + + SCOTT. + +[Notes: _Lochinvar_. The song sung by Dame Heron in 'Marmion,' one of +Scott's longest and most famous poems. The fame of Scott (1771-1832) +rests partly on these poems, but much more on the novels, in which he is +excelled by no one. + + +_He stay'd not for brake_. Brake, a word of Scandinavian origin, means a +place overgrown with brambles; from the crackling noise they make as one +passes over them. + + +_Love swells like the Solway_. For a scene in which the rapid advance +of the Solway tide is described, see the beginning of Scott's novel of +'Redgauntlet.' + + +_Galliard_. A gay rollicker. Used also in Chaucer. + + +_Scaur_. A rough, broken ground. The same word as scar.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +LEARNING TO RIDE. + + +Some time before my father had bought a small Shetland pony for us, +Moggy by name, upon which we were to complete our own education in +riding, we had already mastered the rudiments under the care of our +grandfather's coachman. He had been in our family thirty years, and we +were as fond of him as if he had been a relation. He had taught us to +sit up and hold the bridle, while he led a quiet old cob up and down +with a leading rein. But, now that Moggy was come, we were to make quite +a new step in horsemanship. Our parents had a theory that boys must +teach themselves, and that a saddle (except for propriety, when we rode +to a neighbour's house to carry a message, or had to appear otherwise +in public) was a hindrance rather than a help. So, after our morning's +lessons, the coachman used to take us to the paddock in which Moggy +lived, put her bridle on, and leave us to our own devices. I could see +that that moment was from the first one of keen enjoyment to my brother. +He would scramble up on her back, while she went on grazing--without +caring to bring her to the elm stool in the corner of the field, which +was our mounting place--pull her head up, kick his heels into her sides, +and go scampering away round the paddock with the keenest delight. He +was Moggy's master from the first day, though she not unfrequently +managed to get rid of him by sharp turns, or stopping dead short in her +gallop. She knew it quite well; and, just as well, that she was mistress +as soon as I was on her back. For weeks it never came to my turn, +without my wishing myself anywhere else. George would give me a lift +up, and start her. She would trot a few yards, and then begin grazing, +notwithstanding my timid expostulations and gentle pullings at her +bridle. Then he would run up, and pull up her head, and start her again, +and she would bolt off with a flirt of her head, and never be content +till I was safely on the grass. The moment that was effected she took to +grazing again, and I believe enjoyed the whole performance as much as +George, and certainly far more than I did. We always brought her a +carrot, or bit of sugar, in our pockets, and she was much more like a +great good-tempered dog with us than a pony. + + _Memoir of a Brother_. T. HUGHES. + + + + + * * * * * + + + + + THE CHAMELEON. + + + Oft has it been my lot to mark + A proud, conceited, talking spark, + With eyes that hardly served at most + To guard their master 'gainst a post: + Yet round the world the blade has been + To see whatever can be seen. + Returning from his finished tour, + Grown ten times perter than before. + Whatever word you chance to drop, + The travelled fool your mouth will stop: + "Sir, if my judgment you'll allow-- + I've seen--and sure I ought to know." + So begs you'd pay a due submission + And acquiesce in his decision. + Two travellers of such a cast, + As o'er Arabia's wilds they passed, + And on their way in friendly chat, + Now talked of this, and now of that: + Discoursed a while, 'mongst other matter, + Of the chameleon's form and nature. + "A stranger animal," cries one, + "Sure never lived beneath the sun; + A lizard's body, lean and long, + A fish's head, a serpent's tongue, + Its foot with triple claw disjoined; + And what a length of tail behind! + How slow its pace! And then its hue-- + Who ever saw so fine a blue?"-- + "Hold there," the other quick replies, + "'Tis green; I saw it with these eyes + As late with open mouth it lay, + And warmed it in the sunny ray; + Stretched at its ease the beast I viewed, + And saw it eat the air for food." + "I've seen it, sir, as well as you, + And must again affirm it blue: + At leisure I the beast surveyed + Extended in the cooling shade." + "'Tis green, 'tis green, sir, I assure you." + "Green!" cried the other in a fury: + "Why, do you think I've lost my eyes?" + "'Twere no great loss," the friend replies, + "For if they always serve you thus, + You'll find them of but little use." + So high at last the contest rose, + From words they almost came to blows, + When luckily came by a third: + To him the question they referred, + And begged he'd tell them if he knew, + Whether the thing was green or blue? + "Sirs," cries the umpire, "cease your pother, + The creature's neither one nor t'other. + I caught the animal last night, + And view'd it o'er by candle-light: + I marked it well--'twas black as jet. + You stare; but, sirs, I've got it yet: + And can produce it"--"Pray, sir, do: + I'll lay my life the thing is blue." + "And I'll be sworn, that when you've seen + The reptile you'll pronounce him green!" + "Well, then, at once to ease the doubt," + Replies the man, "I'll turn him out: + And when before your eyes I've set him, + If you don't find him black, I'll eat him," + He said, and full before their sight, + Produced the beast, and lo!--'twas white. + Both stared: the man looked wondrous wise: + "My children," the chameleon cries + (Then first the creature found a tongue), + "You all are right, and all are wrong; + When next you tell of what you view, + Think others see as well as you! + Nor wonder if you find that none + Prefers your eyesight to his own." + + MERRICK. + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +MOSES AT THE FAIR + + +All this conversation, however, was only preparatory to another scheme; +and indeed I dreaded as much. This was nothing less than that, as we +were now to hold up our heads a little higher in the world, it would be +proper to sell the colt, which was grown old, at a neighbouring fair, +and buy us a horse that would carry us single or double upon an +occasion, and make a pretty appearance at church, or upon a visit. This +at first I opposed stoutly; but it was stoutly defended. However, as I +weakened, my antagonist gained strength, till at last it was resolved +to part with him. As the fair happened on the following day, I had +intentions of going myself; but my wife persuaded me that I had got a +cold, and nothing could prevail upon her to permit me from home. "No, my +dear," said she, "our son Moses is a discreet boy, and can buy and sell +to a very good advantage: you know all our great bargains are of his +purchasing. He always stands out and higgles, and actually tires them +till he gets a bargain." + +As I had some opinion of my son's prudence, I was willing enough to +entrust him with this commission; and the next morning I perceived his +sisters mighty busy in fitting out Moses for the fair; trimming his +hair, brushing his buckles, and cocking his hat with pins. The business +of the toilet being over, we had at last the satisfaction of seeing +him mounted upon the colt, with a deal box before him to bring +home groceries in. He had on a coat made of that cloth they call +"thunder-and-lightning," which, though grown too short, was much too +good to be thrown away. His waistcoat was of gosling green, and his +sisters had tied his hair with a broad black riband. We all followed him +several paces from the door, bawling after him, "Good luck! good luck!" +till we could see him no longer. *** + +I changed the subject by seeming to wonder what could keep our son so +long at the fair, as it was now almost nightfall. "Never mind our son," +cried my wife; "depend upon it, he knows what he is about. I'll warrant +we'll never see him sell his hen of a rainy day. I have seen him bring +such bargains as would amaze one. I'll tell you a good story about that, +that will make you split your sides with laughing. But, as I live, +yonder comes Moses, without a horse, and the box on his back." + +As she spoke, Moses came slowly on foot, and sweating under the deal +box, which he had strapped round his shoulders like a pedlar. "Welcome, +welcome, Moses! Well, my boy, what have you brought us from the fair?" +"I have brought you myself," cried Moses, with a sly look, and resting +the box on the dresser. "Ay, Moses," cried my wife, "that we know; but +where is the horse?" "I have sold him," cried Moses, "for three pounds +five shillings and twopence." "Well done, my good boy," returned she; +"I knew you would touch them off. Between ourselves, three pounds five +shillings and twopence is no bad day's work. Come, let us have it then." +"I have brought back no money," cried Moses again. "I have laid it all +out in a bargain, and here it is," pulling out a bundle from his breast; +"here they are; a gross of green spectacles, with silver rims and +shagreen cases." "A gross of green spectacles!" repeated my wife, in a +faint voice. "And you have parted with the colt, and brought us back +nothing but a gross of green paltry spectacles!" "Dear mother," cried +the boy, "why won't you listen to reason? I had them a dead bargain, +or I should not have brought them. The silver rims alone will sell for +double the money." "A fig for the silver rims," cried my wife, in a +passion: "I dare swear they won't sell for above half the money at the +rate of broken silver, five shillings an ounce." "You need be under no +uneasiness," cried I, "about selling the rims, for they are not worth +sixpence; for I perceive they are only copper varnished over." "What!" +cried my wife, "not silver! the rims not silver?" "No," cried I, "no +more silver than your saucepan." "And so," returned she, "we have parted +with the colt, and have only got a gross of green spectacles, with +copper rims and shagreen cases? A murrain take such trumpery! The +blockhead has been imposed upon, and should have known his company +better." "There, my dear," cried I, "you are wrong; he should not have +known them at all." "Marry, hang the idiot!" returned she, "to bring me +such stuff: if I had them I would throw them in the fire." "There again +you are wrong, my dear," cried I, "for though they be copper, we will +keep them by us, as copper spectacles, you know, are better than +nothing." + +By this time the unfortunate Moses was undeceived. He now saw that he +had been imposed upon by a prowling sharper, who, observing his figure, +had marked him for an easy prey. I therefore asked the circumstances +of his deception. He sold the horse, it seems, and walked the fair in +search of another. A reverend-looking man brought him to a tent, under +pretence of having one to sell. "Here," continued Moses, "we met another +man, very well dressed, who desired to borrow twenty pounds upon these, +saying that he wanted money, and would dispose of them for a third of +the value. The first gentleman, who pretended to be my friend, whispered +me to buy them, and cautioned me not to let so good an offer pass. I +sent for Mr. Flamborough, and they talked him up as finely as they did +me; and so at last we were persuaded to buy the two gross between us." + + GOLDSMITH. + + +[Note: _Moses at the fair_. This is an incident taken from Goldsmith's +novel, 'The Vicar of Wakefield.' The narrator throughout is the Vicar +himself, who tells us the simple joys and sorrows of his family, and the +foibles of each member of it.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + + A WISH. + + + Happy the man whose wish and care + A few paternal acres bound, + Content to breathe his native air + In his own ground. + + Whose herds with milk, whose fields with bread, + Whose flocks supply him with attire; + Whose trees in summer yield him shade, + In winter, fire. + + Blest who can unconcernedly find + Hours, days, and years, glide soft away + In health of body, peace of mind, + Quiet by day, + + Sound sleep by night; study and ease + Together mixed; sweet recreation, + And innocence, which most does please, + With meditation. + + Thus let me live, unseen, unknown; + Thus unlamented let me die; + Steal from the world, and not a stone + Tell where I lie. + + POPE. + + +[Notes: _Alexander Pope_, born 1688, died 1744. The author of numerous +poems and translations, all of them marked by the same lucid thought and +polished versification. The Essay on Man, the Satires and Epistles, and +the translations of Homer's Iliad and Odyssey, are amongst the most +important. + + +Write a paraphrase of the first two stanzas.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +WHANG THE MILLER. + +Whang, the miller, was naturally avaricious; nobody loved money better +than he, or more respected those that had it. When people would talk of +a rich man in company, Whang would say, "I know him very well; he and I +are intimate; he stood for a child of mine." But if ever a poor man was +mentioned, he had not the least knowledge of the man; he might be very +well for aught he knew; but he was not fond of many acquaintances, and +loved to choose his company. + +Whang, however, with all his eagerness for riches, was in reality poor; +he had nothing but the profits of his mill to support him; but though +these were small, they were certain; while his mill stood and went, he +was sure of eating; and his frugality was such that he every day laid +some money by, which he would at intervals count and contemplate with +much satisfaction. Yet still his acquisitions were not equal to his +desires; he only found himself above want, whereas he desired to be +possessed of affluence. + +One day, as he was indulging these wishes, he was informed that a +neighbour of his had found a pan of money under ground, having dreamed +of it three nights running before. These tidings were daggers to the +heart of poor Whang. "Here am I," says he, "toiling and moiling from +morning till night for a few paltry farthings, while neighbour Hunks +only goes quietly to bed, and dreams himself into thousands before +morning. Oh that I could dream like him! with what pleasure would I dig +round the pan; how slily would I carry it home; not even nay wife should +see me; and then, oh, the pleasure of thrusting one's hand into a heap +of gold up to the elbow!" + +Such reflections only served to make the miller unhappy; he discontinued +his former assiduity; he was quite disgusted with small gains, and his +customers began to forsake him. Every day he repeated the wish, and +every night laid himself down in order to dream. Fortune, that was for a +long time unkind, at last, however, seemed to smile upon his distresses, +and indulged him with the wished-for vision. He dreamed that under +a certain part of the foundation of his mill there was concealed a +monstrous pan of gold and diamonds, buried deep in the ground, and +covered with a large flat stone. He rose up, thanked the stars that were +at last pleased to take pity on his sufferings, and concealed his good +luck from every person, as is usual in money dreams, in order to have +the vision repeated the two succeeding nights, by which he should be +certain of its veracity. His wishes in this also were answered; he still +dreamed of the same pan of money, in the very same place. + +Now, therefore, it was past a doubt; so, getting up early the third +morning, he repairs alone, with a mattock in his hand, to the mill, and +began to undermine that part of the wall which the vision directed. +The first omen of success that he met was a broken mug; digging still +deeper, he turns up a house tile, quite new and entire. At last, after +much digging, he came to the broad flat stone, but then so large, that +it was beyond one man's strength to remove it. "Here," cried he, in +raptures, to himself, "here it is! under this stone there is room for a +very large pan of diamonds indeed! I must e'en go home to my wife, and +tell her the whole affair, and get her to assist me in turning it up." +Away, therefore, he goes, and acquaints his wife with every circumstance +of their good fortune. Her raptures on this occasion may easily be +imagined; she flew round his neck, and embraced him in an agony of joy: +but those transports, however, did not delay their eagerness to know the +exact sum; returning, therefore, speedily together to the place where +Whang had been digging, there they found--not indeed the expected +treasure, but the mill, their only support, undermined and fallen. + + GOLDSMITH. + + +[Note: _He stood for a child of mine_, i.e., stood as godfather for a +child of mine.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + + A SEA SONG. + + + A wet sheet and a flowing sea, + A wind that follows fast, + And fills the white and rustling sail + And bends the gallant mast. + And bends the gallant mast, my boys, + While, like the eagle free, + Away the good ship flies, and leaves + Old England on the lee. + + Oh, for a soft and gentle wind, + I heard a fair one cry: + But give to me the snoring breeze + And white waves heaving high. + And white waves heaving high, my lads, + A good ship, tight and free, + The world of waters is our home, + And merry men are we. + + There's tempest in yon horned moon, + And lightning in yon cloud; + And hark the music, mariners! + The wind is piping loud. + The wind is piping loud, my boys, + The lightning flashes free; + While the hollow oak our palace is, + Our heritage the sea. + + CUNNINGHAM. + + +[Note: _A wet sheet_. The _sheet_ is the rope fastened to the lower +corner of a sail to retain it in position.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + + ON THE LOSS OF THE 'ROYAL GEORGE.' + + + Toll for the brave! + The brave that are no more; + All sunk beneath the wave, + Fast by their native shore! + + Eight hundred of the brave, + Whose courage well was tried, + Had made the vessel heel, + And laid her on her side. + + A land breeze shook the shrouds, + And she was overset; + Down went the 'Royal George,' + With all her crew complete. + + Toll for the brave! + Brave Kempenfeldt is gone; + His last sea-fight is fought; + His work of glory done. + + It was not in the battle; + No tempest gave the shock; + She sprang no fatal leak; + She ran upon no rock. + + His sword was in its sheath; + His fingers held the pen, + When Kempenfeldt went down, + With twice four hundred men. + + Weigh the vessel up, + Once dreaded by our foes! + And mingle with our cup, + The tear that England owes. + + Her timbers yet are sound, + And she may float again, + Full-charged with England's thunder, + And plough the distant main. + + But Kempenfeldt is gone, + His victories are o'er; + And he and his eight hundred + Shall plough the wave no more. + + COWPER. + + +[Note: _The Royal George_. A ship of war, which went down with Admiral +Kempenfeldt and her crew off Spithead in 1782, while undergoing a +partial careening.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +AN ESCAPE. + + +After we had rowed, or rather driven, about a league and a half, as we +reckoned it, a raging wave, mountain-like, came rolling astern of us, +and plainly bade us expect our end. In a word, it took us with such a +fury that it overset the boat at once; and, separating us as well from +the boat as from one another, gave us not time hardly to say, "O God!" +for we were all swallowed up in a moment. + +Nothing can describe the confusion of thought which I felt when I sunk +into the water; for though I swam very well, yet I could not deliver +myself from the waves, so as to draw breath, till that wave having +driven me, or rather carried me a vast way on towards the shore, and +having spent itself, went back, and left me upon the land almost dry, +but half dead from the water I took in. I had so much presence of mind +as well as breath left, that, seeing myself nearer the mainland than I +expected, I got upon my feet, and endeavoured to make on towards the +land as fast as I could, before another wave should return, and take me +up again. But I soon found it was impossible to avoid it; for I saw the +sea come after me as high as a great hill, and as furious as an enemy, +which I had no means or strength to contend with; my business was to +hold my breath, and raise myself upon the water, if I could: and so by +swimming to preserve my breathing, and pilot myself towards the shore, +if possible; my greatest concern now being, that the sea, as it would +carry me a great way towards the shore when it came on, might not carry +me back again with it when it gave back towards the sea. + +The wave that came upon me again, buried me at once twenty or thirty +feet deep in its own body; and I could feel myself carried with a mighty +force and swiftness towards the shore a very great way; but I held my +breath, and assisted myself to swim still forward with all my might. I +was ready to burst with holding my breath, when, as I felt myself rising +up, so, to my immediate relief, I found my head and hands shoot out +above the surface of the water; and though it was not two seconds of +time that I could keep myself so, yet it relieved me greatly, gave me +breath and new courage. I was covered again with water a good while, but +not so long but I held it out; and finding the water had spent itself, +and began to return, I struck forward against the return of the waves, +and felt ground again with my feet. I stood still a few moments to +recover breath, and till the water went from me, and then took to my +heels, and run with what strength I had farther towards the shore. But +neither would this deliver me from the fury of the sea, which came +pouring in after me again, and twice more I was lifted up by the waves, +and carried forwards as before, the shore being very flat. + +The last time of these two had well near been fatal to me; for the +sea having hurried me along as before, landed me, or rather dashed +me against a piece of a rock, and that with such force as it left me +senseless, and indeed helpless, as to my own deliverance; for the blow +taking my side and breast, beat the breath, as it were, quite out of my +body; and had it returned again immediately, I must have been strangled +in the water; but I recovered a little before the return of the waves, +and seeing I should be covered again with the water, I resolved to hold +fast by a piece of the rock, and so to hold my breath, if possible, till +the wave went back; now as the waves were not so high as at first, being +near land, I held my hold till the wave abated, and then fetched another +run, which brought me so near the shore that the next wave, though it +went over me, yet did not so swallow me up as to carry me away, and the +next run I took, I got to the main land, where, to my great comfort, I +clambered up the clifts of the shore, and sat me down upon the grass, +free from danger, and quite out of the reach of the water. + +DEFOE'S _Robinson Crusoe_. + + + +[Notes: _Daniel Defoe_, born 1663, died 1731. He was prominent as a +political writer, but his later fame has rested chiefly on his works of +fiction, of which 'Robinson Crusoe' (from which this extract is taken) +is the most important. + + +"_Gave us not time hardly to say_." This to us has the effect of a +double negative. But if we take "hardly" in its strict sense, the +sentence is clear: "did not give us time, even with difficulty, to say." + + + (_at foot_)."_As_ I felt myself rising up, _so_ to my +immediate relief." Note this use of _as_ and _so_, in a way which now +sounds archaic. + + + _Run_. The older form, for which we would use _ran_. + + +"That with such force, _as_ it left me," &c. For _as_, we would now use +_that_. + + +_Clifts of the shore_. Like clefts, broken openings in the shore.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + + RULE BRITANNIA. + + + When Britain first, at Heaven's command, + Arose from out the azure main, + This was the charter of the land, + And guardian angels sung this strain: + Rule, Britannia, rule the waves, + Britons never will be slaves! + + The nations, not so blessed as thee, + Must in their turn to tyrants fall; + While thou shalt flourish great and free, + The dread and envy of them all. + + Still more majestic shalt thou rise, + More dreadful from each foreign stroke; + As the loud blast that tears the skies, + Serves but to root thy native oak. + + Thee haughty tyrants ne'er shall tame: + All their attempts to bend thee down + Will but arouse thy generous flame; + But work their woe and thy renown. + + To thee belongs the rural reign; + Thy cities shall with commerce shine; + All thine shall be the subject main: + And every shore it circles thine. + + The Muses, still with freedom found, + Shall to thy happy coast repair: + Blessed isle! with matchless beauty crowned, + And manly hearts to guard the fair: + Rule, Britannia, rule the waves, + Britons never will be slaves! + + THOMSON. + + +[Notes: _James Thomson_, born 1700, died 1748. He was educated for the +Scotch ministry, but came to London, and commenced his career as a poet +by the series of poems called the 'Seasons,' descriptive of scenes in +nature. + + + _The Muses, i.e._, the Sciences and Arts, which flourish best +where there are free institutions.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + + WATERLOO. + + + There was a sound of revelry by night, + And Belgium's capital had gathered then + Her Beauty and her Chivalry; and bright + The lamps shone o'er fair women and brave men; + A thousand hearts beat happily; and when + Music arose with its voluptuous swell, + Soft eyes look'd love to eyes which spake again, + And all went merry as a marriage-bell;-- + But hush! hark! a deep sound strikes like a rising + knell! + + Did ye not hear it?--No; 'twas but the wind, + Or the car rattling o'er the stony street: + On with the dance! let joy be unconfined; + No sleep till morn, when Youth and Pleasure meet + To chase the glowing Hours with flying feet-- + But hark!--That heavy sound breaks in once more, + As if the clouds its echo would repeat; + And nearer, clearer, deadlier than before! + Arm! arm! it is--it is--the cannon's opening roar! + + Ah! then and there was hurrying to and fro, + And gathering tears, and tremblings of distress, + And cheeks all pale, which but an hour ago + Blush'd at the praise of their own loveliness: + And there were sudden partings, such as press + The life from out young hearts, and choking sighs + Which ne'er might be repeated; who could guess + If ever more should meet those mutual eyes, + Since upon night so sweet such awful morn could rise? + + And there was mounting in hot haste: the steed, + The mustering squadron, and the clattering car, + Went pouring forward with impetuous speed, + And swiftly forming in the ranks of war; + And the deep thunder peal on peal afar; + And near, the beat of the alarming drum + Roused up the soldier ere the morning-star; + While throng'd the citizens, with terror dumb, + Or whispering, with white lips,--"The foe! they come! + they come!" + + And Ardennes waves above them her green leaves, + Dewy with nature's tear-drops, as they pass, + Grieving, if aught inanimate e'er grieves, + Over the unreturning brave,--alas! + Ere evening to be trodden like the grass, + Which now beneath them, but above shall grow + In its next verdure; when this fiery mass + Of living valour, rolling on the foe + And burning with high hope, shall moulder cold and low! + + Last noon beheld them full of lusty life, + Last eve in Beauty's circle proudly gay, + The midnight brought the signal-sound of strife, + The morn the marshalling in arms,--the day + Battle's magnificently stern array! + The thunder-clouds close o'er it, which when rent + The earth is cover'd thick with other clay, + Which her own clay shall cover--heap'd and pent, + Rider and horse,--friend, foe,--in one red burial blent! + + BYRON. + + + +[Notes:_Waterloo_. Fought, 1815, between Napoleon on one side, and +Wellington and Blucher (the Prussian General) on the other. Its result +was the defeat of Napoleon, and his imprisonment by the Allies in St. +Helena. The festivities held at Brussels, the headquarters of the +British Army, on the eve of the battle, were rudely disturbed by the +news that the action had already begun. + + +_Ardennes_. A district on the frontier of France, bordering on Belgium. + + +_Ivry_. The battle in which Henry IV., in the struggle for the crown of +France, completely routed the forces of the Catholic League (1590). + + +_My white plume shine_. The white plume was the distinctive mark of the +House of Bourbon. + + +_Oriflamme_, or Auriflamme (lit. Flame of Gold), originally the banner +of the Abbey of St. Denis, afterwards appropriated by the crown of +France. "Let the helmet of Navarre (Henry's own country) be to-day the +Royal Standard of France." + + + _Culverin_. A piece of artillery of long range. + + + _The fiery Duke_ (of Mayenne). + + +_Pricking fast_. Cf. "a gentle knight was pricking o'er the plain" +(Spencer). + + _With all the hireling chivalry of Guelders and Almayne_. The +allies of the League. Almayne or Almen, a district in the Netherlands. + + + + + * * * * * + + + + + IVRY. + + + The King is come to marshal us, in all his armour drest, + And he has bound a snow-white plume upon his gallant crest. + He look'd upon his people, and a tear was in his eye: + He look'd upon the traitors, and his glance was stern and + high, + Right graciously he smiled on us, as roll'd from wing to + wing, + Down all our line a deafening shout, "God save our Lord the + King!" + "And if my standard-bearer fall, as fall full well he may, + For never saw I promise yet of such a bloody fray, + Press where ye see my white plume shine, amidst the ranks + of war, + And be your Oriflamme to-day the helmet of Navarre." + + Hurrah! the foes are moving. Hark to the mingled din + Of fife, and steed, and trump, and drum, and roaring + culverin! + The fiery Duke is pricking fast across St. André's plain, + With all the hireling chivalry of Guelders and Almayne. + Now by the lips of those we love, fair gentlemen of France, + Charge for the Golden Lilies,--upon them with the lance! + A thousand spurs are striking deep, a thousand spears in + rest, + A thousand knights are pressing close behind the snow-white + crest; + And in they burst, and on they rush'd, while, like a + guiding star, + Amidst the thickest carnage blazed the helmet of Navarre. + + Now, God be praised, the day is ours! Mayenne hath turned + his rein. + D'Aumale hath cried for quarter. The Flemish Count is + slain. + Their ranks are breaking like thin clouds before a Biscay + gale. + The field is heap'd with bleeding steeds, and flags, and + cloven mail. + And then we thought on vengeance, and, all along our van, + "Remember St. Bartholomew!" was pass'd from man to man: + But out spake gentle Henry, "No Frenchman is my foe; + Down, down, with every foreigner! but let your brethren + go." + Oh! was there ever such a knight, in friendship or in war, + As our Sovereign Lord, King Henry, the soldier of Navarre! + + Ho! maidens of Vienna; ho! matrons of Lucerne; + Weep, weep, and rend your hair for those who never shall + return. + Ho! Philip, send, for charity, thy Mexican pistoles, + That Antwerp monks may sing a mass for thy poor spearmen's + souls. + Ho! gallant nobles of the League, look that your arms be + bright: + Ho! burghers of St. Genevieve, keep watch and ward to- + night, + For our God hath crush'd the tyrant, our God hath raised + the slave, + And mock'd the counsel of the wise, and the valour of the + brave. + Then glory to His holy name, from whom all glories are; + And glory to our Sovereign Lord, King Henry of Navarre! + + MACAULAY. + + + +[Notes: _D'Aumale_, The Duke of; another leader of the League. + + +_The Flemish Court_. Count Egmont, the son of the Count Egmont, whose +death on the scaffold in 1568, in consequence of the resistance he +offered to the tyranny of Philip II. of Spain, has made the name famous. +The son, on the other hand, was the attached servant of Philip II.; and +was unnatural enough to say, when reminded of his father, "Talk not of +him, he deserved his death." + + +_Remember St. Bartholomew_, i.e., the massacre of the Protestants on St. +Bartholomew's day, 1572. + + +_Maidens of Vienna: matrons of Lucerne_. In reference to the Austrian +and Swiss Allies of the League. + + +_Thy Mexican pistoles_. Alluding to the riches gained by the Spanish +monarchy from her American colonies. + + +_Ho! burghers of St. Genevieve_ = citizens of Paris, of which St. +Genevieve was held to be the patron saint.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +NECESSITY THE MOTHER OF INVENTION. + +And now I began to apply myself to make such necessary things as I found +I most wanted, as particularly a chair or a table; for without these I +was not able to enjoy the few comforts I had in the world; I could not +write or eat, or do several things with so much pleasure without a +table. + +So I went to work; and here I must needs observe that, as reason is the +substance and original of the mathematics, so by stating and squaring +everything by reason, and by making the most rational judgment of +things, every man may be in time master of every mechanic art. I +had never handled a tool in my life, and yet in time, by labour, +application, and contrivance, I found at last that I wanted nothing but +I could have made it, especially if I had had tools; however, I made +abundance of things, even without tools, and some with no more tools +than an adze and a hatchet, which perhaps were never made that way +before, and that with infinite labour; for example, if I wanted a board, +I had no other way but to cut down a tree, set it on an edge before me, +and hew it flat on either side with my axe, till I had brought it to be +as thin as a plank, and then dubb it smooth with my adze. It is true, by +this method, I could make but one board out of a whole tree, but this I +had no remedy for but patience, any more than I had for the prodigious +deal of time and labour which it took me up to make a plank or board; +but my time or labour was little worth, and so it was as well employed +one way as another. + +However, I made me a table and a chair, as I observed above, in the +first place, and this I did out of the short pieces of boards that +I brought on my raft from the ship: but when I had wrought out some +boards, as above, I made large shelves of the breadth of a foot and a +half one over another, all along one side of my cave, to lay all my +tools, nails, and iron-work, and in a word, to separate everything at +large in their places, that I might come easily at them; I knocked +pieces into the wall of the rock to hang my guns and all things that +would hang up. So that had my cave been to be seen, it looked like a +general magazine of all necessary things, and I had everything so ready +at my hand, that it was a great pleasure to me to see all my goods in +such order, and especially to find my stock of all necessaries so great. + + +DEFOE'S _Robinson Crusoe._ + + + +[Notes: _Reason is the substance and original of the mathematics_. +Original here = origin or foundation.] + + +_The most rational judgment_ = the judgment most in accordance with +reason.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + + ANCIENT GREECE. + + + Clime of the unforgotten brave! + Whose land from plain to mountain-cave + Was Freedom's home or Glory's grave! + Shrine of the mighty! can it be + That this is all remains of thee? + Approach, thou craven crouching slave: + Say, is not this Thermopylae? + These waters blue that round you lave,-- + Oh servile offspring of the free!-- + Pronounce what sea, what shore is this? + The gulf, the rock of Salamis! + These scenes, their story not unknown, + Arise, and make again your own; + Snatch from the ashes of your sires + The embers of their former fires; + And he who in the strife expires + Will add to theirs a name of fear + That Tyranny shall quake to hear, + And leave his sons a hope, a fame, + They too will rather die than shame: + For Freedom's battle once begun, + Bequeathed by bleeding Sire to Son, + Though baffled oft is ever won. + Bear witness, Greece, thy living page! + Attest it many a deathless age! + While kings, in dusty darkness hid, + Have left a nameless pyramid, + Thy heroes, though the general doom + Hath swept the column from their tomb, + A mightier monument command, + The mountains of their native land! + There points thy Muse to stranger's eye + The graves of those that cannot die! + 'Twere long to tell, and sad to trace, + Each step from splendour to disgrace, + Enough--no foreign foe could quell + Thy soul, till from itself it fell; + Yes! Self-abasement paved the way + To villain-bonds and despot sway. + + + +BYRON. + + + +[Notes: _Lord Byron_, born 1788, died 1824. The most powerful English +poet of the early part of this century. + + +_Thermapylae._ The pass at which Leonidas and his Spartans resisted the +approach of the Persians (B.C. 480). + +_Salamis_. Where the Athenians fought the great naval battle which +destroyed the Persian fleet, and secured the liberties of Greece.] + + + + * * * * * + + + + + THE TEMPLE OF FAME. + + + The Temple shakes, the sounding gates unfold, + Wide vaults appear, and roofs of fretted gold, + Raised on a thousand pillars wreathed around + With laurel-foliage and with eagles crowned; + Of bright transparent beryl were the walls, + The friezes gold, and gold the capitals: + As heaven with stars, the roof with jewels glows, + And ever-living lamps depend in rows. + Full in the passage of each spacious gate + The sage historians in white garments wait: + Graved o'er their seats, the form of Time was found, + His scythe reversed, and both his pinions bound. + Within stood heroes, who through loud alarms + In bloody fields pursued renown in arms. + High on a throne, with trophies charged, I viewed + The youth that all things but himself subdued; + His feet on sceptres and tiaras trode, + And his horned head belied the Libyan god. + There Caesar, graced with both Minervas, shone; + Caesar, the world's great master, and his own; + Unmoved, superior still in every state, + And scarce detested in his country's fate. + But chief were those, who not for empire fought, + But with their toils their people's safety bought: + High o'er the rest Epaminondas stood: + Timoleon, glorious in his brother's blood: + Bold Scipio, saviour of the Roman state, + Great in his triumphs, in retirement great; + And wise Aurelius, in whose well-taught mind + With boundless power unbounded virtue joined, + His own strict judge, and patron of mankind. + Much-suffering heroes next their honours claim, + Those of less noisy and less guilty fame, + Fair Virtue's silent train: supreme of these + Here ever shines the godlike Socrates; + He whom ungrateful Athens could expel, + At all times just but when he signed the shell: + Here his abode the martyred Phocion claims, + With Agis, not the last of Spartan names: + Unconquered Cato shows the wound he tore, + And Brutus his ill Genius meets no more. + But in the centre of the hallowed choir, + Six pompous columns o'er the rest aspire; + Around the shrine itself of Fame they stand, + Hold the chief honours, and the Fane command. + High on the first the mighty Homer shone; + Eternal adamant composed his throne; + Father of verse! in holy fillets drest, + His silver beard waved gently o'er his breast: + Though blind, a boldness in his looks appears; + In years he seemed, but not impaired by years. + The wars of Troy were round the pillar seen: + Here fierce Tydides wounds the Cyprian Queen; + Here Hector glorious from Patroclus' fall, + Here dragged in triumph round the Trojan wall. + Motion and life did every part inspire, + Bold was the work, and proved the master's fire. + A strong expression most he seemed t' affect, + And here and there disclosed a brave neglect. + A golden column next in rank appeared, + On which a shrine of purest gold was reared; + Finished the whole, and laboured every part, + With patient touches of unwearied art; + The Mantuan there in sober triumph sate, + Composed his posture, and his look sedate: + On Homer still he fixed a reverent eye, + Great without pride, in modest majesty, + In living sculpture on the sides were spread + The Latian wars, and haughty Turnus dead: + Eliza stretched upon the funeral pyre, + Aeneas bending with his aged sire: + Troy flamed in burning gold, and o'er the throne + _Arms and the Man_ in golden ciphers shone. + Four swans sustain a car of silver bright, + With heads advanced, and pinions stretched for flight, + Here, like some furious prophet, Pindar rode, + And seemed to labour with the inspiring God. + Across the harp a careless hand he flings, + And boldly sinks into the sounding strings. + The figured games of Greece the column grace, + Neptune and Jove survey the rapid race. + The youths hang o'er their chariots as they run; + The fiery steeds seem starting from the stone: + The champions in distorted postures threat; + And all appeared irregularly great. + Here happy Horace tuned th' Ausonian lyre + To sweeter sounds, and tempered Pindar's fire; + Pleased with Alcaeus' manly rage t' infuse + The softer spirit of the Sapphic Muse. + The polished pillar different sculptures grace; + A work outlasting monumental brass. + Here smiling Loves and Bacchanals appear, + The Julian star, and great Augustus here: + The Doves, that round the infant Poet spread + Myrtles and bays, hang hov'ring o'er his head. + Here, in a shrine that cast a dazzling light, + Sate, fixed in thought, the mighty Stagyrite: + His sacred head a radiant zodiac crowned, + And various animals his sides surround: + His piercing eyes, erect, appear to view + Superior worlds, and look all Nature through. + With equal rays immortal Tully shone; + The Roman rostra decked the Consul's throne: + Gathering his flowing robe, he seemed to stand + In act to speak, and graceful stretched his hand. + Behind, Rome's Genius waits with civic crowns, + And the great Father of his country owns. + These massy columns in a circle rise, + O'er which a pompous dome invades the skies: + Scarce to the top I stretched my aching sight, + So large it spread, and swelled to such a height. + Full in the midst proud Fame's imperial seat + With jewels blazed magnificently great: + The vivid emeralds there revive the eye, + The flaming rubies show their sanguine dye, + Bright azure rays from lively sapphires stream, + And lucid amber casts a golden gleam, + With various coloured light the pavement shone, + And all on fire appeared the glowing throne; + The dome's high arch reflects the mingled blaze, + And forms a rainbow of alternate rays. + When on the Goddess first I cast my sight, + Scarce seemed her stature of a cubit's height; + But swelled to larger size the more I gazed, + Till to the roof her towering front she raised; + With her the Temple every moment grew, + And ampler vistas opened to my view: + Upward the columns shoot, the roofs ascend, + And arches widen, and long aisles extend, + Such was her form, as ancient Bards have told, + Wings raise her arms, and wings her feet infold; + A thousand busy tongues the Goddess bears, + A thousand open eyes, a thousand listening ears. + Beneath, in order ranged, the tuneful Nine + (Her virgin handmaids) still attend the shrine: + With eyes on Fame for ever fixed, they sing; + For Fame they raise the voice, and tune the string: + With Time's first birth began the heavenly lays, + And last eternal through the length of days. + Around these wonders, as I cast a look, + The trumpet sounded, and the temple shook, + And all the nations, summoned at the call, + From diff'rent quarters, fill the crowded hall: + Of various tongues the mingled sounds were heard; + In various garbs promiscuous throngs appeared; + Thick as the bees that with the spring renew + Their flow'ry toils, and sip the fragrant dew, + When the winged colonies first tempt the sky, + O'er dusky fields and shaded waters fly; + Or, settling, seize the sweets the blossoms yield, + And a low murmur runs along the field. + Millions of suppliant crowds the shrine attend, + And all degrees before the Goddess bend; + The poor, the rich, the valiant, and the sage, + And boasting youth, and narrative old age. + Their pleas were diff'rent, their request the same: + For good and bad alike are fond of Fame. + Some she disgraced, and some with honours crowned; + Unlike successes equal merits found. + Thus her blind sister, fickle Fortune, reigns, + And, undiscerning, scatters crowns and chains. + First at the shrine the Learned world appear, + And to the Goddess thus prefer their pray'r: + "Long have we sought t' instruct and please mankind, + With studies pale, with midnight vigils blind; + But thanked by few, rewarded yet by none. + We here appeal to thy superior throne: + On wit and learning the just prize bestow, + For fame is all we must expect below." + The Goddess heard, and bade the Muses raise + The golden Trumpet of eternal Praise: + From pole to pole the winds diffuse the sound + That fills the circuit of the world around. + Not all at once, as thunder breaks the cloud: + The notes, at first, were rather sweet than loud. + By just degrees they ev'ry moment rise, + Fill the wide earth, and gain upon the skies. + At ev'ry breath were balmy odours shed, + Which still grew sweeter as they wider spread; + Less fragrant scents th' unfolding rose exhales, + Or spices breathing in Arabian gales. + Next these, the good and just, an awful train, + Thus, on their knees, address the sacred fane: + "Since living virtue is with envy cursed, + And the best men are treated like the worst, + Do thou, just Goddess, call our merits forth, + And give each deed th' exact intrinsic worth." + "Not with bare justice shall your act be crowned," + (Said Fame,) "but high above desert renowned: + Let fuller notes th' applauding world amaze, + And the loud clarion labour in your praise." + This band dismissed, behold another crowd + Preferred the same request, and lowly bowed; + The constant tenour of whose well-spent days + No less deserved a just return of praise. + But straight the direful Trump of Slander sounds; + Through the big dome the doubling thunder bounds; + Loud as the burst of cannon rends the skies, + The dire report through ev'ry region flies; + In ev'ry ear incessant rumours rung, + And gath'ring scandals grew on ev'ry tongue. + From the black trumpet's rusty concave broke + Sulphureous flames, and clouds of rolling smoke; + The pois'nous vapour blots the purple skies, + And withers all before it as it flies. + A troop came next, who crowns and armour wore, + And proud defiance in their looks they bore: + "For thee" (they cried), "amidst alarms and strife, + We sailed in tempests down the stream of life; + For thee whole nations filled with flames and blood, + And swam to empire through the purple flood. + Those ills we dared, thy inspiration own; + What virtue seemed was done for thee alone." + "Ambitious fools!" (the Queen replied, and frowned): + "Be all your acts in dark oblivion drowned; + There sleep forgot, with mighty tyrants gone, + Your statues mouldered, and your names unknown!" + A sudden cloud straight snatched them from my sight, + And each majestic phantom sunk in night. + Then came the smallest tribe I yet had seen; + Plain was their dress, and modest was their mien. + "Great idol of mankind! we neither claim + The praise of merit, nor aspire to fame! + But safe, in deserts, from the applause of men, + Would die unheard-of, as we lived unseen. + 'Tis all we beg thee, to conceal from sight + Those acts of goodness, which themselves requite. + O let us still the secret joy partake, + To follow virtue ev'n for virtue's sake." + "And live there men who slight immortal fame? + Who, then, with incense shall adore our name? + But, mortals! know, 'tis still our greatest pride + To blaze those virtues which the good would hide. + Rise! Muses, rise! add all your tuneful breath; + These must not sleep in darkness and in death," + She said: in air the trembling music floats, + And on the winds triumphant swell the notes: + So soft, though high; so loud, and yet so clear; + Ev'n list'ning angels leaned from heaven to hear: + To farthest shores th' ambrosial spirit flies, + Sweet to the world, and grateful to the skies. + + + +Pope. + + + +[Notes: _Alexander Pope_. (See previous note on Pope.) The hint of this +poem is taken from one by Chaucer, called 'The House of Fame.' + + +_Depend in rows. Depend_ in its proper and literal meaning, "hang down." + + +_The youth that all things but himself subdued_ = Alexander the Great +(356-323 B.C.). + + +_His feet on sceptres and tiaras trod. Tiaras_, in reference to his +conquests over the Asiatic monarchies. + + +_His horned head belied the Libyan god_. "The desire to be thought the +son of Jupiter Ammon caused him to wear the horns of that god, and to +represent the same upon his coins." _(Pope's note_.) Libyan = African. + + +_Caesar graced with both Minervas, i.e.,_ by warlike and literary +genius; as the conqueror of Gaul and the writer of the 'Commentaries.' + + +_Scarce detested in his country's fate_. Whom even the enslaving of his +country scarce makes us detest. + +_Epaminondas_ (died 362 B.C.), the maintainer of Theban independence. + + +_Timoleon_, of Corinth, who slew his brother when he found him aspiring +to be tyrant in the state (died 337 B.C.). + + +_Scipio_. The conqueror of Carthage, which was long the rival of Rome. + + +_Aurelius, i.e.,_ Marcus Aurelius Antoninus (121-180 A.D.), Emperor of +Rome; one of the brightest characters in Roman history. + + +_Socrates_. The great Greek philosopher, who, in maintaining truth, +incurred the charge of infecting the young men of Athens with impiety, +and was put to death by being made to drink hemlock. His life and +teaching are known to us through the writings of his disciple, Plato. + + +_He whom ungrateful Athens_, &c., i.e., Aristides (see page 171), +distinguished by the surname of _The Just_. He was unjust, Pope means, +only when he signed the shell for his own condemnation. + + +_Phocion_. An Athenian general and statesman (402-318 B.C.), put to +death by Polysperchon. He injured rather than helped the liberties of +Athens. + + +_Agis_, "King of Sparta, who endeavoured to restore his state to +greatness by a radical agrarian reform, was after a mock trial murdered +in prison, B.C. 241." _Ward_. + + +_Cato_, who, to escape disgrace amid the evils which befell his country, +stabbed himself in 46 B.C. + + +_Brutus his ill Genius meets no more_. See the account of the Eve of +Philippi in Book IV. + + +_The wars of Troy_. Described by Homer in his Iliad. + + +_Tydides (Diomede) wounds the Cyprian Queen (Venus)_. A scene described +in the Iliad. + + +_Hector_. Slew Patroclus, the friend of Achilles, and in revenge was +dragged by him round the walls of Troy. + + +_The Mantuan_, i.e., the Roman poet Virgil, author of the Aeneid, born +at Mantua (70-19 B.C.) + + +_Eliza_ = Elissa, or Dido, whose misfortunes are described in the +Aeneid. + + +_Aeneas bending with his aged sire_. Aeneas carried his father, +Anchises, from the flames of Troy on his shoulders. + + +_Arms and the Man_. The opening words of the Aeneid. + + +_Pindar_. Of Thebes, who holds the first place among the lyric poets of +Greece. The character and subjects of his poetry, of which the portions +remaining to us are the Triumphal Odes, celebrating victories gained in +the great games of Greece, are indicated by the lines that follow. + + +_Happy Horace_ (65-8 B.C.). The epithet is used to describe the +lightsome and genial tone of Horace's poetry. _Ausonian lyre_ = Italian +song. Ausonia is a poetical name for Italy. + + +_Alcoeus and Sappho_. Two of the early lyric poets of Greece. + + +_A work outlasting monumental brass_. This line is suggested by one of +Horace, when he describes his work as "a monument more lasting than +brass." + + +_The Julian star, and great Augustus here_. Referring to the Imperial +house and its representative, Augustus, Horace's chief patron. + + +_Stagyrite_. Aristotle, the great philosopher of Greece (384-322 B.C.), +born at Stagira. Pope here shortens the second syllable by a poetical +licence. + + +_Tully_. Marcus Tullius Cicero, the great orator, statesman, and writer +of Rome. For saving the city from the conspiracy of Catiline, he was +honoured with the title of "Father of his country." + + +_Narrative old age_. Talkative old age. + + +_Unlike successes equal merits found_ = The same desert found now +success, now failure.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +LABRADOR. + + +The following narrative is from the periodical account of the Moravian +Missions. It contains some of the most impressive descriptions I ever +remember to have read. + +Brother Samuel Liebiseh was at the time of this occurrence entrusted +with the general care of the brethren's missions on the coast of +Labrador. The duties of his office required a visit to Okkak, the most +northern of our settlements, and about one hundred and fifty English +miles distant from Nain, the place where he resided. Brother William +Turner being appointed to accompany him, they left Nain together on +March the 11th, 1782, early in the morning, with very clear weather, +the stars shining with uncommon lustre. The sledge was driven by the +baptised Esquimaux Mark, and another sledge with Esquimaux joined +company. + +An Esquimaux sledge is drawn by a species of dogs, not unlike a wolf in +shape. Like them, they never bark, but howl disagreeably. They are kept +by the Esquimaux in greater or larger packs or teams, in proportion to +the affluence of the master. They quietly submit to be harnessed for +their work, and are treated with little mercy by the heathen Esquimaux, +who make them do hard duty for the small quantity of food they allow +them. This consists chiefly in offal, old skins, entrails, such parts of +whale-flesh as are unfit for other use, rotten whale-fins, &c.; and if +they are not provided with this kind of dog's meat, they leave them to +go and seek dead fish or muscles upon the beach. + +When pinched with hunger they will swallow almost anything, and on a +journey it is necessary to secure the harness within the snow-house +over night, lest, by devouring it, they should render it impossible +to proceed in the morning. When the travellers arrive at their night +quarters, and the dogs are unharnessed, they are left to burrow on the +snow, where they please, and in the morning are sure to come at their +driver's call, when they receive some food. Their strength and speed; +even with a hungry stomach, is astonishing. In fastening them to the +sledge, care is taken not to let them go abreast. They are tied by +separate thongs, of unequal lengths, to a horizontal bar in the fore +part of the sledge; an old knowing one leads the way, running ten or +twenty paces ahead, directed by the driver's whip, which is of great +length, and can be well managed only by an Esquimaux. The other dogs +follow like a flock of sheep. If one of them receives a lash, he +generally bites his neighbour, and the bite goes round. + +To return to our travellers. The sledge contained five men, one woman, +and a child. All were in good spirits, and appearances being much in +their favour, they hoped to reach Okkak in safety in two or three days. +The track over the frozen sea was in the best possible order, and they +went with ease at the rate of six or seven miles an hour. After they +had passed the islands in the bay of Nain, they kept at a considerable +distance from the coast, both to gain the smoothest part of the ice, and +to weather the high rocky promontory of Kiglapeit. About eight o'clock +they met a sledge with Esquimaux turning in from the sea. After the +usual salutation, the Esquimaux, alighting, held some conversation, as +is their general practice, the result of which was, that some hints were +thrown out by the strange Esquimaux that it might be better to return. +However, as the missionaries saw no reason whatever for it, and only +suspected that the Esquimaux wished to enjoy the company of their +friends a little longer, they proceeded. After some time, their own +Esquimaux hinted that there was a ground swell under the ice. It was +then hardly perceptible, except on lying down and applying the ear close +to the ice, when a hollow, disagreeably grating and roaring noise was +heard, as if ascending from the abyss. The weather remained clear, +except towards the east, where a bank of light clouds appeared, +interspersed with some dark streaks. But the wind being strong from the +north-west, nothing less than a sudden change of weather was expected. +The sun had now reached its height, and there was as yet little or no +alteration in the appearance of the sky. But the motion of the sea +under the ice had grown more perceptible, so as rather to alarm the +travellers, and they began to think it prudent to keep closer to the +shore. The ice had cracks and large fissures in many places, some +of which formed chasms of one or two feet wide; but as they are not +uncommon even in its best state, and the dogs easily leap over them, the +sledge following without danger, they are only terrible to new comers. + +As soon as the sun declined towards the west, the wind increased and +rose to a storm, the bank of clouds from the east began to ascend, and +the dark streaks to put themselves in motion against the wind. The snow +was violently driven about by partial whirlwinds, both on the ice, and +from off the peaks of the high mountains, and filled the air. At the +same time the ground-swell had increased so much that its effect upon +the ice became very extraordinary and alarming. The sledges, instead of +gliding along smoothly upon an even surface, sometimes ran with violence +after the dogs, and shortly after seemed with difficulty to ascend +the rising hill; for the elasticity of so vast a body of ice, of many +leagues square, supported by a troubled sea, though in some places +three or four yards in thickness, would, in some degree, occasion an +undulatory motion not unlike that of a sheet of paper accommodating +itself to the surface of a rippling stream. Noises were now likewise +distinctly heard in many directions, like the report of cannon, owing to +the bursting of the ice at some distance. + +The Esquimaux, therefore, drove with all haste towards the shore, +intending to take up their night-quarters on the south side of the +Nivak. But as it plainly appeared that the ice would break and disperse +in the open sea, Mark advised to push forward to the north of the Nivak, +from whence he hoped the track to Okkak might still remain entire. To +this proposal the company agreed; but when the sledges approached the +coast, the prospect before them was truly terrific. The ice having +broken loose from the rocks, was forced up and down, grinding and +breaking into a thousand pieces against the precipices, with a +tremendous noise, which, added to the raging of the wind, and the snow +driving about in the air, deprived the travellers almost of the power of +hearing and seeing anything distinctly. + +To make the land at any risk was now the only hope left, but it was with +the utmost difficulty the frighted dogs could be forced forward, the +whole body of ice sinking frequently below the surface of the rocks, +then rising above it. As the only moment to land was when it gained +the level of the coast, the attempt was extremely nice and hazardous. +However, by God's mercy, it succeeded; both sledges gained the shore, +and were drawn up the beach with much difficulty. + +The travellers had hardly time to reflect with gratitude to God on their +safety, when that part of the ice from which they had just now made good +their landing burst asunder, and the water, forcing itself from below, +covered and precipitated it into the sea. In an instant, as if by a +signal given, the whole mass of ice, extending for several miles from +the coast, and as far as the eye could reach, began to burst and be +overwhelmed by the immense waves. The sight was tremendous and awfully +grand: the large fields of ice, raising themselves out of the water, +striking against each other and plunging into the deep with a violence +not to be described, and a noise like the discharge of innumerable +batteries of heavy guns. The darkness of the night, the roaring of the +wind and sea, and the dashing of the waves and ice against the rocks, +filled the travellers with sensations of awe and horror, so as almost +to deprive them of the power of utterance. They stood overwhelmed with +astonishment at their miraculous escape, and even the heathen Esquimaux +expressed gratitude to God for their deliverance. + + + +[Note: _But high above desert renowned_ = Let it be renowned high above +desert.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + + A HAPPY LIFE. + + + How happy is he born or taught, + That serveth not another's will; + Whose armour is his honest thought, + And simple truth his highest skill. + + Whose passions not his masters are; + Whose soul is still prepared for death; + Not tied unto the world with care + Of prince's ear, or vulgar breath. + + Who hath his life from rumours freed; + Whose conscience is his strong retreat: + Whose state can neither flatterers feed, + Nor ruin make oppressors great. + + Who envies none whom chance doth raise, + Or vice: who never understood + How deepest wounds are given with praise; + Nor rules of state, but rules of good. + + Who God doth late and early pray + More of his grace than gifts to lend; + And entertains the harmless day + With a well-chosen book or friend. + + This man is freed from servile bands + Of hope to rise or fear to fall; + Lord of himself, though not of lands; + And having nothing, yet hath all. + + SIR HENRY WOTTON. + + + +[Notes: _Sir Henry Wotton_ (1568-1639). A poet, ambassador, and +miscellaneous writer, in the reign of James I. + + +_Born or taught_ = whether from natural character or by training. + + +_Nor ruin make oppressors great_ = nor _his_ ruin, &c. + + +_How deepest wounds are given with praise_. How praise may only cover +some concealed injury.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + + MAN'S SERVANTS. + + + For us the winds do blow; + The earth doth rest, heaven move, and fountains flow. + Nothing we see but means our good, + As our delight, or as our treasure: + The whole is either cupboard of our food, + Or cabinet of pleasure. + + The stars have us to bed; + Night draws the curtain, which the sun withdraws; + Music and light attend our head; + All things unto our flesh are kind + In their descent and being; to our mind + In their ascent and cause. + + More servants wait on Man + Than he'll take notice of. In every path + He treads down that which doth befriend him, + When sickness makes him pale and wan. + O mighty love! Man is one world, and hath + Another to attend him. + + Since, then, My God, Thou hast + So brave a palace built, O dwell in it, + That it may dwell with Thee at last! + Till then afford us so much wit + That, as the world serves _us_, we may serve _Thee_, + And both thy servants be. + + GEORGE HERBERT. + +[Notes: _George Herbert_ (1593-1632). A clergyman of the Church of +England, the author of many religious works in prose and poetry. His +poetry is overfull of conceits, but in spite of these is eminently +graceful and rich with fancy. + + +_The stars have its to led, i.e.,_ conduct, or show us to bed. + + +_All things unto our flesh are kind, &c., i.e.,_ as they minister to the +needs of our body here below, so they minister to the mind by leading +us to think of the Higher Cause that brings them into being. The words +_descent_ and _accent_ are not to be pressed; they are rather balanced +one against the other, according to the fashion of the day.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + + VIRTUE. + + + Sweet day, so cool, so calm, so bright, + The bridal of the earth and sky, + The dew shall weep thy fall to-night; + For thou must die. + + Sweet rose, whose hue, angry and brave, + Bids the rash gazer wipe his eye, + Thy root is ever in its grave, + And thou must die. + + Sweet spring, full of sweet days and roses, + A box where sweets compacted lie, + My music shows ye have your closes, + And all must die. + + Only a sweet and virtuous soul, + Like seasoned timber, never gives; + But though the whole world turn to coal, + Then chiefly lives. + + GEORGE HERBERT. + + + +[Note:----_The bridal of the earth and sky, i.e.,_ in which all the +beauties of sky and earth are united.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + + DEATH THE CONQUEROR. + + + The glories of our blood and state + Are shadows, not substantial things; + There is no armour against fate: + Death lays his icy hand on kings: + Sceptre and crown + Must tumble down, + And in the dust be equal made + With the poor crooked scythe and spade. + + Some men with swords may reap the field, + And plant fresh laurels where they kill; + But their strong nerves at last must yield, + They tame but one another still. + Early or late + They stoop to fate, + And must give up their murmuring breath, + When they, pale captives, creep to death. + + The garlands wither on your brow, + Then boast no more your mighty deeds; + Upon death's purple altar now + See, where the victor-victim bleeds; + All heads must come + To the cold tomb, + Only the actions of the just + Smell sweet, and blossom in their dust. + + JAMES SHIRLEY. + + + +[Notes: _James Shirley_ (1594-1666). A dramatic poet. + + +_And plant fresh laurels when they kill_ = even by the death they spread +around them in war, they may win new laurel-wreaths by victory. + + +_Purple_. As stained with blood.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +GROWTH OF EUROPEAN CIVILIZATION IN THE TWELFTH CENTURY. + +Various improvements in the system of jurisprudence, and administration +of justice, occasioned a change in manners, of great importance and of +extensive effect. They gave rise to a distinction of professions; they +obliged men to cultivate different talents, and to aim at different +accomplishments, in order to qualify themselves for the various +departments and functions which became necessary in society. Among +uncivilized nations there is but one profession honourable, that of +arms. All the ingenuity and vigour of the human mind are exerted in +acquiring military skill or address. The functions of peace are few and +simple, and require no particular course of education or of study as a +preparation for discharging them. This was the state of Europe during +several centuries. Every gentleman, born a soldier, scorned any other +occupation; he was taught no science but that of war; even his exercises +and pastimes were feats of martial prowess. Nor did the judicial +character, which persons of noble birth were alone entitled to assume, +demand any degree of knowledge beyond that which such untutored soldiers +possessed. To recollect a few traditionary customs which time had +confirmed, and rendered respectable; to mark out the lists of battle +with due formality; to observe the issue of the combat; and to pronounce +whether it had been conducted according to the laws of arms, included +everything that a baron, who acted as a judge, found it necessary to +understand. + +But when the forms of legal proceedings were fixed, when the rules of +decision were committed to writing, and collected into a body, law +became a science, the knowledge of which required a regular course of +study, together with long attention to the practice of courts. Martial +and illiterate nobles had neither leisure nor inclination to undertake a +task so laborious, as well as so foreign from all the occupations which +they deemed entertaining, or suitable to their rank. They gradually +relinquished their places in courts of justice, where their ignorance +exposed them to contempt. They became, weary of attending to the +discussion of cases, which grew too intricate for them to comprehend. +Not only the judicial determination of points which were the subject of +controversy, but the conduct of all legal business and transactions, was +committed to persons trained by previous study and application to the +knowledge of law. An order of men, to whom their fellow-citizens had +daily recourse for advice, and to whom they looked up for decision in +their most important concerns, naturally acquired consideration and +influence in society. They were advanced to honours which had been +considered hitherto as the peculiar rewards of military virtue. They +were entrusted with offices of the highest dignity and most extensive +power. Thus, another profession than that of arms came to be introduced +among the laity, and was reputed honourable. The functions of civil +life were attended to. The talents requisite for discharging them were +cultivated. A new road was opened to wealth and eminence. The arts and +virtues of peace were placed in their proper rank, and received their +due recompense. + +While improvements, so important with respect to the state of society +and the administration of justice, gradually made progress in Europe, +sentiments more liberal and generous had begun to animate the nobles. +These were inspired by the spirit of chivalry, which, though considered, +commonly, as a wild institution, the effect of caprice, and the source +of extravagance, arose naturally from the state of society at that +period, and had a very serious influence in refining the manners of the +European nations. The feudal state was a state of almost perpetual war, +rapine, and anarchy, during which the weak and unarmed were exposed +to insults or injuries. The power of the sovereign was too limited to +prevent these wrongs; and the administration of justice too feeble +to redress them. The most effectual protection against violence and +oppression was often found to be that which the valour and generosity +of private persons afforded. The same spirit of enterprise which had +prompted so many gentlemen to take arms in defence of the oppressed +pilgrims in Palestine, incited others to declare themselves the patrons +and avengers of injured innocence at home. When the final reduction of +the Holy Land under the dominion of infidels put an end to these foreign +expeditions, the latter was the only employment left for the activity +and courage of adventurers. To check the insolence of overgrown +oppressors; to rescue the helpless from captivity; to protect or to +avenge women, orphans, and ecclesiastics, who could not bear arms in +their own defence; to redress wrongs, and to remove grievances, were +deemed acts of the highest prowess and merit. Valour, humanity, +courtesy, justice, honour, were the characteristic qualities of +chivalry. To these was added religion, which mingled itself with every +passion and institution during the Middle Ages, and, by infusing a large +proportion of enthusiastic zeal, gave them such force as carried them +to romantic excess. Men were trained to knighthood by a long previous +discipline; they were admitted into the order by solemnities no less +devout than pompous; every person of noble birth courted that honour; it +was deemed a distinction superior to royalty; and monarchs were proud to +receive it from the hands of private gentlemen. + +This singular institution, in which valour, gallantry, and religion, +were so strangely blended, was wonderfully adapted to the taste and +genius of martial nobles; and its effects were soon visible in their +manners. War was carried on with less ferocity, when humanity came to be +deemed the ornament of knighthood no less than courage. More gentle and +polished manners were introduced, when courtesy was recommended as the +most amiable of knightly virtues. Violence and oppression decreased, +when it was reckoned meritorious to check and to punish them. A +scrupulous adherence to truth, with the most religious attention to +fulfil every engagement, became the distinguishing characteristic of a +gentleman, because chivalry was regarded as the school of honour, and +inculcated the most delicate sensibility with respect to those points. +The admiration of these qualities, together with the high distinctions +and prerogatives conferred on knighthood in every part of Europe, +inspired persons of noble birth on some occasions with a species of +military fanaticism, and led them to extravagant enterprises. But they +deeply imprinted on their minds the principles of generosity and honour. +These were strengthened by everything that can affect the senses or +touch the heart. The wild exploits of those romantic knights who sallied +forth in quest of adventures are well known, and have been treated with +proper ridicule. The political and permanent effects of the spirit of +chivalry have been less observed. Perhaps the humanity which accompanies +all the operations of war, the refinements of gallantry, and the point +of honour, the three chief circumstances which distinguished modern from +ancient manners, may be ascribed in a great measure to this institution, +which has appeared whimsical to superficial observers, but by its +effects has proved of great benefit to mankind. The sentiments which +chivalry inspired had a wonderful influence on manners and conduct +during the twelfth, thirteenth, fourteenth, and fifteenth centuries. +They were so deeply rooted, that they continued to operate after the +vigour and reputation of the institution itself began to decline. Some +considerable transactions recorded in the following history resemble +the adventurous exploits of chivalry, rather than the well-regulated +operations of sound policy. Some of the most eminent personages, whose +characters will be delineated, were strongly tinctured with this +romantic spirit. Francis I. was ambitious to distinguish himself by all +the qualities of an accomplished knight, and endeavoured to imitate the +enterprising genius of chivalry in war, as well as its pomp and courtesy +during peace. The fame which the French monarch acquired by these +splendid actions, so far dazzled his more temperate rival, that he +departed on some occasions from his usual prudence and moderation, and +emulated Francis in deeds of prowess or of gallantry. + +The progress of science and the cultivation of literature had +considerable effect in changing the manners of the European nations, +and introducing that civility and refinement by which they are now +distinguished. At the time when their empire was overturned, the +Romans, though they had lost that correct taste which has rendered the +productions of their ancestors standards of excellence, and models of +imitation for succeeding ages, still preserved their love of letters, +and cultivated the arts with great ardour. But rude barbarians were +so far from being struck with any admiration of these unknown +accomplishments, that they despised them. They were not arrived at that +state of society, when those faculties of the human mind which have +beauty and elegance for their objects begin to unfold themselves. They +were strangers to most of those wants and desires which are the parents +of ingenious invention; and as they did not comprehend either the merit +or utility of the Roman arts, they destroyed the monuments of them, with +an industry not inferior to that with which their posterity have since +studied to preserve or to recover them. The convulsions occasioned by +the settlement of so many unpolished tribes in the empire; the frequent +as well as violent revolutions in every kingdom which they established; +together with the interior defects in the form of government which they +introduced, banished security and leisure. They prevented the growth +of taste, or the culture of science, and kept Europe, during several +centuries, in that state of ignorance which has been already described. +But the events and institutions which I have enumerated produced great +alterations in society. As soon as their operation, in restoring liberty +and independence to one part of the community, began to be felt; as soon +as they began to communicate to all the members of society some taste +of the advantages arising from commerce, from public order, and from +personal security, the human mind became conscious of powers which it +did not formerly perceive, and fond of occupations or pursuits of which +it was formerly incapable. Towards the beginning of the twelfth century, +we discern the first symptoms of its awakening from that lethargy in +which it had been long sunk, and observe it turning with curiosity and +attention towards new objects. + + ROBERTSON. + + +[Notes: _Francis I_. (1494-1547). King of France; the contemporary of +Henry VIII. and of Charles V., Emperor of the Holy Roman Empire. The +constant rivalry and ever recurring wars between Francis and the latter, +occupy a great part of European history during the first half of the +16th century. + + +_His more temperate rival, i.e.,_ Charles V. + + +_At the time when their empire was overturned, the_ _Romans, &c._ In 410 +A.D., by the incursions of the Goths.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + + THE PASSIONS. + + (AN ODE FOR MUSIC.) + + + When Music, heavenly maid, was young, + While yet in early Greece she sung, + The Passions oft, to hear her shell, + Thronged around her magic cell, + Exulting, trembling, raging, fainting, + Possessed beyond the Muse's painting: + By turns they felt the glowing mind + Disturbed, delighted, raised, refined,-- + Till once, 'tis said, when all were fired, + Filled with fury, rapt, inspired, + From the supporting myrtles round + They snatched her instruments of sound; + And, as they oft had heard, apart, + Sweet lessons of her forceful art, + Each, for Madness ruled the hour, + Would prove his own expressive power. + + First Fear his hand, its skill to try, + Amid the chords bewildered laid, + And back recoiled, he knew not why, + E'en at the sound himself had made. + + Next Anger rushed: his eyes on fire, + In lightnings owned his secret stings; + In one rude clash he struck the lyre, + And swept with hurried hand the strings. + + With woful measures, wan Despair-- + Low sullen sounds his grief beguiled: + A solemn, strange, and mingled air, + 'Twas sad by fits, by starts 'twas wild. + + But thou, O Hope, with eyes so fair, + What was thy delighted measure? + Still it whispered promised pleasure, + And bade the lovely scenes at distance hail; + Still would her touch the scene prolong; + And from the rocks, the woods, the vale, + She called on Echo still through all the song; + And, where her sweetest theme she chose, + A soft responsive voice was heard at every close; + And hope, enchanted, smiled, and waved her golden + hair;-- + + And longer had she sung:--but, with a frown, + Revenge impatient rose: + He threw his blood-stained sword in thunder down, + And, with a withering look, + The war-denouncing trumpet took, + And blew a blast so loud and dread, + Were ne'er prophetic sounds so full of woe! + And ever and anon he beat + The doubling drum with furious heat: + + And though sometimes, each dreary pause between, + Dejected Pity at his side, + Her soul-subduing voice applied, + Yet still he kept his wild unaltered mien, + While each strained ball of sight seemed bursting from + his head. + + Thy numbers, Jealousy, to nought were fixed; + Sad proof of thy distressful state! + Of differing themes the veering song was mixed; + And now it courted Love, now raving called on Hate. + + With eyes upraised, as one inspired, + Pale Melancholy sat retired; + And from her wild sequestered seat, + In notes by distance made more sweet, + Poured through the mellow horn her pensive soul; + And dashing soft from rocks around, + Bubbling runnels joined the sound: + Through glades and glooms the mingled measure stole, + Or, o'er some haunted stream, with fond delay, + Round a holy calm diffusing, + Love of peace and lonely musing,-- + In hollow murmurs died away. + + But oh, how altered was its sprightlier tone! + When Cheerfulness, a nymph of healthiest hue, + Her bow across her shoulder flung, + Her buskins gemmed with morning dew, + Blew an inspiring air, that dale and thicket rung, + The hunter's call to Faun and Dryad known! + The oak-crowned Sisters and their chaste-eyed Queen, + Satyrs and Sylvan boys, were seen + Peeping from forth their alleys green. + Brown Exercise rejoiced to hear, + And Sport leaped up, and seized his beechen spear. + + Last came Joy's ecstatic trial; + He, with viny crown advancing, + First to the lively pipe his hand addressed; + But soon he saw the brisk awakening viol + Whose sweet entrancing voice he loved the best: + They would have thought, who heard the strain, + They saw in Tempe's vale her native maids, + Amidst the festal-sounding shades, + To some unwearied minstrel dancing; + While, as his flying fingers kissed the strings, + Love framed with Mirth a gay fantastic round; + Loose were her tresses seen, her zone unbound; + And he, amidst his frolic play, + As if he would the charming air repay, + Shook thousand odours from his dewy wings. + + O Music! sphere-descended maid, + Friend of Pleasure, Wisdom's aid! + Why, goddess, why, to us denied, + Lay'st thou thy ancient lyre aside? + As in that loved, Athenian bower + You learned an all-commanding power. + Thy mimic soul; O nymph endeared! + Can well recall what then it heard. + Where is thy native simple heart + Devote to Virtue, Fancy, Art? + Arise, as in that elder time, + Warm, energetic, chaste, sublime! + Thy wonders in that god-like age, + Fill thy recording Sister's page;-- + 'Tis said, and I believe the tale, + Thy humblest reed could more prevail, + Had more of strength, diviner rage, + Than all which charms this laggard age, + E'en all at once together found + Cecilia's mingled world of sound;-- + O bid our vain endeavours cease: + Revive the just designs of Greece: + Return in all thy simple state! + Confirm the tales her sons relate! + + COLLINS. + + + +[Notes: _William Collins_ (1720-1756). A poet, who throughout life +struggled with adversity, and who, though he produced little, refined +everything he wrote with a most fastidious taste and with elaborate +care. + + + _Shell_, according to a fashion common with the poets of the +first half of the 18th century, stands for lyre. The Latin word +_testudo_, a shell is often so used. + + +_Possessed beyond the Muse's painting_ = enthralled beyond what poetry +can describe. + + +_His own expressive power, i.e.,_ his power to express his own feelings. + + +_In lightnings owned his secret stings_ = in lightning-like touches +confessed the hidden fury which inspired him. + + +_Veering song_. The ever-changeful song. + + +_Her wild sequestered seat_. Sequestered properly is used of something +which, being in dispute, is deposited in a third person's hands: hence +of something set apart or in retirement. + + +_Round a holy calm diffusing_ = diffusing around a holy calm. + + +_Buskin_. A boot reaching above the ankle. _Gemmed_ = sparkling as with +gems. + + +Faun and Dryad_. Creatures with whom ancient mythology peopled the +woods. + + +_Their chaste-eyed Queen_ = Diana. + + +_Brown exercise_. Exercise is here personified and represented as brown +and sunburnt. + + +_Viol_. A stringed musical instrument. + + +_In Tempe's vale_. In Thessaly, especially connected with the worship of +Apollo, the god of poetry and music. + + +_Sphere-descended maid_. A metaphor common with the poets, and taken +from a Greek fancy most elaborately described in Plato's 'Republic,' +where the system of the universe is pictured as a series of whorls +linked in harmony. + + +_Thy mimic soul_. Thy soul apt to imitate. + + +_Devote_ = devoted. A form more close to that of the Latin participle, +from which it is derived. + + +_Thy recording Sister_ = the Muse of History. + + +_Cecilia's mingled world of sound_ = the organ. So St. Cecilia is called +in Dryden's Ode, "Inventress of the vocal frame." + + +_The just designs_ = the well-conceived, artistic designs.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +"A WHALE HUNT." + + +A tide of unusual height had carried the whale over a large bar of sand, +into the voe or creek in which he was now lying. So soon as he found the +water ebbing, he became sensible of his danger, and had made desperate +efforts to get over the shallow water, where the waves broke on the bar +but hitherto he had rather injured than mended his condition, having got +himself partly aground, and lying therefore particularly exposed to the +meditated attack. At this moment the enemy came down upon him. The front +ranks consisted of the young and hardy, armed in the miscellaneous +manner we have described; while, to witness and animate their efforts, +the young women, and the elderly persons of both sexes, took their place +among the rocks, which overhung the scene of action. + +As the boats had to double a little headland, ere they opened the mouth +of the voe, those who came by land to the shores of the inlet had time +to make the necessary reconnaissances upon the force and situation of +the enemy, on whom they were about to commence a simultaneous attack by +land and sea. + +This duty, the stout-hearted and experienced general--for so the Udaller +might be termed--would entrust to no eyes but his own; and, indeed, his +external appearance, and his sage conduct, rendered him alike qualified +for the command which he enjoyed. His gold-laced hat was exchanged for a +bearskin cap, his suit of blue broadcloth, with its scarlet lining, and +loops, and frogs of bullion, had given place to a red flannel jacket, +with buttons of black horn, over which he wore a seal-skin shirt +curiously seamed and plaited on the bosom, such as are used by the +Esquimaux, and sometimes by the Greenland whale-fishers. Sea-boots of +a formidable size completed his dress, and in his hand he held a large +whaling-knife, which he brandished, as if impatient to employ it in the +operation of _flinching_ the huge animal which lay before them,--that +is, the act of separating its flesh from its bones. Upon closer +examination, however, he was obliged to confess that the sport to which +he had conducted his friends, however much it corresponded with the +magnificent scale of his hospitality, was likely to be attended with its +own peculiar dangers and difficulties. + +The animal, upwards of sixty feet in length, was lying perfectly still, +in a deep part of the voe into which it had weltered, and where it +seemed to await the return of tide, of which it was probably assured by +instinct. A council of experienced harpooners was instantly called, and +it was agreed that an effort should be made to noose the tail of this +torpid leviathan, by casting a cable around it, to be made fast by +anchors to the shore, and thus to secure against his escape, in case the +tide should make before they were able to dispatch him. Three boats were +destined to this delicate piece of service, one of which the Udaller +himself proposed to command, while Cleveland and Mertoun were to direct +the two others. This being decided, they sat down on the strand, waiting +with impatience until the naval part of the force should arrive in the +voe. It was during this interval, that Triptolemus Yellowley, after +measuring with his eyes the extraordinary size of the whale, observed, +that in his poor mind, "A wain[1] with six owsen,[2] or with sixty owsen +either, if they were the owsen of the country, could not drag siccan[3] +a huge creature from the water, where it was now lying, to the +sea-beach." + +Trifling as this remark may seem to the reader, it was connected with a +subject which always fired the blood of the old Udaller, who, glancing +upon Triptolemus a quick and stern look, asked him what it signified, +supposing a hundred oxen could not drag the whale upon the beach? Mr. +Yellowley, though not much liking the tone with which the question was +put, felt that his dignity and his profit compelled him to answer as +follows:--"Nay, sir; you know yourself, Master Magnus Troil, and every +one knows that knows anything, that whales of siccan size as may not be +masterfully dragged on shore by the instrumentality of one wain with six +owsen, are the right and property of the Admiral, who is at this time +the same noble lord who is, moreover, Chamberlain of these isles." + +"And I tell you, Mr. Triptolemus Yellowley," said the Udaller, "as I +would tell your master if he were here, that every man who risks his +life to bring that fish ashore, shall have an equal and partition, +according to our ancient and lovable Norse custom and wont; nay, if +there is so much as a woman looking on, that will but touch the cable, +she will be partner with us. All shall share that lend a hand, and never +a one else. So you, Master Factor, shall be busy as well as other folk, +and think yourself lucky to share like other folk. Jump into that boat" +(for the boats had by this time pulled round the headland), "and you, my +lads, make way for the factor in the stern-sheets--he shall be the first +man this day that shall strike the fish." + +The three boats destined for this perilous service now approached the +dark mass, which lay like an islet in the deepest part of the voe, +and suffered them to approach without showing any sign of animation. +Silently, and with such precaution as the extreme delicacy of the +operation required, the intrepid adventurers, after the failure of their +first attempt, and the expenditure of considerable time, succeeded in +casting a cable around the body of the torpid monster, and in carrying +the ends of it ashore, when a hundred hands were instantly employed in +securing them. But ere this was accomplished, the tide began to make +fast, and the Udaller informed his assistants that either the fish must +be killed or at least greatly wounded ere the depth of water on the bar +was sufficient to float him; or that he was not unlikely to escape from +their joint prowess. + +"Wherefore," said he, "we must set to work, and the factor shall have +the honour to make the first throw." + +The valiant Triptolemus caught the word; and it is necessary to say that +the patience of the whale, in suffering himself to be noosed without +resistance, had abated his terrors, and very much lowered the creature +in his opinion. He protested the fish had no more wit, and scarcely more +activity, than a black snail; and, influenced by this undue contempt +of the adversary, he waited neither for a farther signal, nor a better +weapon, nor a more suitable position, but, rising in his energy, hurled +his graip with all his force against the unfortunate monster. The boats +had not yet retreated from him to the distance necessary to ensure +safety, when this injudicious commencement of the war took place. + +Magnus Troil, who had only jested with the factor, and had reserved the +launching the first spear against the whale to some much more skilful +hand, had just time to exclaim, "Mind yourselves, lads, or we are all +stamped!" when the monster, roused at once from inactivity by the blow +of the factor's missile, blew, with a noise resembling the explosion of +a steam-engine, a huge shower of water into the air, and at the same +time began to lash the waves with its tail in every direction. The boat +in which Magnus presided received the shower of brine which the animal +spouted aloft; and the adventurous Triptolemus, who had a full share of +the immersion, was so much astonished and terrified by the consequences +of his own valorous deed, that he tumbled backwards amongst the feet of +the people, who, too busy to attend to him, were actively engaged in +getting the boat into shoal water, out of the whale's reach. Here he lay +for some minutes, trampled on by the feet of the boatmen, until they lay +on their oars to bale, when the Udaller ordered them to pull to +shore, and land this spare hand, who had commenced the fishing so +inauspiciously. + +While this was doing, the other boats had also pulled off to safer +distance, and now, from these as well as from the shore, the unfortunate +native of the deep was overwhelmed by all kinds of missiles--harpoons +and spears flew against him on all sides--guns were fired, and each +various means of annoyance plied which could excite him to exhaust his +strength in useless rage. When the animal found that he was locked in +by shallows on all sides, and became sensible, at the same time, of the +strain of the cable on his body, the convulsive efforts which he made to +escape, accompanied with sounds resembling deep and loud groans, would +have moved the compassion of all but a practised whale-fisher. The +repeated showers which he spouted into the air began now to be mingled +with blood, and the waves which surrounded him assumed the same crimson +appearance. Meantime the attempts of the assailants were redoubled; but +Mordaunt Mertoun and Cleveland, in particular, exerted themselves to the +uttermost, contending who should display most courage in approaching the +monster, so tremendous in its agonies, and should inflict the most deep +and deadly wounds upon its huge bulk. + +The contest seemed at last pretty well over; for although the animal +continued from time to time to make frantic exertions for liberty, yet +its strength appeared so much exhausted, that, even with the assistance +of the tide, which had now risen considerably, it was thought it could +scarcely extricate itself. + +Magnus gave the signal to venture nearer to the whale, calling out at +the same time, "Close in, lads, she is not half so mad now--the Factor +may look for a winter's oil for the two lamps at Harfra--pull close in, +lads." + +Ere his orders could be obeyed, the other two boats had anticipated +his purpose; and Mordaunt Mertoun, eager to distinguish himself above +Cleveland, had with the whole strength he possessed, plunged a half-pike +into the body of the animal. But the leviathan, like a nation whose +resources appear totally exhausted by previous losses and calamities, +collected his whole remaining force for an effort, which proved at once +desperate and successful. The wound, last received had probably reached +through his external defences of blubber, and attained some very +sensitive part of the system; for he roared loud, as he sent to the sky +a mingled sheet of brine and blood, and snapping the strong cable like a +twig, overset Mertoun's boat with a blow of his tail, shot himself, by +a mighty effort, over the bar, upon which the tide had now risen +considerably, and made out to sea, carrying with him a whole grove of +the implements which had been planted in his body, and leaving behind +him, on the waters, a dark red trace of his course. + + SCOTT. + + + +[Notes: [1] Waggon. + + +[2] Oxen. + + +[3] Such.] + + + + + + * * * * * + + + + + VISION OF BELSHAZZAR. + + + The King was on his throne. + The Satraps throng'd the hall: + A thousand bright lamps shone + O'er that high festival. + A thousand cups of gold, + In Judah deem'd divine-- + Jehovah's vessels hold + The godless heathen's wine! + + In that same hour and hall, + The fingers of a hand + Came forth against the wall. + And wrote as if on sand: + The fingers of a man;-- + A solitary hand + Along the letters ran, + And traced them like a wand. + + The monarch saw, and shook, + And bade no more rejoice; + All bloodless wax'd his look, + And tremulous his voice. + "Let the men of lore appear, + The wisest of the earth, + And expound the words of fear, + Which mar our royal mirth." + + Chaldea's seers are good, + But here they have no skill; + And the unknown letters stood + Untold and awful still. + And Babel's men of age + Are wise and deep in lore; + But now they were not sage, + They saw--but knew no more. + + A captive in the land, + A stranger and a youth, + He heard the king's command, + He saw that writing's truth. + The lamps around were bright, + The prophecy in view; + He read it on that night,-- + The morrow proved it true. + + "Belshazzar's grave is made, + His kingdom pass'd away, + He, in the balance weigh'd, + Is light and worthless clay; + The shroud his robe of state, + His canopy the stone; + The Mede is at his gate! + The Persian on his throne!" + + BYRON. + + + +[Notes: _Belshazzar_, the last king of Babylon, lived probably in the +6th century B.C. He was defeated by the Medes and Persians combined. + + +_Satraps_. The governors or magistrates of provinces. + + +_A thousand cups of gold_, &c. Taken in the captivity of Judah. + + +_A captive in the land_ = the Prophet Daniel.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + + YE MARINERS OF ENGLAND. + + + Ye mariners of England, + That guard our native seas, + Whose flag has braved a thousand years + The battle and the breeze! + Your glorious standard launch again, + To match another foe! + And sweep through the deep, + While the stormy winds do blow; + And the battle rages loud and long, + And the stormy winds do blow. + + The spirit of your fathers + Shall start from every wave!-- + For the deck it was their field of fame, + And ocean was their grave; + Where Blake and mighty Nelson fell, + Your manly hearts shall glow, + + As ye sweep through the deep + While the stormy winds do blow; + While the battle rages loud and long, + And the stormy winds do blow. + + Britannia needs no bulwarks, + No towers along the steep; + Her march is o'er the mountain-waves, + Her home is on the deep. + With thunders from her native oak, + She quells the floods below, + As they roar on the shore, + When the stormy winds do blow. + While the battle rages loud and long, + And the stormy winds do blow. + + The meteor flag of England + Shall yet terrific burn; + Till danger's troubled night depart, + And the star of peace return. + Then, then, ye ocean warriors! + Your song and feast shall flow + To the fame of your name, + When the storm has ceased to blow; + When the fiery fight is heard no more, + And the storm has ceased to blow. + + CAMPBELL. + + +[Notes: _Blake_. Robert Blake (1598-1657), an English admiral under +Cromwell, chiefly distinguished for his victories over the Dutch.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +A SHIPWRECK. + + +One morning I can remember well, how we watched from the Hartland Cliffs +a great barque, which came drifting and rolling in before the western +gale, while we followed her up the coast, parsons and sportsmen, farmers +and Preventive men, with the Manby's mortar lumbering behind us in a +cart, through stone gaps and track-ways, from headland to headland. The +maddening excitement of expectation as she ran wildly towards the cliffs +at our feet, and then sheered off again inexplicably;--her foremast and +bowsprit, I recollect, were gone short off by the deck; a few rags of +sail fluttered from her main and mizen. But with all straining of eyes +and glasses, we could discern no sign of man on board. Well I recollect +the mingled disappointment and admiration of the Preventive men, as a +fresh set of salvors appeared in view, in the form of a boat's crew of +Clovelly fishermen; how we watched breathlessly the little black speck +crawling and struggling up in the teeth of the gale, under the shelter +of the land, till, when the ship had rounded a point into smoother +water, she seized on her like some tiny spider on a huge unwieldy +fly; and then how one still smaller black speck showed aloft on the +main-yard, and another--and then the desperate efforts to get the +topsail set--and how we saw it tear out of their hands again, and again, +and again, and almost fancied we could hear the thunder of its flappings +above the roar of the gale, and the mountains of surf which made the +rocks ring beneath our feet;--and how we stood silent, shuddering, +expecting every moment to see whirled into the sea from the plunging +yards one of those same tiny black specks, in each one of which was a +living human soul, with sad women praying for him at home! And then how +they tried to get her head round to the wind, and disappeared instantly +in a cloud of white spray--and let her head fall back again--and jammed +it round again, and disappeared again--and at last let her drive +helplessly up the bay, while we kept pace with her along the cliffs; and +how at last, when she had been mastered and fairly taken in tow, and was +within two miles of the pier, and all hearts were merry with the +hopes of a prize which would make them rich, perhaps, for years to +come--one-third, I suppose, of the whole value of her cargo--how she +broke loose from them at the last moment, and rushed frantically in upon +those huge rocks below us, leaping great banks of slate at the blow of +each breaker, tearing off masses of ironstone which lie there to this +day to tell the tale, till she drove up high and dry against the cliff, +and lay, like an enormous stranded whale, grinding and crashing herself +to pieces against the walls of her adamantine cage. And well I recollect +the sad records of the log-book which was left on board the deserted +ship; how she had been waterlogged for weeks and weeks, buoyed up by her +timber cargo, the crew clinging in the tops, and crawling down, when +they dared, for putrid biscuit-dust and drops of water, till the water +was washed overboard and gone; and then notice after notice, "On this +day such an one died," "On this day such an one was washed away"--the +log kept up to the last, even when there was only that to tell, by the +stern business-like merchant skipper, whoever he was; and how at last, +when there was neither food nor water, the strong man's heart seemed +to have quailed, or perhaps risen, into a prayer, jotted down in the +log--"The Lord have mercy on us!"--and then a blank of several pages, +and, scribbled with a famine-shaken hand, "Remember thy Creator in the +days of thy youth;"--and so the log and the ship were left to the rats, +which covered the deck when our men boarded her. And well I remember +the last act of that tragedy; for a ship has really, as sailors feel, +a personality, almost a life and soul of her own; and as long as her +timbers hold together, all is not over. You can hardly call her a +corpse, though the human beings who inhabited her, and were her soul, +may have fled into the far eternities; and so we felt that night, as we +came down along the woodland road, with the north-west wind hurling dead +branches and showers of crisp oak-leaves about our heads; till suddenly, +as we staggered out of the wood, we came upon such a picture as it would +have baffled Correggio, or Rembrandt himself, to imitate. Under a +wall was a long tent of sails and spars, filled with Preventive men, +fishermen, Lloyd's underwriters, lying about in every variety of strange +attitude and costume; while candles, stuck in bayonet-handles in the +wall, poured out a wild glare over shaggy faces and glittering weapons, +and piles of timber, and rusty iron cable, that glowed red-hot in the +light, and then streamed up the glen towards us through the salt misty +air in long fans of light, sending fiery bars over the brown transparent +oak foliage and the sad beds of withered autumn flowers, and glorifying +the wild flakes of foam, as they rushed across the light-stream, into +troops of tiny silver angels, that vanished into the night and hid +themselves among the woods from the fierce spirit of the storm. And +then, just where the glare of the lights and watch-fires was most +brilliant, there too the black shadows of the cliff had placed the point +of intensest darkness, lightening gradually upwards right and left, +between the two great jaws of the glen, into a chaos of grey mist, where +the eye could discern no form of sea or cloud, but a perpetual shifting +and quivering as if the whole atmosphere was writhing with agony in the +clutches of the wind. + +The ship was breaking up; and we sat by her like hopeless physicians by +a deathbed-side, to watch the last struggle,--and "the effects of the +deceased." I recollect our literally warping ourselves down to the +beach, holding on by rocks and posts. There was a saddened awe-struck +silence, even upon the gentleman from Lloyd's with the pen behind his +ear. A sudden turn of the clouds let in a wild gleam of moonshine upon +the white leaping heads of the breakers, and on the pyramid of the +Black-church Rock, which stands in summer in such calm grandeur gazing +down on the smiling bay, with the white sand of Braunton and the red +cliffs of Portledge shining through its two vast arches; and against a +slab of rock on the right, for years afterwards discoloured with her +paint, lay the ship, rising slowly on every surge, to drop again with +a piteous crash as the wave fell back from the cliff, and dragged the +roaring pebbles back with it under the coming wall of foam. You have +heard of ships at the last moment crying aloud like living things in +agony? I heard it then, as the stumps of her masts rocked and reeled in +her, and every plank and joint strained and screamed with the dreadful +tension. + +A horrible image--a human being shrieking on the rack; rose up before +me at those strange semi-human cries, and would not be put away--and I +tried to turn, and yet my eyes were riveted on the black mass, which +seemed vainly to implore the help of man against the stern ministers of +the Omnipotent. + +Still she seemed to linger in the death-struggle, and we turned at last +away; when, lo! a wave, huger than all before it, rushed up the boulders +towards us. We had just time to save ourselves. A dull, thunderous +groan, as if a mountain had collapsed, rose above the roar of the +tempest; and we all turned with an instinctive knowledge of what had +happened, just in time to see the huge mass melt away into the boiling +white, and vanish for evermore. And then the very raving of the wind +seemed hushed with awe; the very breakers plunged more silently towards +the shore, with something of a sullen compunction; and as we stood and +strained our eyes into the gloom, one black plank after another crawled +up out of the darkness upon the head of the coming surge, and threw +itself at our feet like the corpse of a drowning man, too spent to +struggle more. + + CHARLES KINGSLEY. + + + + + * * * * * + + + + + A SHIPWRECK. + + + Then rose from sea to sky the wild farewell,-- + Then shrieked the timid, and stood still the brave,-- + Then some leaped overboard with dreadful yell, + As eager to anticipate their grave; + And the sea yawned around her like a hell, + And down she sucked with her the whirling wave, + Like one who grapples with his enemy, + And strives to strangle him before he die. + + And first one universal shriek there rushed, + Louder than the loud ocean, like a crash + Of echoing thunder; and then all was hushed, + Save the wild wind and the remorseless dash + Of billows; but at intervals there gushed, + Accompanied with a convulsive splash, + A solitary shriek, the bubbling cry + Of some strong swimmer in his agony. + + BYRON. + + + + + * * * * * + + + + + THE HAPPY WARRIOR. + + + Who is the happy Warrior? Who is he + That every man in arms should wish to be? + --It is the generous Spirit, who when brought + Among the tasks of real life, hath wrought + Upon the plan that pleased his boyish thought: + Whose high endeavours are an inward light + That makes the path before him always bright: + Who, with a natural instinct to discern + What knowledge can perform, is diligent to learn: + Abides by this resolve, and stops not there, + But makes his moral being his prime care; + Who, doomed to go in company with Pain, + And Fear, and Bloodshed, miserable train! + Turns his necessity to glorious gain; + In face of these doth exercise a power + Which is our human nature's highest dower; + Controls them and subdues, transmutes, bereaves + Of their bad influence, and their good receives: + By objects, which might force the soul to abate + Her feeling, rendered more compassionate; + Is placable--because occasions rise + So often that demand such sacrifice; + More skilful in self knowledge, even more pure, + As tempted more; more able to endure, + As more exposed to suffering and distress; + Thence, also, more alive to tenderness. + --Tis he whose law is reason; who depends + Upon that law as on the best of friends; + Whence, in a state where men are tempted still + To evil for a guard against worse ill, + And what in quality or act is best + Doth seldom on a right foundation rest, + He labours good on good to fix, and owes + To virtue every triumph that he knows: + --Who, if he rise to station of command, + Rises by open means; and there will stand + On honourable terms, or else retire, + And in himself possess his own desire; + Who comprehends his trust, and to the same + Keeps faithful with a singleness of aim; + And therefore does not stoop, nor lie in wait + For wealth, or honours, or for worldly state: + Whom they must follow; on whose head must fall, + Like showers of manna, if they come at all; + Whose powers shed round him in the common strife, + Or mild concerns of ordinary life, + A constant influence, a peculiar grace; + But who, if he be called upon to face + Some awful moment to which Heaven has joined + Great issues, good or bad for human kind, + Is happy as a Lover; and attired + With sudden brightness, like a Man inspired; + And, through the heat of conflict, keeps the law + In calmness made, and sees what he foresaw: + Or if an unexpected call succeed, + Come when it will, is equal to the need: + --He who, though thus endued as with a sense + And faculty for storm and turbulence, + Is yet a Soul whose master-bias leans + To homefelt pleasures and to gentle scenes; + Sweet images! which, wheresoe'er he be, + Are at his heart; and such fidelity + It is his darling passion to approve; + More brave for this, that he hath much to love:-- + 'Tis, finally, the Man, who, lifted, high, + Conspicuous object in a Nation's eye, + Or left unthought of in obscurity,-- + Who, with a toward or untoward lot, + Prosperous or adverse, to his wish or not-- + Plays, in the many games of life, that one + Where what he most doth value must be won: + Whom neither shape of danger can dismay, + Nor thought of tender happiness betray; + Who not content that former worth stand fast, + Looks forward, persevering to the last, + From well to better, daily self-surpassed: + Who, whether praise of him must walk the earth + For ever, and to noble deeds give birth, + Or he must fall, to sleep without his fame, + And leave a dead unprofitable name-- + Finds comfort in himself and in his cause; + And, while the mortal mist is gathering, draws + His breath in confidence of Heaven's applause: + This is the happy Warrior; this is he + That every Man in arms should wish to be. + + Wordsworth. + + + +[Notes: _Turns his necessity to glorious gain_. Turns the necessity +which lies on him of fellowship with pain, and fear, and bloodshed, into +glorious gain. + + +_More skilful in self knowledge, even more pure, as tempted more_. +"His self-knowledge and his purity are all the greater because of the +temptations he has had to withstand." + + +_Whose law is reason_ = whose every action is obedient to reason. + + +_In himself possess his own desire_. According to Aristotle, virtuous +activity is the highest reward the good man can attain; virtue has no +end beyond action; according to the modern proverb, "Virtue is its own +reward." + + +_More brave for this, that he hath much to love_. Here also Wordsworth +follows Aristotle in his description of the virtue of manliness. The +good man, according to Aristotle, is most brave of all in encountering +"the awful moment of great issues," in that he has the most to lose by +death. + + +_Not content that former worth stand fast_. Not content to rest on the +foundation of accomplished good and worthy deeds, solid though it be. + + +_Finds comfort in himself_. Compare: "In himself possess his own +desire."] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +THE BLACK PRINCE. + +He was the first great English captain, who showed what English soldiers +were, and what they could do against Frenchmen, and against all the +world. He was the first English Prince who showed what it was to be a +true gentleman. He was the first, but he was not the last. We have seen +how, when he died, Englishmen thought that all their hopes had died with +him. But we know that it was not so; we know that the life of a great +nation is not bound up in the life of a single man; we know that the +valour and the courtesy and the chivalry of England are not buried in +the grave of the Plantagenet Prince. It needs only a glance round the +country, to see that the high character of an English gentleman, of +which the Black Prince was the noble pattern, is still to be found +everywhere; and has since his time been spreading itself more and more +through classes, which in his time seemed incapable of reaching it. It +needs only a glance down the names of our own Cathedral (of Canterbury); +and the tablets on the walls, with their tattered flags, will tell you +in a moment that he, as he lies up there aloft, with his head resting on +his helmet, and his spurs on his feet, is but the first of a long +line of English heroes--that the brave men who fought at Sobraon and +Feroozeshah are the true descendants of those who fought at Cressy and +Poitiers. + +And not to soldiers only, but to all who are engaged in the long warfare +of life, is his conduct an example. To unite in our lives the two +qualities expressed in his motto, "High spirit" and "reverent service," +is to be, indeed, not only a true gentleman and a true soldier, but a +true Christian also. To show to all who differ from us, not only in war +but in peace, that delicate forbearance, that fear of hurting another's +feelings, that happy art of saying the right thing to the right person, +which he showed to the captive king, would indeed add a grace and a +charm to the whole course of this troublesome world, such as none can +afford to lose, whether high or low. Happy are they, who having this +gift by birth and station, use it for its highest purposes; still more +happy are they, who having it not by birth and station, have acquired +it, as it may be acquired, by Christian gentleness and Christian +charity. + +And, lastly, to act in all the various difficulties of our every-day +life, with that coolness, and calmness, and faith in a higher power than +his own, which he showed when the appalling danger of his situation +burst upon him at Poitiers, would smooth a hundred difficulties, and +ensure a hundred victories. We often think that we have no power in +ourselves, no advantages of position, to help us against our many +temptations, to overcome the many obstacles we encounter. Let us take +our stand by the Black Prince's tomb, and go back once more in thought +to the distant fields of France. A slight rise in the wild upland plain, +a steep lane through vineyards and underwood, this was all that he had, +humanly speaking, on his side; but he turned it to the utmost use of +which it could be made, and won the most glorious of battles. So, in +like manner, our advantages may be slight--hardly perceptible to any +but ourselves--let us turn them to account, and the results will be a +hundredfold; we have only to adopt the Black Prince's bold and cheering +words, when first he saw his enemies, "God is my help. I must fight them +as best I can;" adding that lofty, yet resigned and humble prayer, which +he uttered when the battle was announced to be inevitable, and which has +since become a proverb, "God defend the right." + + DEAN STANLEY'S _Memorials of Canterbury_. + + + +[Notes: _The Black Prince_. Edward, the son of Edward III, and father of +Richard II. He not only won for the English the renown of conquest, but +befriended the early efforts after liberty. His untimely death plunged +England into the evils of a long minority under his son. The one stain +on his name is his massacre of the townsfolk of Limoges. + + +"_Reverent service_," or "I serve" (Ich dien), the motto adopted by the +Black Prince from the King of Bohemia, his defeated foe. + + +_Poitiers_. His victory won over the French king, John, whom he took +prisoner (1356).] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +THE ASSEMBLY OF URI. + + +Let me ask you to follow me in spirit to the very home and birth-place +of freedom, to the land where we need not myth or fable to add aught to +the fresh and gladdening feeling with which we for the first time tread +the soil and drink the air of the immemorial democracy of Uri. It is one +of the opening days of May: it is the morning of Sunday; for men then +deem that the better the day the better the deed; they deem that the +Creator cannot be more truly honoured than in using, in His fear and in +His presence, the highest of the gifts which He has bestowed on man. But +deem not that, because the day of Christian worship is chosen for the +great yearly assembly of a Christian commonwealth, the more direct +sacred duties of the day are forgotten. Before we, in our luxurious +island, have lifted ourselves from our beds, the men of the mountains, +Catholic and Protestant alike, have already paid the morning's worship +in God's temple. They have heard the mass of the priest, or they have +listened to the sermon of the pastor, before some of us have awakened +to the fact that the morn of the holy day has come. And when I saw men +thronging the crowded church, or kneeling, for want of space within, +on the bare ground beside the open door, and when I saw them marching +thence to do the highest duties of men and citizens, I could hardly +forbear thinking of the saying of Holy Writ, that "Where the Spirit of +the Lord is, there is liberty." From the market-place of Altdorf, the +little capital of the Canton, the procession makes its way to the place +of meeting at Bozlingen. First marches the little army of the Canton, an +army whose weapons can never be used save to drive back an invader from +their land. Over their heads floats the banner, the bull's head of +Uri, the ensign which led men to victory on the fields of Sempach and +Morgarten. And before them all, on the shoulders of men clad in a garb +of ages past, are borne the famous horns, the spoils of the wild bull +of ancient days, the very horns whose blast struck such dread into the +fearless heart of Charles of Burgundy. Then, with their lictors before +them, come the magistrates of the commonwealth on horseback, the chief +magistrate, the Landammann, with his sword by his side. The people +follow the chiefs whom they have chosen to the place of meeting, a +circle in a green meadow with a pine forest rising above their heads and +a mighty spur of the mountain range facing them on the other side of the +valley. The multitude of the freemen take their seats around the chief +ruler of the commonwealth, whose term of office comes that day to an +end. The Assembly opens; a short space is first given to prayer, silent +prayer offered up by each man in the temple of God's own rearing. Then +comes the business of the day. If changes in the law are demanded, they +are then laid before the vote of the Assembly, in which each citizen +of full age has an equal vote and an equal right of speech. The yearly +magistrates have now discharged all their duties; their term of office +is at an end, the trust which has been placed in their hands falls back +into the hands of those by whom it was given, into the hands of the +sovereign people. The chief of the commonwealth, now such no longer, +leaves his seat of office, and takes his place as a simple citizen in +the ranks of his fellows. It rests with the freewill of the Assembly to +call him back to his chair of office, or to set another there in his +stead. Men who have neither looked into the history of the past, nor yet +troubled themselves to learn what happens year by year in their own +age, are fond of declaiming against the caprice and ingratitude of the +people, and of telling us that under a democratic government neither men +nor measures can remain for an hour unchanged. The witness alike of the +present and of the past is an answer to baseless theories like these. +The spirit which made democratic Athens year by year bestow her highest +offices on the patrician Periklês and the reactionary Phôkiôn, still +lives in the democracies of Switzerland. The ministers of kings, whether +despotic or constitutional, may vainly envy the sure tenure of office +which falls to the lot of those who are chosen to rule by the voice of +the people. Alike in the whole Confederation and in the single Canton, +re-election is the rule; the rejection of the outgoing magistrate is the +rare exception. The Landammann of Uri, whom his countrymen have +raised to the seat of honour, and who has done nothing to lose their +confidence, need not fear that when he has gone to the place of +meeting in the pomp of office, his place in the march homeward will be +transferred to another against his will. + + E. A. FREEMAN. + + + +[Notes: _Uri._ A Swiss canton which, early in the 14th century, united +with Unterwalden and Schwytz to form the Swiss Confederation. + + +_Sempach_ (1386) _and Morgarten_ (1315), both great victories won by the +Swiss over the Austrians. + + +----_Charles the Bold of Burgundy_ was defeated by the Swiss in 1476 at +Morat. + + +_ Periklês_. A great orator and statesman, who, in the middle of the 5th +century, B.C., guided the policy of Athens, and made her the centre of +literature, philosophy, and art. + + +_ Phôkiôn _. An Athenian statesman of the 4th century B.C., who opposed +Demosthenes in his efforts to resist Philip of Macedon. His reactionary +policy was atoned for by the uprightness of his character.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + + LIBERTY. + + + 'Tis liberty alone that gives the flower + Of fleeting life its lustre and perfume; + And we are weeds without it. All constraint, + Except what wisdom lays on evil men, + Is evil: hurts the faculties, impedes + Their progress in the road of science: blinds + The eyesight of Discovery; and begets, + In those that suffer it, a sordid mind + Bestial, a meagre intellect, unfit + To be the tenant of man's noble form. + Thee therefore still, blameworthy as thou art, + With all thy loss of empire, and though squeez'd + By public exigence, till annual food + Fails for the craving hunger of the state, + Thee I account still happy, and the chief + Among the nations, seeing thou art free, + My native nook of earth! Thy clime is rude, + Replete with vapours, and disposes much + All hearts to sadness, and none more than mine: + Thine unadult'rate manners are less soft + And plausible than social life requires, + And thou hast need of discipline and art, + To give thee what politer France receives + From nature's bounty--that humane address + And sweetness, without which no pleasure is + In converse, either starv'd by cold reserve, + Or flush'd with fierce dispute, a senseless brawl-- + Yet being free, I love thee; for the sake + Of that one feature can be well content, + Disgrac'd as thou hast been, poor as thou art, + To seek no sublunary rest beside. + But, once enslav'd, farewell! I could endure + Chains nowhere patiently; and chains at home, + Where I am free by birthright, not at all. + Then what were left of roughness in the grain + Of British natures, wanting its excuse + That it belongs to freemen, would disgust + And shock me. I should then with double pain + Feel all the rigour of thy fickle clime; + And, if I must bewail the blessing lost, + For which our Hampdens and our Sydneys bled, + I would at least bewail it under skies + Milder, among a people less austere; + In scenes, which, having never known me free, + Would not reproach me with the loss I felt. + Do I forebode impossible events, + And tremble at vain dreams? Heaven grant I may! + But the age of virtuous politics is past, + And we are deep in that of cold pretence. + Patriots are grown too shrewd to be sincere, + And we too wise to trust them. He that takes + Deep in his soft credulity the stamp + Design'd by loud declaimers on the part + Of liberty, themselves the slaves of lust, + Incurs derision for his easy faith, + And lack of knowledge, and with cause enough: + For when was public virtue to be found, + Where private was not? Can he love the whole, + Who loves no part? He be a nation's friend, + Who is in truth the friend of no man there? + Can he be strenuous in his country's cause, + Who slights the charities, for whose dear sake + That country, if at all, must be beloved? + + Cowper. + + + +[Notes: _Hampden_--_Sydney_. (See previous note on them) + + +_He that takes deep in his soft credulity, &c., i.e.,_ he that +credulously takes in the impression which demagogues, who claim to speak +on behalf of liberty, intend that he should take. + + +_Delude_. A violent torrent, displacing earth in its course. + +_Strid_. A yawning chasm between rocks. + +_The Battle of Culloden_ (1746) closed the Jacobite rebellion of 1745 by +the defeat of the Highlanders, and with it the last hopes of the Stuart +cause. The Duke of Cumberland was the leader of the Hanoverian army.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +MY WINTER GARDEN. + +No one is less inclined to depreciate that magnificent winter-garden +at the Crystal Palace: yet let me, if I choose, prefer my own; I argue +that, in the first place, it is far larger. You may drive, I hear, +through the grand one at Chatsworth for a quarter of a mile. You may +ride through mine for fifteen miles on end. I prefer, too, to any glass +roof which Sir Joseph Paxton ever planned, that dome above my head some +three miles high, of soft dappled grey and yellow cloud, through the +vast lattice-work whereof the blue sky peeps, and sheds down tender +gleams on yellow bogs, and softly rounded heather knolls, and pale chalk +ranges gleaming far away. But, above all, I glory in my evergreens. What +winter-garden can compare for them with mine? True, I have but four +kinds--Scotch fir, holly, furze, and the heath; and by way of relief to +them, only brows of brown fern, sheets of yellow bog-grass, and here and +there a leafless birch, whose purple tresses are even more lovely to my +eye than those fragrant green ones which she puts on in spring. Well: in +painting as in music, what effects are more grand than those produced +by the scientific combination, in endless new variety, of a few simple +elements? Enough for me is the one purple birch; the bright hollies +round its stem sparkling with scarlet beads; the furze-patch, rich with +its lacework of interwoven light and shade, tipped here and there with a +golden bud; the deep soft heather carpet, which invites you to lie down +and dream for hours; and behind all, the wall of red fir-stems, and the +dark fir-roof with its jagged edges a mile long, against the soft grey +sky. + +An ugly, straight-edged, monotonous fir-plantation? Well, I like it, +outside and inside. I need no saw-edge of mountain peaks to stir up +my imagination with the sense of the sublime, while I can watch the +saw-edge of those fir peaks against the red sunset. They are my Alps; +little ones, it may be: but after all, as I asked before, what is size? +A phantom of our brain; an optical delusion. Grandeur, if you will +consider wisely, consists in form, and not in size: and to the eye of +the philosopher, the curve drawn on a paper two inches long, is just as +magnificent, just as symbolic of divine mysteries and melodies, as when +embodied in the span of some cathedral roof. Have you eyes to see? Then +lie down on the grass, and look near enough to see something more of +what is to be seen; and you will find tropic jungles in every square +foot of turf; mountain cliffs and debacles at the mouth of every rabbit +burrow: dark strids, tremendous cataracts, "deep glooms and sudden +glories," in every foot-broad rill which wanders through the turf. All +is there for you to see, if you will but rid yourself of "that idol of +space;" and Nature, as everyone will tell you who has seen dissected an +insect under the microscope, is as grand and graceful in her smallest as +in her hugest forms. + +The March breeze is chilly: but I can be always warm if I like in my +winter-garden. I turn my horse's head to the red wall of fir-stems, and +leap over the furze-grown bank into my cathedral, wherein if there be +no saints, there are likewise no priestcraft and no idols; but endless +vistas of smooth red green-veined shafts holding up the warm dark roof, +lessening away into endless gloom, paved with rich brown fir-needle--a +carpet at which Nature has been at work for forty years. Red shafts, +green roof, and here and there a pane of blue sky--neither Owen Jones +nor Willement can improve upon that ecclesiastical ornamentation,--while +for incense I have the fresh healthy turpentine fragrance, far sweeter +to my nostrils than the stifling narcotic odour which fills a Roman +Catholic cathedral. There is not a breath of air within: but the breeze +sighs over the roof above in a soft whisper. I shut my eyes and listen. +Surely that is the murmur of the summer sea upon the summer sands in +Devon far away. I hear the innumerable wavelets spend themselves gently +upon the shore, and die away to rise again. And with the innumerable +wave-sighs come innumerable memories, and faces which I shall never see +again upon this earth. I will not tell even you of that, old friend. It +has two notes, two keys rather, that Eolian-harp of fir-needles above +my head; according as the wind is east or west, the needles dry or wet. +This easterly key of to-day is shriller, more cheerful, warmer in sound, +though the day itself be colder: but grander still, as well as softer, +is the sad soughing key in which the south-west wind roars on, +rain-laden, over the forest, and calls me forth--being a minute +philosopher--to catch trout in the nearest chalk-stream. + +The breeze is gone a while; and I am in perfect silence--a silence which +may be heard. Not a sound; and not a moving object; absolutely none. The +absence of animal life is solemn, startling. That ring-dove, who was +cooing half a mile away, has hushed his moan; that flock of long-tailed +titmice, which were twinging and pecking about the fir-cones a few +minutes since, are gone: and now there is not even a gnat to quiver in +the slant sun-rays. Did a spider run over these dead leaves, I almost +fancy I could hear his footfall. The creaking of the saddle, the soft +step of the mare upon the fir-needles, jar my ears. I seem alone in a +dead world. A dead world: and yet so full of life, if I had eyes to +see! Above my head every fir-needle is breathing--breathing for +ever; currents unnumbered circulate in every bough, quickened by some +undiscovered miracle; around me every fir-stem is distilling strange +juices, which no laboratory of man can make; and where my dull eye sees +only death, the eye of God sees boundless life and motion, health and +use. + + CHARLES KINGSLEY. + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +ASPECTS OF NORTHERN AND SOUTHERN COUNTRIES. + +The charts of the world which have been drawn up by modern science have +thrown into a narrow space the expression of a vast amount of knowledge, +but I have never yet seen any pictorial enough to enable the spectator +to imagine the kind of contrast in physical character which exists +between northern and southern countries. We know the differences in +detail, but we have not that broad glance or grasp which would enable us +to feel them in their fulness. We know that gentians grow on the Alps, +and olives on the Apennines; but we do not enough conceive for ourselves +that variegated mosaic of the world's surface which a bird sees in its +migration, that difference between the district of the gentian and of +the olive which the stork and the swallow see far off, as they lean upon +the sirocco wind. Let us, for a moment, try to raise ourselves even +above the level of their flight, and imagine the Mediterranean lying +beneath us like an irregular lake, and all its ancient promontories +sleeping in the sun; here and there an angry spot of thunder, a grey +stain of storm, moving upon the burning field; and here and there a +fixed wreath of white volcano smoke, surrounded by its circle of ashes; +but for the most part a great peacefulness of light, Syria and Greece, +Italy and Spain, laid like pieces of a golden pavement into the +sea-blue, chased, as we stoop nearer to them, with bossy beaten work of +mountain chains, and glowing softly with terraced gardens, and flowers +heavy with frankincense, mixed among masses of laurel and orange, and +plumy palm, that abate with their grey-green shadows the burning of the +marble rocks, and of the ledges of the porphyry sloping under lucent +sand. Then let us pass farther towards the north, until we see the +orient colours change gradually into a vast belt of rainy green, where +the pastures of Switzerland, and poplar valleys of France, and dark +forests of the Danube and Carpathians stretch from the mouths of the +Loire to those of the Volga, seen through clefts in grey swirls of +rain-cloud and flaky veils of the mist of the brooks, spreading low +along the pasture lands; and then, farther north still, to see the earth +heave into mighty masses of leaden rock and heathy moor, bordering +with a broad waste of gloomy purple that belt of field and wood, and +splintering into irregular and grisly islands amidst the northern seas +beaten by storm, and chilled by ice-drift, and tormented by furious +pulses of contending tide, until the roots of the last forests fail from +among the hill ravines, and the hunger of the north wind bites their +peaks into barrenness; and, at last, the wall of ice, durable like iron, +sets, death-like, its white teeth against us out of the polar twilight. +And, having once traversed in thought this gradation of the zoned iris +of the earth in all its material vastness, let us go down nearer to it, +and watch the parallel change in the belt of animal life: the multitudes +of swift and brilliant creatures that glance in the air and sea, or +tread the sands of the southern zone; striped zebras and spotted +leopards, glistening serpents, and birds arrayed in purple and scarlet. +Let us contrast their delicacy and brilliancy of colour, and swiftness +of motion, with the frost-cramped strength, and shaggy covering, and +dusky plumage of the northern tribes; contrast the Arabian horse with +the Shetland, the tiger and leopard with the wolf and bear, the +antelope with the elk, the bird of Paradise with the osprey; and then, +submissively acknowledging the great laws by which the earth and all +that it bears are ruled throughout their being, let us not condemn, but +rejoice in the expression by man of his own rest in the statues of the +lands that gave him birth. Let us watch him with reverence as he sets +side by side the burning gems, and smooths with soft sculpture the +jasper pillars that are to reflect a ceaseless sunshine, and rise into +a cloudless sky; but not with less reverence let us stand by him, when, +with rough strength and hurried stroke, he smites an uncouth animation +out of the rocks which he has torn from among the moss of the moor-land, +and heaves into the darkened air the pile of iron buttress and rugged +wall, instinct with work of an imagination as wild and wayward as the +northern sea; creations of ungainly shape and rigid limb, but full of +wolfish life; fierce as the winds that beat, and changeful as the clouds +that shade them. + + JOHN RUSKIN. + + + + + * * * * * + + + + + THE TROSACHS. + + + The western waves of ebbing day + Rolled o'er the glen their level way; + Each purple peak, each flinty spire, + Was bathed in floods of living fire. + But not a setting beam could glow + Within the dark ravines below, + Where twined the path, in shadow hid, + Bound many a rocky pyramid, + Shooting abruptly from the dell + Its thunder-splintered pinnacle; + Bound many an insulated mass, + The native bulwarks of the pass, + Huge as the tower which builders vain + Presumptuous piled on Shinar's plain. + The rocky summits, split and rent, + Formed turret, dome, or battlement. + Or seemed fantastically set + With cupola or minaret, + Wild crests as pagod ever decked, + Or mosque of eastern architect. + Nor were these earth-born castles bare, + Nor lacked they many a banner fair; + For, from their shivered brows displayed, + Far o'er the unfathomable glade, + All twinkling with the dew-drop's sheen, + The briar-rose fell in streamers green, + And creeping shrubs, of thousand dyes, + Waved in the west wind's summer sighs. + + Boon nature scattered, free and wild, + Each plant or flower, the mountain's child. + Here eglantine embalmed the air, + Hawthorn and hazel mingled there; + The primrose pale and violet flower, + Found in each cliff a narrow bower; + Foxglove and nightshade, side by side, + Emblems of punishment and pride, + Grouped their dark hues with every stain, + The weather-beaten crags retain. + With boughs that quaked at every breath, + Grey birch and aspen wept beneath; + Aloft the ash and warrior oak + Cast anchor in the rifted rock; + And higher yet the pine tree hung + His shatter'd trunk, and frequent flung, + Where seemed the cliffs to meet on high, + His boughs athwart the narrowed sky + Highest of all, where white peaks glanced, + Where glistening streamers waved and danced, + The wanderer's eye could barely view + The summer heaven's delicious blue; + So wondrous wild, the whole might seem + The scenery of a fairy dream. + Onward, amid the copse 'gan peep + A narrow inlet still and deep, + Affording scarce such breadth of brim, + As served the wild duck's brood to swim; + Lost for a space, through thickets veering, + But broader when again appearing, + Tall rocks and tufted knolls their face + Could on the dark blue mirror trace; + And farther as the hunter stray'd, + Still broader sweep its channels made. + The shaggy mounds no longer stood, + Emerging from entangled wood, + But, wave-encircled, seemed to float, + Like castle girdled with its moat; + Yet broader floods extending still, + Divide them from their parent hill, + Till each, retiring, claims to be + An islet in an inland sea. + + And now, to issue from the glen, + No pathway meets the wanderer's ken, + Unless he climb, with footing nice, + A far projecting precipice. + The broom's tough roots his ladder made, + The hazel saplings lent their aid; + And thus an airy point he won. + Where, gleaming with the setting sun, + One burnish'd sheet of living gold, + Loch-Katrine lay beneath him rolled; + In all her length far winding lay, + With promontory, creek, and bay, + And islands that, empurpled bright, + Floated amid the livelier light; + And mountains, that like giants stand, + To sentinel enchanted land. + High on the south, huge Benvenue + Down to the lake in masses threw + Crags, knolls, and mounds, confusedly hurled, + The fragments of an earlier world; + A wildering forest feathered o'er + His ruined sides and summit hoar. + While on the north, through middle air, + Ben-an heaved high his forehead bare. + + SCOTT. + + + + + * * * * * + + + + + LOCHIEL'S WARNING. + + + _Seer_. Lochiel! Lochiel! beware of the day + When the Lowlands shall meet thee in battle array! + For a field of the dead rushes red on my sight, + And the clans of Culloden are scattered in fight; + They rally, they bleed, for their kingdom and crown; + Wo, wo to the riders that trample them down! + Proud Cumberland prances, insulting the slain, + And their hoof-beaten bosoms are trod to the plain. + But hark! through the fast-flashing lightning of war, + What steed to the desert flies frantic and far? + 'Tis thine, O Glenullin! whose bride shall await, + Like a love-lighted watchfire, all night at the gate. + A steed comes at morning; no rider is there; + But its bridle is red with the sign of despair. + Weep, Albyn, to death and captivity led! + O weep, but thy tears cannot number the dead; + For a merciless sword on Culloden shall wave, + Culloden! that reeks with the blood of the brave. + + _Lochiel_. Go preach to the coward, thou death- + telling seer! + Or, if gory Culloden so dreadful appear, + Draw, dotard, around thy old wavering sight + This mantle, to cover the phantoms of fright. + + _Seer_. Ha! laugh'st thou, Lochiel, my vision to + scorn? + Proud bird of the mountain, thy plume shall be torn! + Say, rushed the bold eagle exultingly forth + From his home, in the dark-rolling clouds of the north? + Lo! the death-shot of foemen outspeeding, he rode + Companionless, bearing destruction abroad; + But down let him stoop from his havoc on high! + Ah! home let him speed, for the spoiler is nigh. + Why flames the far summit? Why shoot to the blast + Those embers, like stars from the firmament cast? + 'Tis the fire shower of ruin, all dreadfully driven + From his eyrie that beacons the darkness of heaven. + Oh, crested Lochiel! the peerless in might, + Whose banners arise on the battlements' height, + Heaven's fire is around thee, to blast and to burn: + Return to thy dwelling! all lonely return! + For the blackness of ashes shall mark where it stood, + And a wild mother scream o'er her famishing brood. + + _Lochiel_. False wizard, avaunt! I have marshalled my + clan-- + Their swords are a thousand, their bosoms are one! + They are true to the last of their blood and their + breath, + And like reapers descend to the harvest of death. + Then welcome be Cumberland's steed to the shock! + Let him dash his proud foam like a wave on the rock! + But we to his kindred, and we to his cause, + When Albyn her claymore indignantly draws; + When her bonneted chieftains to victory crowd, + Clanranald the dauntless, and Moray the proud; + All plaided and plumed in their tartan array---- + + _Seer_.----Lochiel! Lochiel! beware of the day! + For, dark and despairing, my sight I may seal, + But man cannot cover what God would reveal. + 'Tis the sunset of life gives me mystical lore, + And coming events cast their shadows before. + I tell thee, Culloden's dread echoes shall ring, + With the bloodhounds that bark for thy fugitive king. + Lo! anointed by heaven with the vials of wrath, + Behold, where he flies on his desolate path! + Now in darkness and billows he sweeps from my sight; + Rise! rise! ye wild tempests, and cover his flight!-- + 'Tis finished. Their thunders are hushed on the moors; + Culloden is lost, and my country deplores. + But where is the iron-bound prisoner? Where? + For the red eye of battle is shut in despair. + Say, mounts he the ocean-wave, banished, forlorn, + Like a limb from his country cast bleeding and torn? + Ah, no! for a darker departure is near,-- + The war drum is muffled, and black is the bier; + His death bell is tolling! Oh, mercy! dispel + Yon sight that it freezes my spirit to tell! + Life flutters convulsed in his quivering limbs, + And his blood-streaming nostril in agony swims; + Accursed be the faggots that blaze at his feet, + Where his heart shall be thrown, ere it ceases to beat, + With the smoke of its ashes to poison the gale---- + + _Lochiel_. Down, soothless insulter! I trust not the + tale: + For never shall Albyn a destiny meet + So black with dishonour, so foul with retreat. + Though my perishing ranks should be strewed in their + gore, + Like ocean weeds heaped on the surf-beaten shore, + Lochiel, untainted by flight or by chains, + While the kindling of life in his bosom remains, + Shall victor exult, or in death be laid low, + With his back to the field, and his feet to the foe! + And leaving in battle no blot on his name, + Look proudly to heaven from the death-bed of fame. + + CAMPBELL. + + + +[Note: _Life flutters convulsed &c._ Describes the barbarous death which +awaited the traitor according to the statute book of England, as it then +stood. This was the penalty dealt to the rebels of 1745.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +COLUMBUS IN SIGHT OF LAND. + +For three days they stood in this direction, and the further they went +the more frequent and encouraging were the signs of land. Flights of +small birds of various colours, some of them such as sing in the fields, +came flying about the ships, and then continued towards the south-west, +and others were heard also flying by in the night. Tunny fish played +about the smooth sea, and a heron, a pelican, and a duck, were seen, all +bound in the same direction. The herbage which floated by was fresh and +green, as if recently from land, and the air, Columbus observes, was +sweet and fragrant as April breezes in Seville. + +All these, however, were regarded by the crews as so many delusions +beguiling them on to destruction; and when, on the evening of the third +day, they beheld the sun go down upon a shoreless horizon, they broke +forth into turbulent clamour. They exclaimed against this obstinacy in +tempting fate by continuing on into a boundless sea. They insisted +upon turning home, and abandoning the voyage as hopeless. Columbus +endeavoured to pacify them by gentle words and promises of large +rewards; but finding that they only increased in clamour, he assumed a +decided tone. He told them it was useless to murmur; the expedition had +been sent by the sovereigns to seek the Indies, and, happen what might, +he was determined to persevere, until, by the blessing of God, he should +accomplish the enterprise. + +Columbus was now at open defiance with his crew, and his situation +became desperate. Fortunately the manifestations of the vicinity of land +were such on the following day as no longer to admit a doubt. Beside a +quantity of fresh weeds, such as grow in rivers, they saw a green fish +of a kind which keeps about rocks; then a branch of thorn with berries +on it, and recently separated from the tree, floated by them; then they +picked up a reed, a small board, and, above all, a staff artificially +carved. All gloom and mutiny now gave way to sanguine expectation; and +throughout the day each one was eagerly on the watch, in hopes of being +the first to discover the long-sought-for land. + +In the evening, when, according to invariable custom on board of the +admiral's ship, the mariners had sung the vesper hymn to the Virgin, he +made an impressive address to his crew. He pointed out the goodness +of God in thus conducting them by soft and favouring breezes across +a tranquil ocean, cheering their hopes continually with fresh signs, +increasing as their fears augmented, and thus leading and guiding them +to a promised land. He now reminded them of the orders he had given +on leaving the Canaries, that, after sailing westward seven hundred +leagues, they should not make sail after midnight. Present appearances +authorized such a precaution. He thought it probable they would make +land that very night; he ordered, therefore, a vigilant look-out to +be kept from the forecastle, promising to whomsoever should make the +discovery a doublet of velvet, in addition to the pension to be given by +the sovereigns. + +The breeze had been fresh all day, with more sea than usual, and they +had made great progress. At sunset they had stood again to the west, and +were ploughing the waves at a rapid rate, the Pinta keeping the lead +from her superior sailing. The greatest animation prevailed throughout +the ships; not an eye was closed that night. As the evening darkened, +Columbus took his station on the top of the castle or cabin on the +high poop of his vessel, ranging his eye along the dusky horizon, and +maintaining an intense and unremitting watch. About ten o'clock he +thought he beheld a light glimmering at a great distance. Fearing his +eager hopes might deceive him, he called to Pedro Gutierrez, gentleman +of the king's bedchamber, and inquired whether he saw such a light: the +latter replied in the affirmative. Doubtful whether it might not be some +delusion of the fancy, Columbus called Rodrigo Sanchez of Segovia, +and made the same inquiry. By the time the latter had ascended the +round-house, the light had disappeared. They saw it once or twice +afterwards in sudden and passing gleams, as if it were a torch in the +bark of a fisherman, rising and sinking with the waves, or in the hand +of some person on shore, borne up and down as he walked from house to +house. So transient and uncertain were these gleams, that few attached +any importance to them; Columbus, however, considered them as certain +signs of land, and, moreover, that the land was inhabited. + +They continued their course until two in the morning, when a gun from +the Pinta gave the joyful signal of land. It was first descried by a +mariner named Rodrigo de Triana; but the reward was afterwards adjudged +to the admiral, for having previously perceived the light. The land was +now clearly seen about two leagues distant, whereupon they took in sail, +and laid to, waiting impatiently for the dawn. + +The thoughts and feelings of Columbus in this little space of time +must have been tumultuous and intense. At length, in spite of every +difficulty and danger, he had accomplished his object. The great mystery +of the ocean was revealed; his theory, which had been the scoff of +sages, was triumphantly established; he had secured to himself a glory +durable as the world itself. + +It is difficult to conceive the feelings of such a man, at such a +moment, or the conjectures which must have thronged upon his mind, as +to the land before him, covered with darkness. That it was fruitful was +evident from the vegetables which floated from its shores. He thought, +too, that he perceived the fragrance of aromatic groves. The moving +light he had beheld proved it the residence of man. But what were its +inhabitants? Were they like those of the other parts of the globe, or +were they some strange and monstrous race, such as the imagination was +prone in those times to give to all remote and unknown regions? Had he +come upon some wild island far in the Indian Sea, or was this the +famed Cipango itself, the object of his golden fancies? A thousand +speculations of the kind must have swarmed upon him, as, with his +anxious crews, he waited for the night to pass away; wondering whether +the morning light would reveal a savage wilderness, or dawn upon spicy +groves, and glittering fanes, and gilded cities, and all the splendour +of oriental civilization. + +It was on Friday morning, the 12th of October, that Columbus first +beheld the New World. As the day dawned he saw before him a level +island, several leagues in extent, and covered with trees like a +continual orchard. Though apparently uncultivated, it was populous, +for the inhabitants were seen issuing from all parts of the woods and +running to the shore. They were perfectly naked, and, as they stood +gazing at the ships, appeared by their attitudes and gestures to be lost +in astonishment. Columbus made signal for the ships to cast anchor, +and the boats to be manned and armed. He entered his own boat, richly +attired in scarlet, and holding the royal standard; whilst Martin Alonzo +Pinzon, and Vincent Yañez his brother, put off in company in their +boats, each with a banner of the enterprize emblazoned with a green +cross, having on either side the letters F. and Y., the initials of the +Castilian monarchs Fernando and Ysabel, surmounted by crowns. + +As he approached the shore, Columbus, who was disposed for all kinds of +agreeable impressions, was delighted with the purity and suavity of the +atmosphere, the crystal transparency of the sea, and the extraordinary +beauty of the vegetation. He beheld, also, fruits of an unknown kind +upon the trees which overhung the shores. On landing he threw himself on +his knees, kissed the earth, and returned thanks to God with tears +of joy. His example was followed by the rest, whose hearts indeed +overflowed with the same feelings of gratitude, Columbus then rising, +drew his sword, displayed the royal standard, and assembling round him +the two captains, with Rodrigo de Escobedo, notary of the armament, +Rodrigo Sanchez, and the rest who had landed, he took solemn possession +in the name of the Castilian sovereigns, giving the island the name of +San Salvador. Having complied with the requisite forms and ceremonies, +he called upon all present to take the oath of obedience to him, as +admiral and viceroy, representing the persons of the sovereigns. + +The feelings of the crew now burst forth in the most extravagant +transports. They had recently considered themselves devoted men, +hurrying forward to destruction; they now looked upon themselves as +favourites of fortune, and gave themselves up to the most unbounded joy. +They thronged around the admiral with overflowing zeal, some embracing +him, others kissing his hands. Those who had been most mutinous and +turbulent during the voyage, were now most devoted and enthusiastic. +Some begged favours of him, as if he had already wealth and honours in +his gift. Many abject spirits, who had outraged him by their insolence, +now crouched at his feet, begging pardon for all the trouble they had +caused him, and promising the blindest obedience for the future. + + WASHINGTON IRVING. + + + +[Notes: _Columbus_. Christopher Columbus of Genoa (born 1430, died +1506), the discoverer of America. His first expedition was made in 1492. + + +"_The reward was afterwards adjudged to the admiral_." This has often +been alleged, and apparently with considerable reason, as a stain upon +the name of Columbus.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +COLUMBUS SHIPWRECKED. + + +On the morning of the 24th of December, Columbus set sail from Port St. +Thomas before sunrise, and steered to the eastward, with an intention of +anchoring at the harbour of the cacique Guacanagari. The wind was from +the land, but so light as scarcely to fill the sails, and the ships made +but little progress. At eleven o'clock at night, being Christmas eve, +they were within a league or a league and a half of the residence of the +cacique; and Columbus, who had hitherto kept watch, finding the sea calm +and smooth, and the ship almost motionless, retired to rest, not having +slept the preceding night. He was, in general, extremely wakeful on his +coasting voyages, passing whole nights upon deck in all weathers; never +trusting to the watchfulness of others where there was any difficulty or +danger to be provided against. In the present instance he felt perfectly +secure; not merely on account of profound calm, but because the boats on +the preceding day, in their visit to the cacique, had reconnoitred the +coast, and had reported that there were neither rocks nor shoals in +their course. + +No sooner had he retired, than the steersman gave the helm in charge to +one of the ship-boys, and went to sleep. This was in direct violation +of an invariable order of the admiral, that the helm should never be +intrusted to the boys. The rest of the mariners who had the watch took +like advantage of the absence of Columbus, and in a little while +the whole crew was buried in sleep. In the meantime the treacherous +currents, which run swiftly along this coast, carried the vessel +quietly, but with force, upon a sand-bank. The heedless boy had not +noticed the breakers, although they made a roaring that might have been +heard a league. No sooner, however, did he feel the rudder strike, +and hear the tumult of the rushing sea, than he began to cry for +aid. Columbus, whose careful thoughts never permitted him to sleep +profoundly, was the first on deck. The master of the ship, whose duty it +was to have been on watch, next made his appearance, followed by others +of the crew, half awake. The admiral ordered them to take the boat and +carry out an anchor astern, to warp the vessel off. The master and the +sailors sprang into the boat; but, confused as men are apt to be when +suddenly awakened by an alarm, instead of obeying the commands of +Columbus, they rowed off to the other caravel, about half a league to +windward. + +In the meantime the master had reached the caravel, and made known the +perilous state in which he had left the vessel. He was reproached with +his pusillanimous desertion; the commander of the caravel manned his +boat and hastened to the relief of the admiral, followed by the recreant +master, covered with shame and confusion. + +It was too late to save the ship, the current having set her more upon +the bank. The admiral, seeing that his boat had deserted him, that the +ship had swung across the stream, and that the water was continually +gaining upon her, ordered the mast to be cut away, in the hope of +lightening her sufficiently to float her off. Every effort was in vain. +The keel was firmly bedded in the sand; the shock had opened several +seams; while the swell of the breakers, striking her broadside, left +her each moment more and more aground, until she fell over on one side. +Fortunately the weather continued calm, otherwise the ship must have +gone to pieces, and the whole crew might have perished amidst the +currents and breakers. + +The admiral and her men took refuge on board the caravel. Diego de +Arana, chief judge of the armament, and Pedro Gutierrez, the king's +butler, were immediately sent on shore as envoys to the cacique +Guaeanagari, to inform him of the intended visit of the admiral, and of +his disastrous shipwreck. In the meantime, as a light wind had sprung up +from shore, and the admiral was ignorant of his situation, and of the +rocks and banks that might be lurking around him, he lay to until +daylight. + +The habitation of the cacique was about a league and a half from the +wreck. When he heard of the misfortune of his guest, he manifested the +utmost affliction, and even shed tears. He immediately sent all his +people, with all the canoes, large and small, that could be mustered; +and so active were they in their assistance, that in a little while +the vessel was unloaded. The cacique himself, and his brothers and +relatives, rendered all the aid in their power, both on sea and land; +keeping vigilant guard that everything should be conducted with order, +and the property secured from injury or theft. From time to time, he +sent some one of his family, or some principal person of his attendants, +to console and cheer the admiral, assuring him that everything he +possessed should be at his disposal. + +Never, in a civilized country, were the vaunted rites of hospitality +more scrupulously observed, than by this uncultivated savage. All the +effects landed from the ships were deposited near his dwelling; and an +armed guard surrounded them all night, until houses could be prepared +in which to store them. There seemed, however, even among the common +people, no disposition to take advantage of the misfortune of the +stranger. Although they beheld what must in their eyes have been +inestimable treasures, cast, as it were, upon their shores, and open +to depredation, yet there was not the least attempt to pilfer, nor, in +transporting the effects from the ships, had they appropriated the most +trifling article. On the contrary, a general sympathy was visible in +their countenances and actions; and to have witnessed their concern, one +would have supposed the misfortune to have happened to themselves. + +"So loving, so tractable, so peaceable are these people," says Columbus +in his journal, "that I swear to your Majesties, there is not in the +world a better nation, nor a better land. They love their neighbours +as themselves; and their discourse is ever sweet and gentle, and +accompanied with a smile; and though it is true that they are naked, yet +their manners are decorous and praiseworthy." + + WASHINGTON IRVING. + + + +[Note: _Cacique_. The chief of an Indian tribe. The word was adopted by +the Spaniards from the language of the natives of San Domingo. + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +ROBBED IN THE DESERT. + + +I departed from Kooma, accompanied by two shepherds, who were going +towards Sibidooloo. The road was very steep and rocky, and as my horse +had hurt his feet much, he travelled slowly and with great difficulty; +for in many places the ascent was so sharp, and the declivities so +great, that if he had made one false step, he must inevitably have been +dashed to pieces. The herds being anxious to proceed, gave themselves +little trouble about me or my horse, and kept walking on at a +considerable distance. It was about eleven o'clock, as I stopped to +drink a little water at a rivulet (my companions being near a quarter of +a mile before me), that I heard some people calling to each other, +and presently a loud screaming, as from a person in great distress. I +immediately conjectured that a lion had taken one of the shepherds, and +mounted my horse to have a better view of what had happened. The noise, +however, ceased; and I rode slowly towards the place from whence I +thought it proceeded, calling out, but without receiving any answer. In +a little time, however, I perceived one of the shepherds lying among the +long grass near the road; and, though I could see no blood upon him, +concluded he was dead. But when I came close to him, he whispered to +me to stop, telling me that a party of armed men had seized upon his +companion, and shot two arrows at himself as he was making his escape. +I stopped to consider what course to take, and looking round, saw at a +little distance a man sitting upon the stump of a tree; I distinguished +also the heads of six or seven more; sitting among the grass, with +muskets in their hands. I had now no hopes of escaping, and therefore +determined to ride forward towards them. As I approached them, I was +in hopes they were elephant hunters, and by way of opening the +conversation, inquired if they had shot anything; but, without returning +an answer, one of them ordered me to dismount; and then, as if +recollecting himself, waved with his hand for me to proceed. I +accordingly rode past, and had with some difficulty crossed a deep +rivulet, when I heard somebody holloa; and looking back, saw those I +took for elephant hunters now running after me, and calling out to me to +turn back. I stopped until they were all come up, when they informed me +that the King of the Foulahs had sent them on purpose to bring me, +my horse, and everything that belonged to me, to Fooladoo, and that +therefore I must turn back, and go along with them. Without hesitating a +moment, I turned round and followed them, and we travelled together near +a quarter of a mile without exchanging a word. When coming to a dark +place of the wood, one of them said, in the Mandingo language, "This +place will do," and immediately snatched my hat from my head. Though +I was by no means free of apprehension, yet I resolved to show as few +signs of fear as possible; and therefore told them, unless my hat was +returned to me, I should go no farther. But before I had time to receive +an answer, another drew his knife, and seizing upon a metal button which +remained upon my waistcoat, cut it off, and put it in his pocket. Their +intention was now obvious, and I thought that the more easily they were +permitted to rob me of everything, the less I had to fear. I therefore +allowed them to search my pockets without resistance, and examine every +part of my apparel, which they did with scrupulous exactness. But +observing that I had one waistcoat under another, they insisted that I +should cast them both off; and at last, to make sure work, stripped me +quite naked. Even my half-boots (though the sole of one of them was tied +to my foot with a broken bridle-rein) were narrowly inspected. Whilst +they were examining the plunder, I begged them with great earnestness to +return my pocket compass; but when I pointed it out to them, as it was +lying on the ground, one of the banditti thinking I was about to take it +up, cocked his musket, and swore that he would lay me dead on the spot +if I presumed to lay my hand on it. After this some of them went away +with my horse, and the remainder stood considering whether they should +leave me quite naked, or allow me something to shelter me from the sun. +Humanity at last prevailed; they returned me the worst of the two shirts +and a pair of trowsers; and, as they went away, one of them threw back +my hat, in the crown of which I kept my memorandums; and this was +probably the reason they did not wish to keep it. After they were +gone, I sat for some time looking around me with amazement and terror; +whichever way I turned, nothing appeared but danger and difficulty. I +saw myself in the midst of a vast wilderness in the depth of the rainy +season, naked and alone, surrounded by savage animals, and men still +more savage. I was five hundred miles from the nearest European +settlement. All these circumstances crowded at once to my recollection; +and I confess that my spirits began to fail me. I considered my fate as +certain, and that I had no alternative but to lie down and perish. At +this moment, painful as my reflections were, the extraordinary beauty +of a small moss irresistibly caught my eye. I mention this to show from +what trifling circumstances the mind will sometimes derive consolation; +for though the whole plant was not larger than the tip of one of my +fingers, I could not contemplate the delicate conformation of its roots, +leaves, and capsule without admiration. Can that Being (thought I), who +planted, watered, and brought to perfection, in this obscure part of the +world, a thing which appears of so small importance, look with unconcern +upon the situation and sufferings of creatures formed after his own +image?--surely not! Reflections like these would not allow me to +despair; I started up, and disregarding both hunger and fatigue, +travelled forwards, assured that relief was at hand; and I was not +disappointed. In a short time I came to a small village, at the entrance +of which I overtook the two shepherds who had come with me from Rooma. +They were much surprised to see me, for they said they never doubted +that the Foulahs, when they had robbed, had murdered me. Departing from +this village, we travelled over several rocky ridges, and at sunset +arrived at Sibidooloo, the frontier town of the kingdom of Manding. + + MUNGO PARK. + + + +[Note: _Mungo Park_. Born in Selkirkshire in 1771; set out on his first +African exploration in 1795. His object was to explore the Niger; and +this he had done to a great extent when he was murdered (as is supposed) +by the natives in 1805.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + + REST FROM BATTLE. + + + Now deep in ocean sunk the lamp of light, + And drew behind the cloudy veil of night; + The conquering Trojans mourn his beams decayed; + The Greeks rejoicing bless the friendly shade. + The victors keep the field: and Hector calls + A martial council near the navy walls: + These to Scamander's bank apart he led, + Where thinly scattered lay the heaps of dead. + The assembled chiefs, descending on the ground, + Attend his order, and their prince surround. + A massy spear he bore of mighty strength, + Of full ten cubits was the lance's length; + The point was brass, refulgent to behold, + Fixed to the wood with circling rings of gold: + The noble Hector on his lance reclined, + And bending forward, thus revealed his mind: + "Ye valiant Trojans, with attention hear! + Ye Dardan bands, and generous aids, give ear! + This day, we hoped, would wrap in conquering flame + Greece with her ships, and crown our toils with fame. + But darkness now, to save the cowards, falls, + And guards them trembling in their wooden walls. + Obey the night, and use her peaceful hours, + Our steeds to forage, and refresh our powers. + Straight from the town be sheep and oxen sought, + And strengthening bread and generous wine be brought. + Wide o'er the field, high blazing to the sky, + Let numerous fires the absent sun supply, + The flaming piles with plenteous fuel raise, + Till the bright morn her purple beam displays; + Lest, in the silence and the shades of night, + Greece on her sable ships attempt her flight. + Not unmolested let the wretches gain + Their lofty decks, or safely cleave the main: + Some hostile wound let every dart bestow, + Some lasting token of the Phrygian foe: + Wounds, that long hence may ask their spouses' care, + And warn their children from a Trojan war. + Now, through the circuit of our Ilion wall, + Let sacred heralds sound the solemn call; + To bid the sires with hoary honours crowned, + And beardless youths, our battlements surround. + Firm be the guard, while distant lie our powers, + And let the matrons hang with lights the towers: + Lest, under covert of the midnight shade, + The insidious foe the naked town invade. + Suffice, to-night, these orders to obey; + A nobler charge shall rouse the dawning day. + The gods, I trust, shall give to Hector's hand, + From these detested foes to free the land, + Who ploughed, with fates averse, the watery way; + For Trojan vultures a predestined prey. + Our common safety must be now the care; + But soon as morning paints the fields of air, + Sheathed in bright arms let every troop engage, + And the fired fleet behold the battle rage. + Then, then shall Hector and Tydides prove, + Whose fates are heaviest in the scale of Jove. + To-morrow's light (O haste the glorious morn!) + Shall see his bloody spoils in triumph borne, + With this keen javelin shall his breast be gored, + And prostrate heroes bleed around their lord. + Certain as this, oh! might my days endure, + From age inglorious, and black death secure; + So might my life and glory know no bound, + Like Pallas worshipped, like the sun renowned! + As the next dawn, the last they shall enjoy, + Shall crush the Greeks, and end the woes of Troy." + + The leader spoke. From all his host around + Shouts of applause along the shores resound. + Each from the yoke the smoking steeds untied, + And fixed their headstalls to his chariot-side. + Fat sheep and oxen from the town are led, + With generous wine, and all-sustaining bread. + Full hecatombs lay burning on the shore; + The winds to heaven the curling vapours bore; + Ungrateful offering to the immortal powers! + Whose wrath hung heavy o'er the Trojan towers; + Nor Priam nor his sons obtained their grace; + Proud Troy they hated, and her guilty race. + The troops exulting sat in order round, + And beaming fires illumined all the ground. + As when the moon, refulgent lamp of night! + O'er heaven's clear azure spreads her sacred light, + When not a breath disturbs the deep serene, + And not a cloud o'ercasts the solemn scene; + Around her throne the vivid planets roll, + And stars unnumbered gild the glowing pole; + O'er the dark trees a yellower verdure shed, + And tip with silver every mountain's head. + Then shine the vales, the rocks in prospect rise, + A flood of glory bursts from all the skies: + The conscious swains, rejoicing in the sight, + Eye the blue vault, and bless the useful light. + So many flames before proud Ilion blaze, + And lighten glimmering Xanthus with their rays: + The long reflections of the distant fires + Gleam on the walls, and tremble on the spires. + A thousand piles the dusky horrors gild, + And shoot a shady lustre o'er the field. + Full fifty guards each flaming pile attend, + Whose umbered arms, by fits, thick flashes send, + Loud neigh the coursers o'er their heaps of corn, + And ardent warriors wait the rising morn. + + POPE. + + + +[Notes:_Rest from battle_. This is part of Pope's translation of the +Iliad of Homer (Book 8, l. 605). + + +_Stamander_. One of the rivers in the neighbourhood of Troy. + + +_Dardan bands_. Trojan lands. Dardanus was the mythical ancestor of the +Trojans. + +_Generous aids_ = allies. + + +_Tydides_--Diomede. + +_From age inglorious and black death secure_ = safe from inglorious age +and from black death. + + +_Hecatombs_. Sacrifices of 100 oxen. + + +_Ungrateful offering_ = unpleasing offering. + + +_Xanthus_. The other river in the neighbourhood of Troy. + + +_Umbered_ = thrown into shadow, and glimmering in the darkness.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +ARISTIDES. + + +Aristides at first was loved and respected for his surname of _the +Just_, and afterwards envied as much; the latter, chiefly by the +management of Themistocles, who gave it out among the people that +Aristides had abolished the courts of judicature, by drawing the +arbitration of all causes to himself, and so was insensibly gaining +sovereign power, though without guards and the other ensigns of it. The +people, elevated with the late victory at Marathon, thought themselves +capable of everything, and the highest respect little enough for them. +Uneasy, therefore, at finding any one citizen rose to such extraordinary +honour and distinction, they assembled at Athens from all the towns in +Attica, and banished Aristides by the Ostracism; disguising their +envy of his character under the specious pretence of guarding against +tyranny. + +For the _Ostracism_ was not a punishment for crimes and misdemeanours, +but was very decently called an humbling and lessening of some excessive +influence and power. In reality it was a mild gratification of envy; for +by this means, whoever was offended at the growing greatness of another, +discharged his spleen, not in anything cruel or inhuman, but only in +voting a ten years' banishment. But when it once began to fall upon +mean and profligate persons, it was for ever after entirely laid aside; +Hyperbolus being the last that was exiled by it. + +The reason of its turning upon such a wretch was this. Alcibiades and +Nicias, who were persons of the greatest interest in Athens, had each +his party; but perceiving that the people were going to proceed to +the Ostracism, and that one of them was likely to suffer by it, they +consulted together, and joining interests, caused it to fall upon +Hyperbolus. Hereupon the people, full of indignation at finding this +kind of punishment dishonoured and turned into ridicule, abolished it +entirely. + +The Ostracism (to give a summary account of it) was conducted in the +following manner. Every citizen took a piece of a broken pot, or a +shell, on which he wrote the name of the person he wanted to have +banished, and carried it to a part of the market-place that was enclosed +with wooden rails. The magistrates then counted the number of the +shells; and if it amounted not to six thousand, the Ostracism stood for +nothing: if it did, they sorted the shells, and the person whose name +was found on the greatest number, was declared an exile for ten years, +but with permission to enjoy his estate. + +At the time that Aristides was banished, when the people were inscribing +the names on the shells, it is reported that an illiterate burgher came +to Aristides, whom he took for some ordinary person, and, giving him his +shell, desired him to write Aristides upon it. The good man, surprised +at the adventure, asked him "Whether Aristides had ever injured him?" +"No," said he, "nor do I even know him; but it vexes me to hear him +everywhere called _the Just_." Aristides made no answer, but took the +shell, and having written his own name upon it, returned it to the man. +When he quitted Athens, he lifted up his hands towards heaven, and, +agreeably to his character, made a prayer, very different from that of +Achilles; namely, "That the people of Athens might never see the day +which should force them to remember Aristides." + + _Plutarch's Lives_. + + + +[Notes: _Aristides_. A prominent citizen of Athens (about the year 490 +B.C.) opposed to the more advanced policy of Themistocles, who wished to +make the city rely entirely upon her naval power. He was ostracised in +489, but afterwards restored. + + +_Marathon_. The victory gained over the Persian invaders, 490 B.C.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +THE VENERABLE BEDE. + +Baeda--the venerable Bede as later times styled him--was born about ten +years after the Synod of Whitby, beneath the shade of a great abbey +which Benedict Biscop was rearing by the mouth of the Wear. His youth +was trained and his long tranquil life was wholly spent in an offshoot +of Benedict's house which was founded by his scholar Ceolfrid. +Baeda never stirred from Jarrow. "I spent my whole life in the same +monastery," he says, "and while attentive to the rule of my order and +the service of the Church, my constant pleasure lay in learning, or +teaching, or writing." The words sketch for us a scholar's life, the +more touching in its simplicity that it is the life of the first great +English scholar. The quiet grandeur of a life consecrated to knowledge, +the tranquil pleasure that lies in learning and teaching and writing, +dawned for Englishmen in the story of Baeda. While still young, he +became teacher, and six hundred monks, besides strangers that flocked +thither for instruction, formed his school of Jarrow. It is hard to +imagine how, among the toils of the schoolmaster and the duties of the +monk, Baeda could have found time for the composition of the numerous +works that made his name famous in the West. But materials for study had +accumulated in Northumbria through the journeys of Wilfrith and Benedict +Biscop, and Archbishop Eegberht was forming the first English library at +York. The tradition of the older Irish teachers still lingered to direct +the young scholar into that path of scriptural interpretation to which +he chiefly owed his fame. Greek, a rare accomplishment in the West, +came to him from the school which the Greek Archbishop Theodore founded +beneath the walls of Canterbury. His skill in the ecclesiastical chaunt +was derived from a Roman cantor whom Pope Vilalian sent in the train of +Benedict Biscop. Little by little the young scholar thus made himself +master of the whole range of the science of his time; he became, +as Burke rightly styled him, "the father of English learning." The +tradition of the older classic culture was first revived for England +in his quotations of Plato and Aristotle, of Seneca and Cicero, of +Lucretius and Ovid. Virgil cast over him the same spell that he cast +over Dante; verses from the. Aeneid break his narratives of martyrdoms, +and the disciple ventures on the track of the great master in a little +eclogue descriptive of the approach of spring. His work was done with +small aid from others. "I am my own secretary," he writes; "I make my +own notes. I am my own librarian." But forty-five works remained after +his death to attest his prodigious industry. In his own eyes and +those of his contemporaries, the most important among these were the +commentaries and homilies upon various books of the Bible which he had +drawn from the writings of the Fathers. But he was far from confining +himself to theology. In treatises compiled as text-books for his +scholars, Baeda threw together all that the world had then accumulated +in astronomy and meteorology, in physics and music, in philosophy, +grammar, rhetoric, arithmetic, medicine. But the encyclopaedic character +of his researches left him in heart a simple Englishman. He loved his +own English tongue, he was skilled in English song, his last work was a +translation into English of the gospel of St. John, and almost the last +words that broke from his lips were some English rhymes upon death. + +But the noblest proof of his love of England lies in the work which +immortalizes his name. In his 'Ecclesiastical History of the English +Nation,' Baeda was at once the founder of medieval history and the first +English historian. All that we really know of the century and a half +that follows the landing of Augustine, we know from him. Wherever his +own personal observation extended, the story is told with admirable +detail and force. He is hardly less full or accurate in the portions +which he owed to his Kentish friends, Alewine and Nothelm. What he owed +to no informant was his own exquisite faculty of story-telling, and yet +no story of his own telling is so touching as the story of his death. +Two weeks before the Easter of 735 the old man was seized with an +extreme weakness and loss of breath. He still preserved, however, his +usual pleasantness and gay good-humour, and in spite of prolonged +sleeplessness continued his lectures to the pupils about him. Verses +of his own English tongue broke from time to time from the master's +lip--rude rhymes that told how before the "need-fare," Death's stern +"must-go," none can enough bethink him what is to be his doom for good +or ill. The tears of Baeda's scholars mingled with his song. "We never +read without weeping," writes one of then. So the days rolled on to +Ascension-tide, and still master and pupils toiled at their work, for +Baeda longed to bring to an end his version of St. John's Gospel into +the English tongue, and his extracts from Bishop Isidore. "I don't want +my boys to read a lie," he answered those who would have had him +rest, "or to work to no purpose, after I am gone." A few days before +Ascension-tide his sickness grew upon him, but he spent the whole day in +teaching, only saying cheerfully to his scholars, "Learn with what speed +you may; I know not how long I may last." The dawn broke on another +sleepless night, and again the old man called his scholars round him and +bade them write. "There is still a chapter wanting," said the scribe, as +the morning drew on, "and it is hard for thee to question thyself any +longer." "It is easily done," said Baeda; "take thy pen and write +quickly." Amid tears and farewells the day wore on to eventide. "There +is yet one sentence unwritten, dear master," said the boy. "Write it +quickly," bade the dying man. "It is finished now," said the little +scribe at last. "You speak truth," said the master; "all is finished +now." Placed upon the pavement, his head supported in his scholar's +arms, his face turned to the spot where he was wont to pray, Baeda +chaunted the solemn "Glory to God." As his voice reached the close of +his song, he passed quietly away. + + J. R. GREEN. + + + +[Note: _Baeda_. The father of literature and learning in England +(656-735 A.D.).] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +THE DEATH OF ANSELM. + + +Anselm's life was drawing to its close. The re-enactment and +confirmation by the authority of the great Whitsuntide Assembly of the +canons of the Synod of London against clerical marriage, and a dispute +with two of the Northern bishops--his old friend Ralph Flambard, and the +archbishop-elect of York, who, apparently reckoning on Anselm's age and +bad health, was scheming to evade the odious obligation of acknowledging +the paramount claims of the see of Canterbury--were all that marked the +last year of his life. A little more than a year before his own death, +he had to bury his old and faithful friend--a friend first in the +cloister of Bee, and then in the troubled days of his English +primacy--the great builder, Gundulf, Bishop of Rochester. Anselm's last +days shall be told in the words of one who had the best right to record +the end of him whom he had loved so simply and so loyally--his attendant +Eadmer. + +"During these events (of the last two years of his life) he wrote a +treatise 'Concerning the Agreement of Foreknowledge, Predestination, and +the Grace of God, with Free Will,' in which contrary to his wont, he +found difficulty in composition; for after his illness at Bury St. +Edmund's, as long as he was spared to this life, he was weaker than +before; so that, when he was moving from place to place, he was from +that time carried in a litter, instead of riding on horseback. He was +tried, also, by frequent and sharp sicknesses, so that we scarce dared +promise him life. He, however, never left off his old way of living, but +was always engaged in godly meditations, or holy exhortations, or other +good work. + +"In the third year after King Henry had recalled him from his second +banishment, every kind of food by which nature is sustained became +loathsome to him. He used to eat, however, putting force on himself, +knowing that he could not live without food; and in this way he somehow +or another dragged on life through half a year, gradually failing day by +day in body, though in vigour of mind he was still the same as he used +to be. So being strong in spirit, though but very feeble in the flesh, +he could not go to his oratory on foot; but from his strong desire to +attend the consecration of the Lord's body, which he venerated with a +special feeling of devotion, he caused himself to be carried thither +every day in a chair. We who attended on him tried to prevail on him to +desist, because it fatigued him so much; but we succeeded, and that with +difficulty, only four days before he died. + +"From that time he took to his bed? and, with gasping breath, continued +to exhort all who had the privilege of drawing near him to live to God, +each in his own order. Palm Sunday had dawned, and we, as usual, were +sitting round him; one of us said to him, 'Lord father, we are given to +understand that you are going to leave the world for your Lord's Easter +court.' He answered, 'If His will be so, I shall gladly obey His will. +But if He willed rather that I should yet remain amongst you, at least +till I have solved a question which I am turning in my mind, about the +origin of the soul, I should receive it thankfully, for I know not +whether any one will finish it after I am gone. Indeed, I hope, that if +I could take food, I might yet get well. For I feel no pain anywhere; +only, from weakness of my stomach, which cannot take food, I am failing +altogether.' + +"On the following Tuesday, towards evening, he was no longer able to +speak intelligibly. Ralph, Bishop of Rochester, asked him to bestow +his absolution and blessing on us who were present, and on his other +children, and also on the king and queen with their children, and the +people of the land who had kept themselves under God in his obedience. +He raised his right hand, as if he was suffering nothing, and made the +sign of the Holy Cross; and then dropped his head and sank down. The +congregation of the brethren were already chanting matins in the great +church, when one of those who watched about our father the book of the +Gospels and read before him the history of the Passion, which was to be +read that day at the mass. But when he came to our Lord's words, 'Ye are +they which have continued with me in my temptations, and I appoint unto +you a kingdom, as my Father hath appointed unto me, that ye may eat and +drink at my table,' he began to draw his breath more slowly. We saw +that he was just going, so he was removed from his bed, and laid upon +sackcloth and ashes. And thus, the whole family of his children being +collected round him, he gave up his last breath into the hands of his +Creator, and slept in peace." + + DEAN CHURCH. + + + +[Note:_Anselm_. An Italian by birth (1033-1109), was Abbot of Bee, in +Normandy, and afterwards Archbishop of Canterbury, in both succeeding +his countryman Lanfranc. He was famous as a scholastic philosopher; and, +as a Churchman, he struggled long for the liberties of the Church with +William II. and Henry I.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +THE MURDER OF BECKET. + + +The vespers had already begun, and the monks were singing the service in +the choir, when two boys rushed up the nave, announcing, more by their +terrified gestures than by their words, that the soldiers were bursting +into the palace and monastery. Instantly the service was thrown into the +utmost confusion; part remained at prayer, part fled into the numerous +hiding-places the vast fabric affords; and part went down the steps of +the choir into the transept to meet the little band at the door. "Come +in, come in!" exclaimed one of them; "Come in, and let us die together." +The Archbishop continued to stand outside, and said, "Go and finish the +service. So long as you keep in the entrance, I shall not come in." They +fell back a few paces, and he stepped within the door, but, finding the +whole place thronged with people, he paused on the threshold, and asked, +"What is it that these people fear?" One general answer broke forth, +"The armed men in the cloister." As he turned and said, "I shall go out +to them," he heard the clash of arms behind. The knights had just forced +their way into the cloister, and were now (as would appear from their +being thus seen through the open door) advancing along its southern +side. They were in mail, which covered their faces up to their eyes, and +carried their swords drawn. Three had hatchets. Fitzurse, with the axe +he had taken from the carpenters, was foremost, shouting as he came, +"Here, here, king's men!" Immediately behind him followed Robert +Fitzranulph, with three other knights, and a motley group--some their +own followers, some from the town--with weapons, though not in armour, +brought up the rear. At this sight, so unwonted in the peaceful +cloisters of Canterbury, not probably beheld since the time when the +monastery had been sacked by the Danes, the monks within, regardless +of all remonstrances, shut the door of the cathedral, and proceeded +to barricade it with iron bars. A loud knocking was heard from the +terrified band without, who having vainly endeavoured to prevent the +entrance of the knights into the cloister, now rushed before them to +take refuge in the church. Becket, who had stepped some paces into the +cathedral, but was resisting the solicitations of those immediately +about him to move up into the choir for safety, darted back, calling +aloud as he went, "Away, you cowards! By virtue of your obedience I +command you not to shut the door--the church must not be turned into a +castle." With his own hands he thrust them away from the door, opened it +himself, and catching hold of the excluded monks, dragged them into the +building, exclaiming, "Come in, come in--faster, faster!" + + * * * * * + +The knights, who had been checked for a moment by the sight of the +closed door, on seeing it unexpectedly thrown open, rushed into the +church. It was, we must remember, about five o'clock in a winter +evening; the shades of night were gathering, and were deepened into +a still darker gloom within the high and massive walls of the vast +cathedral, which was only illuminated here and there by the solitary +lamps burning before the altars. The twilight, lengthening from the +shortest day a fortnight before, was but just sufficient to reveal the +outline of objects. + + * * * * * + +In the dim twilight they could just discern a group of figures mounting +the steps of the eastern staircase. One of the knights called out to +them, "Stay." Another, "Where is Thomas Becket, traitor to the King?" +No answer was returned. None could have been expected by any one who +remembered the indignant silence with which Becket had swept by when the +same words had been applied by Randulf of Broc at Northampton. Fitzurse +rushed forward, and, stumbling against one of the monks on the lower +step, still not able to distinguish clearly in the darkness, exclaimed, +"Where is the Archbishop?" Instantly the answer came: "Reginald, here I +am, no traitor, but the archbishop and priest of God; what do you wish?" +and from the fourth step, which he had reached in his ascent, with a +slight motion of his head--noticed apparently as his peculiar manner in +moments of excitement--Becket descended to the transept. Attired, we +are told, in his white rochet, with a cloak and hood thrown over his +shoulders, he thus suddenly confronted his assailants. Fitzurse sprang +back two or three paces, and Becket passing by him took up his station +between the central pillar and the massive wall which still forms the +south-west corner of what was then the chapel of St. Benedict. Here they +gathered round him, with the cry, "Absolve the bishops whom you have +excommunicated." "I cannot do other than I have done," he replied, and +turning to Fitzurse, he added, "Reginald, you have received many favours +at my hands; why do you come into my church armed?" Fitzurse planted the +axe against his breast, and returned for answer, "You shall die--I will +tear out your heart." Another, perhaps in kindness, struck him between +the shoulders with the flat of his sword, exclaiming, "Fly; you are a +dead man." "I am ready to die," replied the primate, "for God and the +Church; but I warn you, I curse you in the name of God Almighty, if you +do not let my men escape." + +The well-known horror which in that age was felt at an act of sacrilege, +together with the sight of the crowds who were rushing in from the town +through the nave, turned their efforts for the next few moments to +carrying him out of the church. Fitzurse threw down the axe, and tried +to drag him out by the collar of his long cloak, calling, "Come with +us--you are our prisoner." "I will not fly, you detestable fellow," was +Becket's reply, roused to his usual vehemence, and wrenching the cloak +out of Fitzurse's grasp. The three knights struggled violently to put +him on Tracy's shoulders. Becket set his back against the pillar, and +resisted with all his might, whilst Grim, vehemently remonstrating, +threw his arms around him to aid his efforts. In the scuffle, Becket +fastened upon Tracy, shook him by his coat of mail, and exerting his +great strength, flung him down on the pavement. It was hopeless to carry +on the attempt to remove him. And in the final struggle which now began, +Fitzurse, as before, took the lead. He approached with his drawn sword, +and waving it over his head, cried, "Strike, strike!" but merely dashed +off his cap. Tracy sprang forward and struck a more decided blow. + + * * * * * + +The blood from the first blow was trickling down his face in a thin +streak; he wiped it with his arm, and when he saw the stain, he said, +"Into thy hands, O Lord, I commend my spirit." At the third blow, he +sank on his knees--his arms falling, but his hands still joined as if +in prayer. With his face turned towards the altar of St. Benedict, he +murmured in a low voice, "For the name of Jesus, and the defence of the +Church, I am willing to die." Without moving hand or foot, he fell fiat +on his face as he spoke, and with such dignity that his mantle, which +extended from head to foot, was not disarranged. In this posture he +received a tremendous blow, aimed with such violence that the scalp or +crown of the head was severed from the skull, and the sword snapped in +two on the marble pavement. Hugh of Horsea planted his foot on the neck +of the corpse, thrust his sword into the ghastly wound, and scattered +the brains over the pavement. "Let us go--let us go," he said, in +conclusion, "the traitor is dead; he will rise no more." + + DEAN STANLEY. + + + +[Note: _Thomas Becket_ (1119-1170). Chancellor and afterwards Archbishop +of Canterbury under Henry II.; maintained a heroic, though perhaps +ambitious and undesirable struggle with that king for the independence +of the clergy; and ended his life by assassination at the hands of +certain of Henry's servants.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +THE DEATH OF ELIZABETH + +The triumph of her lieutenant, Mountjoy, flung its lustre over the last +days of Elizabeth, but no outer triumph could break the gloom which +gathered round the dying queen. Lonely as she had always been, her +loneliness deepened as she drew towards the grave. The statesmen and +warriors of her earlier days had dropped one by one from her council +board; and their successors were watching her last moments, and +intriguing for favour in the coming reign. The old splendour of her +court waned and disappeared. Only officials remained about her, "the +other of the council and nobility estrange themselves by all occasions." +As she passed along in her progresses, the people, whose applause she +courted, remained cold and silent. The temper of the age, in fact, was +changing and isolating her as it changed. Her own England, the England +which had grown up around her, serious, moral, prosaic, shrank coldly +from this child of earth, and the renascence, brilliant, fanciful, +unscrupulous, irreligious. She had enjoyed life as the men of her day +enjoyed it, and now that they were gone she clung to it with a fierce +tenacity. She hunted, she danced, she jested with her young favourites, +she coquetted, and scolded, and frolicked at sixty-seven as she had +done at thirty. "The queen," wrote a courtier, a few months before her +death, "was never so gallant these many years, nor so set upon jollity." +She persisted, in spite of opposition, in her gorgeous progresses from +country-house to country-house. She clung to business as of old, and +rated in her usual fashion, "one who minded not to giving up some matter +of account." But death crept on. Her face became haggard, and her frame +shrank almost to a skeleton. At last, her taste for finery disappeared, +and she refused to change her dresses for a week together. A strange +melancholy settled down on her: "she held in her hand," says one who saw +her in her last days, "a golden cup, which she often put to her lips: +but in truth her heart seemed too full to need more filling." Gradually +her mind gave way. She lost her memory, the violence of her temper +became unbearable, her very courage seemed to forsake her. She called +for a sword to lie constantly beside her, and thrust it from time to +time through the arras, as if she heard murderers stirring there. Food +and rest became alike distasteful. She sate day and night propped up +with pillows on a stool, her finger on her lip, her eyes fixed on the +floor, without a word. If she once broke the silence, it was with a +flash of her old queenliness. Cecil asserted that she "must" go to bed, +and the word roused her like a trumpet. "Must!" she exclaimed; "is +_must_ a word to be addressed to princes? Little man, little man! thy +father, if he had been alive, durst not have used that word." Then, as +her anger spent itself, she sank into her old dejection. "Thou art so +presumptuous," she said, "because thou knowest I shall die." She rallied +once more when the ministers beside her bed named Lord Beauchamp, the +heir to the Suffolk claim, as a possible successor. "I will have no +rogue's son," she cried hoarsely, "in my seat." But she gave no sign, +save a motion of the head, at the mention of the King of Scots. She was +in fact fast becoming insensible; and early the next morning the life +of Elizabeth, a life so great, so strange and lonely in its greatness, +passed quietly away. + + J.R. GREEN. + + + +[Notes: _Mountjoy_. The Queen's lieutenant in Ireland, who had had +considerable success in dealing with the Irish rebels. + + +_This chill of ... the renascence._ In her irreligion, as well as in +her brilliancy and fancy, Elizabeth might fitly be called the child +or product of the Pagan renascence or new birth, as the return to the +freedom of classic literature, so powerful in the England of her day, +was called. + + +_Thy father_ = the great Lord Burghley, who guided the counsels of the +Queen throughout all the earlier part of her reign. + + +_The Suffolk claim, i.e.,_ the claim derived from Mary, the sister of +Henry VIII., who married Charles Brandon, Duke of Suffolk. James, who +succeeded Elizabeth, was descended from the elder sister, Margaret, +married to James IV. of Scotland.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + + THE SAXON AND THE GAEL. + + + So toilsome was the road to trace, + The guide, abating of his pace, + Led slowly through the pass's jaws, + And ask'd Fitz-James by what strange cause + He sought these wilds? traversed by few, + Without a pass from Roderick Dhu. + "Brave Gael, my pass, in danger tried, + Hangs in my belt, and by my side; + Yet sooth to tell," the Saxon said, + "I dreamed not now to claim its aid. + When here but three days since, I came, + Bewildered in pursuit of game, + All seemed as peaceful and as still + As the mist slumbering on yon hill: + Thy dangerous chief was then afar, + Nor soon expected back from war." + "But, Stranger, peaceful since you came, + Bewildered in the mountain game, + Whence the bold boast by which you show + Vich-Alpine's vowed and mortal foe?" + "Warrior, but yester-morn, I knew + Nought of thy Chieftain, Roderick Dhu, + Save as an outlaw'd desperate man, + The chief of a rebellious clan, + Who in the Regent's court and sight, + With ruffian dagger stabbed a knight; + Yet this alone might from his part + Sever each true and loyal heart." + Wrathful at such arraignment foul, + Dark lowered the clansman's sable scowl. + A space he paused, then sternly said,-- + "And heard'st thou why he drew his blade? + Heards't thou that shameful word and blow + Brought Roderick's vengeance on his foe? + What reck'd the Chieftain if he stood + On Highland-heath, or Holy-Rood? + He rights such wrong where it is given, + If it were in the court of heaven." + "Still was it outrage:--yet, 'tis true, + Not then claimed sovereignty his due; + While Albany, with feeble hand, + Held borrowed truncheon of command, + The young King mew'd in Stirling tower, + Was stranger to respect and power. + But then, thy Chieftain's robber life! + Winning mean prey by causeless strife, + Wrenching from ruined lowland swain + His herds and harvest reared in vain, + Methinks a soul like thine should scorn + The spoils from such foul foray borne." + The Gael beheld him grim the while, + And answered with disdainful smile,-- + "Saxon, from yonder mountain high, + I marked thee send delighted eye + Far to the south and east, where lay + Extended in succession gay, + Deep waving fields and pastures green, + With gentle slopes and groves between:-- + These fertile plains, that softened vale, + Were once the birthright of the Gael; + The stranger came with iron hand, + And from our fathers reft the land. + Where dwell we now? See, rudely swell + Crag over crag, fell over fell. + Ask we this savage hill we tread, + For fattened steer or household bread; + Ask we for flocks these shingles dry, + And well the mountain might reply,-- + "To you, as to your sires of yore, + Belong the target and claymore! + I give you shelter in my breast, + Your own good blades must win the rest." + Pent in this fortress of the North, + Think'st thou we will not sally forth, + To spoil the spoiler as we may, + And from the robber rend the prey? + Aye, by my soul!--While on yon plain + The Saxon rears one shock of grain; + While of ten thousand herds, there strays + But one along yon river's maze,-- + The Gael, of plain and river heir, + Shall, with strong hand, redeem his share. + Where live the mountain Chiefs who hold + That plundering Lowland field and fold + Is aught but retribution true? + Seek other cause 'gainst Roderick Dhu." + Answered Fitz-James--"And, if I sought, + Think'st thou no other could be brought? + What deem ye of my path waylaid, + My life given o'er to ambuscade?" + "As of a meed to rashness due: + Hadst thou sent warning fair and true,-- + I seek my hound, or falcon strayed. + I seek, good faith, a Highland maid.-- + Free hadst thou been to come and go; + But secret path marks secret foe. + Nor yet, for this, even as a spy, + Hadst thou unheard, been doomed to die, + Save to fulfil an augury." + "Well, let it pass; nor will I now + Fresh cause of enmity avow, + To chafe thy mood and cloud thy brow. + Enough, I am by promise tied + To match me with this man of pride: + Twice have I sought Clan-Alpine's glen + In peace: but when I come again, + I come with banner, brand, and bow, + As leader seeks his mortal foe. + For love-lorn swain, in lady's bower, + Ne'er panted for the appointed hour, + As I, until before me stand + This rebel Chieftain and his band." + "Have, then, thy wish!"--he whistled shrill, + And he was answered from the hill: + Wild as the scream of the curlew, + From crag to crag the signal flew. + Instant, through copse and heath, arose + Bonnets and spears, and bended bows. + On right, on left, above, below, + Sprung up at once the lurking foe; + From shingles grey their lances start, + The bracken bush sends forth the dart. + The rushes and the willow wand + Are bristling into axe and brand, + And every tuft of broom gives life + To plaided warrior armed for strife. + That whistle garrison'd the glen + At once with full five hundred men, + As if the yawning hill to heaven + A subterraneous host had given. + Watching their leader's beck and will, + All silent there they stood and still. + Like the loose crags whose threatening mass + Lay tottering o'er the hollow pass, + As if an infant's touch could urge + Their headlong passage down the verge, + With step and weapon forward flung. + Upon the mountain-side they hung. + The mountaineer cast glance of pride + Along Benledi's living side, + Then fixed his eye and sable brow + Full on Fitz-James--"How says't thou now? + These are Clan-Alpine's warriors true, + And, Saxon,--I am Roderick Dhu!" + Fitz-James was brave:--Though to his heart + The life-blood thrilled with sudden start, + He mann'd himself with dauntless air, + Returned the Chief his haughty stare, + His back against a rock he bore, + And firmly placed his foot before:-- + "Come one, come all! this rock shall fly + From its firm base as soon as I." + Sir Roderick marked--and in his eyes + Respect was mingled with surprise, + And the stern joy which warriors feel + In foemen worthy of their steel. + Short space he stood--then waved his hand; + Down sunk the disappearing band: + Each warrior vanished where he stood, + In broom or bracken, heath or wood: + Sunk brand and spear, and bended bow, + In osiers pale and copses low; + It seemed as if their mother Earth + Had swallowed up her warlike birth. + The wind's last breath had tossed in air + Pennon, and plaid, and plumage fair,-- + The next but swept a lone hill-side, + Where heath and fern were waving wide; + The sun's last glance was glinted back, + From spear and glaive, from targe and jack,-- + The next, all unreflected, shone + On bracken green and cold grey stone. + Fitz-James looked round--yet scarce believed + The witness that his sight received; + Such apparition well might seem + Delusion of a dreadful dream. + Sir Roderick in suspense he eyed, + And to his look the Chief replied, + "Fear nought--nay, that I need not say-- + But--doubt not aught from mine array. + Thou art my guest:--I pledged my word + As far as Coilantogle ford: + Nor would I call a clansman's brand, + For aid against one valiant hand, + Though on our strife lay every vale + Rent by the Saxon from the Gael. + So move we on;--I only meant + To show the reed on which you leant, + Deeming this path you might pursue + Without a pass from Roderick Dhu." + + * * * * * + + The Chief in silence strode before, + And reached that torrent's sounding shore, + Which, daughter of three mighty lakes, + From Vennachar in silver breaks + Sweeps through the plain, and ceaseless mines, + On Bochastle the mouldering lines. + Where "Rome, the Empress of the world. + Of yore her eagle wings unfurl'd. + And here his course the Chieftain staid; + Threw down his target and his plaid, + And to the Lowland warrior said:-- + "Bold Saxon! to his promise just, + Vich-Alpine has discharged his trust. + This murderous Chief, this ruthless man. + This head of a rebellious clan, + Hath led thee safe, through watch and ward, + Far past Clan-Alpine's outmost guard. + Now, man to man, and steel to steel, + A Chieftain's vengeance thou shalt feel, + See, here, all vantageless, I stand, + Armed like thyself, with single brand: + For this is Coilantogle ford, + And thou must keep thee with thy sword." + The Saxon paused:--"I ne'er delayed, + When foeman bade me draw my blade; + Nay more, brave Chief, I vow'd thy death: + Yet sure thy fair and generous faith, + And my deep debt for life preserved, + A better meed have well deserved:-- + Can nought but blood our feud atone? + Are there no means?"--"No, stranger, none! + And hear,--to fire thy flagging zeal,-- + The Saxon cause rests on thy steel; + For thus spoke Fate by prophet bred + Between the living and the dead: + "Who spills the foremost foeman's life, + His party conquers in the strife."-- + "Then by my word," the Saxon said, + "The riddle is already read. + Seek yonder brake beneath the cliff,-- + There lies Red Murdoch, stark and stiff. + Thus Fate has solved her prophecy, + Then yield to Fate, and not to me. + To James, at Stirling, let us go, + When, if thou wilt be still his foe, + Or if the King shall not agree + To grant thee grace and favour free, + I plight mine honour, oath, and word, + That, to thy native strengths restored, + With each advantage shalt thou stand, + That aids thee now to guard thy land."-- + Dark lightning flashed from Roderick's eye-- + "Soars thy presumption then so high, + Because a wretched kern ye slew, + Homage to name to Roderick Dhu? + He yields not, he, to man nor Fate! + Thou add'st but fuel to my hate:-- + My clansman's blood demands revenge.-- + Not yet prepared?--By Heaven, I change + My thought, and hold thy valour light + As that of some vain carpet-knight, + Who ill-deserved my courteous care, + And whose best boast is but to wear + A braid of his fair lady's hair."-- + "I thank thee, Roderick, for the word! + It nerves my heart, it steels my sword; + For I have sworn this braid to stain + In the best blood that warms thy vein. + Now, truce, farewell; and ruth, begone! + Yet think not that by thee alone, + Proud Chief! can courtesy be shown: + Though not from copse, or heath, or cairn, + Start at my whistle, clansmen stern, + Of this small horn one feeble blast + Would fearful odds against thee cast. + But fear not--doubt not--which thou wilt-- + We try this quarrel hilt to hilt."-- + Then each at once his faulchion drew, + Each on the ground his scabbard threw, + Each looked to sun, and stream, and plain, + As what they ne'er might see again: + Then foot, and point, and eye opposed, + In dubious strife they darkly closed. + Ill-fared it then with Roderick Dhu, + That on the field his targe he threw, + Whose brazen studs and tough bull-hide + Had death so often dashed aside: + For, trained abroad his arms to wield, + Fitz-James's blade was sword and shield. + He practised every pass and ward, + To thrust, to strike, to feint, to guard; + While less expert, though stronger far, + The Gael maintained unequal war. + Three times in closing strife they stood, + And thrice the Saxon blade drank blood: + No stinted draught, no scanty tide, + The gushing flood the tartans dyed. + Fierce Roderick felt the fatal drain, + And showered his blows like wintry rain; + And, as firm rock or castle-roof, + Against the winter shower is proof, + The foe invulnerable still + Foiled his wild rage by steady skill; + Till, at advantage ta'en, his brand + Forced Roderick's weapon from his hand, + And, backward borne upon the lea, + Brought the proud Chieftain to his knee. + "Now, yield thee, or, by Him who made + The world, thy heart's blood dyes my blade!"-- + "Thy threats, thy mercy, I defy! + Let recreant yield, who fears to die."-- + Like adder darting from his coil, + Like wolf that dashes through the toil, + Like mountain-cat who guards her young, + Full at Fitz-James's throat he sprung, + Received, but reck'd not of a wound, + And locked his arms his foeman round.-- + Now gallant Saxon, hold thine own! + No maiden's hand is round thee thrown! + That desperate grasp thy frame might feel, + Through bars of brass and triple steel!-- + They tug, they strain!--down, down they go, + The Gael above, Fitz-James below. + The Chieftain's gripe his throat compress'd, + His knee was planted on his breast; + His clotted locks he backward threw, + Across his brow his hand he drew, + From blood and mist to clear his sight, + Then gleam'd aloft his dagger bright! + --But hate and fury ill supplied + The stream of life's exhausted tide, + And all too late the advantage came, + To turn the odds of deadly game; + For, while the dagger gleam'd on high, + Keeled soul and sense, reeled brain and eye, + Down came the blow! but in the heath + The erring blade found bloodless sheath. + The struggling foe may now unclasp + The fainting Chief's relaxing grasp; + Unbounded from the dreadful close, + But breathless all, Fitz-James arose. + + SCOTT. + + + +[Notes: _Fitz-James_ is James V. in disguise. + + +_Holy Rood_, or Holy Cross, where was the royal palace of the Scottish +kings. + + +_Albany_. The Duke of Albany, who was regent of Scotland during part of +the minority of James V. + + +_Where Rome, the Empress, &c._ And where remnants of Roman encampments +are still to be traced.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +THE BATTLE OF NASEBY. + + +BY five o'clock in the morning, the whole army, in order of battle, +began to descry the enemy from the rising grounds about a mile from +Naseby, and moved towards them. They were drawn up on a little ascent in +a large common fallow-field, in one line, extending from one side of the +field to the other, the field something more than a mile over; our army +in the same order, in one line, with the reserves. + +The king led the main battle of foot, Prince Rupert the right wing of +the horse, and Sir Marmaduke Langdale the left. Of the enemy Fairfax and +Skippon led the body, Cromwell and Roseter the right, and Ireton the +left. The numbers of both armies so equal, as not to differ five hundred +men, save that the king had most horse by about one thousand, and +Fairfax most foot by about five hundred. The number was in each army +about eighteen thousand men. + +The armies coming close up, the wings engaged first. The prince with his +right wing charged with his wonted fury, and drove all the parliament's +wing of horse, one division excepted, clear out of the field. Ireton, +who commanded this wing, give him his due, rallied often, and fought +like a lion; but our wing bore down all before them, and pursued +them with a terrible execution. + +Ireton, seeing one division of his horse left, repaired to them, and +keeping his ground, fell foul of a brigade of our foot, who coming up to +the head of the line, he like a madman charges them with his horse. But +they with their pikes tore them to pieces; so that this division was +entirely ruined. Ireton himself, thrust through the thigh with a pike, +wounded in the face with a halberd, was unhorsed and taken prisoner. + +Cromwell, who commanded the parliament's right wing, charged Sir +Marmaduke Langdale with extraordinary fury; but he, an old tried +soldier, stood firm, and received the charge with equal gallantry, +exchanging all their shot, carabines, and pistols, and then fell on +sword in hand, Roseter and Whaley had the better on the point of +the wing, and routed two divisions of horse, pushed them behind the +reserves, where they rallied, and charged again, but were at last +defeated; the rest of the horse, now charged in the flank, retreated +fighting, and were pushed behind the reserves of foot. + +While this was doing, the foot engaged with equal fierceness, and for +two hours there was a terrible fire. The king's foot, backed with +gallant officers, and full of rage at the rout of their horse, bore +down the enemy's brigade led by Skippon. The old man wounded, bleeding, +retreats to their reserves. All the foot, except the general's brigade, +were thus driven into the reserves, where their officers rallied them, +and brought them on to a fresh charge; and here the horse having driven +our horse above a quarter of a mile from the foot, face about, and fall +in on the rear of the foot. + +Had our right wing done thus, the day had been secured; but Prince +Rupert, according to his custom, following the flying enemy, never +concerned himself with the safety of those behind; and yet he returned +sooner than he had done in like cases too. At our return we found all in +confusion, our foot broken, all but one brigade, which, though charged +in the front, flank, and rear, could not be broken, till Sir Thomas +Fairfax himself came up to the charge with fresh men, and then they +were rather cut in pieces than beaten; for they stood with their pikes +charged every way to the last extremity. + +In this condition, at the distance of a quarter of a mile, we saw the +king rallying his horse, and preparing to renew the fight; and our wing +of horse coming up to him, gave him opportunity to draw up a large body +of horse; so large, that all the enemy's horse facing us, stood still +and looked on, but did not think fit to charge us, till their foot, who +had entirely broken our main battle, were put into order again, and +brought up to us. + +The officers about the king advised his majesty rather to draw off; for, +since our foot were lost, it would be too much odds to expose the horse +to the fury of their whole army, and would be but sacrificing his best +troops, without any hopes of success. + +The king, though with great regret at the loss of his foot, yet seeing +there was no other hope, took this advice, and retreated in good order +to Harborough, and from thence to Leicester. + +This was the occasion of the enemy having so great a number of +prisoners; for the horse being thus gone off, the foot had no means +to make their retreat, and were obliged to yield themselves. +Commissary-General Ireton being taken by a captain of foot, makes the +captain his prisoner, to save his life, and gives him his liberty for +his courtesy before. + +Cromwell and Roseter, with all the enemy's horse, followed us as far as +Leicester, and killed all that they could lay hold on straggling from +the body, but durst not attempt to charge us in a body. The +king expecting the enemy would come to Leicester, removes to +Ashby-de-la-Zouch, where we had some time to recollect ourselves. + +This was the most fatal action of the whole war; not so much for the +loss of our cannon, ammunition, and baggage, of which the enemy boasted +so much, but as it was impossible for the king ever to retrieve it. The +foot, the best that he was ever master of, could never be supplied; his +army in the west was exposed to certain ruin; the north overrun with the +Scots; in short, the case grew desperate, and the king was once upon the +point of bidding us all disband, and shift for ourselves. + +We lost in this fight not above two thousand slain, and the parliament +near as many, but the prisoners were a great number; the whole body of +foot being, as I have said, dispersed, there were four thousand five +hundred prisoners, besides four hundred officers, two thousand horses, +twelve pieces of cannon, forty barrels of powder; all the king's +baggage, coaches, most of his servants, and his secretary; with his +cabinet of letters, of which the parliament made great improvement, and, +basely enough, caused his private letters between his majesty and the +queen, her majesty's letters to the king, and a great deal of such +stuff, to be printed. + + DEFOE. + + + +[Note: _The battle of Naseby_, fought on June 14th, 1645. The king's +forces were routed, and his cannon and baggage fell into the enemy's +hands. Not only was the loss heavy, but it was made more serious by his +correspondence falling into the hands of the parliamentary leaders, +which exposed his dealings with the Irish Roman Catholics. The most +remarkable point about this description is the air of reality which +Defoe gives to his account of an event which took place nearly twenty +years before his birth.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +THE PILGRIMS AND GIANT DESPAIR. + +Now there was, not far from the place where they lay, a castle, called +Doubting Castle, the owner whereof was Giant Despair, and it was in his +grounds they now were sleeping; wherefore he, getting up in the morning +early, and walking up and down in his fields, caught Christian and +Hopeful asleep in his grounds. Then with a grim and surly voice he bid +them awake, and asked them whence they were, and what they did in his +grounds. They told him that they were pilgrims, and that they had lost +their way. Then said the giant. You have this night trespassed on me by +trampling in and lying on my grounds, and therefore you must go along +with me. So they were forced to go, because he was stronger than they. +They also had but little to say, for they knew themselves in a fault. +The giant, therefore, drove them before him, and put them into his +castle, into a very dark dungeon, nasty, and loathsome to the spirits of +these two men. Here, then, they lay from Wednesday morning till Saturday +night, without one bit of bread or drop of drink, or light, or any to +ask how they did; they were, therefore, here in evil case, and were far +from friends and acquaintance. Now, in this place Christian had double +sorrow, because it was through his unadvised haste that they were +brought into this distress. + +Now Giant Despair had a wife, and her name was Diffidence; so when he +was gone to bed, he told his wife what he had done, to wit, that he +had taken a couple of prisoners, and cast them into his dungeon for +trespassing on his grounds. Then he asked her also what he had best to +do further to them. So she asked him what they were, whence they came, +and whither they were bound, and he told her. Then she counselled him, +that when he arose in the morning he should beat them without mercy. So +when he arose, he getteth him a grievous crabtree cudgel, and goes down +into the dungeon to them, and there first falls to rating of them as if +they were dogs, although they never gave him a word of distaste. Then he +falls upon them, and beats them fearfully, in such sort that they were +not able to help themselves, or to turn them upon the floor. This done, +he withdraws, and leaves them there to condole their misery, and to +mourn under their distress: so all that day they spent their time in +nothing but sighs and bitter lamentations. The next night, she, talking +with her husband further about them, and understanding that they were +yet alive, did advise him to counsel them to make away with themselves. +So when morning was come, he goes to them in a surly manner, as before, +and perceiving them to be very sore with the stripes that he had given +them the day before, he told them, that since they were never like to +come out of that place, their only way would be forthwith to make an end +of themselves, either with knife, halter, or poison; for why, said +he, should you choose to live, seeing it is attended with so much +bitterness? But they desired him to let them go. With that he looked +ugly upon them, and, rushing to them, had doubtless made an end of them +himself, but that he fell into one of his fits (for he sometimes, in +sunshiny weather, fell into fits), and lost for a time the use of his +hands; wherefore he withdrew, and left them as before to consider what +to do. + +Well, towards evening the giant goes down into the dungeon again, to see +if his prisoners had taken his counsel. But when he came there, he found +them alive; and, truly, alive was all; for now, what for want of bread +and water, and by reason of the wounds they received when he beat them, +they could do little but breathe. But, I say, he found them alive; at +which he fell into a grievous rage, and told them, that seeing they had +disobeyed his counsel, it should be worse with them than if they had +never been born. + +At this they trembled greatly, and I think that Christian fell into +a swoon: but coming a little to himself again, they renewed their +discourse about the giant's counsel, and whether yet they had best take +it or no. + +Now night being come again, and the giant and his wife being in bed, she +asked him concerning the prisoners, and if they had taken his counsel; +to which he replied. They are sturdy rogues; they choose rather to bear +all hardships than to make away with themselves. Then said she, Take +them into the castle-yard to-morrow, and show them the bones and skulls +of those that thou hast already despatched, and make them believe, ere a +week comes to an end, thou wilt tear them in pieces, as thou hast done +their fellows before them. + +So when the morning was come, the giant goes to them again, and takes +them into the castle-yard, and shows them as his wife had bidden him. +These, said he, were pilgrims as you are once, and they trespassed on my +grounds as you have done; and when I thought fit, I tore them in pieces; +and so within ten days I will do you. Go get you down to your den again. +And with that he beat them all the way thither. They lay therefore all +day on Saturday in lamentable case as before. Now when night was come, +and when Mrs. Diffidence and her husband the giant were got to bed, they +began to renew their discourse of the prisoners; and withal the old +giant wondered that he could neither by his blows nor counsel bring them +to an end. And with that his wife replied, I fear, said she, that they +live in hopes that some will come to relieve them, or that they have +picklocks about them, by the means of which they hope to escape. And +sayest thou so, my dear? said the giant; I will therefore search them in +the morning. + +Well, on Saturday about midnight, they began to pray, and continued in +prayer till almost break of day. + +Now, a little before it was day, good Christian, as one half amazed, +broke out into this passionate speech: What a fool, quoth he, am I, to +lie in a dungeon, when I may as well walk at liberty! I have a key in +my bosom called Promise, that will, I am persuaded, open any lock in +Doubtful Castle. Then said Hopeful, That's good news; good brother, +pluck it out of thy bosom and try. + +Then Christian pulled it out of his bosom, and began to try at the +dungeon-door, whose bolt, as he turned the key, gave back, and the door +flew open with ease, and Christian and Hopeful both came out. Then he +went to the outward door that leads into the castle-yard, and with his +key opened that door also. After that he went to the iron gate, for that +must be opened too, but that lock went desperately hard, yet the key did +open it. Then they thrust open the gate to make their escape with speed; +but that gate, as it opened, made such a creaking, that it waked Giant +Despair, who, hastily rising to pursue his prisoners, felt his limbs to +fail; for his fits took him again, so that he could by no means go after +them. Then, they went on, and came to the king's highway again, and so +were safe, because they were out of his jurisdiction. + + BUNYAN. + + + +[Note: _John Bunyan_ (1628-1688), the Puritan tinker, author of the +'Pilgrim's Progress,'] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + + THE WINTER EVENING. + + + Hark! 'tis the twanging horn o'er yonder bridge, + That with its wearisome but needful length + Bestrides the wintry flood, in which the moon + Sees her unwrinkled face reflected bright!-- + He comes, the herald of a noisy world, + With spatter'd boots, strapped waist, and frozen locks! + News from all nations lumb'ring at his back. + True to his charge, the close-pack'd load behind. + Yet careless what he brings, his one concern + Is to conduct it to the destined inn; + And, having dropp'd th' expected bag, pass on. + He whistles as he goes, light-hearted wretch, + Cold and yet cheerful: messenger of grief + Perhaps to thousands, and of joy to some; + To him indiff'rent whether grief or joy. + Houses in ashes, and the fall of stocks, + Births, deaths, and marriages, epistles wet + With tears, that trickled down the writer's cheeks + Fast as the periods from his fluent quill. + Or charged with am'rous sighs of absent swains, + Or nymphs responsive, equally affect + His horse and him, unconscious of them all. + But oh the important budget; usher'd in + With such heart-shaking music, who can say + What are its tidings? have our troops awak'd? + Or do they still, as if with opium drugged, + Snore to the murmurs of the Atlantic wave? + Is India free? and does she wear her plumed + And jewell'd turban with a smile of peace, + Or do we grind her still? The grand debate, + The popular harangue, the tart reply, + The logic, and the wisdom, and the wit, + And the loud laugh--I long to know them all; + I burn to set the imprison'd wranglers free, + And give them voice and utt'rance once again. + + Now stir the fire, and close the shutters fast, + Let fall the curtains, wheel the sofa round, + And, while the bubbling and loud hissing urn + Throws up a steamy column, and the cups + That cheer, but not inebriate, wait on each, + So let us welcome peaceful evening in. + Not such his evening, who with shining face + Sweats in the crowded theatre, and, squeez'd + And bor'd with elbow-points through both his sides. + Outscolds the ranting actor on the stage; + Nor his, who patient stands till his feet throb. + And his head thumps, to feed upon the breath + Of patriots bursting with heroic rage, + Or placemen, all tranquillity and smiles. + This folio of four pages, happy work! + Which not e'en critics criticise; that holds + Inquisitive attention, while I read. + Fast bound in chains of silence, which the fair, + Though eloquent themselves, yet fear to break: + What is it, but a map of busy life, + Its fluctuations, and its vast concerns? + Here runs the mountainous and craggy ridge, + That tempts ambition. On the summit, see, + The seals of office glitter in his eyes; + He climbs, he pants, he grasps them! At his heels. + Close at his heels, a demagogue ascends, + And with a dext'rous jerk, soon twists him + And wins them, but to lose them in his turn. + Here rills of oily eloquence in soft + Meanders lubricate the course they take; + The modest speaker is asham'd and grieved + To engross a moment's notice; and yet begs. + Begs a propitious ear for his poor thoughts, + However trivial all that he conceives. + Sweet bashfulness! it claims at least this praise; + The dearth of information and good sense, + That it foretells us, always comes to pass. + Cataracts of declamation thunder here; + There forests of no meaning spread the page, + In which all comprehension wanders lost; + While fields of pleasantry amuse us there + With merry descants on a nation's woes. + The rest appears a wilderness of strange + But gay confusion; roses for the cheeks, + And lilies for the brows of faded age, + Teeth for the toothless, ringlets for the bald, + Heaven, earth, and ocean, plunder'd of their sweets, + Nectareous essences, Olympian dews, + Sermons, and city feasts, and fav'rite airs, + Ethereal journeys, submarine exploits. + And Katerfelto, with his hair on end + At his own wonders, wond'ring for his bread. + + 'Tis pleasant, through the loopholes of retreat, + To peep at such a world; to see the stir + Of the great Babel, and not feel the crowd; + To hear the roar she sends through all her gates + At a safe distance, where the dying sound + Falls a soft murmur on the uninjur'd ear. + Thus sitting, and surveying thus at ease + The globe and its concerns, I seem advanc'd + To some secure and more than mortal height. + That liberates and exempts me from them all + It turns submitted to my view, turns round + With all its generations; I behold + The tumult, and am still. The sound of war + Has lost its terrors ere it reaches me; + Grieves, but alarms me not. I mourn the pride + And avarice that make man a wolf to man; + Hear the faint echo of those brazen throats + By which he speaks the language of his heart, + And sigh, but never tremble at the bound. + He travels and expatiates, as the bee + From flower to flower, so he from land to land: + The manners, customs, policy, of all + Pay contribution to the store he gleans; + He sucks intelligence in every clinic, + And spreads the honey of his deep research + At his return--a rich repast for me. + He travels, and I too. I tread his deck, + Ascend his topmast, through his peering eyes + Discover countries, with a kindred heart + Suffer his woes, and share in his escapes; + While fancy, like the finger of a clock, + Runs the great circuit, and is still at home. + + COWPER. + + + +[Note:_Katerfelto_. A quack then exhibiting in London.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +A HARD WINTER. + + +There were some circumstances attending the remarkable frost of January +1776 so singular and striking, that a short detail of them may not be +unacceptable. + +The most certain way to be exact will be to copy the passages from my +journal, which were taken from time to time, as things occurred. But it +may be proper previously to remark, that the first week in January was +uncommonly wet, and drowned with vast rain from every quarter; from +whence may be inferred, as there is great reason to believe is the case, +that intense frosts seldom take place till the earth is completely +glutted and chilled with water; and hence dry autumns are seldom +followed by rigorous winters. + +January 7th.--Snow driving all the day, which was followed by frost, +sleet, and some snow, till the twelfth, when a prodigious mass +overwhelmed all the works of men, drifting over the tops of the gates, +and filling the hollow lanes. + +On the 14th, the writer was obliged to be much abroad; and thinks he +never before, or since, has encountered such rugged Siberian weather. +Many of the narrow roads are now filled above the tops of the hedges; +through which the snow was driven in most romantic and grotesque shapes, +so striking to the imagination as not to be seen without wonder and +pleasure. The poultry dared not stir out of their roosting-places; for +cocks and hens are so dazzled and confounded by the glare of the snow, +that they would soon perish without assistance. The hares also lay +sullenly in their seats, and would not move till compelled by hunger; +being conscious, poor animals, that the drifts and heaps treacherously +betray their footsteps, and prove fatal to numbers of them. + +From the 14th, the snow continued to increase, and began to stop the +road-waggons and coaches, which could no longer keep in their regular +stages; and especially on the western roads, where the fall appears to +have been greater than in the south. The company at Bath, that wanted to +attend the Queen's birthday, were strangely incommoded; many carriages +of persons who got, in their way to town from Bath, as far as +Marlborough, after strange embarrassment, here came to a dead stop. The +ladies fretted, and offered large rewards to labourers if they would +shovel them a track to London; but the relentless heaps of snow were too +bulky to be removed; and so the 18th passed over, leaving the company in +very uncomfortable circumstances at the _Castle_ and other inns. + +On the 20th, the sun shone out for the first time since the frost +began; a circumstance that has been remarked before, much in favour +of vegetation. All this time the cold was not very intense, for the +thermometer stood at 29°, 28° 25° and thereabout; but on the 21st it +descended to 20°. The birds now began to be in a very pitiable and +starving condition. Tamed by the season, sky-larks settled in the +streets of towns, because they saw the ground was bare; rooks frequented +dung-hills close to houses; hares now came into men's gardens, and +scraping away the snow, devoured such plants as they could find. + +On the 22nd, the author had occasion to go to London; through a sort +of Laplandian scene very wild and grotesque indeed. But the metropolis +itself exhibited a still more singular appearance than the country; for, +being bedded deep in snow, the pavement could not be touched by the +wheels or the horses' feet, so that the carriages ran about without the +least noise. Such an exemption from din and clatter was strange, but not +pleasant; it seemed to convey an uncomfortable idea of desolation. + +On the 27th, much snow fell all day, and in the evening the frost became +very intense. At South Lambeth, for the four following nights, the +thermometer fell to 11°, 7°, 0°, 6°; and at Selborne to 7°, 6°, 10°; and +on the 31st of January, just before sunrise, with rime on the trees, and +on the tube of the glass, the quicksilver sunk exactly to zero, being +32° below freezing point; but by eleven in the morning, though in the +shade, it sprung up to 16-1/2°--a most unusual degree of cold this +for the south of England. During these four nights the cold was so +penetrating that it occasioned ice in warm and protected chambers; and +in the day the wind was so keen that persons of robust constitutions +could scarcely endure to face it. The Thames was at once so frozen over, +both above and below the bridge, that crowds ran about on the ice. The +streets were now strangely encumbered with snow, which crumbled and trod +dusty, mid, turning gray, resembled bay-salt; what had fallen on the +roofs was so perfectly dry, that from first to last it lay twenty-six +days on the houses in the city--a longer time than had been remembered +by the oldest housekeepers living. According to all appearances, we +might now have expected the continuance of this rigorous weather for +weeks to come, since every night increased in severity; but behold, +without any apparent on the 1st of February a thaw took place, and some +rain followed before night; making good the observation, that frosts +often go off, as it were, at once, without any gradual declension of +cold. On the 2nd of February, the thaw persisted; and on the 3rd, swarms +of little insects were frisking and sporting in a court-yard at South +Lambeth, as if they had felt no frost. Why the juices in the small +bodies and smaller limbs of such minute beings are not frozen, is a +matter of curious inquiry. + + REV. GILBERT WHITE. + + + +[Note: _Rev. Gilbert White_ (1720-1793), author of the 'Natural History +of Selborne,' one of the most charming books on natural history in the +language.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +A PORTENTOUS SUMMER. + + +The, summer of the year 1783 was an amazing and portentous one, and full +of horrible phenomena; for, besides the alarming meteors and tremendous +thunder and storms that affrighted and distressed the different counties +of this kingdom, the peculiar haze, or smoky fog, that prevailed for +many weeks in this island, and in every part of Europe, and even beyond +its limits, was a most extraordinary appearance, unlike anything known +within the memory of man. By my journal I find that I had noticed this +strange occurrence from June 23 to July 20 inclusive, during which +period the wind varied to every quarter, without making any alteration +in the air. The sun, at noon, looked as black as a clouded moon, and +shed a rust-coloured feruginous light on the ground and floors of +rooms, but was particularly lurid and blood-coloured at rising and +setting. All the time the heat was so intense that butchers' meat could +hardly be eaten the day after it was killed; and the flies swarmed so +in the lanes and hedges that they rendered the horses half frantic, and +riding irksome. The country-people began to look with a superstitious +awe at the red, lowering aspect of the sun; and, indeed, there was +reason for the most enlightened person to be apprehensive, for all the +while Calabria, and part of the isle of Sicily, were torn and convulsed +with earthquakes; and about that juncture a volcano sprang out of the +sea on the coast of Norway. On this occasion Milton's noble simile of +the sun, in his first book of 'Paradise Lost,' frequently occurred to +my mind; and it is indeed particularly applicable, because, towards the +end, it alludes to a superstitious kind of dread with which the minds of +men are always impressed by such strange and unusual phenomena:-- + + + "As when the sun, new risen, + Looks through the horizontal, misty air + Shorn of his beams; or, from behind the moon. + In dim eclipse, disastrous twilight sheds + On half the nations, and with fear of change + Perplexes monarchs." + + REV. GILBERT WHITE. + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +A THUNDERSTORM. + +On the 5th of June, 1784, the thermometer in the morning being at 64, +and at noon at 70, the barometer at 29.6 1/2, and the wind north, I +observed a blue mist, smelling strongly of sulphur, hang along our +sloping woods, and seeming to indicate that thunder was at hand. I was +called in about two in the afternoon, and so missed seeing the gathering +of the clouds in the north, which they who were abroad assured me had +something uncommon in its appearance. At about a quarter after two the +storm began in the parish of Hartley, moving slowly from north to south; +and from thence it came over Norton Farm and so to Grange Farm, both in +this parish. It began with vast drops of rain, which were soon succeeded +by round hail, and then by convex pieces of ice, which measured three +inches in girth. Had it been as extensive as it was violent, and of +any continuance (for it was very short), it must have ravaged all the +neighbourhood. In the parish of Hartley it did some damage to one farm; +but Norton, which lay in the centre of the storm, was greatly injured; +as was Grange, which lay next to it. It did but just reach to the middle +of the village, where the hail broke my north windows, and all my garden +lights and hand-glasses, and many of my neighbours' windows. The extent +of the storm was about two miles in length, and one in breadth. We were +just sitting down to dinner; but were soon diverted from our repast by +the clattering of tiles and the jingling of glass. There fell at the +same time prodigious torrents of rain on the farm above mentioned, which +occasioned a flood as violent as it was sudden, doing great damage to +the meadows and fallows by deluging the one and washing away the soil of +the other. The hollow lane towards Alton was so torn and disordered as +not to be passable till mended, rocks being removed that weighed two +hundredweight. Those that saw the effect which the great hail had on the +ponds and pools, say that the dashing of the water made an extraordinary +appearance, the froth and spray standing up in the air three feet above +the surface. The rushing and roaring of the hail, as it approached, was +truly tremendous. + +Though the clouds at South Lambeth, near London, were at that juncture +thin and light, and no storm was in sight, nor within hearing, yet the +air was strongly electric; for the bells of an electric machine at that +place rang repeatedly, and fierce sparks were discharged. + + REV. GILBERT WHITE. + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +CHARACTER OF SIR WALTER SCOTT. + + +About half-past one P.M. on the 21st of September, 1832, Sir Walter +Scott breathed his last, in the presence of all his children. It was +a beautiful day--so warm, that every window was wide open--and so +perfectly still, that the sound of all others most delicious to his ear, +the gentle ripple of the Tweed over its pebbles, was distinctly audible +as we knelt around the bed, and his eldest son kissed and closed his +eyes. No sculptor ever modelled a more majestic image of repose. + +It will, I presume, be allowed that no human character, which we have +the opportunity of studying with equal minuteness, had fewer faults +mixed up in its texture. The grand virtue of fortitude, the basis of all +others, was never displayed in higher perfection than in him; and +it was, as perhaps true courage always is, combined with an equally +admirable spirit of kindness and humanity. His pride, if we must call it +so, undebased by the least tincture of mere vanity, was intertwined with +a most exquisite charity, and was not inconsistent with true humility. +If ever the principle of kindliness was incarnated in a mere man, it +was in him; and real kindliness can never be but modest. In the social +relations of life, where men are most effectually tried, no spot can be +detected in him. He was a patient, dutiful, reverent son; a generous, +compassionate, tender husband; an honest, careful, and most affectionate +father. Never was a more virtuous or a happier fireside than his. The +influence of his mighty genius shadowed it imperceptibly; his calm good +sense, and his angelic sweetness of heart and temper, regulated and +softened a strict but paternal discipline. His children, as they grew +up, understood by degrees the high privilege of their birth; but the +profoundest sense of his greatness never disturbed their confidence in +his goodness. The buoyant play of his spirits made him sit young among +the young; parent and son seemed to live in brotherhood together; +and the chivalry of his imagination threw a certain air of courteous +gallantry into his relations with his daughters, which gave a very +peculiar grace to the fondness of their intercourse. + +Perhaps the most touching evidence of the lasting tenderness of his +early domestic feelings was exhibited to his executors, when they opened +his repositories in search of his testament, the evening after his +burial. On lifting up his desk we found arranged in careful order a +series of little objects, which had obviously been so placed there that +his eye might rest on them every morning before he began his tasks. +These were the old-fashioned boxes that had garnished his mother's +toilet when he, a sickly child, slept in her dressing-room; the silver +taper-stand which the young advocate had bought for her with his first +five-guinea fee; a row of small packets inscribed with her hand, and +containing the hair of those of her offspring that had died before her; +his father's snuff-box and pencil-case; and more things of the like +sort, recalling the "old familiar faces." The same feeling was apparent +in all the arrangement of his private apartment. Pictures of his father +and mother were the only ones in his dressing-room. The clumsy antique +cabinets that stood there--things of a very different class from the +beautiful and costly productions in the public rooms below--had all +belonged to the furniture of George's Square. Even his father's rickety +washing-stand, with all its cramped appurtenances, though exceedingly +unlike what a man of his very scrupulous habits would have selected in +these days, kept its ground. Such a son and parent could hardly fail +in any of the other social relations. No man was a firmer or more +indefatigable friend. I know not that he ever lost one; and a few +with whom, during the energetic middle stage of life, from political +differences or other accidental circumstances, he lived less familiarly, +had all gathered round him, and renewed the full warmth of early +affection in his later days. There was enough to dignify the connexion +in their eyes; but nothing to chill it on either side. The imagination +that so completely mastered him when he chose to give her the rein, was +kept under most determined control when any of the positive obligations +of active life came into question. A high and pure sense of duty +presided over whatever he had to do as a citizen and a magistrate; and, +as a landlord, he considered his estate as an extension of his hearth. + + J. LOCKHART. + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +MUMPS'S HALL. + + +There is, or rather I should say there _was_, a little inn, called +Mumps's Hall--that is, being interpreted, Beggar's Hotel--near to +Gilsland, which had not then attained its present fame as a Spa. It +was a hedge alehouse, where the Border farmers of either country often +stopped to refresh themselves and their nags, in their way to and from +the fairs and trysts in Cumberland, and especially those who came from +or went to Scotland, through a barren and lonely district, without +either road or pathway, emphatically called the Waste of Bewcastle. At +the period when the adventure about to be described is supposed to have +taken place, there were many instances of attacks by freebooters, on +those who travelled through this wild district; and Mumps's Hall had +a bad reputation for harbouring the banditti who committed such +depredations. + +An old and sturdy yeoman belonging to the Scottish side, by surname an +Armstrong or Elliot, but well known by his sobriquet of Fighting Charlie +of Liddesdale, and still remembered for the courage he displayed in +the frequent frays which took place on the Border fifty or sixty years +since, had the following adventure in the Waste, one of many which gave +its character to the place:-- + +Charlie had been at Stagshaw-bank fair, had sold his sheep or cattle, or +whatever he had brought to market, and was on his return to Liddesdale. +There were then no country banks where cash could be deposited, and +bills received instead, which greatly encouraged robbery in that wild +country, as the objects of plunder were usually fraught with gold. The +robbers had spies in the fair, by means of whom they generally knew +whose purse was best stocked, and who took a lonely and desolate road +homeward--those, in short, who were best worth robbing, and likely to be +most easily robbed. + +All this Charlie knew full well; but he had a pair of excellent pistols, +and a dauntless heart. He stopped at Mumps's Hall, notwithstanding the +evil character of the place. His horse was accommodated where it might +have the necessary rest and feed of corn; and the landlady used all the +influence in her power to induce him to stop all night. The landlord was +from home, she said, and it was ill passing the Waste, as twilight must +needs descend on him before he gained the Scottish side, which was +reckoned the safest. But fighting Charlie, though he suffered himself to +be detained later than was prudent, did not account Mumps's Hall a safe +place to quarter in during the night. He tore himself away, therefore, +from Meg's good fare and kind words, and mounted his nag, having first +examined his pistols, and tried by the ramrod whether the charge +remained in them. + +He proceeded a mile or two, at a round trot, when, as the Waste +stretched black before him, apprehensions began to awaken in his mind, +partly arising out of Meg's unusual kindness, which he could not help +thinking had rather a suspicious appearance. He therefore resolved to +reload his pistols, lest the powder had become damp; but what was his +surprise, when he drew the charge, to find neither powder nor ball, +while each barrel had been carefully filled with _tow_, up to the space +which the loading had occupied! and, the priming of the weapons being +left untouched, nothing but actually drawing and examining the charge +could have discovered the inefficiency of his arms till the fatal minute +arrived when their services were required. Charlie reloaded his pistols +with care and accuracy, having now no doubt that he was to be waylaid +and assaulted. He was not far engaged in the Waste, which was then, and +is now, traversed only by such routes as are described in the text, when +two or three fellows, disguised and variously armed, started from a +moss-hag, while, by a glance behind him (for, marching, as the Spaniard +says, with his beard on his shoulder, he reconnoitred in every +direction), Charlie instantly saw retreat was impossible, as other two +stout men appeared behind him at some distance. The Borderer lost not a +moment in taking his resolution, and boldly trotted against his enemies +in front, who called loudly on him to stand and deliver. Charlie spurred +on, and presented his pistol. "A fig for your pistol!" said the foremost +robber, whom Charlie to his dying day protested he believed to have been +the landlord of Mumps's Hall--"A fig for your pistol! I care not a curse +for it."--"Ay, lad," said the deep voice of Fighting Charlie, "but the +_tow's out now_". He had no occasion to utter another word; the rogues, +surprised at finding a man of redoubted courage well armed, instead of +being defenceless, took to the moss in every direction, and he passed on +his way without further molestation. + + SCOTT. + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +THE PORTEOUS MOB. + + +The magistrates, after vain attempts to make themselves heard and +obeyed, possessing no means of enforcing their authority, were +constrained to abandon the field to the rioters, and retreat in all +speed from the showers of missiles that whistled around their ears. + +The passive resistance of the Tolbooth-gate promised to do more to +baffle the purpose of the mob than the active interference of the +magistrates. The heavy sledge-hammers continued to din against it +without intermission, and with a noise which, echoed from the lofty +buildings around the spot, seemed enough to have alarmed the garrison in +the Castle. It was circulated among the rioters that the troops would +march down to disperse them, unless they could execute their purpose +without loss of time; or that even without quitting the fortress, the +garrison might obtain the same end by throwing a bomb or two upon the +street. + +Urged by such motives for apprehension, they eagerly relieved each other +at the labour of assailing the Tolbooth door; yet such was its strength, +that it still defied their efforts. At length, a voice was heard to +pronounce the words, "Try it with fire!" The rioters, with an unanimous +shout, called for combustibles, and as all their wishes seemed to be +instantly supplied, they were soon in possession of two or three empty +tar-barrels. A huge red glaring bonfire speedily arose close to the door +of the prison, sending up a tall column of smoke and flame against +its antique turrets and strongly-grated windows, and illuminating the +ferocious and wild gestures of the rioters who surrounded the place, as +well as the pale and anxious groups of those who, from windows in the +vicinage, watched the progress of this alarming scene. The mob fed the +fire with whatever they could find fit for the purpose. The flames +roared and crackled among the heaps of nourishment piled on the fire, +and a terrible shout soon announced that the door had kindled, and was +in the act of being destroyed. The fire was suffered to decay, but, long +ere it was quite extinguished, the most forward of the rioters rushed, +in their impatience, one after another, over its yet smouldering +remains. Thick showers of sparkles rose high in the air, as man after +man bounded over the glowing embers, and disturbed them in their +passage. It was now obvious to Butler, and all others who were present, +that the rioters would be instantly in possession of their victim, and +have it in their power to work their pleasure upon him, whatever that +might be. + +The unhappy object of this remarkable disturbance had been that day +delivered from the apprehension of a public execution, and his joy was +the greater, as he had some reason to question whether government would +have run the risk of unpopularity by interfering in his favour, after he +had been legally convicted by the verdict of a jury, of a crime so very +obnoxious. Relieved from this doubtful state of mind, his heart was +merry within him, and he thought, in the emphatic words of Scripture on +a similar occasion, that surely the bitterness of death was past. Some +of his friends, however, who had watched the manner and behaviour of +the crowd when they were made acquainted with the reprieve, were of a +different opinion. They augured, from the unusual sternness and silence +with which they bore their disappointment, that the populace nourished +some scheme of sudden and desperate vengeance; and they advised Porteous +to lose no time in petitioning the proper authorities, that he might +be conveyed to the Castle under a sufficient guard, to remain there +in security until his ultimate fate should be determined. Habituated, +however, by his office to overawe the rabble of the city, Porteous could +not suspect them of an attempt so audacious as to storm a strong and +defensible prison; and, despising the advice by which he might have +been saved, he spent the afternoon of the eventful day in giving an +entertainment to some friends who visited him in jail, several of whom, +by the indulgence of the Captain of the Tolbooth, with whom he had +an old intimacy, arising from their official connection, were even +permitted to remain to supper with him, though contrary to the rules of +the jail. + +It was, therefore, in the hour of unalloyed mirth, when this unfortunate +wretch was "full of bread," hot with wine, and high in mis-timed and +ill-grounded confidence, and, alas! with all his sins full blown, +when the first distant shouts of the rioters mingled with the song +of merriment and intemperance. The hurried call of the jailor to the +guests, requiring them instantly to depart, and his yet more hasty +intimation that a dreadful and determined mob had possessed themselves +of the city gates and guard-house, were the first explanation of these +fearful clamours. + +Porteous might, however, have eluded the fury from which the force of +authority could not protect him, had he thought of slipping on some +disguise, and leading the prison along with his guests. It is probable +that the jailor might have connived at his escape, or even that, in the +hurry of this alarming contingency, he might not have observed it. But +Porteous and his friends alike wanted presence of mind to suggest or +execute such a plan of escape. The former hastily fled from a place +where their own safety seemed compromised, and the latter, in a state +resembling stupefaction, awaited in his apartment the termination of the +enterprise of the rioters. The cessation of the clang of the instruments +with which they had at first attempted to force the door, gave him +momentary relief. The flattering hopes that the military had marched +into the city, either from the Castle or from the suburbs, and that the +rioters were intimidated and dispersing, were soon destroyed by the +broad and glaring-light of the flames, which, illuminating through the +grated window every corner of his apartment, plainly showed that the +mob, determined on their fatal purpose, had adopted a means of forcing +entrance equally desperate and certain. + +The sudden glare of light suggested to the stupefied and astonished +object of popular hatred the possibility of concealment or escape. To +rush to the chimney, to ascend it at the risk of suffocation, were the +only means which seem to have occurred to him; but his progress was +speedily stopped by one of those iron gratings, which are, for the sake +of security, usually placed across the vents of buildings designed for +imprisonment. The bars, however, which impeded his farther progress, +served to support him in the situation which he had gained, and he +seized them with the tenacious grasp of one who esteemed himself +clinging to his last hope of existence. The lurid light, which had +filled the apartment, lowered and died away; the sound of shouts was +heard within the walls, and on the narrow and winding stair, which, +cased within one of the turrets, gave access to the upper apartments of +the prison. The huzza of the rioters was answered by a shout wild and +desperate as their own, the cry, namely, of the imprisoned felons, who, +expecting to be liberated in the general confusion, welcomed the mob as +their deliverers. By some of these the apartment of Porteous was +pointed out to his enemies. The obstacle of the lock and bolts was +soon overcome, and from his hiding-place the unfortunate man heard +his enemies search every corner of the apartment, with oaths and +maledictions, which would but shock the reader if we recorded them, but +which served to prove, could it have admitted of doubt, the settled +purpose of soul with which they sought his destruction. + +A place of concealment so obvious to suspicion and scrutiny as that +which Porteous had chosen, could not long screen him from detection. +He was dragged from his lurking place, with a violence which seemed to +argue an intention to put him to death on the spot. More than one weapon +was directed towards him, when one of the rioters, the same whose female +disguise had been particularly noticed by Butler, interfered in an +authoritative tone. "Are ye mad?" he said, "or would ye execute an act +of justice as if it were a crime and a cruelty? This sacrifice will lose +half its savour if we do not offer it at the very horns of the altar. We +will have him die where a murderer should die, on the common gibbet--we +will have him die where he spilled the blood of so many innocents!" + +A loud shout of applause followed the proposal, and the cry, "To the +gallows with the murderer!--to the Grassmarket with him!" echoed on all +hands. + +"Let no man hurt him," continued the speaker; "let him make his peace +with God, if he can; we will not kill both his soul and body." + +"What time did he give better folk for preparing their account?" +answered several voices. "Let us mete to him with the same measure he +measured to them." + +But the opinion of the spokesman better suited the temper of those +he addressed, a temper rather stubborn than impetuous, sedate though +ferocious, and desirous of colouring their cruel and revengeful action +with a show of justice and moderation. + + SCOTT. + + +[Notes: _The Porteous Mob_ occurred in 1736. At the execution of a +smuggler named Wilson, a slight commotion amongst the crowd was made by +Captain Porteous the occasion for ordering his men who were on guard to +fire upon the people. He was tried and sentenced to death, but reprieved +by Queen Caroline, then regent in the absence of George II. The reprieve +was held so unjust by the people that they stormed the Tolbooth, and +hanged Porteous, who was a prisoner there.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +THE PORTEOUS MOB--_continued._ + +The tumult was now transferred from the inside to the outside of the +Tolbooth. The mob had brought their destined victim forth, and were +about to conduct him to the common place of execution, which they had +fixed as the scene of his death. The leader, whom they had distinguished +by the name of Madge Wildfire, had been summoned to assist at the +procession by the impatient shouts of his confederates. + +"I will ensure you five hundred pounds," said the unhappy man, grasping +Wildfire's hand,--"five hundred pounds for to save my life." + +The other answered in the same undertone, and returning his grasp with +one equally convulsive. "Five hundred-height of coined gold should not +save you--Remember Wilson!" + +A deep pause of a minute ensued, when Wildfire added, in a more composed +tone, "Make your peace with Heaven. Where is the clergyman?" + +Butler, who, in great terror and anxiety, had been detained within a +few yards of the Tolbooth door, to wait the event of the search after +Porteous, was now brought forward, and commanded to walk by the +prisoner's side, and to prepare him for immediate death. + +They had suffered the unfortunate Porteous to put on his night-gown +and slippers, as he had thrown off his coat and shoes, in order to +facilitate his attempted escape up the chimney. In this garb he was now +mounted on the hands of two of the rioters, clasped together, so as to +form what is called in Scotland, "The King's Cushion." Butler was placed +close to his side, and repeatedly urged to perform a duty always the +most painful which can be imposed on a clergyman deserving of the name, +and now rendered more so by the peculiar and horrid circumstances of the +criminal's case. Porteous at first uttered some supplications for mercy, +but when he found that there was no chance that these would be attended +to, his military education, and the natural stubbornness of his +disposition, combined to support his spirits. + +The procession now moved forward with a slow and determined pace. It was +enlightened by many blazing links and torches; for the actors of this +work were so far from affecting any secrecy on the occasion, that they +seemed even to court observation. Their principal leaders kept close to +the person of the prisoner, whose pallid yet stubborn features were seen +distinctly by the torch-light, as his person was raised considerably +above the concourse which thronged around him. Those who bore swords, +muskets, and battle-axes, marched on each side, as if forming a regular +guard to the procession. The windows, as they went along, were filled +with the inhabitants, whose slumbers had boon broken by this unusual +disturbance. Some of the spectators muttered accents of encouragement; +but in general they were so much appalled by a sight so strange and +audacious, that they looked on with a sort of stupefied astonishment. No +one offered, by act or word, the slightest interruption. + +The rioters, on their part, continued to act with the same air +of deliberate confidence and security which had marked all their +proceedings. When the object of their resentment dropped one of his +slippers, they stopped, sought for it, and replaced it upon his foot +with great deliberation. As they descended the Bow towards the fatal +spot where they designed to complete their purpose, it was suggested +that there should be a rope kept in readiness. For this purpose the +booth of a man who dealt in cordage was forced open, a coil of rope fit +for their purpose was selected to serve as a halter, and the dealer next +morning found that a guinea had been left on his counter in exchange; so +anxious were the perpetrators of this daring action to show that they +meditated not the slightest wrong or infraction of law, excepting so far +so as Porteous was himself concerned. + +Leading, or carrying along with them, in this determined and regular +manner, the object of their vengeance, they at length reached the place +of common execution, the scene of his crime, and destined spot of +his sufferings. Several of the rioters (if they should not rather be +described as conspirators) endeavoured to remove the stone which filled +up the socket in which the end of the fatal tree was sunk when it +was erected for its fatal purpose; others sought for the means of +constructing a temporary gibbet, the place in which the gallows itself +was deposited being reported too secure to be forced, without much loss +of time. Butler endeavoured to avail himself of the delay afforded by +these circumstances, to turn the people from their desperate design. +"For God's sake," he exclaimed, "remember it is the image of your +Creator which you are about to deface in the person of this unfortunate +man! Wretched as he is, and wicked as he may be, he has a share in every +promise of Scripture, and you cannot destroy him in impenitence without +blotting his name from the Book of Life--Do not destroy soul and body; +give time for preparation." + +"What time had they," returned a stern voice, "whom he murdered on this +very spot?--The laws both of God and man call for his death." + +"But what, my friends," insisted Butler, with a generous disregard to +his own safety--"what hath constituted you his judges?" + +"We are not his judges," replied the same person; "he has been already +judged and condemned by lawful authority. We are those whom Heaven, and +our righteous anger, have stirred up to execute judgment, when a corrupt +government would have protected a murderer." + +"I am none," said the unfortunate Porteous: "that which you charge upon me +fell out in self-defence, in the lawful exercise of my duty." + +"Away with him--away with him!" was the general cry. "Why do you trifle +away time in making a gallows?--that dyester's pole is good enough for +the homicide." + +The unhappy man was forced to his fate with remorseless rapidity. +Butler, separated from him by the press, escaped the last horrors of +his struggles. Unnoticed by those who had hitherto detained him as a +prisoner, he fled from the fatal spot, without much caring in what +direction his course lay. A loud shout proclaimed the stern delight with +which the agents of this deed regarded its completion. Butler, then, +at the opening into the low street called the Cowgate, cast back a +terrified glance, and, by the red and dusky light of the torches, he +could discern a figure wavering and struggling as it hung suspended +above the heads of the multitude, and could even observe men striking at +it with their Lochaberaxes and partisans. The sight was of a nature to +double his horror, and to add wings to his flight. + + SCOTT. + + + + + * * * * * + + + + + MAZEPPA. + + + "'Bring forth the horse!'--the horse was brought; + In truth, he was a noble steed, + A Tartar of the Ukraine breed, + Who look'd as though the speed of thought + Were in his limbs; but he was wild, + Wild as the wild deer, and untaught, + With spur and bridle undefiled-- + 'T was but a day he had been caught; + And snorting, with erected mane, + And struggling fiercely, but in vain, + In the full foam of wrath and dread + To me the desert-born was led: + They bound me on, that menial throng; + Upon his back with many a thong; + Then loosed him with a sudden lash-- + Away!--away!--and on we dash! + Torrents less rapid and less rash. + + * * * * * + + "Away, away, my steed and I, + Upon the pinions of the wind, + All human dwellings left behind; + We sped like meteors through the sky, + When with its crackling sound the night + Is chequer'd with the northern light: + Town--village--none were on our track. + But a wild plain of far extent, + And bounded by a forest black; + And, save the scarce seen battlement + On distant heights of some stronghold, + Against the Tartars built of old, + No trace of man. The year before + A Turkish army had march'd o'er; + And where the Spahi's hoof hath trod, + The verdure flies the bloody sod: + The sky was dull, and dim, and gray, + And a low breeze crept moaning by-- + I could have answered with a sigh-- + But fast we fled, away, away, + And I could neither sigh nor pray; + And my cold sweat-drops fell like rain + Upon the courser's bristling mane; + But, snorting still with rage and fear, + He flew upon his far career: + At times I almost thought, indeed, + He must have slacken'd in his speed; + But no--my bound and slender frame + Was nothing to his angry might, + And merely like a spur became; + Each motion which I made to free + My swoln limbs from their agony + Increased his fury and affright: + I tried my voice,--'t was faint and low. + But yet he swerved as from a blow; + And, starting to each accent, sprang + As from a sudden trumpet's clang: + Meantime my cords were wet with gore, + Which, oozing through my limbs, ran o'er; + And in my tongue the thirst became + A something fiercer far than flame. + + "We near'd the wild wood--'t was so wide, + I saw no bounds on either side; + 'T was studded with old sturdy trees, + That bent not to the roughest breeze + Which howls down from Siberia's waste, + And strips the forest in its haste,-- + But these were few and far between, + Set thick with shrubs more young and green. + Luxuriant with their annual leaves, + Ere strown by those autumnal eves + That nip the forest's foliage dead, + Discolour'd with a lifeless red, + Which stands thereon like stiffen'd gore + Upon the slain when battle's o'er, + And some long winter's night hath shed + Its frost o'er every tombless head, + So cold and stark the raven's beak + May peck unpierced each frozen cheek: + 'T was a wild waste of underwood, + And here and there a chestnut stood, + The strong oak, and the hardy pine; + But far apart--and well it were, + Or else a different lot were mine-- + The boughs gave way, and did not tear + My limbs; and I found strength to bear + My wounds, already scarr'd with cold; + My bonds forbade to loose my hold. + We rustled through the leaves like wind, + Left shrubs, and trees, and wolves behind; + By night I heard them on the track, + Their troop came hard upon our back, + With their long gallop, which can tire + The hound's deep hate, and hunter's fire: + Where'er we flew they follow'd on, + Nor left us with the morning sun. + Behind I saw them, scarce a rood, + At day-break winding through the wood, + And through the night had heard their feet + Their stealing, rustling step repeat. + + * * * * * + + "The wood was past; 'twas more than noon, + But chill the air, although in June; + Or it might be my veins ran cold-- + Prolong'd endurance tames the bold; + And I was then not what I seem, + But headlong as a wintry stream, + And wore my feelings out before + I well could count their causes o'er: + And what with fury, fear, and wrath, + The tortures which beset my path, + Cold, hunger, sorrow, shame, distress. + Thus bound in nature's nakedness; + Sprung from a race whose rising blood, + When stirr'd beyond its calmer mood, + And trodden hard upon, is like + The rattle-snake's, in act to strike, + What marvel if this worn-out trunk + Beneath its woes a moment sunk? + The earth gave way, the skies roll'd round. + I seem'd to sink upon the ground; + But err'd, for I was fastly bound. + My heart turn'd sick, my brain grew sore. + And throbb'd awhile, then beat no more: + The skies spun like a mighty wheel; + I saw the trees like drunkards reel + And a slight flash sprang o'er my eyes, + Which saw no farther: he who dies + Can die no more than then I died. + O'ertortured by that ghastly ride, + I felt the blackness come and go. + + "My thoughts came back; where was I? + Cold, + And numb, and giddy: pulse by pulse + Life reassumed its lingering hold, + And throb by throb,--till grown a pang + Which for a moment would convulse, + My blood reflow'd, though thick and chill; + My ear with uncouth noises rang, + My heart began once more to thrill; + My sight return'd, though dim; alas! + And thicken'd, as it were, with glass. + Methought the dash of waves was nigh; + There was a gleam too of the sky, + Studded with stars;--it is no dream; + The wild horse swims the wilder stream! + The bright broad river's gushing tide + Sleeps, winding onward, far and wide, + And we are half-way, struggling o'er + To yon unknown and silent shore. + The waters broke my hollow trance, + And with a temporary strength + My stiffen'd limbs were rebaptized. + My courser's broad breast proudly braves, + And dashes off the ascending waves. + We reach the slippery shore at length, + A haven I but little prized, + For all behind was dark and drear, + And all before was night and fear. + How many hours of night or day + In those suspended pangs I lay. + I could not tell; I scarcely knew + If this were human breath I drew. + + "With glossy skin and dripping mane, + And reeling limbs, and reeking flank, + The wild steed's sinewy nerves still strain + Up the repelling bank. + We gain the top: a boundless plain + Spreads through the shadow of the night, + And onward, onward, onward, seems, + Like precipices in our dreams + To stretch beyond the sight: + And here and there a speck of white, + Or scatter'd spot of dusky green. + In masses broke into the light. + As rose the moon upon my right: + But nought distinctly seen + In the dim waste would indicate + The omen of a cottage gate; + No twinkling taper from afar + Stood like a hospitable star: + Not even an ignis-fatuus rose + To make him merry with my woes: + That very cheat had cheer'd me then! + Although detected, welcome still, + Reminding me, through every ill, + Of the abodes of men. + + "Onward we went--but slack and slow; + His savage force at length o'erspent, + The drooping courser, faint and low, + All feebly foaming went. + A sickly infant had had power + To guide him forward in that hour; + But useless all to me: + His new-born tameness nought avail'd-- + My limbs were bound; my force had fail'd, + Perchance, had they been free. + With feeble effort still I tried + To rend the bonds so starkly tied, + But still it was in vain; + My limbs were only wrung the more, + And soon the idle strife gave o'er, + Which but prolonged their pain: + The dizzy race seem'd almost done, + Although no goal was nearly won: + Rome streaks announced the coming sun-- + How slow, alas! he came! + Methought that mist of dawning gray + Would never dapple into day; + How heavily it roll'd away-- + Before the eastern flame + Rose crimson, and deposed the stars, + And call'd the radiance from their cars, + And fill'd the earth, from his deep throne. + "Up rose the sun; the mists were curl'd + Back from the solitary world + Which lay around, behind, before. + What booted it to traverse o'er + Plain, forest, river? Man nor brute, + Nor dint of hoof, nor print of foot, + Lay in the wild luxuriant soil; + No sign of travel, none of toil; + The very air was mute; + And not an insect's shrill small horn. + Nor matin bird's new voice was borne + From herb nor thicket. Many a werst, + Panting as if his heart would burst. + The weary brute still stagger'd on: + And still we were--or seem'd--alone. + At length, while reeling on our way. + Methought I heard a courser neigh, + From out yon tuft of blackening firs. + Is it the wind those branches stirs? + No, no! from out the forest prance + A trampling troop; I see them come! + In one vast squadron they advance! + I strove to cry--my lips were dumb. + The steeds rush on in plunging pride; + But where are they the reins to guide + A thousand horse, and none to ride! + With flowing tail, and flying mane, + Wide nostrils never stretch'd by pain, + Mouths bloodless to the bit of rein, + And feet that iron never shod, + And flanks unscarr'd by spur or rod, + A thousand horse, the wild, the free, + Like waves that follow o'er the sea, + Came thickly thundering on, + As if our faint approach to meet; + The sight re-nerved my courser's feet, + A moment staggering, feebly fleet, + A moment, with a faint low neigh, + He answer'd, and then fell; + With gasps and glaring eyes he lay, + And reeking limbs immoveable, + His first and last career is done! + On came the troop--they saw him stoop, + They saw me strangely bound along + His back with many a bloody thong: + They stop, they start, they snuff the air, + Gallop a moment here and there, + Approach, retire, wheel round and round, + Then plunging back with sudden bound, + Headed by one black mighty steed, + Who seem'd the patriarch of his breed, + Without a single speck or hair + Of white upon his shaggy hide; + They snort, they foam, neigh, swerve aside. + And backward to the forest fly, + By instinct, from a human eye. + They left me there to my despair, + Link'd to the dead and stiffening wretch, + Whose lifeless limbs beneath me stretch, + Believed from that unwonted weight, + From whence I could not extricate + Nor him nor me--and there we lay, + The dying on the dead! + I little deem'd another day + Would see my houseless, helpless head. + + BYRON. + + + +[Notes: _Mazeppa_ (1645-1709) was at first in the service of the King +of Poland, but on account of a charge brought against him suffered the +penalty described in the poem. He afterwards joined the Cossacks and +became their leader; was in favour for a time with Peter the Great; but +finally joined Charles XII., and died soon after the battle of Pultowa +(1709), in which Charles was defeated by Peter. + + +_Ukraine_ ("a frontier"), a district lying on the borders of Poland and +Russia. + + +_Werst_. A Russian measure of distance.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +JOSIAH WEDGWOOD. + + +We make our first introduction to Wedgwood about the year 1741, as the +youngest of a family of thirteen children, and as put to earn his bread, +at eleven years of age, in the trade of his father, and in the branch +of a thrower. Then comes the well-known small-pox: the settling of the +dregs of the disease in the lower part of the leg: and the amputation of +the limb, rendering him lame for life. It is not often that we have such +palpable occasion to record our obligations to the small-pox. But, in +the wonderful ways of Providence, that disease, which came to him as +a two-fold scourge, was probably the occasion of his subsequent +excellence. It prevented him from growing up to the active vigorous +English workman, possessed of all his limbs, and knowing right well the +use of them; it put him upon considering whether, as he could not be +that, he might not be something else, and something greater. It sent his +mind inwards; it drove him to meditate upon the laws and secrets of his +art. The result was, that he arrived at a perception and a grasp of them +which might, perhaps, have been envied, certainly have been owned, by an +Athenian potter. Relentless criticism has long since torn to pieces the +old legend of King Numa, receiving in a cavern, from the Nymph Egeria, +the laws that were to govern Rome. But no criticism can shake the record +of that illness and mutilation of the boy Josiah Wedgwood, which made +for him a cavern of his bedroom, and an oracle of his own inquiring, +searching, meditative, and fruitful mind. + +From those early days of suffering, weary perhaps to him as they went +by, but bright surely in the retrospect both to him and us, a mark seems +at once to have been set upon his career. But those, who would dwell +upon his history, have still to deplore that many of the materials are +wanting. It is not creditable to his country or his art, that the Life +of Wedgwood should still remain unwritten. Here is a man, who, in the +well-chosen words of his epitaph, "converted a rude and inconsiderable +manufacture into an elegant art, and an important branch of national +commerce." Here is a man, who, beginning as it were from zero, and +unaided by the national or royal gifts which were found necessary to +uphold the glories of Sèvres, of Chelsea, and of Dresden, produced works +truer, perhaps, to the inexorable laws of art, than the fine fabrics +that proceeded from those establishments, and scarcely less attractive +to the public taste. Here is a man, who found his business cooped up +within a narrow valley by the want of even tolerable communications, +and who, while he devoted his mind to the lifting that business from +meanness, ugliness, and weakness, to the highest excellence of material +and form, had surplus energy enough to take a leading part in great +engineering works like the Grand Trunk Canal from the Mersey to the +Trent; which made the raw material of his industry abundant and cheap, +which supplied a vent for the manufactured article, and opened for it +materially a way to the outer world. Lastly, here is a man who found +his country dependent upon others for its supplies of all the finer +earthenware; but who, by his single strength, reversed the inclination +of the scales, and scattered thickly the productions of his factory over +all the breadth of the continent of Europe. In travelling from Paris to +St. Petersburg, from Amsterdam to the furthest point of Sweden, from +Dunkirk to the southern extremity of France, one is served at every inn +from English earthenware. The same article adorns the tables of Spain, +Portugal, and Italy; it provides the cargoes of ships to the East +Indies, the West Indies, and America. + + _Speech by_ MR. GLADSTONE. + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +THE CRIMEAN WAR. + + +There is one point upon which I could have wished that the noble Lord +had also touched--I know there were so many subjects that he could +not avoid touching that I share the admiration of the House at the +completeness with which he seemed to have mastered all his themes; but +when the noble Lord recalled to our recollection the deeds of admirable +valour and of heroic conduct which have been achieved upon the heights +of Alma, of Balaklava, and of Inkermann, I could have wished that he had +also publicly recognized that the deeds of heroism in this campaign had +not been merely confined to the field of battle. We ought to remember +the precious lives given to the pestilence of Varna and to the +inhospitable shores of the Black Sea; these men, in my opinion, were +animated by as heroic a spirit as those who have yielded up their lives +amid the flash of artillery and the triumphant sound of trumpets. No, +Sir, language cannot do justice to the endurance of our troops under the +extreme and terrible privations which circumstances have obliged them to +endure. The high spirit of an English gentleman might have sustained him +under circumstances which he could not have anticipated to encounter; +but the same proud patience has been found among the rank and file. And +it is these moral qualities that have contributed as much as others +apparently more brilliant to those great victories which we are now +acknowledging. + +Sir, the noble Lord has taken a wise and gracious course in combining +with the thanks which he is about to propose to the British army and +navy the thanks also of the House of Commons to the army of our allies. +Sir, that alliance which has now for some time prevailed between the two +great countries of France and Britain has in peace been productive +of advantage, but it is the test to which it has been put by recent +circumstances that, in my opinion, will tend more than any other cause +to confirm and consolidate that intimate union. That alliance, Sir, is +one that does not depend upon dynasties or diplomacy. It is one which +has been sanctioned by names to which we all look up with respect or +with feelings even of a higher character. The alliance between France +and England was inaugurated by the imperial mind of Elizabeth, and +sanctioned by the profound sagacity of Cromwell; it exists now not more +from feelings of mutual interest than from feelings of mutual respect, +and I believe it will be maintained by a noble spirit of emulation. + +Sir, there is still another point upon which, although with hesitation, +I will advert for a moment. I am distrustful of my own ability to deal +becomingly with a theme on which the noble Lord so well touched; but +nevertheless I feel that I must refer to it. I was glad to hear from +the noble Lord that he intends to propose a vote of condolence with the +relatives of those who have fallen in this contest. Sir, we have already +felt, even in this chamber of public assemblage, how bitter have +been the consequences of this war. We cannot throw our eyes over the +accustomed benches, where we miss many a gallant and genial face, +without feeling our hearts ache, our spirits sadden, and even our +eyes moisten. But if that be our feeling here when we miss the long +companions of our public lives and labours, what must be the anguish +and desolation which now darken so many hearths! Never, Sir, has the +youthful blood of this country been so profusely lavished as it has been +in this contest,--never has a greater sacrifice been made, and for ends +which more fully sanctify the sacrifice. But we can hardly hope now, in +the greenness of the wound, that even these reflections can serve as a +source of solace. Young women who have become widows almost as soon as +they had become wives--mothers who have lost not only their sons, but +the brethren of those sons--heads of families who have seen abruptly +close all their hopes of an hereditary line--these are pangs which even +the consciousness of duty performed, which even the lustre of glory won, +cannot easily or speedily alleviate and assuage. But let us indulge at +least in the hope, in the conviction, that the time will come when +the proceedings of this evening may be to such persons a source of +consolation--when sorrow for the memory of those that are departed may +be mitigated by the recollection that their death is at least associated +with imperishable deeds, with a noble cause, and with a nation's +gratitude. + + _Speech by_ MR. DISRAELI. + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +NATIONAL MORALITY. + + +I believe there is no permanent greatness to a nation except it be based +upon morality. I do not care for military greatness or military renown. +I care for the condition of the people among whom I live. There is no +man in England who is less likely to speak irreverently of the Crown and +Monarchy of England than I am; but crowns, coronets, mitres, military +display, the pomp of war, wide colonies, and a huge empire, are, in my +view, all trifles light as air, and not worth considering, unless with +them you can have a fair share of comfort, contentment, and happiness +among the great body of the people. Palaces, baronial castles, great +halls, stately mansions, do not make a nation. The nation in every +country dwells in the cottage; and unless the light of your Constitution +can shine there, unless the beauty of your legislation and the +excellence of your statesmanship are impressed there on the feelings and +condition of the people, rely upon it you have yet to learn the duties +of government. + +I have not, as you have observed, pleaded that this country should +remain without adequate and scientific means of defence. I acknowledge +it to be the duty of your statesmen, acting upon the known opinions and +principles of ninety-nine out of every hundred persons in the country, +at all times, with all possible moderation, but with all possible +efficiency, to take steps which shall preserve order within and on +the confines of your kingdom. But I shall repudiate and denounce +the expenditure of every shilling, the engagement of every man, the +employment of every ship which has no object but intermeddling in the +affairs of other countries, and endeavouring to extend the boundaries +of an Empire which is already large enough to satisfy the greatest +ambition, and I fear is much too large for the highest statesmanship to +which any man has yet attained. + +The most ancient of profane historians has told us that the Scythians +of his time were a very warlike people, and that they elevated an old +cimeter upon a platform as a symbol of Mars, for to Mars alone, I +believe, they built altars and offered sacrifices. To this cimeter they +offered sacrifices of horses and cattle, the main wealth of the country, +and more costly sacrifices than to all the rest of their gods. I often +ask myself whether we are at all advanced in one respect beyond those +Scythians. What are our contributions to charity, to education, to +morality, to religion, to justice, and to civil government, when +compared with the wealth we expend in sacrifices to the old cimeter? Two +nights ago I addressed in this hall a vast assembly composed to a great +extent of your countrymen who have no political power, who are at work +from the dawn of the day to the evening, and who have therefore limited +means of informing themselves on these great subjects. Now I am +privileged to speak to a somewhat different audience. You represent +those of your great community who have a more complete education, who +have on some points greater intelligence, and in whose hands reside the +power and influence of the district. I am speaking, too, within the +hearing of those whose gentle nature, whose finer instincts, whose purer +minds, have not suffered as some of us have suffered in the turmoil +and strife of life. You can mould opinion, you can create political +power,--you cannot think a good thought on this subject and communicate +it to your neighbours,--you cannot make these points topics of +discussion in your social circles and more general meetings, without +affecting sensibly and speedily the course which the Government of your +country will pursue. May I ask you, then, to believe, as I do most +devoutly believe, that the moral law was not written for men alone in +their individual character, but that it was written as well for nations, +and for nations great as this of which we are citizens. If nations +reject and deride that moral law, there is a penalty which will +inevitably follow. It may not come at once, it may not come in our +lifetime; but, rely upon it, the great Italian is not a poet only, but a +prophet, when he says-- + + "The sword of heaven is not in haste to smite, + Nor yet doth linger." + +We have experience, we have beacons, we have landmarks enough. We +know what the past has cost us, we know how much and how far we have +wandered, but we are not left without a guide. It is true, we have not, +as an ancient people had, Urim and Thummim--those oraculous gems on +Aaron's breast--from which to take counsel, but we have the unchangeable +and eternal principles of the moral law to guide us, and only so far as +we walk by that guidance can we be permanently a great nation, or our +people a happy people. + + _Speech by_ MR. BRIGHT. + + + + + * * * * * + + + + + HYMN TO DIANA. + + + Queen and huntress, chaste and fair, + Now the sun is laid to sleep, + Seated in thy silver chair. + State in wonted manner keep. + Hesperus entreats thy light, + Goddess excellently bright! + + Earth, let not thy envious shade + Dare itself to interpose; + Cynthia's shining orb was made + Heaven to clear, when day did close. + Bless us then with wishèd sight, + Goddess excellently bright! + + Lay thy bow of pearl apart, + And thy crystal-shining quiver: + Give unto the flying hart + Space to breathe how short soever; + Thou that mak'st a day of night, + Goddess excellently bright! + + BEN JONSON. + + + +[Notes: _Ben Jonson_ (1574-1637), poet and dramatist; the contemporary +and friend of Shakespeare, with more than his learning, but far less +than his genius and imagination.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + + L'ALLEGRO. + + + Hence, loathed Melancholy, + Of Cerberus and blackest midnight born, + In Stygian cave forlorn, + 'Mongst horrid shapes, and shrieks, and sights + unholy! + Find out some uncouth cell, + Where brooding darkness spreads his jealous wings, + And the night-raven sings; + There, under ebon shades, and low-brow'd rocks, + As ragged as thy locks, + In dark Cimmerian desert ever dwell. + But come, thou goddess fair and free, + In heaven yclep'd Euphrosyne, + And by men, heart-easing Mirth; + Whom lovely Venus, at a birth, + With two sister Graces more, + To ivy-crowned Bacchus bore: + + * * * * * + + Haste thee, nymph, and bring with thee + Jest, and youthful jollity, + Quips, and cranks, and wanton wiles, + Nods, and becks, and wreathed smiles, + Such as hang on Hebe's cheek, + And love to live in dimple sleek; + Sport that wrinkled care derides, + And laughter holding both his sides. + Come, and trip it, as you go, + On the light fantastic toe; + And in thy right hand lead with thee + The mountain-nymph, sweet Liberty; + And, if I give thee honour due, + Mirth, admit me of thy crew, + To live with her, and live with thee, + In unreproved pleasures free; + To hear the Lark begin his flight, + And singing startle the dull night, + From his watch-tower in the skies, + Till the dappled dawn doth rise; + Then to come, in spite of sorrow, + And at my window bid good-morrow, + Through the sweet-briar, or the vine, + Or the twisted eglantine: + While the cock, with lively din, + Scatters the rear of darkness thin, + And to the stack, or the barn-door, + Stoutly struts his dames before: + Oft listening how the hounds and horn + Cheerly rouse the slumbering morn, + From the side of some hoar hill, + Through the high wood echoing shrill. + Sometime walking, not unseen, + By hedge-row elms, on hillocks green, + Right against the eastern gate, + Where the great sun begins his state, + Rob'd in flames, and amber light, + The clouds in thousand liveries dight; + While the ploughman, near at hand, + Whistles o'er the furrow'd land, + And the milkmaid singeth blithe, + And the mower whets his scythe, + And every shepherd tells his tale, + Under the hawthorn in the dale. + Straight mine eye hath caught new pleasures, + While the landscape round it measures; + Russet lawns, and fallows gray, + Where the nibbling flocks do stray + Mountains, on whose barren breast, + The labouring clouds do often rest; + Meadows trim with daisies pied, + Shallow brooks, and rivers wide; + Towers and battlements it sees + Bosom'd high in tufted trees, + Where perhaps some beauty lies, + The cynosure of neighbouring eyes. + Hard by, a cottage chimney smokes + From betwixt two aged oaks, + Where Corydon and Thyrsis met, + Are at their savoury dinner set + Of herbs, and other country messes, + Which the neat-handed Phillis dresses; + And then in haste her bower she leaves, + With Thestylis to bind the sheaves; + Or, if the earlier season lead, + To the tann'd haycock in the mead. + Sometimes with secure delight + The upland hamlets will invite, + When the merry bells ring round, + And the jocund rebecks sound + To many a youth and many a maid, + Dancing in the checker'd shade; + And young and old come forth to play + On a sun-shine holy-day, + Till the live-long day-light fail: + Then to the spicy nut-brown ale, + With stories told of many a feat, + How faery Mab the junkets eat; + She was pinch'd, and pull'd, she said; + And he, by friar's lantern led. + Tells how the drudging goblin sweat + To earn his cream-bowl duly set, + When in one night, ere glimpse of morn, + His shadowy flail hath thresh'd the corn, + That ten day-labourers could not end; + Then lies him down the lubber fiend, + And, stretch'd out all the chimney's length, + Basks at the fire his hairy strength; + And crop-full out of door he flings, + Ere the first cock his matin rings. + Thus done the tales, to bed they creep, + By whispering winds soon lull'd asleep. + Tower'd cities please us then, + And the busy hum of men, + Where throngs of knights and barons bold, + In weeds of peace high triumphs hold. + With store of ladies, whose bright eyes + Rain influence, and judge the prize + Of wit or arms, while both contend + To win her grace, whom all commend. + There let Hymen oft appear + In saffron robe, with taper clear, + And pomp, and feast, and revelry, + With mask and antique pageantry. + Such sights, as youthful poets dream + On summer eves by haunted stream. + Then to the well-trod stage anon, + If Jonson's learned sock be on. + Or sweetest Shakspeare, Fancy's child, + Warble his native wood-notes wild. + And ever, against eating cares, + Lap me in soft Lydian airs, + Married to immortal verse; + Such as the meeting soul may pierce, + In notes, with many a winding bout + Of linked sweetness long drawn out, + With wanton heed and giddy cunning, + The melting voice through mazes running, + Untwisting all the chains that tie + The hidden soul of harmony; + That Orpheus' self may heave his head + From golden slumber on a bed + Of heap'd Elysian flowers, and hear + Such strains as would have won the ear + Of Pluto, to have quite set free + His half-regain'd Eurydice. + These delights if thou canst give, + Mirth, with thee I mean to live. + + MILTON. + + + +[Notes: _L'Allegro_ the Cheerful man: as Il Penseroso, the Thoughtful +man, (the title of the companion poem). + + + _Cerberus_. The dog that guarded the infernal regions. + + +_Cimmerian_. The Cimmerians were a race dwelling beyond the ocean +stream, in utter darkness. + + +_Euphrosyne_ Mirth or gladness. + + +_In unreproved pleasures_ = In innocent pleasures. + + +_Then to come_ = Then (admit me) to come. + + +_Corydon and Thyrsis_. Names for a rustic couple taken from the +mythology of the Latin poets. So _Phillis and Thestylis_. + + +_Rebecks_. Musical instruments like fiddles. + + +_Junkets_. Pieces of cheese or something of the kind. + + +_By friar's lantern_ = Jack o' Lantern or Will o' the Wisp. + + +_In weeds of peace_ = the dress worn in time of peace. + + +_Hymen_. God of wedlock. + + +_Jonson_. (See previous note to _Ben Jonson_.) + + +_Sock_. The shoe worn on the ancient stage by comedians as the buskin +was by tragedians. + + +_Lydian airs_. Soft and soothing, as opposed to the Dorian airs, which +expressed the rough and harsh element in ancient music.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +THE PLEASURES OF A LIFE OF LABOUR. + + +I wish to show you how possible it is to enjoy much happiness in very +mean employments. Cowper tells us that labour, though the primal curse, +"has been softened into mercy;" and I think that, even had he not done +so, I would have found out the fact for myself. It was twenty years +last February since I set out a little before sunrise to make my first +acquaintance with a life of labour and restraint, and I have rarely had +a heavier heart than on that morning. I was but a thin, loose-jointed +boy at the time--fond of the pretty intangibilities of romance, and of +dreaming when broad awake; and, woful change! I was now going to work +at what Burns has instanced in his "Twa Dogs" as one of the most +disagreeable of all employments--to work in a quarry. Bating the passing +uneasiness occasioned by a few gloomy anticipations, the portion of my +life which had already gone by had been happy beyond the common lot. I +had been a wanderer among rocks and wood--a reader of curious books when +I could get them--a gleaner of old traditionary stories; and now I was +going to exchange all my day-dreams, and all my amusements, for the kind +of life in which men toil every day that they may be enabled to eat, and +eat every day that they may be enabled to toil! + +The quarry in which I wrought lay on the southern side of a noble inland +bay, or frith rather, with a little clear stream on the one side, and a +thick fir wood on the other. It had been opened in the old red sandstone +of the district, and was overtopped by a huge bank of diluvial clay, +which rose over it in some places to the height of nearly thirty feet, +and which at this time was rent and shivered, wherever it presented an +open front to the weather, by a recent frost. A heap of loose fragments, +which had fallen from above blocked up the face of the quarry, and my +first employment was to clear them away. The friction of the shovel soon +blistered my hands, but the pain was by no means very severe, and I +wrought hard and willingly, that I might see how the huge strata below, +which presented so firm and unbroken a frontage, were to be torn up +and removed. Picks, and wedges, and levers, were applied by my brother +workmen; and simple and rude as I had been accustomed to regard these +implements, I found I had much to learn in the way of using them. They +all proved inefficient, however, and the workmen had to bore into one of +the inferior strata, and employ gunpowder. The process was new to me, +and I deemed it a highly-amusing one: it had the merit, too, of being +attended with some such degree of danger as a boating or rock excursion, +and had thus an interest independent of its novelty. We had a few +capital shots: the fragments flew in every direction; and an immense +mass of the diluvium came toppling down, bearing with it two dead birds, +that in a recent storm had crept into one of the deeper fissures, to die +in the shelter. I felt a new interest in examining them. The one was a +pretty cock goldfinch, with its hood of vermilion, and its wings inlaid +with the gold to which it owes its name, as unsoiled and smooth as if it +had been preserved for a museum. The other, a somewhat rarer bird, of +the woodpecker tribe, was variegated with light blue and a grayish +yellow. I was engaged in admiring the poor little things, more disposed +to be sentimental, perhaps, than if I had been ten years older, and +thinking of the contrast between the warmth and jollity of their green +summer haunts and the cold and darkness of their last retreat, when I +heard our employer bidding the workmen lay by their tools. I looked up, +and saw the sun sinking behind the thick fir-wood beside us, and the +long dark shadows of the trees stretching downwards towards the shore. + +This was no very formidable beginning of the course of life I had so +much dreaded. To be sure, my hands were a little sore, and I felt nearly +as much fatigued as if I had been climbing among the rocks; but I had +wrought and been useful, and had yet enjoyed the day fully as much as +usual. It was no small matter, too, that the evening, converted by a +rare transmutation into the delicious "blink of rest," which Burns so +truthfully describes, was all my own. I was as light of heart next +morning as any of my fellow-workmen. There had been a smart frost during +the night, and the rime lay white on the grass as we passed onwards +through the fields; but the sun rose in a clear atmosphere, and the day +mellowed, as it advanced, into one of those delightful days of early +spring which give so pleasing an earnest of whatever is mild and genial +in the better half of the year! All the workmen rested at mid-day, and +I went to enjoy my half-hour alone on a mossy knoll in the neighbouring +wood, which commands through the trees a wide prospect of the bay and +the opposite shore. There was not a wrinkle on the water, nor a cloud in +the sky, and the branches were as moveless in the calm as if they had +been traced on canvas. From a wooded promontory that stretched half-way +across the frith, there ascended a thin column of smoke. It rose +straight as the line of a plummet for more than a thousand yards, and +then, on reaching a thinner stratum of air, spread out equally on every +side like the foliage of a stately tree. Ben Wyvis rose to the west, +white with the yet unwasted snows of winter, and as sharply defined +in the clear atmosphere as if all its sunny slopes and blue retiring +hollows had been chiselled in marble. A line of snow ran along the +opposite hills; all above was white, and all below was purple. They +reminded me of the pretty French story, in which an old artist is +described as tasking the ingenuity of his future son-in-law by giving +him as a subject for his pencil a flower-piece composed of only white +flowers, of which the one-half were to bear their proper colour, the +other half a deep purple hue, and yet all be perfectly natural; and +how the young man resolved the riddle, and gained his mistress, by +introducing a transparent purple vase into the picture, and making the +light pass through it on the flowers that were drooping over the edge. I +returned to the quarry, convinced that a very exquisite pleasure may be +a very cheap one, and that the busiest employments may afford leisure +enough to enjoy it. + +The gunpowder had loosened a large mass in one of the inferior strata, +and our first employment, on resuming our labours, was to raise it from +its bed. I assisted the other workmen in placing it on edge, and was +much struck by the appearance of the platform on which it had rested. +The entire surface was ridged and furrowed like a bank of sand that +had been left by the tide an hour before. I could trace every bend and +curvature, every cross-hollow and counter-ridge of the corresponding +phenomena; for the resemblance was no half-resemblance--it was the +thing itself; and I had observed it a hundred and a hundred times when +sailing my little schooner in the shallows left by the ebb. But what had +become of the waves that had thus fretted the solid rock, or of what +element had they been composed? I felt as completely at fault as +Robinson Crusoe did on his discovering the print of the man's foot on +the sand. The evening furnished me with still further cause of wonder. +We raised another block in a different part of the quarry, and found +that the area of a circular depression in the stratum below was broken +and flawed in every direction, as if it had been the bottom of a pool, +recently dried up, which had shrunk and split in the hardening. Several +large stones came rolling down from the diluvium in the course of the +afternoon. They were of different qualities from the sandstone below, +and from one another; and, what was more wonderful still, they were all +rounded and water-worn, as if they had been tossed about in the sea, or +the bed of a river, for hundreds of years. There could not, surely, be +a more conclusive proof that the bank which had enclosed them so long +could not have been created on the rock on which it rested. No workman +ever manufactures a half-worn article, and the stones were all +half-worn! And if not the bank, why then the sandstone underneath? I +was lost in conjecture, and found I had food enough for thought that +evening, without once thinking of the unhappiness of a life of labour. + + HUGH MILLER. + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +THE FLIGHT OF BIRDS. + + +A good ornithologist should be able to distinguish birds by their air, +as well as by their colours and shape, on the ground as well as on the +wing, and in the bush as well as in the hand. For, though it must not be +said that every species of birds has a manner peculiar to itself, +yet there is somewhat in most kinds at least that at first sight +discriminates them, and enables a judicious observer to pronounce upon +them with some certainty. + +Thus, kites and buzzards sail round in circles, with wings expanded and +motionless; and it is from their gliding manner that the former are +still called, in the north of England, gleads, from the Saxon verb +_glidan_, to glide. The kestrel, or windhover, has a peculiar mode of +hanging in the air in one place, his wings all the while being briskly +agitated. Hen-harriers fly low over heaths or fields of corn, and beat +the ground regularly like a pointer or setting-dog. Owls move in a +buoyant manner, as if lighter than the air; they seem to want ballast. +There is a peculiarity belonging to ravens that must draw the attention +even of the most incurious--they spend all their leisure time in +striking and cuffing each other on the wing in a kind of playful +skirmish; and when they move from one place to another, frequently turn +on their backs with a loud croak, and seem to be falling on the ground. +When this odd gesture betides them, they are scratching themselves with +one foot, and thus lose the centre of gravity. Rooks sometimes dive and +tumble in a frolicsome manner; crows and daws swagger in their walk; +woodpeckers fly with an undulating motion, opening and closing their +wings at every stroke, and so are always rising and falling in curves. +All of this kind use their tails, which incline downwards, as a support +while they run up trees. Parrots, like all other hooked-clawed birds, +walk awkwardly, and make use of their bill as a third foot, climbing +and descending with ridiculous caution. Cocks, hens, partridges, and +pheasants, etc., parade and walk gracefully, and run nimbly; but fly +with difficulty, with an impetuous whirring, and in a straight line. +Magpies and jays flutter with powerless wings, and make no dispatch; +herons seem encumbered with too much sail for their light bodies; but +these vast hollow wings are necessary in carrying burdens, such as large +fishes, and the like; pigeons, and particularly the sort called smiters, +have a way of clashing their wings, the one against the other, over +their backs, with a loud snap; another variety, called tumblers, turn +themselves over in the air. The kingfisher darts along like an arrow; +fern-owls, or goat-suckers, glance in the dusk over the tops of trees +like a meteor; starlings, as it were, swim along, while missel-thrushes +use a wild and desultory flight; swallows sweep over the surface of the +ground and water, and distinguish themselves by rapid turns and quick +evolutions; swifts dash round in circles; and the bank-martin moves with +frequent vacillations, like a butterfly. Most of the small birds fly by +jerks, rising and falling as they advance. Most small birds hop; but +wagtails and larks walk, moving their legs alternately. Skylarks rise +and fall perpendicularly as they sing; woodlarks hang poised in the air; +and titlarks rise and fall in large curves, singing in their descent. +The white-throat uses odd jerks and gesticulations over the tops of +hedges and bushes. All the duck kind waddle; divers and auks walk as if +fettered, and stand erect on their tails. Geese and cranes, and most +wild fowls, move in figured flights, often changing their position. +Dabchicks, moorhens, and coots, fly erect, with their legs hanging down, +and hardly make any dispatch; the reason is plain, their wings are +placed too forward out of the true centre of gravity, as the legs of +auks and divers are situated too backward. + + REV. GILBERT WHITE. + + + + + * * * * * + + + + + THE VILLAGE. + + + Sweet was the sound, when oft at evening's close + Up yonder hill the village murmur rose. + There as I past with careless steps and slow, + The mingling notes came softened from below; + The swain responsive as the milk-maid sung, + The sober herd that lowed to meet their young, + The noisy geese that gabbled o'er the pool, + The playful children just let loose from school, + The watch-dog's voice that bayed the whispering wind, + And the loud laugh that spoke the vacant mind; + These all in sweet confusion sought the shade, + And filled each pause the nightingale had made. + But now the sounds of population fail, + No cheerful murmurs fluctuate in the gale, + No busy steps the grass-grown foot-way tread, + For all the bloomy flush of life is fled. + All but yon widowed, solitary thing, + That feebly bends beside the plashing spring: + She, wretched matron, forced in age, for bread, + To strip the brook with mantling cresses spread, + To pick her wintry faggot from the thorn, + To seek her nightly shed, and weep till mom; + She only left of all the harmless train, + The sad historian of the pensive plain. + Near yonder copse, where once the garden smiled, + And still, where many a garden-flower grows wild; + There, where a few torn shrubs the place disclose, + The village preacher's modest mansion rose, + A man he was to all the country dear, + And passing rich with forty pounds a year; + Remote from towns he ran his godly race, + Nor e'er had changed, nor wished to change his place; + Unpractised he to fawn, or seek for power, + By doctrines fashioned to the varying hour; + Far other aims his heart had learned to prize, + More skilled to raise the wretched than to rise. + His house was known to all the vagrant train; + He chid their wanderings, but relieved their pain; + The long-remember'd beggar was his guest, + Whose beard descending swept his aged breast, + The ruined spendthrift, now no longer proud, + Claimed kindred there, and had his claims allowed; + The broken soldier, kindly bade to stay, + Sat by his fire, and talked the night away. + Wept o'er his wounds or tales of sorrow done, + Shouldered his crutch, and showed how fields were won. + Pleased with his guests, the good man learned to glow, + And quite forgot their vices in their woe; + Careless their merits or their faults to scan, + His pity gave ere charity began. + Thus to relieve the wretched was his pride, + And e'en his failings leaned to virtue's side; + But in his duty prompt at every call, + He watched and wept, he prayed and felt for all; + And, as a bird each fond endearment tries + To tempt its new-fledged offspring to the skies, + He tried each art, reproved each dull delay, + Allured to brighter worlds, and led the way. + Beside the bed where parting life was laid, + And sorrow, guilt, and pain, by turns dismayed, + The reverend champion stood. At his control + Despair and anguish fled the struggling soul; + Comfort came down the trembling wretch to raise, + And his last faltering accents whispered praise. + At church, with meek and unaffected grace, + His looks adorned the venerable place; + Truth from his lips prevailed with double sway, + And fools, who came to scoff remained to pray. + The service past, around the pious man, + With steady zeal, each honest rustic ran; + E'en children followed with endearing wile, + And plucked his gown, to share the good man's smile. + His ready smile a parent's warmth expressed; + Their welfare pleased him, and their cares distressed: + To them his heart, his love, his griefs were given, + But all his serious thoughts had rest in heaven. + As some tall cliff that lifts its awful form, + Swells from the vale, and midway leaves the storm, + Though round its breast the rolling clouds are spread, + Eternal sunshine settles on its head. + Beside yon straggling fence that skirts the way, + With blossom'd furze unprofitably gay, + There in his noisy mansion, skilled to rule, + The village master taught his little school. + A man severe he was, and stern to view; + I knew him well, and every truant knew; + Well had the boding tremblers learned to trace + The day's disasters in his morning face; + Full well they laughed with counterfeited glee + At all his jokes, for many a joke had he; + Full well the busy whisper circling round + Conveyed the dismal tidings when he frowned, + Yet he was kind, or, if severe in aught, + The love he bore to learning was in fault; + The village all declared how much he knew; + 'Twas certain he could write, and cypher too; + Lands he could measure, terms and tides presage, + And e'en, the story ran, that he could gauge: + In arguing, too, the parson owned his skill; + For e'en though vanquished, he could argue still; + While words of learned length and thundering sound + Amazed the gazing rustics ranged around; + And still they gazed, and still the wonder grew, + That one small head could carry all he knew. + + GOLDSMITH. + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +THE BATTLE OF CORUNNA. + + +All the encumbrances being shipped on the morning of the 16th, it was +intended to embark the fighting men in the coming night, and this +difficult operation would probably have been happily effected; but a +glorious event was destined to give a more graceful, though melancholy, +termination to the campaign. About two o'clock a general movement of +the French line gave notice of an approaching battle, and the British +infantry, fourteen thousand five hundred strong, occupied their +position. Baird's division on the right, and governed by the oblique +direction of the ridge, approached the enemy; Hope's division, forming +the centre and left, although on strong ground abutting on the Mero, was +of necessity withheld, so that the French battery on the rocks raked the +whole line of battle. One of Baird's brigades was in column behind the +right, and one of Hope's behind the left; Paget's reserve posted at the +village of Airis, behind the centre, looked down the valley separating +the right of the position front the hills occupied by the French +cavalry. A battalion detached from the reserve kept these horsemen +in check, and was itself connected with the main body by a chain of +skirmishers extended across the valley. Fraser's division held the +heights immediately before the gates of Corunna, watching the coast +road, but it was also ready to succour any point. + +When Laborde's division arrived, the French force was not less than +twenty thousand men, and the Duke of Dalmatia made no idle evolutions of +display. Distributing his lighter guns along the front of his position, +he opened a fire from the heavy battery on his left, and instantly +descended the mountain, with three columns covered by clouds of +skirmishers. The British pickets were driven back in disorder, and the +village of Elvina was carried by the first French column. + +The ground about that village was intersected by stone walls and hollow +roads; a severe scrambling fight ensued, the French were forced back +with great loss, and the fiftieth regiment entering the village with the +retiring mass, drove it, after a second struggle in the street, quite +beyond the houses. Seeing this, the general ordered up a battalion of +the guards to fill the void in the line made by the advance of those +regiments; whereupon, the forty-second, mistaking his intention, +retired, with exception of the grenadiers; and at that moment, the enemy +being reinforced, renewed the fight beyond the village. Major Napier, +commanding the fiftieth, was wounded and taken prisoner, and Elvina +then became the scene of another contest; which being observed by +the Commander-in-Chief, he addressed a few animating words to the +forty-second, and caused it to return to the attack. Paget had now +descended into the valley, and the line of the skirmishers being thus +supported, vigorously checked the advance of the enemy's troops in that +quarter, while the fourth regiment galled their flank; at the same time +the centre and left of the army also became engaged, Baird was severely +wounded, and a furious action ensued along the line, in the valley, and +on the hills. + +General Sir John Moore, while earnestly watching the result of the +fight about the village of Elvina, was struck on the left breast by a +cannon-shot; the shock threw him from his horse with violence; yet he +rose again in a sitting posture, his countenance unchanged, and his +steadfast eye still fixed upon the regiments engaged in his front, no +sigh betraying a sensation of pain. In a few moments, when he saw the +troops were gaining ground, his countenance brightened, and he suffered +himself to be taken to the rear. Then was seen the dreadful nature +of his hurt. As the soldiers placed him in a blanket, his sword got +entangled, and the hilt entered the wound; Captain Hardinge, a staff +officer, attempted to take it off, but the dying man stopped him, +saying: "It is as well as it is. I had rather it should go out of the +field with me;" and in that manner, so becoming to a soldier, Moore was +borne from the fight. + +Notwithstanding this great disaster, the troops gained ground. The +reserve overthrowing everything in the valley, forced La Houssaye's +dismounted dragoons to retire, and thus turning the enemy, approached +the eminence upon which the great battery was posted. In the centre, the +obstinate dispute for Elvina terminated in favour of the British; and +when the night set in, their line was considerably advanced beyond the +original position of the morning, while the French were falling back in +confusion. If Fraser's division had been brought into action along with +the reserve, the enemy could hardly have escaped a signal overthrow; +for the little ammunition Soult had been able to bring up was nearly +exhausted, the river Mero was in full tide behind him, and the difficult +communication by the bridge of El Burgo was alone open for a retreat. On +the other hand, to fight in the dark was to tempt fortune; the French +were still the most numerous, their ground strong, and their disorder +facilitated the original plan of embarking during the night. Hope, upon +whom the command had devolved, resolved therefore, to ship the army, +and so complete were the arrangements, that no confusion or difficulty +occurred; the pickets kindled fires to cover the retreat, and were +themselves withdrawn at daybreak, to embark under the protection of +Hill's brigade, which was in position under the ramparts of Corunna. + +From the spot where he fell, the general was carried to the town by his +soldiers; his blood flowed fast, and the torture of the wound was great; +yet the unshaken firmness of his mind made those about him, seeing the +resolution of his countenance, express a hope of his recovery. He looked +steadfastly at the injury for a moment, and said, "No, I feel that to +be impossible." Several times he caused his attendants to stop and turn +round, that he might behold the field of battle; and when the firing +indicated the advance of the British, he discovered his satisfaction +and permitted the bearers to proceed. When brought to his lodgings, the +surgeons examined his wound; there was no hope, the pain increased, he +spoke with difficulty. At intervals, he asked if the French were beaten, +and addressing his old friend, Colonel Anderson, said, "You know I +always wished to die this way." Again he asked if the enemy were +defeated, and being told they were, said, "It is a great satisfaction to +me to know we have beaten the French." His countenance continued firm, +his thoughts clear; once only when he spoke of his mother he became +agitated; but he often inquired after the safety of his friends and the +officers of his staff, and he did not even in this moment forget to +recommend those whose merit had given them claims to promotion. When +life was nearly extinct, with an unsubdued spirit, as if anticipating +the baseness of his posthumous calumniators, he exclaimed, "I hope +the people of England will be satisfied! I hope my country will do me +justice!" In a few minutes afterwards he died; and his corpse, wrapped +in a military cloak, was interred by the officers of his staff, in the +citadel of Corunna. The guns of the enemy paid his funeral honours, and +Soult, with a noble feeling of respect for his valour, raised a monument +to his memory on the field of battle. + + NAPIER. + + + +[Note:_Battle of Corunna_. The French army having proclaimed Joseph +Buonaparte, King of Spain, the Spanish people rose as one man in +protest, and sought and obtained the aid of England. The English armies +were at first driven back by Napoleon; but the force under Sir John +Moore saved its honour in the fight before Corunna, 16th January, 1809, +which enabled it to embark in safety.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +BATTLE OF ALBUERA. + + +The fourth division was composed of two brigades: one of Portuguese +under General Harvey; the other, under Sir William Myers, consisting of +the seventh and twenty-third regiments, was called the Fusilier Brigade; +Harvey's Portuguese were immediately pushed in between Lumley's dragoons +and the hill, where they were charged by some French cavalry, whom they +beat off, and meantime Cole led his fusiliers up the contested height. +At this time six guns were in the enemy's possession, the whole of +Werle's reserves were coming forward to reinforce the front column of +the French, the remnant of Houghton's brigade could no longer maintain +its ground, the field was heaped with carcasses, the lancers were riding +furiously about the captured artillery on the upper parts of the +hill, and behind all, Hamilton's Portuguese and Alten's Germans, now +withdrawing from the bridge, seemed to be in full retreat. Soon, +however, Cole's fusiliers, flanked by a battalion of the Lusitanian +legion under Colonel Hawkshawe, mounted the hill, drove off the lancers, +recovered five of the captured guns and one colour, and appeared on the +right of Houghton's brigade, precisely as Abercrombie passed it on the +left. + +Such a gallant line, issuing from the midst of the smoke, and rapidly +separating itself from the confused and broken multitude, startled the +enemy's masses, which were increasing and pressing onwards as to an +assured victory; they wavered, hesitated, and then vomiting forth a +storm of fire, hastily endeavoured to enlarge their front, while a +fearful discharge of grape from all their artillery whistled through the +British ranks. Myers was killed, Cole and the three colonels, Ellis, +Blakeney, and Hawkshawe, fell wounded, and the fusilier battalions, +struck by the iron tempest, reeled and staggered like sinking ships; but +suddenly and sternly recovering, they closed on their terrible enemies, +and then was seen with what a strength and majesty the British soldier +fights. In vain did Soult with voice and gesture animate his Frenchmen; +in vain did the hardiest veterans break from the crowded columns and +sacrifice their lives to gain time for the mass to open out on such a +fair field; in vain did the mass itself bear up, and, fiercely striving, +fire indiscriminately upon friends and foes, while the horsemen, +hovering on the flank, threatened to charge the advancing line. Nothing +could stop that astonishing infantry. No sudden burst of undisciplined +valour, no nervous enthusiasm weakened the stability of their order, +their flashing eyes were bent on the dark columns in their front, their +measured tread shook the ground, their dreadful volleys swept away +the head of every formation, their deafening shouts overpowered the +dissonant cries that broke from all parts of the tumultuous crowd, as +slowly and with a horrid carnage it was pushed by the incessant vigour +of the attack to the farthest edge of the hill. In vain did the French +reserves mix with the struggling multitude to sustain the fight; their +efforts only increased the irremediable confusion, and the mighty mass, +breaking off like a loosened cliff, went headlong down the steep; the +rain flowed after in streams discoloured with blood, and eighteen +hundred unwounded men, the remnant of six thousand unconquerable British +soldiers, stood triumphant on the fatal hill! + + NAPIER. + + + +[Note: _Battle of Albuera_, in which the English and Spanish armies won +a victory over the French under Marshal Soult, on 16th May, 1811.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +CHARGE OF THE LIGHT BRIGADE AT BALAKLAVA. + + +The whole brigade scarcely made one efficient regiment according to the +number of continental armies; and yet it was more than we could spare. +As they passed towards the front, the Russians opened on them from the +guns in the redoubt on the right with volleys of musketry and rifles. +They swept proudly past, glittering in the morning sun in all the pride +and splendour of war. We could scarcely believe the evidence of our +senses! Surely that handful of men are not going to charge an army in +position? Alas! it was but too true; their desperate valour knew +no bounds, and far indeed was it removed from its so-called better +part--discretion. They advanced in two lines, quickening their pace +as they closed towards the enemy. A more fearful spectacle was never +witnessed than by those who, without the power to aid, beheld their +heroic countrymen rushing to the arms of death. At the distance of +twelve hundred yards the whole line of the enemy belched forth, from +thirty iron mouths, a flood of smoke and flame through which hissed the +deadly balls. Their flight was marked by instant gaps in our ranks, by +dead men and horses, by steeds flying wounded or riderless across the +plain. The first line is broken, it is joined by the second; they never +halt or check their speed for an instant; with diminished ranks, thinned +by those thirty guns, which the Russians had laid with the most deadly +accuracy, with a halo of flashing steel above their heads, and with a +cheer which was many a noble fellow's death-cry, they flew into the +smoke of the batteries; but ere they were lost to view the plain was +strewn with their bodies and with the carcasses of horses. They were +exposed to an oblique fire from the batteries on the hills on both +sides, as well as to a direct fire of musketry. Through the clouds of +smoke we could see their sabres flashing as they rode up to the guns and +dashed between them, cutting down the gunners as they stood. We saw them +riding through the guns, as I have said: to our delight we saw them +returning, after breaking through a column of Russian infantry, and +scattering them like chaff, when the flank fire of the battery on the +hill swept them down, scattered and broken as they were. Wounded men and +dismounted troopers flying towards us told the sad tale: demigods could +not have done what we had failed to do. At the very moment when they +were about to retreat, an enormous mass of lancers was hurled on their +flank. Colonel Shewell, of the 8th Hussars, saw the danger, and rode his +few men straight at them, cutting his way through with fearful loss. +The other regiments turned and engaged in a desperate encounter. With +courage too great almost for credence, they were breaking their way +through the columns which enveloped them, when there took place an act +of atrocity without parallel in the modern warfare of civilised nations. +The Russian gunners, when the storm of cavalry passed, returned to their +guns. They saw their own cavalry mingled with the troopers who had just +ridden over them, and, to the eternal disgrace of the Russian name, the +miscreants poured a murderous volley of grape and canister on the mass +of struggling men and horses, mingling friend and foe in one common +ruin. It was as much as our Heavy Cavalry Brigade could do to cover +the retreat of the miserable remnants of that band of heroes as they +returned to the place they had so lately quitted in all the pride of +life. At 11:35 not a British soldier, except the dead and dying, was +left in front of the Muscovite guns. + + _The "Times" Correspondent_. + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +THE MERCHANT OF VENICE. + + +SCENE.--_Venice. A Court of Justice. + + Enter the_ DUKE, _the_ Magnificoes, ANTONIO, + BASSANIO, GATIANO, SALARINO, SALANIO, _and + others_. + + + _Duke_. What, is Antonio here? + + _Ant_. Ready, so please your grace. + + _Duke._ I am sorry for thee; thou art come to +answer +A stony adversary, an inhuman wretch +Uncapable of pity, void and empty +From any dram of mercy. + + _Ant_. I have heard +Your grace hath ta'en great pains to qualify +His rigorous course; but since he stands obdurate +And that no lawful means can carry me +Out of his envy's reach, I do oppose +My patience to his fury, and am arm'd +To suffer, with a quietness of spirit, +The very tyranny and rage of his. + + _Duke_. Go one, and call the Jew into the court, + + _Salan_. He is ready at the door: he comes, my lord. + + _Enter_ SHYLOCK. + + + _Duke_. Make room, and let him stand before our face. +Shylock, the world thinks, and I think so too, +That thou but lead'st this fashion of thy malice +To the last hour of act; and then 'tis thought +Thou'lt show thy mercy and remorse more strange +Than is thy strange apparent cruelty; +And where thou now exact'st the penalty, +(Which is a pound of this poor merchant's flesh), +Thou wilt not only loose the forfeiture, +But, touch'd with human gentleness and love, +Forgive a moiety of the principal; +Glancing an eye of pity on his losses, +That have of late so huddled on his back, +Enow to press a royal merchant down +And pluck commiseration of his state +From brassy bosoms and rough hearts of flint, +From stubborn Turks and Tartars, never train'd +To offices of tender courtesy. +We all expect a gentle answer, Jew. + + _Shy._ I have possess'd your grace of what I purpose; +And by our holy Sabbath have I sworn +To have the due and forfeit of my bond: +If you deny it, let the danger light +Upon your charter and your city's freedom. +You'll ask me, why I rather choose to have +A weight of carrion flesh than to receive +Three thousand ducats; I'll not answer that: +But, say, it is my humour; is it answer'd? + + * * * * * + + _Bass._ This is no answer, thou unfeeling man, +To excuse the current of thy cruelty. + + _Shy_. I am not bound to please thee with my answer. + + * * * * * + + _Ant._ I pray you, think you question with the Jew: +You may as well go stand upon the beach +And bid the main flood bate his usual height; +You may as well use question with the wolf +Why he hath made the ewe bleat for the lamb; +You may as well forbid the mountain pines +To wag their high tops and to make no noise, +When they are fretted with the gusts of heaven; +You may as well do any thing most hard, +As seek to soften that--than which what's harder?-- +His Jewish heart: therefore, I do beseech you, +Make no more offers, use no farther means, +But with all brief and plain conveniency +Let me have judgment, and the Jew his will. + + _Bass_. For thy three thousand ducats here is six. + + _Shy_, If every ducat in six thousand ducats +Were in six parts, and every part a ducat, +I would not draw them; I would have my bond. + + _Duke_. How shalt thou hope for mercy, rendering none? + + _Shy_. What judgment shall I dread, doing no wrong? +You have among you many a purchased slave, +Which, like your asses and your dogs and mules, +You use in abject and in slavish parts, +Because you bought them: shall I say to you, +Let them be free, marry them to your heirs? +Why sweat they under burthens? let their beds +Be made as soft as yours, and let their palates +Be season'd with such viands? You will answer +"The slaves are ours:" so do I answer you; +The pound of flesh, which I demand of him, +Is dearly bought; 'tis mine, and I will have it: +If you deny me, fie upon your law! +There is no force in the decrees of Venice: +I stand for judgment: answer; shall I have it? + + _Duke_. Upon my power, I may dismiss this court, +Unless Bellario, a learned doctor, +Whom I have sent for to determine this, +Come here to-day. + + _Salar_. My lord, here stays without +A messenger with letters from the doctor, +New come from Padua. + + _Duke_. Bring us the letters; call the messenger. + + _Enter_ NERISSA, _dressed like a lawyer's clerk._ + + _Duke._ Came you from Padua, from Bellario? + + _Ner_. From both, my lord. Bellario greets your grace. + + [_Presenting a letter_. + + _Bass_. Why dost thou whet thy knife so earnestly? + + _Shy_. To cut the forfeiture from that bankrupt there. + + _Gra_. Not on thy sole, but on thy soul, harsh Jew, +Thou mak'st thy knife keen; but no metal can, +No, not the hangman's axe, bear half the keenness +Of thy sharp envy. Can no prayers pierce thee? + + _Shy_. No, none that thou hast wit enough to make. + + * * * * * + + _Duke_. This letter from Bellario doth commend +A young and learned doctor to our court:-- +Where is he? + + _Ner_. He attendeth here hard by, +To know your answer, whether you'll admit him. + + _Duke_. With all my heart. Some three or four of you, +Go give him courteous conduct to this place. + + * * * * * + + _Enter_ PORTIA, _dressed like a doctor of laws_. + + _Duke_. Give me your hand. Came you from old Bellario? + + _Por_. I did, my lord. + + _Duke_. You are welcome: take your place. +Are you acquainted with the difference +That holds this present question in the court? + + _Por_. I am informed thoroughly of the cause. +Which is the merchant here, and which the Jew? + + _Duke_. Antonio and old Shylock, both stand +forth. + + _Por_. Is your name Shylock? + + _Shy_. Shylock is my name. + + _Por_. Of a strange nature is the suit you follow; +Yet in such rule that the Venetian law +Cannot impugn you as you do proceed. +You stand within his danger, do you not? + + _Ant_. Ay, so he says. + + _Por_. Do you confess the bond? + + _Ant_. I do. + + _Por_. Then must the Jew be merciful. + + _Shy_. On what compulsion must I? tell me that. + + _Por_. The quality of mercy is not strain'd; +It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven +Upon the place beneath: it is twice blest; +It blesseth him that gives and him that takes: +'Tis mightiest in the mightiest: it becomes +The throned monarch better than his crown; +His sceptre shows the force of temporal power, +The attribute to awe and majesty, +Wherein doth sit the dread and fear of kings; +But mercy is above this scepter'd sway; +It is enthroned in the hearts of kings, +It is an attribute to God himself: +And earthly power doth then show likest God's +When mercy seasons justice. Therefore, Jew, +Though justice be thy plea, consider this, +That, in the course of justice, none of us +Should see salvation: we do pray for mercy; +And that same prayer doth teach us all to render +The deeds of mercy. I have spoke thus much +To mitigate the justice of thy plea; +Which if thou follow, this strict court of Venice +Must needs give sentence 'gainst the merchant there. + + _Shy_. My deeds upon my head! I crave the law, +The penalty and forfeit of my bond. + + _Por_. Is he not able to discharge the money? + + _Bass_. Yes, here I tender it for him in the court; +Yea, twice the sum: if that will not suffice; +I will be bound to pay it ten times o'er, +On forfeit of my hands, my head, my heart: +If this will not suffice, it must appear +That malice bears down truth. And I beseech you, +Wrest once the law to your authority: +To do a great right, do a little wrong, +And curb this cruel devil of his will. + + _Por_. It must not be; there is no power in Venice +Can alter a decree established: +'Twill be recorded for a precedent, +And many an error, by the same example, +Will rush into the state: it cannot be. + + _Shy._ A Daniel come to judgment! yea, a Daniel! +O wise young judge, how do I honour thee! + + _Por._ I pray you, let me look upon the bond. + + _Shy._ Here 'tis, most reverend doctor, here it is. + + _Por._ Shylock, there's thrice thy money offer'd thee. + + _Shy._ An oath, an oath, I have an oath in heaven: +Shall I lay perjury upon my soul? +No, not for Venice. + + _Por._ Why, this bond is forfeit; +And lawfully by this the Jew may claim +A pound of flesh, to be by him cut off +Nearest the merchant's heart. Be merciful: +Take thrice thy money; bid me tear the bond. + + _Shy._ When it is paid according to the tenour. +It doth appear you are a worthy judge; +You know the law, your exposition +Hath been most sound: I charge you by the law, +Whereof you are a well-deserving pillar, +Proceed to judgment: by my soul I swear +There is no power in the tongue of man +To alter me: I stay here on my bond. + + _Ant._ Most heartily I do beseech the court +To give the judgment. + + _Por._ Why then, thus it is: +You must prepare your bosom for his knife. + + _Shy._ O noble judge! O excellent young man! + + _Por_. For the intent and purpose of the law +Hath full relation to the penalty, +Which here appeareth due upon the bond. + + _Shy_. 'Tis very true: O wise and upright judge! +How much more elder art thou than thy looks! + + _Por_. Therefore lay bare your bosom. + + _Shy_. Ay, his breast: +So says the bond; doth it not, noble judge? +"Nearest his heart:" those are the very words. + + _Por_. It is so. Are there balance here to weigh +The flesh? + + _Shy_. I have them ready. + + _Por_. Have by some surgeon, Shylock, on your charge, +To stop his wounds, lest he do bleed to death. + + _Shy_. Is it so nominated in the bond? + + _Por_. It is not so express'd: but what of that? +'Twere good you do so much for charity. + + _Shy_. I cannot find it; 'tis not in the bond. + + _Por_. Come, merchant, have you anything to say? + + _Ant_. But little: I am arm'd and well prepared. +Give me your hand, Bassanio: fare you well! +Grieve not that I am fallen to this for you; +For herein Fortune shows herself more kind +Than is her custom: it is still her use +To let the wretched man outlive his wealth, +To view with hollow eye and wrinkled brow +An age of poverty; from which lingering penance +Of such a misery doth she cut me off. +Commend me to your honourable wife: +Tell her the process of Antonio's end; +Say how I loved you, speak me fair in death. + + * * * * * + + _Shy_. We trifle time: I pray thee, pursue sentence. + + _Por_. A pound of that same merchant's flesh is thine: +The court awards it, and the law doth give it. + + _Shy_. Most rightful judge! + + _Por_. And you must cut this flesh from off his breast: +The law allows it, and the court awards it. + + _Shy_. Most learned judge! A sentence; come, prepare. + + _Por_. Tarry a little; there is something else. +This bond doth give thee here no jot of blood; +The words expressly are "a pound of flesh:" +Take then thy bond, take thou thy pound of flesh; +But, in the cutting it, if thou dost shed +One drop of Christian blood, thy lands and goods +Are, by the laws of Venice, confiscate +Unto the state of Venice. + + _Gra_. O upright judge! Mark, Jew: O learned judge! + + _Shy_. Is that the law? + + _Por_. Thyself shalt see the act: +For, as thou urgest justice, be assured +Thou shalt have justice, more than thou desirest. + + _Gra_. O learned judge! Mark, Jew; a learned judge! + + _Shy_. I take this offer, then; pay the bond thrice, +And let the Christian go. + + _Bass_. Here is the money. + + _Por_. Soft! +The Jew shall have all justice; soft! no haste: +He shall have nothing but the penalty. + + _Gra_. O Jew! an upright judge, a learned judge! + + _Por_. Therefore prepare thee to cut off the flesh. +Shed thou no blood, nor cut thou less nor more +But just a pound of flesh: if thou cut'st more +Or less than a just pound, be it but so much +As makes it light or heavy in the substance, +Or the division of the twentieth part +Of one poor scruple; nay, if the scale do turn +But in the estimation of a hair, +Thou diest and all thy goods are confiscate. + + _Gra_. A second Daniel, a Daniel, Jew! +Now, infidel, I have thee on the hip. + + _Por_. Why doth the Jew pause? take thy forfeiture. + + _Shy_. Give me my principal, and let me go. + + _Bass_. I have it ready for thee; here it is. + + _Por_. He hath refused it in the open court: +He shall have merely justice and his bond. + + _Gra_. A Daniel, still say I, a second Daniel! +I thank thee, Jew, for teaching me that word. + + _Shy_. Shall I not have barely my principal? + + _Por_. Thou shalt have nothing but the forfeiture, +To be so taken at thy peril, Jew. + + _Shy_. Why, then the devil give him good of it! +I'll stay no longer question. + + _Por_. Tarry, Jew: +The law hath yet another hold on you. +It is enacted in the laws of Venice, +If it be proved against an alien, +That by direct or indirect attempts +He seek the life of any citizen, +The party 'gainst the which he doth contrive +Shall seize one half his goods; the other half +Comes to the privy coffer of the state; +And the offender's life lies in the mercy +Of the duke only, 'gainst all other voice. +In which predicament, I say, thou stand'st; +For it appears, by manifest proceeding, +That indirectly and directly too +Thou hast contrived against the very life +Of the defendant; and thou hast incurr'd +The danger formerly by me rehearsed. +Down, therefore, and beg mercy of the duke. + + _Gra_. Beg that thou mayst have leave to hang thyself: +And yet, thy wealth being forfeit to the state, +Thou hast not left the value of a cord; +Therefore, thou must be hang'd at the state's charge. + + _Duke_. That thou shalt see the difference of our spirit, +I pardon thee thy life before thou ask it: +For half thy wealth, it is Antonio's; +The other half comes to the general state, +Which humbleness may drive unto a fine. + + _Por_. Ay, for the state, not for Antonio. + + _Shy_. Nay, take my life and all; pardon not that: +You take my house when you do take the prop +That doth sustain my house; you take my life +When you do take the means whereby I live. + + _Por_. What mercy can you render him, Antonio? + + _Gra_. A halter gratis; nothing else, for God's sake. + + _Ant_. So please my lord the duke, and all the court +To quit the fine for one half of his goods; +I am content, so he will let me have +The other half in use, to render it, +Upon his death, unto the gentleman +That lately stole his daughter. + + * * * * * + + _Por_. Art thou contented, Jew? what dost thou say? + + _Shy_. I am content. + + SHAKESPEARE. + + + + +[Notes: _Merchant of Venice. Obdurate_, with the second syllable long, +which modern usage makes short. + + +_Frellen_--agitated. A form of participial termination frequently found +in Shakespeare, as _strucken_, &c. It is preserved in _eaten, given, +&c._ + + +_Within his danger_ = in danger of him. + + +_Which humbleness may drive unto a fine_ = which with humility on your +part may be commuted for a fine.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + + IL PENSEROSO. + + Hence vain deluding Joys, + The brood of Folly, without father bred! + How little you bestead, + Or fill the fixèd mind with all your toys! + Dwell in some idle brain, + And fancies fond with gaudy shapes possess, + As thick and numberless + As the gay motes that people the sunbeams. + Or likest hovering dreams, + The fickle pensioners of Morpheus' train. + + But hail, thou Goddess, sage and holy! + Hail, divinest Melancholy! + Whose saintly visage is too bright + To hit the sense of human sight, + And therefore to our weaker view + O'erlaid with black, staid Wisdom's hue: + Black, but such as in esteem + Prince Memnon's sister might beseem + Or that starred Ethiop queen that strove + To set her beauty's praise above + The Sea-Nymphs, and their powers offended; + Yet thou art higher far descended; + Thee bright-haired Vesta, long of yore + To solitary Saturn bore; + His daughter she; in Saturn's reign + Such mixture was not held a stain: + Oft in glimmering bowers and glades + He met her, and in secret shades + Of woody Ida's inmost grove, + While yet there was no fear of Jove. + Come, pensive nun, devout and pure, + Sober, steadfast, and demure + All in a robe of darkest grain, + Flowing with majestic train + And sable stole of cyprus lawn, + Over thy decent shoulders drawn. + Come, but keep thy wonted state, + With even step and musing gait, + And looks commèrcing with the skies, + Thy rapt soul sitting in thine eyes; + There, held in holy passion still, + Forget thyself to marble, till + With a sad leaden downward cast, + Thou fix them on the earth as fast; + And join with thee calm Peace and Quiet, + Spare Fast, that oft with gods doth diet. + And hears the Muses in a ring + Aye round about Jove's altar sing; + And add to these retirèd Leisure, + That in trim gardens takes his pleasure; + But first, and chiefest, with thee bring + Him that yon soars on golden wing, + Guiding the fiery-wheelèd throne, + The cherub Contemplation; + And the mute Silence hist along, + 'Less Philomel will deign a song + In her sweetest, saddest plight, + Smoothing the rugged brow of Night, + While Cynthia checks her dragon yoke, + Gently o'er the accustomed oak; + --Sweet bird, that shunn'st the noise of folly, + Most musical, most melancholy; + Thee, chauntress, oft, the woods among + I woo, to hear thy even-song; + And missing thee, I walk unseen, + On the dry smooth-shaven green, + To behold the wandering Moon, + Riding near her highest noon, + Like one that had been led astray + Through the heaven's wide pathless way; + And oft, as if her head she bowed, + Stooping through a fleecy cloud. + Oft, on a plat of rising ground, + I hear the far-off Curfew sound + Over some wide-watered shore, + Swinging slow with sullen roar. + Or, if the air will not permit, + Some still, removed place will fit, + Where glowing embers through the room + Teach light to counterfeit a gloom, + Far from all resort of mirth, + Save the cricket on the hearth, + Or the bellman's drowsy charm, + To bless the doors from nightly harm. + Or let my lamp at midnight hour + Be seen on some high lonely tower, + Where I may oft out-watch the Bear + With thrice-great Hermes, or unsphere + The spirit of Plato, to unfold + What worlds, or what vast regions hold + The immortal mind, that hath forsook + Her mansion in this fleshly nook; + And of those demons that are found + In fire air, flood, or under ground, + Whose power hath a true consent + With planet, or with element. + Sometime let gorgeous Tragedy + In sceptered pall come sweeping by, + Presenting Thebes, or Pelops' line, + Or the tale of Troy divine, + Or what (though rare) of later age + Ennobled hath the buskined stage. + But, O sad Virgin, that thy power + Might raise Musaeus from his bower, + Or bid the soul of Orpheus sing + Such notes as, warbled to the string, + Drew iron tears down Pluto's cheek, + And made Hell grant what Love did seek! + Or call up him that left half-told + The story of Cambuscan bold, + Of Camball, and of Algarsife, + And who had Canace to wife + That owned the virtuous ring and glass; + And of the wondrous horse of brass + On which the Tartar king did ride; + And if aught else great bards beside + In sage and solemn tunes have sung, + Of tourneys and of trophies hung, + Of forests and enchantments drear, + Where more is meant than meets the ear. + Thus Night, oft see me in thy pale career, + Till civil-suited Morn appear. + Not tricked and frounced as she was wont + With the Attic Boy to hunt, + But kerchiefed in a comely cloud + While rocking winds are piping loud, + Or ushered with a shower still, + When the gust hath blown his fill, + Ending on the rustling leaves, + With minute drops from off the eaves. + And when the sun begins to fling + His flaring beams, me, Goddess, bring + To archèd walks of twilight groves, + And shadows brown, that Sylvan loves, + Of pine or monumental oak, + Where the rude axe, with heavèd stroke, + Was never heard the nymphs to daunt, + Or fright them from their hallowed haunt. + There in close covert by some brook + Where no profaner eye may look, + Hide me from Day's garish eye, + While the bee with honeyed thigh, + That at her flowery work doth sing, + And the waters murmuring, + With such concert as they keep, + Entice the dewy-feathered Sleep: + And let some strange mysterious dream + Wave at his wings in airy stream + Of lively portraiture displayed, + Softly on my eyelids laid: + And as I wake sweet music breathe + Above, about, or underneath, + Sent by some spirit to mortals good, + Or the unseen Genius of the wood. + But let my due feet never fail, + To walk the studious cloister's pale, + And love the high embowed roof, + With antique pillars massy proof, + And storied windows richly dight, + Casting a dim religious light. + There let the pealing organ blow, + To the full-voiced quire below, + In service high, and anthems clear, + As may with sweetness, through mine ear + Dissolve me into ecstasies, + And bring all Heaven before mine eyes. + And may at last my weary age + Find out the peaceful hermitage. + The hairy gown and mossy cell + Where I may sit and rightly spell + Of every star that heaven doth show, + And every herb that sips the dew; + Till old Experience do attain + To something like prophetic strain. + These pleasures, Melancholy, give, + And I with thee will choose to live. + + MILTON. + + + +[Notes: _Il Penscioso_ = the thoughtful man. + + +_Bestead_ = help, stand in good stead. + + +_Fond_ = foolish; its old meaning. + + +_Pensioners_. A word taken from the name of Elizabeth's body-guard. +Compare "the cowslips tall her pensioners be" ('Midsummer Night's +Dream'). + + +_Prince Memnon_, of Ethiopia, fairest of warriors, slain by Achilles +(Homer's Odyssey, Book xi.). His sister was Hemora. + + +_Starred Ethiop Queen_ = Cassiope, wife of King Cepheus, who was placed +among the stars. + + +_Sea-nymphs_ = Nereids. + + +Vesta_, the Goddess of the hearth; here for _Retirement. Saturn_, as +having introduced, according to the mythology, civilization, here stands +for _culture_. + + +_Commercing_ = holding communion with. Notice the accentuation. + + +_Forget thyself to marble_ = forget thyself till thou are still and +silent as marble. + + +_Hist along_ = bring along with a hush. _Hist_ is connected with _hush_. + + +_Philomel_ = the nightingale. + + +_Cynthia_ = the moon. + + +_Dragon yoke_. Compare "Night's swift dragons," ('Midsummer Night's +Dream'). + + +_Removed place_ = remote or retired place. Compare "some removed ground" +in 'Hamlet.' + + +_Nightly_ = by night. Sometimes it means "every night successively." + + +_Thrice-great Hermes_, a translation of Hermes Trismegistus, a fabulous +king of Egypt, held to be the inventor of Alchemy and Astronomy. + + +_Unsphere_, draw from his sphere or station. + + +_The immortal mind_. Plato treats of the immortality of the soul chiefly +in the _Phaedo_. The _demon_, with Socrates, is the attendant genius +of an individual; with Plato it is more general; and the assigning the +demons to the four elements is a notion of the later Platonists. + + +_Sceptered pall_ = royal robe. + + +_Presenting Thebes_, &c. These lines represent the subjects of tragedies +by Aeschylus, Sophocles, and Euripides, the great tragic poets of +Athens. + + +_Musaeus_, here for some bard of the distant past, generally. Musaeus, +in mythology, is a bard of Thrace, and son of Orpheus. + + +_Half-told the story of Cambuscan bold_. The Squire's Tale in Chaucer, +which is broken off in the middle. + + +_Camball_, Cambuscan's son. _Algarsife and Canacé_, his wife and +daughter. + + +_Frounced_. Used of hair twisted and curled. + + +_The Attic Boy_ = _Cephalus_, loved by _Eos_, the Morning. + + +_A shower still_ = a soft shower. + + +_Sylvan_ = Pan or Sylvanus. + + +_Cloister's pale_ = cloister's enclosure. + + +_Massy proof_. Massive and proof against the weight above them.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +AFRICAN HOSPITALITY. + + +As we approached the town, I was fortunate enough to overtake the +fugitive Kaartans to whose kindness I had been so much indebted in my +journey through Bambarra. They readily agreed to introduce me to the +King; and we rode together through some marshy ground where, as I was +anxiously looking around for the river, one of them called out, _geo +affili_ (see the water), and looking forwards, I saw with infinite +pleasure the great object of my mission--the long sought for majestic +Niger, glittering to the morning sun, as broad as the Thames at +Westminster, and flowing slowly _to the eastward_. I hastened to the +brink, and having drank of the water, lifted up my fervent thanks in +prayer to the Great Ruler of all things, for having thus far crowned my +endeavours with success. + +The circumstance of the Niger's flowing towards the east, and its +collateral points, did not, however, excite my surprise; for although I +had left Europe in great hesitation on this subject, and rather believed +that it ran in the contrary direction, I had made such frequent +inquiries during my progress concerning this river, and received from +negroes of different nations such clear and decisive assurance that its +general course was _towards the rising sun_, as scarce left any doubt on +my mind; and more especially as I knew that Major Houghton had collected +similar information in the same manner. + +I waited more than two hours without having an opportunity of crossing +the river; during which time, the people who had crossed carried +information to Mansong, the King, that a white man was waiting for a +passage, and was coming to see him. He immediately sent over one of his +chief men, who informed me that the King could not possibly see me +until he knew what had brought me into his country; and that I must not +presume to cross the river without the King's permission. He therefore +advised me to lodge at a distant village, to which he pointed, for +the night; and said that in the morning he would give me further +instructions how to conduct myself. This was very discouraging. However, +as there was no remedy, I set off for the village; where I found, to my +great mortification, that no person would admit me into his house. I +was regarded with astonishment and fear, and was obliged to sit all day +without victuals in the shade of a tree; and the night threatened to be +very uncomfortable, for the wind rose, and there was great appearance +of a heavy rain; and the wild beasts are so very numerous in the +neighbourhood that I should have been under the necessity of climbing up +the tree, and resting among the branches. About sunset, however, as I +was preparing to pass the night in this manner, and had turned my horse +loose that he might graze at liberty, a woman, returning from the +labours of the field, stopped to observe me, and perceiving that I +was weary and dejected, inquired into my situation, which I briefly +explained to her; whereupon, with looks of great compassion, she took up +my saddle and bridle and told me to follow her. Having conducted me into +her hut, she lighted up a lamp, spread a mat on the floor, and told me +I might remain there for the night. Finding that I was very hungry, she +said she would procure me something to eat. She accordingly went out, +and returned in a short time with a very fine fish; which having caused +to be half broiled upon some embers, she gave me for supper. The rites +of hospitality being thus performed towards a stranger in distress, my +worthy benefactress (pointing to the mat, and telling me I might sleep +there without apprehension), called to the female part of her family, +who had stood gazing on me all the while in fixed astonishment, to +resume their task of spinning cotton, in which they continued to employ +themselves great part of the night. They lightened their labour by +songs, one of which was composed extempore; for I was myself the subject +of it. It was sung by one of the young women, the rest joining in a sort +of chorus. The air was sweet and plaintive, and the words, literally +translated, were these:--"The winds roared and the rains fell. The +white man, faint and weary, came and sat our tree. He has no mother to +bring him milk, no wife to grind his corn." _Chorus_--"Let us pity the +white man; no mother has he," etc., etc. Trifling as this recital may +appear to the reader, to a person in my situation the circumstance was +affecting in the highest degree. I was oppressed by such unexpected +kindness, and sleep fled from my eyes. In the morning I presented my +compassionate landlady with two of the four brass buttons which remained +on my waistcoat; the only recompense I could make her. + + MUNGO PARK. + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +ACROSS THE DESERT OF NUBIA. + + +After a prayer of peace, we committed ourselves to the Desert. Our party +consisted of Ismael the Turk, two Greek servants besides Georgis, who +was almost blind and useless, two Barbarins, who took care of the +camels, Idris, and a young man a relation of his; in all nine persons. +We were all well armed with blunderbusses, swords, pistols, and +double-barrelled guns, except Idris and his lad, who had lances, the +only arms they could use. Five or six naked wretches of the Turcorory +joined us at the watering place, much against my will, for I knew that +we should probably be reduced to the disagreeable alternative of either +seeing them perish of thirst before our eyes, or, by assisting them, +running a great risk of perishing along with them. + +We left Gooz on the 9th of November, at noon, and halted at the little +village of Hassa, where we filled our water-skins--an operation which +occupied a whole day, as we had to take every means to secure them from +leaking or evaporation. While the camels were loading, I bathed myself +with infinite pleasure for a long half hour in the Nile, and thus took +leave of my old acquaintance, very doubtful if we should ever meet +again. We then turned to the north-east, leaving the Nile, and entering +into a bare desert of fixed gravel, without trees, and of a very +disagreeable whitish colour, mixed with small pieces of white marble, +like alabaster. Our camels, we found, were too heavily loaded; but +we comforted ourselves with the reflection, that this fault would +be remedied by the daily consumption of our provisions. We had been +travelling only two days when our misfortunes began, from a circumstance +we had not attended to. Our shoes, that had long needed repair, became +at last absolutely useless, and our feet were much inflamed by the +burning sand. + +On the 13th, we saw, about a mile to the northwest of us, Hambily, a +rock not considerable in size, but, from the plain country in which it +is situated, having the appearance of a great tower or castle. South +of it were too smaller hills, forming, along with it, landmarks of the +utmost consequence to caravans, because they are too considerable in +size to be at any time covered by the moving sands. We alighted on the +following day among some acacia trees, after travelling about twenty +miles. We were here at once surprised and terrified by a sight, surely +one of the most magnificent in the world. In that vast expanse of +desert, we saw a number of prodigious pillars of sand at different +distances, at one time moving with great celerity, at another stalking +on with majestic slowness. At intervals we thought they were coming to +overwhelm us; and again they would retreat, so as to be almost out of +sight, their tops reaching to the very clouds. There the tops often +separated from the bodies; and these, once disjoined, dispersed in +the air, and did not appear more. Sometimes they were broken near the +middle, as if struck with a large cannon shot. About noon, they began to +advance with considerable swiftness upon us, the wind being very strong +at north. Eleven of them ranged alongside of us, about the distance of +three miles. The greatest diameter of the largest appeared to me at that +distance as if it would measure ten feet. They retired from us with a +wind at S.E., leaving an impression upon my mind to which I can give no +name, though surely one ingredient in it was fear, with a considerable +deal of wonder and astonishment. It was vain to think of flying; the +swiftest horse, or fastest sailing ship, could be of no use to carry us +out of this danger; and the full persuasion of this rivetted me to the +spot where I stood, and let the camels gain on me so much, that, in my +state of lameness, it was with some difficulty I could overtake them. +The effect this stupendous sight had upon Idris was to set him to his +prayers, or rather to his charms; for, except the names of God and +Mahomet, all the rest of his words were mere gibberish and nonsense. +Ismael the Turk violently abused him for not praying in the words of the +Koran, at the same time maintaining, with great apparent wisdom, that +nobody had charms to stop these moving sands but the inhabitants of +Arabia Deserta. + +From this day subordination, though it did not entirely cease, rapidly +declined; all was discontent, murmuring, and fear. Our water was greatly +diminished, and that terrible death by thirst began to stare us in the +face, owing, in a great measure, to our own imprudence. Ismael, who had +been left sentinel over the skins of water, had slept so soundly, that +a Turcorory had opened one of the skins that had not been touched, in +order to serve himself out of it at his own discretion. I suppose +that, hearing somebody stir, and fearing detection, the Turcorory had +withdrawn himself as speedily as possible, without tying up the month of +the girba, which we found in the morning with scarce a quart of water in +it. + +On the 16th, our men, if not gay, were in better spirits than I had seen +them since we left Gooz. The rugged top of Chiggre was before us, and we +knew that there we would solace ourselves with plenty of good water. As +we were advancing, Idris suddenly cried out, "Fall upon your faces, for +here is the simoom!" I saw from the southeast a haze come, in colour +like the purple part of the rainbow, but not so compressed or thick. It +did not occupy twenty yards in breadth, and was about twelve feet high +from the ground. It was a kind of blush upon the air, and moved very +rapidly, for I scarce could turn to fall upon the ground, with my head +to the northward, when I felt the heat of its current plainly upon my +face. We all lay flat on the ground, as if dead, till Idris told us it +was blown over. The meteor or purple haze which I saw was indeed past, +but the light air that still blew was of a heat to threaten suffocation. +For my part, I found distinctly in my breast that I had imbibed a part +of it, nor was I free from an asthmatic sensation till I had been some +months in Italy, at the baths of Poretta, nearly two years afterwards. + +This phenomenon of the simoom, unexpected by us, though foreseen by +Idris, caused us all to relapse into our former despondency. It still +continued to blow, so as to exhaust us entirely, though the blast was +so weak as scarcely would have raised a leaf from the ground. Towards +evening it ceased; and a cooling breeze came from the north, blowing +five or six minutes at a time, and then falling calm. We reached Chiggre +that night, very much fatigued. + + BRUCE'S TRAVELS. + + + +[Note:_James Bruce_ (born 1730, died 1794), the African traveller; one +of the early explorers of the Nile.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +A SHIPWRECK ON THE ARABIAN COAST. + + +Another hour of struggle! It was past midnight, or thereabout, and the +storm, instead of abating, blew stronger and stronger. A passenger, one +of the three on the beam astern, felt too numb and wearied out to +retain his hold by the spar any longer; he left it, and swimming with a +desperate effort up to the boat, begged in God's name to be taken in. +Some were for granting his request, others for denying; at last two +sailors, moved with pity, laid hold of his arms where he clung to the +boat's side, and helped him in. We were now thirteen together, and the +boat rode lower down in the water and with more danger than ever: it was +literally a hand's breadth between life and death. Soon after another, +Ibraheem by name, and also a passenger, made a similar attempt to gain +admittance. To comply would have been sheer madness; but the poor wretch +clung to the gunwale, and struggled to clamber over, till the nearest +of the crew, after vainly entreating him to quit hold and return to the +beam, saying, "It is your only chance of life, you must keep to it," +loosened his grasp by main force, and flung him back into the sea, where +he disappeared for ever. "Has Ibraheem reached you?" called out the +captain to the sailor now alone astride of the spar. "Ibraheem is +drowned," came the answer across the waves. "Is drowned," all repeated +in an undertone, adding, "and we too shall soon be drowned also." In +fact, such seemed the only probable end of all our endeavours. For the +storm redoubled in violence; the baling could no longer keep up with the +rate at which the waves entered; the boat became waterlogged; the water +poured in hissing on every side: she was sinking, and we were yet far +out in the open sea. + +"Plunge for it!" a second time shouted the captain. "Plunge who may, I +will stay by the boat so long as the boat stays by me," thought I, and +kept my place. Yoosef, fortunately for him, was lying like a corpse, +past fear or motion; but four of our party, one a sailor and the other +three passengers, thinking that all hope of the boat was now over, and +that nothing remained them but the spar, jumped into the sea. Their loss +saved the remainder; the boat lightened and righted for a moment, the +pilot and I baled away desperately; she rose clear once more of the +water. Those in her were now nine in all--eight men and a boy, the +captain's nephew. + +Meanwhile the sea was running mountains; and during the paroxysm of +struggle, while the boat pitched heavily, the cord attached from her +stern to the beam snapped asunder. One man was on the spar. Yet a minute +or so the moonlight showed us the heads of the five survivors as they +tried to regain the boat; had they done it we were all lost; then a huge +wave separated them from us. "May God have mercy on the poor drowning +men!" exclaimed the captain: their bodies were washed ashore three or +four days later. We now remained sole survivors--if, indeed, we were to +prove so. + +Our men rowed hard, and the night wore on; at last the coast came in +full view. Before us was a high black rock, jutting out into the foaming +sea, whence it rose sheer like the wall of a fortress; at some distance +on the left a peculiar glimmer and a long white line of breakers assured +me of the existence of an even and sandy beach. The three sailors now at +the oars, and the passenger who had taken the place of the fourth, grown +reckless by long toil under the momentary expectation of death, and +longing to see an end anyhow to this protracted misery, were for pushing +the boat on the rocks, because the nearest land, and thus having it all +over as soon as possible. This would have been certain destruction. +The captain and pilot, well nigh stupefied by what they had undergone, +offered no opposition. I saw that a vigorous effort must be made; so I +laid hold of them both, shook them to arouse their attention, and bade +them take heed to what the rowers were about; adding that it was sheer +suicide, and that our only hope of life was to bear up for the sandy +creek, which I pointed out to them at a short distance. + +Thus awakened from their lethargy, they started up, and joined with me +in expostulating with the sailors. But the men doggedly answered that +they could hold out no more; that wherever the land was nearest they +would make for it, come what might; and with this they pulled on +straight towards the cliff. + +The captain hastily thrust the rudder into the pilot's hand, and +springing on one of the sailors, pushed him from the bench and seized +his oar, while I did the same to another on the opposite side; and we +now got the boat's head round towards the bay. The refractory sailors, +ashamed of their own faintheartedness, begged pardon, and promised to +act henceforth according to our orders. We gave them back their oars, +very glad to see a strife so dangerous, especially at such a moment, +soon at an end; and the men pulled for left, though full half an hour's +rowing yet remained between us and the breakers; and the course which +we had to hold was more hazardous than before, because it laid the boat +almost parallel with the sweep of the water: but half an hour! yet I +thought we should never come opposite the desired spot. + +At last we neared it, and then a new danger appeared. The first row of +breakers, rolling like a cataract, was still far off shore, at least a +hundred yards; and between it and the beach appeared a white yeast of +raging waters, evidently ten or twelve feet deep, through which, weary +as we all were, and benumbed with the night-chill and the unceasing +splash of the spray over us, I felt it to be very doubtful whether we +should have strength to struggle. But there was no avoiding it; and when +we drew near the long white line which glittered like a watchfire in the +night, I called out to Yoosef and the lad, both of whom lay plunged +in deathlike stupor, to rise and get ready for the hard swim, now +inevitable. They stood up, the sailors laid aside their oars, and a +moment after the curling wave capsized the boat, and sent her down as +though she had been struck by a cannon-shot, while we remained to fight +for our lives in the sea. + +Confident in my own swimming powers, but doubtful how far those of +Yoosef might reach, I at once turned to look for him; and seeing him +close by me in the water, I caught hold of him, telling him to hold fast +on, and I would help him to land. But, with much presence of mind, he +thrust back my grasp, exclaiming, "Save yourself! I am a good swimmer; +never fear for me." The captain and the young sailor laid hold of the +boy, the captain's nephew, one on either side, and struck out with him +for the shore. It was a desperate effort; every wave overwhelmed us in +its burst, and carried us back in its eddy, while I drank much more salt +water than was at all desirable. At last, after some minutes, long as +hours, I touched land, and scrambled up the sandy beach as though +the avenger of blood had been behind me. One by one the rest came +ashore--some stark naked, having cast off or lost their remaining +clothes in the whirling eddies; others yet retaining some part of their +dress. Every one looked around to see whether his companions arrived; +and when all nine stood together on the beach, all cast themselves +prostrate on the sands, to thank Heaven for a new lease of life granted +after much danger and so many comrades lost. + + W.G. PALGRAVE. + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +AN ARABIAN TOWN. + + +Perhaps my readers will not think it loss of time to accompany us on a +morning visit to the camp and market, to the village gardens and wells; +such visits we often paid, not without interest and pleasure. + +Warm though Raseem is, its mornings, at least at this time of year (the +latter part of September), were delightful. In a pure and mistless sky, +the sun rises over the measureless plain, while the early breeze is yet +cool and invigorating, a privilege enjoyed almost invariably in Arabia, +but wanting too often in Egypt in the west, and India in the east. +At this hour we would often thread the streets by which we had first +entered the town, and go betimes to the Persian camp, where all was +already alive and stirring. Here are arranged on the sand, baskets full +of eggs and dates, flanked by piles of bread and little round cakes of +white butter; bundles of fire-wood are heaped up close by, and pails +of goat's or camel's milk abound; and amid all these sit rows of +countrywomen, haggling with tall Persians, who in broken Arabic try to +beat down the prices, and generally end by paying only double what +they ought. The swaggering, broad-faced, Bagdad camel-drivers, and +ill-looking, sallow youths stand idle everywhere, insulting those whom +they dare, and cringing to their betters like slaves. Persian gentlemen, +too, with grand hooked noses, high caps, and quaintly-cut dresses of gay +patterns, saunter about, discussing their grievances, or quarrelling +with each other, to pass the time, for, unlike an Arab, a Persian shows +at once whatever ill-humour he may feel, and has no shame in giving it +utterance before whomever may be present; nor does he, with the Arab, +consider patience to be and essential point of politeness and dignity. +Not a few of the townsmen are here, chatting or bartering; and Bedouins, +switch in hand. If you ask any chance individual among these latter +what has brought him hither, you may be sure beforehand that the word +"camel," in one or other of its forms of detail, will find place in the +answer. Criers are going up and down the camp with articles of Persian +apparel, cooking pots, and ornaments of various descriptions in their +hands, or carrying them off for higher bidding to the town. + +Having made our morning household purchases at the fair, and the sun +being now an hour or more above the horizon, we think it time to visit +the market-place of the town, which would hardly be open sooner. We +re-enter the city gate, and pass on our way by our house door, where we +leave our bundle of eatables, and regain the high street of Berezdah. +Before long we reach a high arch across the road; this gate divides the +market from the rest of the quarter. We enter. First of all we see a +long range of butchers' shops on either side, thickly hung with flesh of +sheep and camel, and very dirtily kept. Were not the air pure and the +climate healthy, the plague would assuredly be endemic here; but in +Arabia no special harm seems to follow. We hasten on, and next pass +a series of cloth and linen warehouses, stocked partly with +home-manufacture, but more imported; Bagdad cloaks and head-gear, for +instance; Syrian shawls and Egyptian slippers. Here markets follow the +law general throughout the East, that all shops or stores of the same +description should be clustered together; a system whose advantages on +the whole outweigh its inconveniences, at least for small towns like +these, in the large cities and capitals of Europe, greater extent of +locality requires evidently a different method of arrangement: it might +be awkward for the inhabitants of Hyde Park were no hatters to be +found nearer than the Tower. But what is Berezdah compared even with a +second-rate European city? However, in a crowd, it yields to none: the +streets at this time of the day are thronged to choking, and, to make +matters worse, a huge splay-footed camel every now and then, heaving +from side to side like a lubber-rowed boat, with a long beam on his +back, menacing the heads of those in the way, or with two enormous loads +of fire-wood, each as large as himself, sweeping the road before him of +men, women, and children, while the driver, high perched on the hump, +regards such trifles with supreme indifference, so long as he brushes +his path open. Sometimes there is a whole string of these beasts, +the head-rope of each tied to the crupper of his precursor--very +uncomfortable passengers when met with at a narrow turning. + +Through such obstacles we have found or made our way, and are now amid +leather and shoemakers' shops, then among copper and iron-smiths, till +at last we emerge on the central town-square, not a bad one either, nor +very irregular, considering that it is in Raseem. About half one side +is taken up by the great mosque, an edifice nearly two centuries old, +judging by its style and appearance, but it bears on no part of it +either date or inscription. A crack running up one side of the tower +bears witness to an earthquake said to have occurred here about thirty +years since. + +Another side of the square is formed by an open gallery. In its shade +groups of citizens are seated discussing news or business. The central +space is occupied by camels and by bales of various goods, among which +the coffee of Yemen, henna, and saffron, bear a large part. + +From this square several diverging streets run out, each containing a +market-place for this or that ware, and all ending in portals dividing +them from the ordinary habitations. The vegetable and fruit market is +very extensive, and kept almost exclusively by women; so are also the +shops for grocery and spices. + +Rock-salt of remarkable purity and whiteness, from Western Raseem, is +a common article of sale, and enormous flakes of it, often beautifully +crystallized, lay piled up at the shop doors. Sometimes a Persian stood +by, trying his skill at purchase or exchange; but these pilgrims were +in general shy of entering the town, where, truly, they were not in the +best repute. Well-dressed, grave-looking townsmen abound, their yellow +wand of lotus-wood in their hands, and their kerchiefs loosely thrown +over their heads. + +The whole town has an aspect of old but declining prosperity. There are +few new houses, but many falling into ruin. The faces, too, of most we +meet are serious, and their voices in an undertone. Silk dresses are +prohibited by the dominant faction, and tobacco can only be smoked +within doors, and by stealth. + +Enough of the town: the streets are narrow, hot, and dusty; the day, +too, advances; but the gardens are yet cool. So we dash at a venture +through a labyrinth of byways and crossways till we find ourselves in +the wide street that runs immediately along but inside the walls. + +Here is a side gate, but half ruined, with great folding doors, and no +one to open them. The wall of one of the flanking towers has, however, +been broken in, and from thence we hope to find outlet on the gardens +outside. We clamber in, and after mounting a heap of rubbish, once the +foot of a winding staircase, have before us a window looking right on +the gardens. Fortunately we are not the first to try this short cut, and +the truant boys of the town have sufficiently enlarged the aperture and +piled up stones on the ground outside to render the passage tolerably +easy; we follow the indication, and in another minute stand in the open +air without the walls. The breeze is fresh, and will continue so till +noon. Before us are high palm-trees and dark shadows; the ground is +velvet-green with the autumn crop of maize and vetches, and intersected +by a labyrinth of watercourses, some dry, others flowing, for the wells +are at work. + +These wells are much the same throughout Arabia; their only diversity is +in size and depth, but their hydraulic machinery is everywhere alike. +Over the well's month is fixed a crossbeam, supported high in air on +pillars of wood or stone on either side, and on this beam are from three +to six small wheels, over which pass the ropes of as many large leather +buckets, each containing nearly twice the ordinary English measure. +These are let down into the depth, and then drawn up again by camels +or asses, who pace slowly backwards or forwards on an inclined plane +leading from the edge of the well itself to a pit prolonged for some +distance. When the buckets rise to the verge, they tilt over and pour +out their contents by a broad channel into a reservoir hard by, from +which part the watercourses that irrigate the garden. The supply thus +obtained is necessarily discontinuous, and much inferior to what a +little more skill in mechanism affords in Egypt and Syria; while the +awkward shaping and not unfrequently the ragged condition of the buckets +themselves causes half the liquid to fall back into the well before it +reaches the brim. The creaking, singing noise of the wheels, the rush of +water as the buckets attain their turning-point, the unceasing splash of +their overflow dripping back into the source, all are a message of life +and moisture very welcome in this dry and stilly region, and may be +heard far off amid the sandhills, a first intimation to the sun-scorched +traveller of his approach to a cooler resting-place. + + W.G. PALGRAVE. + + + + + * * * * * + + + + + COURTESY. + + + What virtue is so fitting for a knight, + Or for a lady whom a knight should love, + As courtesy; to bear themselves aright + To all of each degree as doth behove? + For whether they be placèd high above + Or low beneath, yet ought they well to know + Their good: that none them rightly may reprove + Of rudeness for not yielding what they owe: + Great skill it is such duties timely to bestow. + Thereto great help Dame Nature's self doth lend: + For some so goodly gracious are by kind, + That every action doth them much commend; + And in the eyes of men great liking find, + Which others that have greater skill in mind, + Though they enforce themselves, cannot attain; + For everything to which one is inclined + Doth best become and greatest grace doth gain; + Yet praise likewise deserve good thewes enforced with pain. + + SPENSER. + + + +[Notes: _Edmund Spenser_ (born 1552, died 1599), the poet who, in +Elizabeth's reign, revived the poetry of England, which since Chaucer's +day, two centuries before, had been flagging. + + +_Gracious are by kind, i.e.,_ by nature. _Kind_ properly means _nature_. + + +_Good thewes_ = good manners or virtues. As _thew_ passes into the +meaning "muscle," so _virtue_ (from _vis_, strength) originally means +_manlike valour_.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +THE QUEST OF THE HOLY GRAIL. + + +Then the King and all estates went home unto Camelot, and so went to +evensong to the great minster. And so after upon that to supper, and +every knight sat in his own place as they were toforehand. Then anon +they heard cracking and crying of thunder, that them thought the place +should all to-drive. In the midst of this blast entered a sunbeam +more clearer by seven times than ever they saw day, and all they were +alighted of the grace of the Holy Ghost. Then began every knight to +behold other, and either saw other by their seeming fairer than ever +they saw afore. Not for then there was no knight might speak one word +a great while, and so they looked every man on other, as they had been +dumb. Then there entered into the hall the Holy Grail, covered with +white samite, but there was none might see it, nor who bare it. And +there was all the hall full filled with good odours, and every knight +had such meats and drinks as he best loved in this world; and when +the Holy Grail had been borne through the hall, then the holy vessel +departed suddenly, that they wist not where it became. Then had they all +breath to speak. And then the King yielded thankings unto God of His +good grace that He had sent them. "Certes," said the King, "we ought to +thank our Lord Jesu greatly, for that he hath shewed us this day at the +reverence of this high feast of Pentecost." "Now," said Sir Gawaine, "we +have been served this day of what meats and drinks we thought on, but +one thing beguiled us: we might not see the Holy Grail, it was so +preciously covered; wherefore I will make here avow, that to-morn, +without longer abiding, I shall labour in the quest of the Sancgreal, +that I shall hold me out a twelvemonth and a day, or more if need be, +and never shall I return again unto the court till I have seen it more +openly than it hath been seen here; and if I may not speed, I shall +return again as he that may not be against the will of our Lord Jesu +Christ." When they of the Table Round heard Sir Gawaine say so, they +arose up the most party, and made such avows as Sir Gawaine had made. + +Anon as King Arthur heard this he was greatly displeased, for he wist +well that they might not again say their avows. "Alas!" said King Arthur +unto Sir Gawaine, "ye have nigh slain me with the avow and promise +that ye have made. For through you ye have bereft me of the fairest +fellowship and the truest of knighthood that ever were seen together in +any realm of the world. For when they depart from hence, I am sure they +all shall never meet more in this world, for they shall die many in the +quest. And so it forethinketh me a little, for I have loved them as well +as my life, wherefore it shall grieve me right sore the departition +of this fellowship. For I have had an old custom to have them in my +fellowship." And therewith the tears filled in his eyes. And then he +said, "Gawaine, Gawaine, ye have set me in great sorrow. For I have +great doubt that my true fellowship shall never meet here again." "Ah," +said Sir Launcelot, "comfort yourself, for it shall be unto us as a +great honour, and much more than if we died in any other places, for of +death we be sure." "Ah, Launcelot," said the King, "the great love +that I have had unto you all the days of my life maketh me to say such +doleful words; for never Christian king had never so many worthy men at +this table as I have had this day at the Round Table, and that is my +great sorrow." When the queen, ladies, and gentlewomen wist these +tidings, they had such sorrow and heaviness that there might no tongue +tell it, for those knights had holden them in honour and charity. + +And when all were armed, save their shields and their helms, then they +came to their fellowship, which all were ready in the same wise for to +go to the minster to hear their service. + +Then, after the service was done, the King would wit how many had taken +the quest of the Holy Grail, and to account them he prayed them all. +Then found they by tale an hundred and fifty, and all were knights of +the Round Table. And then they put on their helms and departed, and +recommended them all wholly unto the queen, and there was weeping and +great sorrow. + +And so they mounted upon their horses and rode through the streets of +Camelot, and there was weeping of the rich and poor, and the King turned +away, and might not speak for weeping. So within a while they came to a +city and a castle that hight Vagon. There they entered into the castle, +and the lord of that castle was an old man that hight Vagon, and he was +a good man of his living, and set open the gates, and made them all the +good cheer that he might. And so on the morrow they were all accorded +that they should depart every each from other. And then they departed on +the morrow with weeping and mourning cheer, and every knight took the +way that him best liked. + + SIR THOMAS MALORY. + + +[Notes: _The Quest of the Holy Grail_. This is taken from the 'Mort +d'Arthur,' written about the end of the fifteenth century by Sir Thomas +Malory, and one of the first books printed in England by Caxton. King +Arthur was at the head and centre of the company of Knights of the Table +Bound. The _Holy Grail_, or the _Sangreal,_ was the dish said to have +held the Paschal lamb at the Last Supper, and to have been possessed by +Joseph of Arimathea. + +Notice throughout this piece the archaic phrases used.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +VISIT TO SIR ROGER DE COVERLEY'S COUNTRY SEAT. + + +Having often received an invitation from my friend Sir Roger de Coverley +to pass away a month with him in the country, I last week accompanied +him thither, and am settled with him for some time at his country-house, +where I intend to form several of my ensuing speculations. Sir Roger, +who is very well acquainted with my humour, lets me rise and go to bed +when I please, dine at his own table or in my own chamber, as I think +fit, sit still and say nothing without bidding me be merry. + +I am the more at ease in Sir Roger's family, because it consists of +sober and staid persons; for, as the knight is the best master in the +world, he seldom changes his servants; and as he is beloved by all +about, his servants never care for leaving him; by this means his +domestics are all in years, and grown old with their master. You would +take his _valet de chambre_ for his brother; his butler is grey-headed, +his groom is one of the gravest men that I have ever seen, and his +coachman has the looks of a Privy Counsellor. You see the goodness of +the master even in the old house-dog, and in a grey pad that is kept in +the stable with great care and tenderness, out of regard for his past +services, though he has been useless for several years. + +I could not but observe, with a great deal of pleasure, the joy that +appeared in the countenance of these ancient domestics upon my friend's +arrival at his country-seat. Some of them could not refrain from tears +at the sight of their old master; every one of them pressed forward to +do something for him, and seemed discouraged if they were not employed. +At the same time the good old knight, with a mixture of a father and the +master of the family, tempered the inquiries after his own affairs with +several kind questions about themselves. This humanity and good-nature +engages everybody to him, so that when he is pleasant upon any of them, +all his family are in good-humour, and none so much as the person he +diverts himself with. On the contrary, if he coughs, or betrays any +infirmity of old age, it is easy for a stander-by to observe a secret +concern in the looks of all his servants. + +My chief companion, when Sir Roger is diverting himself in the woods or +the fields, is a very venerable man who is ever with Sir Roger, and has +lived at his house in the nature of a chaplain above thirty years. This +gentleman is a person of good sense and some learning; of a very regular +life and obliging conversation: he heartily loves Sir Roger, and knows +that he is very much in the old knight's esteem, so that he lives in the +family rather as a relation than a dependent. + +I have observed in several of my papers, that my friend Sir Roger, +amidst all his good qualities, is something of a humorist; and that his +virtues, as well as imperfections, are, as it were, tinged by a certain +extravagance which makes them particularly _his_, and distinguishes them +from those of other men. This cast of mind, as it is generally very +innocent in itself, so it renders his conversation highly agreeable, and +more delightful than the same degree of sense and virtue would appear in +their common and ordinary colours. As I was walking with him last night, +he asked me how I liked the good man I have just now mentioned? And +without staying for an answer, told me, "That he was afraid of being +insulted with Latin and Greek at his own table; for which reason he +desired a particular friend of his at the University to find him out a +clergyman rather of plain sense than much learning; of a good aspect, a +clear voice, a sociable temper, and, if possible, a man that understood +a little of backgammon. My friend," says Sir Roger, "found me out this +gentleman, who, besides the endowments required of him, is, they tell +me, a good scholar, though he does not show it. I have given him the +parsonage of the parish; and, because I know his value, have settled +upon him a good annuity for life. If he outlives me, he shall find that +he was higher in my esteem than perhaps he thinks he is. He has now been +with me thirty years, and though he does not know I have taken notice of +it, has never in all that time asked anything of me for himself, though +he is every day soliciting me for something in behalf of one or other +of my tenants, his parishioners. There has not been a law-suit in the +parish since he has lived among them: if any dispute arises, they apply +themselves to him for the decision; if they do not acquiesce in his +judgment, which I think never happened above once or twice, at most, +they appeal to me. At his first settling with me, I made him a present +of all the good sermons that have been printed in English, and only +begged of him that every Sunday he would pronounce one of them in the +pulpit. Accordingly, he has digested them into such a series, that they +follow one another naturally, and make a continued series of practical +divinity." + + ADDISON. + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +THE DEAD ASS. + + +"And this," said he, putting the remains of a crust into his wallet, +"and this should have been thy portion," said he, "hadst thou been alive +to have shared it with me." I thought by the accent it had been an +apostrophe to his child; but 'twas to his ass, and to the very ass we +had seen dead on the road. The man seemed to lament it much; and it +instantly brought into my mind Sancho's lamentation for his; but he did +it with more true touches of nature. + +The mourner was sitting on a stone bench at the door, with the ass's +pannel and its bridle on one side, which he took up from time to +time--then laid them down--looked at them--and shook his head. He then +took his crust of bread out of his wallet again, as if to eat it; +held it some time in his hand--then laid it upon the bit of his ass's +bridle--looked wistfully at the little arrangement he had made--and then +gave a sigh. + +The simplicity of his grief drew numbers about him, and La Fleur among +the rest, whilst the horses were getting ready; as I continued sitting +in the postchaise, I could see and hear over their heads. + +He said he had come last from Spain, where he had been from the farthest +borders of Franconia; and he had got so far on his return home, when his +ass died. Every one seemed desirous to know what business could have +taken so old and poor a man so far a journey from his own home. + +"It had pleased heaven," he said, "to bless him with three sons, the +finest lads in all Germany; but having in one week lost two of them by +the small-pox, and the youngest falling ill of the same distemper, he +was afraid of being bereft of them all; and made a vow, if Heaven would +not take him from him also, he would go in gratitude to St. Iago, in +Spain." + +When the mourner got thus far on his story, he stopped to pay nature her +tribute, and wept bitterly. + +He said Heaven had accepted the conditions, and that he had set out from +his cottage, with this poor creature, who had been a patient partner of +his journey--that it had eat the same bread with him all the way, and +was unto him as a friend. + +Everybody who stood about heard the poor fellow with concern. La Fleur +offered him money; the mourner said he did not want it; it was not the +value of the ass, but the loss of him. "The ass," he said, "he was +assured, loved him;" and upon this, told them a long story of a +mischance upon their passage over the Pyrenean mountains, which had +separated them from each other three days; during which time the ass had +sought him as much as he had sought the ass, and they had neither scarce +eat or drank till they met. + +"Thou hast one comfort, friend," said I, "at least in the loss of the +poor beast; I'm sure thou hast been a merciful master to him." "Alas!" +said the mourner, "I thought so when he was alive; but now he is dead I +think otherwise. I fear the weight of myself and my afflictions together +have been too much for him--they have shortened the poor creature's +days, and I fear I have them to answer for." "Shame on the world!" said +I to myself. "Did we love each other as this poor soul but loved his +ass, 'twould be something." + + STERNE. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of MacMillan's Reading Books, by Anonymous + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MACMILLAN'S READING BOOKS *** + +***** This file should be named 11230-8.txt or 11230-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/1/2/3/11230/ + +Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Frank van Drogen and PG Distributed +Proofreaders + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you +do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the +rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose +such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and +research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do +practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is +subject to the trademark license, especially commercial +redistribution. + + + +*** START: FULL LICENSE *** + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project +Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at +https://gutenberg.org/license). + + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy +all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. +If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the +terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or +entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. + +1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement +and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation" +or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the +collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an +individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are +located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from +copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative +works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg +are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project +Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by +freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of +this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with +the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by +keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project +Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in +a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check +the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement +before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or +creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project +Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning +the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United +States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate +access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently +whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the +phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project +Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, +copied or distributed: + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived +from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is +posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied +and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees +or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work +with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the +work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 +through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the +Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or +1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional +terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked +to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the +permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any +word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or +distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than +"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version +posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), +you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a +copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon +request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other +form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided +that + +- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is + owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he + has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the + Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments + must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you + prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax + returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and + sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the + address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to + the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." + +- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or + destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium + and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of + Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any + money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days + of receipt of the work. + +- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set +forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from +both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael +Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the +Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm +collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain +"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual +property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a +computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by +your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right +of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with +your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with +the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a +refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity +providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to +receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy +is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further +opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO +WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. +If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the +law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be +interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by +the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any +provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance +with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, +promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, +harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, +that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do +or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm +work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any +Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. + + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers +including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists +because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from +people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need, is critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. +To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 +and the Foundation web page at https://www.pglaf.org. + + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive +Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at +https://pglaf.org/fundraising. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent +permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. +Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered +throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at +809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email +business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact +information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official +page at https://pglaf.org + +For additional contact information: + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To +SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any +particular state visit https://pglaf.org + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including including checks, online payments and credit card +donations. To donate, please visit: https://pglaf.org/donate + + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm +concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared +with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project +Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + +Each eBook is in a subdirectory of the same number as the eBook's +eBook number, often in several formats including plain vanilla ASCII, +compressed (zipped), HTML and others. + +Corrected EDITIONS of our eBooks replace the old file and take over +the old filename and etext number. The replaced older file is renamed. +VERSIONS based on separate sources are treated as new eBooks receiving +new filenames and etext numbers. + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + https://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. + +EBooks posted prior to November 2003, with eBook numbers BELOW #10000, +are filed in directories based on their release date. If you want to +download any of these eBooks directly, rather than using the regular +search system you may utilize the following addresses and just +download by the etext year. + + https://www.gutenberg.org/etext06 + + (Or /etext 05, 04, 03, 02, 01, 00, 99, + 98, 97, 96, 95, 94, 93, 92, 92, 91 or 90) + +EBooks posted since November 2003, with etext numbers OVER #10000, are +filed in a different way. The year of a release date is no longer part +of the directory path. The path is based on the etext number (which is +identical to the filename). The path to the file is made up of single +digits corresponding to all but the last digit in the filename. For +example an eBook of filename 10234 would be found at: + + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/0/2/3/10234 + +or filename 24689 would be found at: + https://www.gutenberg.org/2/4/6/8/24689 + +An alternative method of locating eBooks: + https://www.gutenberg.org/GUTINDEX.ALL + + diff --git a/old/11230-8.zip b/old/11230-8.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..5e0038b --- /dev/null +++ b/old/11230-8.zip diff --git a/old/11230.txt b/old/11230.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..877e9b5 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/11230.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11386 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of MacMillan's Reading Books, by Anonymous + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: MacMillan's Reading Books + Book V + +Author: Anonymous + +Release Date: February 22, 2004 [EBook #11230] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MACMILLAN'S READING BOOKS *** + + + + +Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Frank van Drogen and PG Distributed +Proofreaders + + + + + +MACMILLAN'S + +READING BOOKS. + +Book V. + + + +STANDARD V. + + + +ENGLISH CODE. + +_For Ordinary Pass_. + +Improved reading, and recitation of not less than seventy-five lines of +poetry. + +N.B.--The passages for recitation may be taken from one or more standard +authors, previously approved by the Inspector. Meaning and allusions to +be known, and, if well known, to atone for deficiencies of memory. + +_For Special Grant (Art. 19, C. 1)._ + +Parsing, with analysis of a "simple" sentence. + + + + +SCOTCH CODE. + + +_For Ordinary Pass_. + +Reading, with expression, a short passage of prose or of poetry, with +explanation, grammar, and elementary analysis of simple sentences. + +Specific Subject--English literature and language, 2nd year. (_Art. 21 +and Schedule IV., Scotch Code._) + +Three hundred lines of poetry, not before brought up, repeated; with +knowledge of meaning and allusions, and of the derivations of words. + + + + +PREFACE TO BOOK V. + + +This seems a fitting place in which to explain the general aim of +this series of Reading Books. Primarily, it is intended to provide a +systematic course for use in schools which are under State inspection; +and, with this view, each Book in the series, after the Primer, is drawn +up so as to meet the requirements, as set forth in the English and +Scotch codes issued by the Committees of Council on Education, of the +Standard to which it corresponds. + +This special adaptation will not, it is hoped, render the series less +useful in other schools. The graduated arrangement of the books, +although, perhaps, one to which every teacher may not choose to conform, +may yet serve as a test by which to compare the attainments of the +pupils in any particular school with those which, according to the +codes, may be taken as the average expected from the pupils in schools +where the Standard examination is, necessarily, enforced. + +The general character of the series is literary, and not technical. +Scientific extracts have been avoided. The teaching of special subjects +is separately recognised by the codes, and provided for by the numerous +special handbooks which have been published. The separation of the +reading class from such teaching will prove a gain to both. The former +must aim chiefly at giving to the pupils the power of accurate, and, +if possible, apt and skilful expression; at cultivating in them a good +literary taste, and at arousing a desire of further reading. All +this, it is believed, can best be done where no special or technical +information has to be extracted from the passages read. + +In the earlier Books the subject, the language, and the moral are all +as direct and simple as possible. As they advance, the language becomes +rather more intricate, because a studied simplicity, when detected +by the pupil, repels rather than attracts him. The subjects are more +miscellaneous; but still, as far as possible, kept to those which can +appeal to the minds of scholars of eleven or twelve years of age, +without either calling for, or encouraging, precocity. In Books II., +III., and IV., a few old ballads and other pieces have been purposely +introduced; as nothing so readily expands the mind and lifts it out of +habitual and sluggish modes of thought, as forcing upon the attention +the expressions and the thoughts of an entirely different time. + +The last, or Sixth Book, may be thought too advanced for its purpose. +But, in the first place, many of the pieces given in it, though selected +for their special excellence, do not involve any special difficulties; +and, in the second place, it will be seen that the requirements of the +English Code of 1875 in the Sixth Standard really correspond in some +degree to those of the special subject of English literature, formerly +recognised by the English, and still recognised by the Scotch Code. +Besides this, the Sixth Book is intended to supply the needs of pupil +teachers and of higher classes; and to be of interest enough to be read +by the scholar out of school-hours, perhaps even after school is done +with altogether. To such it may supply the bare outlines of English +literature; and may, at least, introduce them to the best English +authors. The aim of all the extracts in the book may not be fully +caught, as their beauty certainly cannot be fully appreciated, by +youths; but they may, at least, serve the purpose of all education--that +of stimulating the pupil to know more. + +The editor has to return his thanks for the kindness by which certain +extracts have been placed at his disposal by the following authors +and publishers:--Mr. Ruskin and Mr. William Allingham; Mr. Nimmo (for +extract from Hugh Miller's works); Mr. Nelson (for poems by Mr. and Mrs. +Howitt); Messrs. Edmonston and Douglas (for extract from Dasent's "Tales +from the Norse"); Messrs. Chapman and Hall (for extracts from the works +of Charles Dickens and Mr. Carlyle); Messrs. Longmans, Green, and Co. +(for extracts from the works of Macaulay and Mr. Froude); Messrs. +Routledge and Co. (for extracts from Miss Martineau's works); Mr. Murray +(for extracts from the works of Dean Stanley); and many others. + + + + + +BOOK V. + + +CONTENTS. + +_Prose._ + +PREFACE + +INTRODUCTION + +INCIDENT IN THE LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON _Warner's Tour in the Northern +Counties._ + +THE OLD PHILOSOPHER AND THE YOUNG LADY _Jane Taylor_ + +BARBARA S---- _Charles Lamb_ + +DR. ARNOLD _Tom Brown's School Days_ + +BOYHOOD'S WORK [ditto] + +WORK IN THE WORLD [ditto] + +CASTLES IN THE AIR _Addison_ + +THE DEATH OF NELSON _Southey_ + +LEARNING TO RIDE _T. Hughes_ + +MOSES AT THE FAIR _Goldsmith_ + +WHANG THE MILLER [ditto] + +AN ESCAPE _Defoe's Robinson Crusoe_ + +NECESSITY THE MOTHER OF INVENTION [ditto] + +LABRADOR _Southey's Omniana_ + +GROWTH OF EUROPEAN CIVILIZATION IN THE TWELFTH CENTURY _Robertson_ + +A WHALE HUNT _Scott_ + +A SHIPWRECK _Charles Kingsley_ + +THE BLACK PRINCE _Dean Stanley_ + +THE ASSEMBLY OF URI _E.A. Freeman_ + +MY WINTER GARDEN _Charles Kingsley_ + +ASPECTS OF NORTHERN AND SOUTHERN COUNTRIES _John Ruskin_ + +COLUMBUS IN SIGHT OF LAND _Washington Irving_ + +COLUMBUS SHIPWRECKED [ditto] + +ROBBED IN THE DESERT _Mungo Park_ + +ARISTIDES _Plutarch's Lives_ + +THE VENERABLE BEDE _J.R. Green_ + +THE DEATH OF ANSELM _Dean Church_ + +THE MURDER OF BECKET _Dean Stanley_ + +THE DEATH OF ELIZABETH _J.R. Green_ + +THE BATTLE OF NASEBY _Defoe_ + +THE PILGRIMS AND GIANT DESPAIR _Bunyan_ + +A HARD WINTER _Rev. Gilbert White_ + +A PORTENTOUS SUMMER [ditto] + +A THUNDERSTORM [ditto] + +CHARACTER OF SIR WALTER SCOTT _J. Lockhart_ + +MUMPS'S HALL _Scott_ + +THE PORTEOUS MOB [ditto] + +THE PORTEOUS MOB (_continued_) [ditto] + +JOSIAH WEDGWOOD _Speech by Mr. Gladstone_ + +THE CRIMEAN WAR _Speech by Mr. Disraeli_ + +NATIONAL MORALITY _Speech by Mr. Bright_ + +THE PLEASURES OF A LIFE OF LABOUR _Hugh Miller_ + +THE FLIGHT OF BIRDS _Rev. Gilbert White_ + +THE BATTLE OF CORUNNA _Napier_ + +BATTLE OF ALBUERA _Napier_ + +CHARGE OF THE LIGHT BRIGADE AT BALAKLAVA _The "Times" Correspondent + +AFRICAN HOSPITALITY _Mungo Park_ + +ACROSS THE DESERT OF NUBIA _Bruce's Travels_ + +A SHIPWRECK ON THE ARABIAN COAST _W.G. Palgrave_ + +AN ARABIAN TOWN _W.G. Palgrave_ + +THE QUEST OF THE HOLY GRAIL _Sir Thomas Malory_ + +VISIT TO SIR ROGER DE COVERLEY'S COUNTRY SEAT _Addison_ + +THE DEAD ASS _Sterne_ + + +_Poetry_. + +THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH _H.W. Longfellow_ + +MEN OF ENGLAND _Campbell_ + +A BALLAD _Goldsmith_ + +MARTYRS _Cowper_ + +A PSALM OF LIFE _H.W. Longfellow_ + +THE ANT AND THE CATERPILLAR _Cunningham_ + +REPORT OF AN ADJUDGED CASE _Couper_ + +THE INCHCAPE BELL _Southey_ + +BATTLE OF THE BALME _Campbell_ + +LOCHINVAR _Scott_ + +THE CHAMELEON _Merrick_ + +A WISH _Pope_ + +A SEA SONG _Cunningham_ + +ON THE LOSS OF THE 'ROYAL GEORGE' _Cowper_ + +RULE BRITANNIA _Thomson_ + +WATERLOO _Byron_ + +IVRY _Macaulay_ + +ANCIENT GREECE _Byron_ + +THE TEMPLE OF FAME _Pope_ + +A HAPPY LIFE _Sir Henry Wotton_ + +MAN'S SERVANTS _George Herbert_ + +VIRTUE _George Herbert_ + +DEATH THE CONQUEROR _James Shirley_ + +THE PASSIONS _Collins_ + +THE VISION OF BELSHAZZAR _Byron_ + +YE MARINERS OF ENGLAND _Campbell_ + +A SHIPWRECK _Byron_ + +THE HAPPY WARRIOR _Wordsworth_ + +LIBERTY _Cowper_ + +THE TROSACHS _Scott_ + +LOCHIEL'S WARNING _Campbell_ + +REST FROM BATTLE _Pope_ + +THE SAXON AND THE GAEL _Scott_ + +THE SAXON AND THE GAEL _(continued)_ _Scott_ + +THE WINTER EVENING _Cowper_ + +MAZEPPA _Byron_ + +HYMN TO DIANA _Ben Jonson_ + +L'ALLEGRO _Milton_ + +THE VILLAGE _Goldsmith_ + +THE MERCHANT OF VENICE _Shakespeare_ + +IL PENSEROSO _Milton_ + +COURTESY _Spenser_ + +NOTES + + + + + + + +BOOK V. + + + + +INTRODUCTION. + + +Throughout this book, and the next, you will find passages taken from +the writings of the best English authors. But the passages are not all +equal, nor are they all such as we would call "the best," and the more +you read and are able to judge them for yourselves, the better you will +be able to see what is the difference between the best and those that +are not so good. + +By the best authors are meant those who have written most skilfully +in prose and verse. Some of these have written in prose, because they +wished to tell us something more fully and freely than they could do if +they tied themselves to lines of an equal number of syllables, or ending +with the same sound, as men do when they write poetry. Others have +written in verse, because they wished rather to make us think over +and over again about the same thing, and, by doing so, to teach +us, gradually, how much we could learn from one thing; if we think +sufficiently long and carefully about it; and, besides this, they knew +that rhythmical or musical language would keep longest in our memory +anything which they wished to remain there; and by being stored up in +our mind, would enrich us in all our lives after. + +In these books you will find pieces taken from authors both in prose and +verse. But of the authors who have made themselves famous by the books +which they have written in our language, many had to be set aside. +Because many writers, though their books are famous, have written so +long ago, that the language which they use, though it is really the same +language as our own, is yet so old-fashioned that it is not readily +understood. By and by, when you are older, you may read these books, and +find it interesting to notice how the language is gradually changing; so +that, though we can easily understand what our grandfathers or our great +grandfathers wrote, yet we cannot understand, without carefully studying +it, what was written by our own ancestors a thousand, or even five +hundred, years ago. + +The first thing, however, that you have to do--and, perhaps, this book +may help you to do it--is to learn what is the best way of writing or +speaking our own language of the present day. You cannot learn this +better than by reading and remembering what has been written by men, +who, because they were very great, or because they laboured very hard, +have obtained a great command over the language. When we speak of +obtaining a command over language we mean that they have been able to +say, in simple, plain words, exactly what they mean. This is not so easy +a matter as you may at first think it to be. Those who write well do not +use roundabout ways of saying a thing, or they might weary us; they +do not use words or expressions which might mean one or other of two +things, or they might confuse us; they do not use bombastic language, or +language which is like a vulgar and too gaudy dress, or they might make +us laugh at them; they do not use exaggerated language, or, worse than +all, they might deceive us. If you look at many books which are written +at the present day, or at many of the newspapers which appear every +morning, you will find that those who write them often forget these +rules; and after we have read for a short time what they have written, +we are doubtful about what they mean, and only sure that they are trying +to attract foolish people, who like bombastic language as they like too +gaudy dress, and are caring little whether what they write is strictly +true or not. + +It is, therefore, very important that you should take as your examples +those who have written very well and very carefully, and who have been +afraid lest by any idle or careless expression they might either lead +people to lose sight of what is true, or might injure our language, +which has grown up so slowly, which is so dear to us, and the beauty of +which we might, nevertheless, so easily throw away. + +As you read specimens of what these authors have written, you will find +that they excel chiefly in the following ways: + +First. They tell us just what they mean; neither more nor less. + +Secondly. They never leave us doubtful as to anything we ought to know +in order to understand them. If they tell us a story, they make us feel +as if we saw all that they tell us, actually taking place. + +Thirdly. They are very careful never to use a word unless it is +necessary; never to think a word so worthless a thing that it can be +dragged in only because it sounds well. + +Fourthly. When they rouse our feelings, they do so, not that they may +merely excite or amuse us, but that they may make us sympathise more +fully with what they have to tell. + +In these matters they are mostly alike; but in other matters you will +find that they differ from each other greatly. Our language has come +from two sources. One of these is the English language as talked by our +remote ancestors, the other is the Latin language, which came to us +through French, and from which we borrowed a great deal when our +language was getting into the form it now has. Many of our words and +expressions, therefore, are Old English, while others are borrowed from +Latin. Some authors prefer to use, where they can, old English words and +expressions, which are shorter, plainer, and more direct; others prefer +the Latin words, which are more ornamental and elaborate, and perhaps +fit for explaining what is obscure, and for showing us the difference +between things that are very like. This is one great contrast; and there +are others which you will see for yourselves as you go on. And while +you notice carefully what is good in each, you should be careful not to +imitate too exactly the peculiarities, which may be the faults, in any +one. + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +INCIDENT IN THE LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON. + + +During the last visit Dr. Johnson paid to Lichfield, the friends with +whom he was staying missed him one morning at the breakfast-table. On +inquiring after him of the servants, they understood he had set off from +Lichfield at a very early hour, without mentioning to any of the +family whither he was going. The day passed without the return of the +illustrious guest, and the party began to be very uneasy on his account, +when, just before the supper-hour, the door opened, and the doctor +stalked into the room. A solemn silence of a few minutes ensued, nobody +daring to inquire the cause of his absence, which was at last +relieved by Johnson addressing the lady of the house in the following +manner:--"Madam, I beg your pardon for the abruptness of my departure +from your house this morning, but I was constrained to it by my +conscience. Fifty years ago, madam, on this day, I committed a breach of +filial piety, which has ever since lain heavy on my mind, and has +not till this day been expiated. My father, as you recollect, was a +bookseller, and had long been in the habit of attending Lichfield +market, and opening a stall for the sale of his books during that day. +Confined to his bed by indisposition, he requested me, this time fifty +years ago, to visit the market, and attend the stall in his place. But, +madam, my pride prevented me from doing my duty, and I gave my father a +refusal. To do away the sin of this disobedience, I this day went in a +post-chaise to Lichfield, and going into the market at the time of high +business, uncovered my head, and stood with it bare an hour before the +stall which my father had formerly used, exposed to the sneers of the +standers-by and the inclemency of the weather--a penance by which I +hope I have propitiated Heaven for this only instance, I believe, of +contumacy towards my father." + + Warner's _Tour in the Northern +Counties_. + + + +[Notes: _Dr. Samuel Johnson_, born 1709, died 1784 By hard and unaided +toil he won his way to the front rank among the literary men of his day. +He deserves the honour of having been the first to free literature from +the thraldom of patronage. + + +_Filial piety_. Piety is used here not in a religious sense, but in its +stricter sense of dutifulness. In Virgil "the Pious Aneas" means "Aneas +who showed dutifulness to his father."] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +THE OLD PHILOSOPHER AND THE YOUNG LADY. + + + "Alas!" exclaimed a silver-headed sage, "how narrow is the +utmost extent of human knowledge! I have spent my life in acquiring +knowledge, but how little do I know! The farther I attempt to penetrate +the secrets of nature, the more I am bewildered and benighted. Beyond +a certain limit all is but conjecture: so that the advantage of the +learned over the ignorant consists greatly in having ascertained how +little is to be known. + +"It is true that I can measure the sun, and compute the distances of the +planets; I can calculate their periodical movements, and even ascertain +the laws by which they perform their sublime revolutions; but with +regard to their construction, to the beings which inhabit them, their +condition and circumstances, what do I know more than the clown?-- +Delighting to examine the economy of nature in our own world, I have +analyzed the elements, and given names to their component parts. And +yet, should I not be as much at a loss to explain the burning of fire, +or to account for the liquid quality of water, as the vulgar, who use +and enjoy them without thought or examination?--I remark, that all +bodies, unsupported, fall to the ground, and I am taught to account for +this by the law of gravitation. But what have I gained here more than +a term? Does it convey to my mind any idea of the nature of that +mysterious and invisible chain which draws all things to a common +centre?--Pursuing the track of the naturalist, I have learned to +distinguish the animal, the vegetable, and the mineral kingdoms, and to +divide these into their distinct tribes and families;--but can I +tell, after all this toil, whence a single blade of grass derives its +vitality?--Could the most minute researches enable me to discover the +exquisite pencil that paints the flower of the field? and have I ever +detected the secret that gives their brilliant dye to the ruby and the +emerald, or the art that enamels the delicate shell?--I observe the +sagacity of animals--I call it instinct, and speculate upon its various +degrees of approximation to the reason of man; but, after all, I know as +little of the cogitations of the brute as he does of mine. When I see a +flight of birds overhead, performing their evolutions, or steering +their course to some distant settlement, their signals and cries are +as unintelligible to me as are the learned languages to an unlettered +mechanic: I understand as little of their policy and laws as they do of +'Blackstone's Commentaries.' + +"Alas! then, what have I gained by my laborious researches but an +humbling conviction of my weakness and ignorance! Of how little has +man, at his best estate, to boast! What folly in him to glory in his +contracted powers, or to value himself upon his imperfect acquisitions!" + + * * * * * + +"Well!" exclaimed a young lady, just returned from school, "my education +is at last finished: indeed, it would be strange if, after five years' +hard application, anything were left incomplete. Happily, it is all over +now, and I have nothing to do but exercise my various accomplishments. + +"Let me see!--as to French, I am mistress of that, and speak it, if +possible, with more fluency than English. Italian I can read with ease, +and pronounce very well, as well at least, and better, than any of my +friends; and that is all one need wish for in Italian. Music I have +learned till I am perfectly sick of it. But, now that we have a grand +piano, it will be delightful to play when we have company. And then +there are my Italian songs, which everybody allows I sing with taste, +and as it is what so few people can pretend to, I am particularly glad +that I can. My drawings are universally admired, especially the shells +and flowers, which are beautiful, certainly: besides this, I have a +decided taste in all kinds of fancy ornaments. And then, my dancing and +waltzing, in which our master himself owned that he could take me no +farther;--just the figure for it certainly! it would be unpardonable +if I did not excel. As to common things, geography, and history, and +poetry, and philosophy, thank my stars, I have got through them all! so +that I may consider myself not only perfectly accomplished, but also +thoroughly well informed. + +"Well, to be sure, how much I have fagged through; the only wonder is +that one head can contain it all!" + + JANE TAYLOR. + + +[Note: "_Blackstone's Commentaries_" The great standard work on +the theory and practice of the English law; written by Sir William +Blackstone (1723-1780).] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + + THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. + + + Under a spreading chestnut tree, + The village smithy stands; + The smith, a mighty man is he, + With large and sinewy hands; + And the muscles of his brawny arms + Are strong as iron bands. + + His hair is crisp, and black, and long, + His face is like the tan; + His brow is wet with honest sweat, + He earns whate'er he can, + And looks the whole world in the face, + For he owes not any man. + + Week in, week out, from morn till night, + You can hear his bellows blow; + You can hear him swing his heavy sledge, + With measured beat and slow, + Like a sexton ringing the village bell, + When the evening sun is low. + + And children coming home from school + Look in at the open door; + They love to see the flaming forge, + And hear the bellows roar, + And catch the burning sparks that fly + Like chaff from a threshing-floor. + + He goes on Sunday to the church, + And sits among his boys; + He hears the parson pray and preach, + He hears his daughter's voice + Singing in the village choir, + And it makes his heart rejoice. + + It sounds to him like her mother's voice, + Singing in Paradise! + He needs must think of her once more, + How in the grave she lies; + And with his hard, rough hand he wipes + A tear out of his eyes. + + Toiling,--rejoicing,--sorrowing, + Onward through life he goes; + Each morning sees some task begin, + Each evening sees it close; + Something attempted, something done, + Has earned a night's repose. + + Thanks, thanks to thee, my worthy friend, + For the lesson thou hast taught! + Thus at the flaming forge of life + Our fortunes must be wrought; + Thus on its sounding anvil shaped + Each burning deed and thought! + + + H.W. LONGFLLLOW. + + + +[Notes: _Henry Wadsworth Longfellow_, one of the foremost among +contemporary American poets. Born in 1807. His chief poems are +'Evangeline' and 'Hiawatha.' + + +_His face is like the tan. Tan_ is the bark of the oak, bruised and +broken for tanning leather. + + +_Thus at the flaming forge of life, &c._ = As iron is softened at +the forge and beaten into shape on the anvil, so by the trials and +circumstances of life, our thoughts and actions are influenced and our +characters and destinies decided. The metaphor is made more complicated +by being broken up.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + + MEN OF ENGLAND. + + + Men of England! who inherit + Rights that cost your sires their blood! + Men whose undegenerate spirit + Has been proved on land and flood: + + By the foes ye've fought uncounted, + By the glorious deeds ye've done, + Trophies captured--breaches mounted, + Navies conquer'd--kingdoms won! + + Yet remember, England gathers + Hence but fruitless wreaths of fame, + If the virtues of your fathers + Glow not in your hearts the same. + + What are monuments of bravery, + Where no public virtues bloom? + What avail in lands of slavery + Trophied temples, arch, and tomb? + + Pageants!--let the world revere us + For our people's rights and laws, + And the breasts of civic heroes + Bared in Freedom's holy cause. + + Yours are Hampden's Russell's glory, + Sydney's matchless shade is your,-- + Martyrs in heroic story, + Worth a thousand Agincourts! + + We're the sons of sires that baffled + Crown'd and mitred tyranny: + They defied the field and scaffold, + For their birthrights--so will we. + + CAMPBELL. + + + +[Notes: _Thomas Campbell_, born 1777, died 1844. Author of the +'Pleasures of Hope,' 'Gertrude of Wyoming,' and many lyrics. His poetry +is careful, scholarlike and polished. _Men whose undegenerate spirit, +&c._ In prose, this would run, "(Ye) men whose spirit has been proved +(to be) undegenerate," &c. The word "undegenerate," which is introduced +only as an epithet, is the real predicate of the sentence. + + +_By the foes ye've fought uncounted_. "Uncounted" agreeing with "foes." + + +_Fruitless wreaths of fame_. A poetical figure, taken from the wreaths +of laurel given as prizes in the ancient games of Greece. "Past history +will give fame to a country, but nothing more fruitful than fame, unless +its virtues are kept alive." + + +_Trophied temples, i.e.,_ Temples hung (after the fashion of the +ancients) with trophies. + + +_Arch, i.e_., the triumphal arch erected by the Romans in honour of +victorious generals. + + +_Pageants_ = "these are nought but pageants." + + +_And_ (for) _the beasts of civic heroes_. Civic heroes, those who have +striven for the rights of their fellow citizens. + + +_Hampden, i.e_., John Hampden (born 1594, died 1643), the maintainer +of the rights of the people in the reign of Charles I. He resisted the +imposition of ship-money, and died in a skirmish at Chalgrove during the +Civil War. + + +_Russell, i.e_., Lord William Russell, beheaded in 1683, in the reign +of Charles II. on a charge of treason. He had resisted the Court in its +aims at establishing the doctrine of passive obedience. + + +_Sydney, i.e.,_ Algernon Sydney. The friend of Russell, who met with the +same fate in the same year. + + +_Sydney's matchless shade_. Shade = spirit or memory. + + +_Agincourt_. The victory won by Henry V. in France, in 1415. + + +_Crown'd and mitred tyranny_. Explain this.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +BARBABA S----. + + +On the noon of the 14th of November, 1743, just as the clock had struck +one, Barbara S----, with her accustomed punctuality, ascended the long, +rabbling staircase, with awkward interposed landing-places, which led to +the office, or rather a sort of box with a desk in it, whereat sat the +then Treasurer of the Old Bath Theatre. All over the island it was the +custom, and remains so I believe to this day, for the players to receive +their weekly stipend on the Saturday. It was not much that Barbara had +to claim. + +This little maid had just entered her eleventh year; but her important +station at the theatre, as it seemed to her, with the benefits which she +felt to accrue from her pious application of her small earnings, had +given an air of womanhood her steps and to her behaviour. You would have +taken her to have been at least five years older. Till latterly she had +merely been employed in choruses, or where children were wanted to fill +up the scene. But the manager, observing a diligence and adroitness in +her above her age, had for some few months past intrusted to her the +performance of whole parts. You may guess the self-consequence of the +promoted Barbara. + + * * * * * + +The parents of Barbara had been in reputable circumstances. The father +had practised, I believe, as an apothecary in the town. But his +practice, from causes for which he was himself to blame, or perhaps from +that pure infelicity which accompanies some people in their walk through +life, and which it is impossible to lay at the door of imprudence, +was now reduced to nothing. They were, in fact, in the very teeth of +starvation, when the manager, who knew and respected them in better +days, took the little Barbara into his company. + +At the period I commenced with, her slender earnings were the sole +support of the family, including two younger sisters. I must throw +a veil over some mortifying circumstances. Enough to say, that her +Saturday's pittance was the only chance of a Sunday's meal of meat. + +This was the little starved, meritorious maid, stood before old +Ravenscroft, the treasurer, for her Saturday's payment. Ravenscroft was +a man, I have heard many old theatrical people besides herself say, of +all men least calculated for a treasurer. He had no head for accounts, +paid away at random, kept scarce any books, and summing up at the week's +end, if he found himself a pound or so deficient, blest himself that it +was no more. + +Now Barbara's weekly stipend was a bare half-guinea. By mistake he +popped into her hand a whole one. + +Barbara tripped away. + +She was entirely unconscious at first of the mistake: God knows, +Ravenscroft would never have discovered it. + +But when she had got down to the first of those uncouth landing-places +she became sensible of an unusual weight of metal pressing her little +hand. + +Now, mark the dilemma. + +She was by nature a good child. From her parents and those about her she +had imbibed no contrary influence. But then they had taught her nothing. +Poor men's smoky cabins are not always porticoes of moral philosophy. +This little maid had no instinct to evil, but then she might be said +to have no fixed principle. She had heard honesty commended, but never +dreamed of its application to herself. She thought of it as something +which concerned grown-up people, men and women. She had never known +temptation, or thought of preparing resistance against it. + +Her first impulse was to go back to the old treasurer, and explain to +him his blunder. He was already so confused with age, besides a natural +want of punctuality, that she would have had some difficulty in making +him understand it. She saw _that_ in an instant. And then it was such a +bit of money: and then the image of a larger allowance of butcher's meat +on their table next day came across her, till her little eyes glistened, +and her mouth moistened. But then Mr. Ravenscroft had always been +so good-natured, had stood her friend behind the scenes, and even +recommended her promotion to some of her little parts. But again the old +man was reputed to be worth a world of money. He was supposed to have +fifty pounds a year clear of the theatre. And then came staring upon her +the figures of her little stockingless and shoeless sisters. And when +she looked at her own neat white cotton stockings, which her situation +at the theatre had made it indispensable for her mother to provide for +her, with hard straining and pinching from the family stock, and thought +how glad she should be to cover their poor feet with the same, and how +then they could accompany her to rehearsals, which they had hitherto +been precluded from doing, by reason of their unfashionable attire,--in +these thoughts she reached the second landing-place--the second, I mean, +from the top--for there was still another left to traverse. + +Now, virtue, support Barbara! + +And that never-failing friend did step in; for at that moment a strength +not her own, I have heard her say, was revealed to her--a reason above +reasoning--and without her own agency, as it seemed (for she never felt +her feet to move), she found herself transported back to the individual +desk she had just quitted, and her hand in the old hand of Ravenscroft, +who in silence took back the refunded treasure, and who had been sitting +(good man) insensible to the lapse of minutes, which to her were anxious +ages; and from that moment a deep peace fell upon her heart, and she +knew the quality of honesty. + +A year or two's unrepining application to her profession brightened up +the feet and the prospects of her little sisters, set the whole +family upon their legs again, and released her from the difficulty of +discussing moral dogmas upon a landing-place. + + _Essays of Elia_, by CHARLES LAMB. + + + + + * * * * * + + + + + A BALLAD. + + + "Turn, gentle Hermit of the dale, + And guide my lonely way + To where yon taper cheers the vale + With hospitable ray. + + "For here forlorn and lost I tread, + With fainting steps and slow, + Where wilds, immeasurably spread, + Seem lengthening as I go." + + "Forbear, my son," the Hermit cries, + "To tempt the dangerous gloom; + For yonder faithless phantom flies + To lure thee to thy doom. + + "Here to the houseless child of want + My door is open still; + And, though my portion is but scant, + I give it with good will. + + "Then turn to-night, and freely share + Whate'er my cell bestows; + My rushy couch and frugal fare, + My blessing and repose. + + "No flocks that range the valley free + To slaughter I condemn; + Taught by that Power that pities me, + I learn to pity them: + + "But from the mountain's grassy side + A guiltless feast I bring; + A scrip with herbs and fruits supplied, + And water from the spring. + + "Then, pilgrim turn; thy cares forego; + All earth-born cares are wrong: + Man wants but little here below, + Nor wants that little long." + + Soft as the dew from heaven descends + His gentle accents fell: + The modest stranger lowly bends, + And follows to the cell. + + Far in a wilderness obscure + The lonely mansion lay, + A refuge to the neighbouring poor, + And strangers led astray. + + No stores beneath its humble thatch + Required a master's care; + The wicket, opening with a latch, + Received the harmless pair. + + And now, when busy crowds retire + To take their evening rest, + The Hermit trimm'd his little fire, + And cheer'd his pensive guest; + + And spread his vegetable store, + And gaily pressed, and smiled; + And, skill'd in legendary lore, + The lingering hours beguiled. + + Around, in sympathetic mirth, + Its tricks the kitten tries, + The cricket chirrups on the hearth, + The crackling faggot flies. + + But nothing could a charm impart + To soothe the stranger's woe; + For grief was heavy at his heart, + And tears began to flow. + + His rising cares the Hermit spied, + With answering care oppress'd; + And, "Whence, unhappy youth," he cried, + "The sorrows of thy breast?" + + "From better habitations spurn'd, + Reluctant dost thou rove? + Or grieve for friendship unreturn'd, + Or unregarded love?" + + "Alas! the joys that fortune brings + Are trifling, and decay; + And those who prize the paltry things, + More trifling still are they." + + "And what is friendship but a name, + A charm that lulls to sleep; + A shade that follows wealth or fame, + But leaves the wretch to weep?" + + "And love is still an emptier sound, + The modern fair one's jest; + On earth unseen, or only found + To warm the turtle's nest." + + "For shame, fond youth, thy sorrows hush, + And spurn the sex," he said; + But while he spoke, a rising blush + His love-lorn guest betray'd. + + Surprised he sees new beauties rise, + Swift mantling to the view; + Like colours o'er the morning skies, + As bright, as transient too. + + The bashful look, the rising breast, + Alternate spread alarms: + The lovely stranger stands confess'd + A maid in all her charms. + + And, "Ah! forgive a stranger rude-- + A wretch forlorn," she cried; + "Whose feet unhallow'd thus intrude + Where Heaven and you reside." + + "But let a maid thy pity share, + Whom love has taught to stray; + Who seeks for rest, but finds despair + Companion of her way." + + "My father lived beside the Tyne, + A wealthy lord was he; + And all his wealth was mark'd as mine, + He had but only me." + + "To win me from his tender arms + Unnumber'd suitors came, + Who praised me for imputed charms, + And felt, or feign'd, a flame." + + "Each hour a mercenary crowd + With richest proffers strove: + Amongst the rest, young Edwin bow'd, + But never talk'd of love." + + "In humble, simple habit clad, + No wealth nor power had he: + Wisdom and worth were all he had, + But these were all to me. + + "And when, beside me in the dale, + He caroll'd lays of love, + His breath lent fragrance to the gale, + And music to the grove. + + "The blossom opening to the day, + The dews of heaven refined, + Could nought of purity display + To emulate his mind. + + "The dew, the blossom on the tree, + With charms inconstant shine: + Their charms were his, but, woe to me, + Their constancy was mine. + + "For still I tried each fickle art, + Importunate and vain; + And, while his passion touch'd my heart, + I triumph'd in his pain: + + "Till, quite dejected with my scorn, + He left me to my pride; + And sought a solitude forlorn, + In secret, where he died. + + "But mine the sorrow, mine the fault, + And well my life shall pay: + I'll seek the solitude he sought, + And stretch me where he lay. + + "And there, forlorn, despairing, hid, + I'll lay me down and die; + 'Twas so for me that Edwin did, + And so for him will I." + + "Forbid it, Heaven!" the Hermit cried, + And clasp'd her to his breast: + The wondering fair one turn'd to chide-- + 'Twas Edwin's self that press'd! + + "Turn, Angelina, ever dear, + My charmer, turn to see + Thy own, thy long-lost Edwin here, + Restored to love and thee. + + "Thus let me hold thee to my heart, + And every care resign: + And shall we never, never part, + My life--my all that's mine? + + "No, never from this hour to part, + We'll live and love so true, + The sigh that rends thy constant heart + Shall break thy Edwin's too." + GOLDSMITH. + + + +[Notes: _Oliver Goldsmith_, poet and novelist. The friend and +contemporary of Johnson, Burke, and Reynolds. Born 1728, died 1774. + +This poem is introduced into 'The Vicar of Wakefield,' and Goldsmith +there says of it, "It is at least free from the false taste of loading +the lines with epithets;" or as he puts it more fully "a string of +epithets that improve the sound without carrying on the sense." + + +"_Immeasurably spread_" = spread to an immeasurable length. + + +_No flocks that range the valleys free_. "Free" may be joined either +with flocks or with valley. + +Note the position of the negative, "No flocks that range," &c. = I do +not condemn the flocks that range. + + +_Guiltless feast_. Because it does not involve the death of a +fellow-creature. + + + _Scrip_. A purse or wallet; a word of Teutonic origin. +Distinguish from scrip, a writing or certificate, from the Latin word +_scribo_, I write. + + +_Far in a wilderness obscure_. Obscure goes with mansion, not with +wilderness. + + +_And gaily pressed_ (him to eat). + + +_With answering care_, i.e., with sympathetic care. + + + _A charm that lulls to sleep_. Charm is here in its proper +sense: that of a thing pleasing to the fancy is derivative. + + +_A shade that follows wealth or fame_. A shade = a ghost or phantom. + + +_Swift mantling_, &c. Spreading quickly over, like a cloak or mantle. + + +_Where heaven and you reside_ = where you, whose only thoughts are of +Heaven, reside. + + +_Whom love has taught to stray_. This use of the word "taught" for +"made" or "forced," is taken from a Latin idiom, as in Virgil, "He +_teaches_ the woods to ring with the name of Amaryllis." It is stronger +than "made" or "forced," and implies, as here, that she had forgotten +all but the wandering life that is now hers. + + +_He had but only me_. But or only is redundant. + + +_To emulate his mind_ = to be equal to his mind in purity. + + +_Their constancy was mine_. This verse has often been accused of +violating sense; but, however artificial the expression may be, neither +the sense is obscure, nor the way of expressing it inaccurate. It +is evidently only another way of saying "in the little they had of +constancy they resembled me as they resembled him in their charms."] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +DR. ARNOLD. + + +We listened, as all boys in their better moods will listen (ay, and men +too, for the matter of that), to a man whom we felt to be, with all his +heart and soul and strength, striving against whatever was mean and +unmanly and unrighteous in our little world. It was not the cold, clear +voice of one giving advice and warning from serene heights to those who +were struggling and sinning below, but the warm, living voice of one who +was fighting for us, and by our sides, and calling on us to help him and +ourselves and one another. And so, wearily and little by little, but +surely and steadily on the whole, was brought home to the young boy, +for the first time, the meaning of his life: that it was no fool's +or sluggard's paradise into which he had wandered by chance, but a +battle-field ordained from of old, where there are no spectators, but +the youngest must take his side, and the stakes are life and death. And +he who roused this consciousness in them showed them, at the same time, +by every word he spoke in the pulpit, and by his whole daily life, +how that battle was to be fought; and stood there before them, their +fellow-soldier and the captain of their band. The true sort of captain, +too, for a boy's army, one who had no misgivings, and gave no uncertain +word of command, and, let who would yield or make truce, would fight +the fight out (so every boy felt) to the last gasp and the last drop of +blood. Other sides of his character might take hold of and influence +boys here and there, but it was this thoroughness and undaunted courage +which more than anything else won his way to the hearts of the great +mass of those on whom he left his mark, and made them believe first in +him, and then in his Master. + +It was this quality, above all others, which moved such boys as Tom +Brown, who had nothing whatever remarkable about him except excess of +boyishness; by which I mean animal life in its fullest measure; good +nature and honest impulses, hatred of injustice and meanness, and +thoughtlessness enough to sink a three-decker. And so, during the next +two years, in which it was more than doubtful whether he would get good +or evil from the school, and before any steady purpose or principle grew +up in him, whatever his week's sins and shortcomings might have been, he +hardly ever left the chapel on Sunday evenings without a serious resolve +to stand by and follow the doctor, and a feeling that it was only +cowardice (the incarnation of all other sins in such a boy's mind) which +hindered him from doing so with all his heart. + + _Tom Brown's School Days_. + + + +[Note: _Dr. Arnold_, the head-master of Rugby School, died 1842. +His life, which gives an account of the work done by him to promote +education, has been written by Dean Stanley.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + + MARTYRS + + + Patriots have toil'd, and in their country's cause + Bled nobly; and their deeds, as they deserve, + Receive proud recompense. We give in charge + Their names to the sweet lyre. The Historic Muse, + Proud of the treasure, marches with it down + To latest times; and Sculpture, in her turn, + Gives bond in stone and ever-during brass + To guard them, and to immortalize her trust. + But fairer wreaths are due--though never paid-- + To those who, posted at the shrine of Truth, + Have fallen in her defence. A patriot's blood, + Well spent in such a strife, may earn indeed, + And for a time ensure, to his loved land + The sweets of liberty and equal laws; + But martyrs struggle for a brighter prize, + And win it with more pain. Their blood is shed + In confirmation of the noblest claim,-- + Our claim to feed upon immortal truth, + To walk with God, to be divinely free, + To soar and to anticipate the skies.-- + Yet few remember them! They lived unknown, + Till persecution dragged them into fame, + And chased them up to Heaven. Their ashes flew-- + No marble tells us whither. With their names + No bard embalms and sanctifies his song; + And History, so warm on meaner themes, + Is cold on this. She execrates indeed + The tyranny that doom'd them to the fire, + But gives the glorious sufferers little praise. + + COWPER. + + +[Notes:_William Cowper_ (born 1731, died 1800), the author of 'The +Task,' 'Progress of Error,' 'Truth,' and many other poems; all marked by +the same pure thought and chaste language. + +This poem is written in what is called "blank verse," i.e., verse in +which the lines do not rhyme, the rhythm depending on the measure of the +verse. + + +_To the sweet lyre_ = To the poet, whose lyre (or poetry) is to keep +their names alive. + + +_The Historic Muse_. The ancients held that there were nine Muses or +Goddesses who presided over the arts and sciences; and of these, one was +the Muse of History. + + +_Gives bond in stone, &c._ = Pledges herself. The pith of the phrase is +in its almost homely simplicity, the more striking in its contrast with +the classical allusions by which it is surrounded. + + +_Her trust_, i.e., what is trusted to her. + + +_To anticipate the skies_ = to ennoble our life and so approach that +higher life we hope for after death. + + +_Till persecution dragged them into fame_ = forced them by its cruelty +to become famous against their will. + + +_No marble tells us whither_. Because they have no tombstone and no +epitaph.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + + A PSALM OF LIFE. + + + Tell me not in mournful numbers, + Life is but an empty dream! + For the soul is dead that slumbers, + And things are not what they seem. + + Life is real! Life is earnest! + And the grave is not its goal; + "Dust thou art, to dust returnest;" + Was not spoken of the soul. + + Not enjoyment, and not sorrow, + Is our destined end or way; + But to act that each to-morrow + Finds us farther than to-day. + + Art is long, and Time is fleeting, + And our hearts, though stout and brave, + Still like muffled drums are beating + Funeral marches to the grave. + + In the world's broad field of battle, + In the Bivouac of life, + Be not like dumb, driven cattle! + Be a hero in the strife! + + Trust no Future, howe'er pleasant! + Let the dead Past bury its dead! + Act--act in the living Present! + Heart within, and God o'erhead! + + Lives of great men all remind us + We can make our lives sublime, + And, departing, leave behind us + Footprints on the sands of time;-- + + Footprints, that perhaps another, + Sailing o'er life's solemn main, + A forlorn and shipwrecked brother, + Seeing, shall take heart again. + + Let us, then, be up and doing, + With a heart for any fate; + Still achieving, still pursuing, + Learn to labour and to wait. + + H.W. LONGFELLOW. + + + +[Notes:_Art is long, and time is fleeting_. A translation from the +Latin, _Ars longa, vita brevis est._ + + +The metaphor in the last two stanzas in this page is strangely mixed. +Footprints could hardly be seen by those sailing over the main.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +BOYHOOD'S WORK. + +In no place in the world has individual character more weight than at +a public school. Remember this, I beseech you, all you boys who are +getting into the upper forms. Now is the time in all your lives, +probably, when you may have more wide influence for good or evil in the +society you live in than you ever can have again. Quit yourselves like +men, then; speak up, and strike out, if necessary, for whatsoever +is true, and manly, and lovely, and of good report; never try to be +popular, but only to do your duty, and help others to do theirs, and you +may leave the tone of feeling in the school higher than you found it, +and so be doing good, which no living soul can measure, to generations +of your countrymen yet unborn. For boys follow one another in herds like +sheep, for good or evil; they hate thinking, and have rarely any settled +principles. Every school, indeed, has its own traditionary standard of +right and wrong, which cannot be transgressed with impunity, marking +certain things as low and blackguard, and certain others as lawful and +right. This standard is ever varying, though it changes only slowly, and +little by little; and, subject only to such standard, it is the leading +boys for the time being who give the tone to all the rest, and make +the school either a noble institution for the training of Christian +Englishmen, or a place where a young boy will get more evil than he +would if he were turned out to make his way in London streets, or +anything between these two extremes. + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +WORK IN THE WORLD. + +"I want to be at work in the world," said Tom, "and not dawdling away +three years at Oxford." + +"What do you mean by 'at work in the world?'" said the master, pausing, +with his lips close to his saucerful of tea, and peering at Tom over it. + +"Well, I mean real work; one's profession, whatever one will have really +to do, and make one's living by. I want to be doing some real good, +feeling that I am not only at play in the world," answered Tom, rather +puzzled to find out himself what he really did mean. + +"You are mixing up two very different things in your head, I think, +Brown," said the master, putting down the empty saucer, "and you ought +to get clear about them. You talk of 'working to get your living,' and +'doing some real good in the world,' in the same breath. Now, you may be +getting a very good living in a profession, and yet doing no good at all +in the world, but quite the contrary, at the same time. Keep the latter +before you as your one object, and you will be right, whether you make +a living or not; but if you dwell on the other, you'll very likely drop +into mere money-making, and let the world take care of itself, for good +or evil. Don't be in a hurry about finding your work in the world for +yourself; you are not old enough to judge for yourself yet, but just +look about you in the place you find yourself in, and try to make things +a little better and honester there. You'll find plenty to keep your hand +in at Oxford, or wherever else you go. And don't be led away to think +this part of the world important, and that unimportant. Every corner of +the world is important. No man knows whether this part or that is most +so, but every man may do some honest work in his own corner." + + _Tom Brown's School Days_. + + + + + * * * * * + + + + + THE ANT AND THE CATERPILLAR + + + As an ant, of his talents superiorly vain, + Was trotting, with consequence, over the plain, + A worm, in his progress remarkably slow, + Cried--"Bless your good worship wherever you go; + I hope your great mightiness won't take it ill, + I pay my respects with a hearty good-will." + With a look of contempt, and impertinent pride, + "Begone, you vile reptile," his antship replied; + "Go--go, and lament your contemptible state, + But first--look at me--see my limbs how complete; + I guide all my motions with freedom and ease, + Run backward and forward, and turn when I please; + Of nature (grown weary) you shocking essay! + I spurn you thus from me--crawl out of my way." + The reptile, insulted and vex'd to the soul, + Crept onwards, and hid himself close in his hole; + But nature, determined to end his distress, + Soon sent him abroad in a butterfly's dress. + Erelong the proud ant, as repassing the road, + (Fatigued from the harvest, and tugging his load), + The beau on a violet-bank he beheld, + Whose vesture, in glory, a monarch's excelled; + His plumage expanded--'twas rare to behold + So lovely a mixture of purple and gold. + The ant, quite amazed at a figure so gay, + Bow'd low with respect, and was trudging away. + "Stop, friend," says the butterfly; "don't be surprised, + I once was the reptile you spurn'd and despised; + But now I can mount, in the sunbeams I play, + While you must for ever drudge on in your way." + + CUNNINGHAM. + + +[Note: _Of nature (grown weary) you shocking essay_ = you wretched +attempt (= essay) by nature, when she had grown weary.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + + REPORT + OF AN ADJUDGED CASE, NOT TO BE FOUND IN + ANY OF THE BOOKS. + + + Between Nose and Eyes a strange contest arose. + The spectacles set them unhappily wrong; + The point in dispute was, as all the world knows, + To which the said spectacles ought to belong. + + So Tongue was the lawyer, and argued the cause, + With a great deal of skill, and a wig full of learning, + While chief baron Ear sat to balance the laws, + So fam'd for his talent in nicely discerning. + + In behalf of the Nose it will quickly appear, + And your lordship, he said, will undoubtedly find, + That the nose has had spectacles always in wear, + Which amounts to possession time out of mind. + + Then holding the spectacles up to the court-- + Your lordship observes they are made with a straddle, + As wide as the ridge of the nose is; in short, + Designed to sit close to it, just like a saddle. + + Again, would your lordship a moment suppose + ('Tis a case that has happen'd, and may be again) + That the visage or countenance had not a nose, + Pray who would, or who could, wear spectacles then? + + On the whole it appears, and my argument shows, + With a reasoning the court will never condemn, + That the spectacles plainly were made for the Nose, + And the Nose was as plainly intended for them. + + Then shifting his side as a lawyer knows how, + He pleaded again in behalf of the Eyes; + But what were his arguments few people know, + For the court did not think they were equally wise. + + So his lordship decreed, with a grave, solemn tone, + Decisive and clear, without one _if_ or _but_-- + That, whenever the Nose put his Spectacles on, + By daylight or candlelight--Eyes should be shut! + + COWPER. + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +CASTLES IN THE AIR. + + +Alnaschar was a very idle fellow, that never would set his hand to any +business during his father's life. When his father died he left him to +the value of a hundred drachmas in Persian money. Alnaschar, in order +to make the best of it, laid it out in bottles, glasses, and the finest +earthenware. These he piled up in a large open basket; and, having made +choice of a very little shop, placed the basket at his feet, and leaned +his back upon the wall in expectation of customers. As he sat in this +posture, with his eyes upon the basket, he fell into a most amusing +train of thought, and was overheard by one of his neighbours, as he +talked to himself in the following manner:--"This basket," says he, +"cost me at the wholesale merchant's a hundred drachmas, which is all I +had in the world. I shall quickly make two hundred of it by selling it +in retail. These two hundred drachmas will in a very little while rise +to four hundred; which, of course, will amount in time to four thousand. +Four thousand drachmas cannot fail of making eight thousand. As soon as +by these means I am master of ten thousand, I will lay aside my trade of +a glass-man and turn jeweller. I shall then deal in diamonds, pearls, +and all sorts of rich stones. When I have got together as much wealth +as I can well desire, I will make a purchase of the finest house I can +find, with lands, slaves, and horses. I shall then begin to enjoy myself +and make a noise in the world. I will not, however, stop there; but +still continue my traffic until I have got together a hundred thousand +drachmas. When I have thus made myself master of a hundred thousand +drachmas, I shall naturally set myself on the footing of a prince, +and will demand the grand vizier's daughter in marriage, after having +represented to that minister the information which I have received of +the beauty, wit, discretion, and other high qualities which his daughter +possesses. I will let him know at the same time that it is my intention +to make him a present of a thousand pieces of gold on our marriage day. +As soon as I have married the grand vizier's daughter, I must make my +father-in-law a visit, with a great train and equipage. And when I am +placed at his right hand, which he will do of course, if it be only to +honour his daughter, I will give him the thousand pieces of gold which +I promised him; and afterwards, to his great surprise, will present him +with another purse of the same value, with some short speech: as, 'Sir, +you see I am a man of my word: I always give more than I promise.'" + +"When I have brought the princess to my house, I shall take particular +care to breed her in due respect for me. To this end I shall confine her +to her own apartments, make her a short visit, and talk but little to +her. Her women will represent to me that she is inconsolable by reason +of my unkindness; but I shall still remain inexorable. Her mother will +then come and bring her daughter to me, as I am seated on a sofa. The +daughter, with tears in her eyes, will fling herself at my feet, and beg +me to receive her into my favour. Then will I, to imprint her with a +thorough veneration for my person, draw up my legs, and spurn her from +me with my foot in such a manner that she shall fall down several paces +from the sofa." + +Alnaschar was entirely swallowed up in his vision, and could not forbear +acting with his foot what he had in his thoughts: so that, unluckily +striking his basket of brittle ware, which was the foundation of all his +grandeur, he kicked his glasses to a great distance from him into the +street, and broke them into ten thousand pieces. + + ADDISON. + + + +[Note: _Joseph Addison_, born 1672, died 1719. Chiefly famous as a +critic and essayist. His calm sense and judgment, and the attraction of +his style, have rendered his writings favourites from his own time to +ours.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + + THE INCHCAPE BELL. + + No stir on the air, no swell on the sea, + The ship was still as she might be: + The sails from heaven received no motion; + The keel was steady in the ocean. + + With neither sign nor sound of shock, + The waves flow'd o'er the Inchcape Rock; + So little they rose, so little they fell, + They did not move the Inchcape Bell. + + The pious abbot of Aberbrothock + Had placed that bell on the Inchcape Rock; + On the waves of the storm it floated and swung, + And louder and louder its warning rung. + + When the rock was hid by the tempest swell, + The mariners heard the warning bell, + And then they knew the perilous rock, + And blessed the abbot of Aberbrothock. + + The float of the Inchcape Bell was seen, + A darker spot on the ocean green. + Sir Ralph the Rover walked the deck, + And he fix'd his eye on the darker speck. + + His eye was on the bell and float,-- + Quoth he, "My men, put down the boat, + And row me to the Inchcape Rock,-- + I'll plague the priest of Aberbrothock!". + + The boat was lower'd, the boatmen row, + And to the Inchcape Rock they go. + Sir Ralph leant over from the boat, + And cut the bell from off the float. + + Down sunk the bell with a gurgling sound; + The bubbles rose, and burst around. + Quoth he, "Who next comes to the rock + Won't bless the priest of Aberbrothock!" + + Sir Ralph the Rover sail'd away; + He scour'd the sea for many a day; + And now, grown rich with plunder'd store, + He steers his way for Scotland's shore. + + So thick a haze o'erspread the sky, + They could not see the sun on high; + The wind had blown a gale all day; + At evening it hath died away. + + "Canst hear," said one, "the breakers roar? + For yonder, methinks, should be the shore. + Now, where we are, I cannot tell,-- + I wish we heard the Inchcape Bell." + + They heard no sound--the swell is strong, + Though the wind hath fallen they drift along: + Till the vessel strikes with a shivering shock, + "Oh heavens! it is the Inchcape Rock!" + + Sir Ralph the Rover tore his hair, + And cursed himself in his despair; + And waves rush in on every side, + The ship sinks fast beneath the tide. + + + SOUTHEY. + + +[Notes: _Robert Southey_, born 1774, died 1848. Poet Laureate and author +of numerous works in prose and verse.] + + +_Quoth_. Saxon _Cwaethan_, to say. A Perfect now used only in the first +and third persons singular of the present indicative; the nominative +following the verb. + + +_Till the vessel strikes with a shivering shock_. Notice the effective +use of alliteration (_i.e_., the recurrence of words beginning with the +same letter), which is the basis of old-English rhythm.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +THE DEATH OF NELSON. + + +It had been part of Nelson's prayer that the British fleet might be +distinguished by humanity in the victory he expected. Setting an example +himself, he twice gave orders to cease firing upon the 'Redoubtable,' +supposing that she had struck because her great guns were silent; for, +as she carried no flag, there was no means of instantly ascertaining the +fact. From this ship, which he had thus twice spared, he received his +death. A ball, fired from her mizen-top, which, in the then situation of +the two vessels, was not more than fifteen yards from that part of the +deck where he was standing, struck the epaulette on his left shoulder, +about a quarter after one, just in the heat of action. He fell upon his +face, on the spot which was covered with his poor secretary's blood. +Hardy (his captain), who was a few steps from him, turning round, saw +three men raising him up. + +"They have done for me at last, Hardy," said he. + +"I hope not," cried Hardy. "Yes," he replied, "my backbone is shot +through." + +Yet even now, not for a moment losing his presence of mind, he observed, +as they were carrying him down the ladder, that the tiller ropes, which +had been shot away, were not yet replaced, and ordered that new ones +should be rove immediately; then, that he might not be seen by the crew, +he took out his handkerchief, and covered his face and his stars. Had he +but concealed these badges of honour from the enemy, England, perhaps, +would not have had cause to receive with sorrow the news of the battle +of Trafalgar. The cockpit was crowded with wounded and dying men, over +whose bodies he was with some difficulty conveyed, and laid upon +a pallet in the midshipmen's berth. It was soon perceived, upon +examination, that the wound was mortal. This, however, was concealed +from all except Captain Hardy, the chaplain, and the medical attendants. +He himself being certain, from the sensation in his back, and the gush +of blood he felt momently within his breast, that no human care could +avail him, insisted that the surgeon should leave him, and attend to +those to whom he might be useful; "For," said he, "you can do nothing +for me." All that could be done was to fan him with paper, and +frequently to give him lemonade to alleviate his intense thirst. He was +in great pain, and expressed much anxiety for the event of the action, +which now began to declare itself. As often as a ship struck, the crew +of the 'Victory' hurrahed, and at every hurrah a visible expression of +joy gleamed in the eyes and marked the countenance of the dying hero. + +But he became impatient to see Captain Hardy; and as that officer, +though often sent for, could not leave the deck, Nelson feared some +fatal cause prevented him, and repeatedly cried, "Will no one bring +Hardy to me? He must be killed! He is surely dead!" + +An hour and ten minutes elapsed from the time when Nelson received his +wound before Hardy could come to him. They shook hands in silence, Hardy +in vain struggling to suppress the feelings of that most painful yet +sublimest moment. "Well, Hardy," said Nelson, "how goes the day with +us?" "Very well," replied Hardy; "ten ships have struck, but five of the +van have tacked, and show an intention to bear down upon the 'Victory.' +I have called two or three of our fresh ships round, and have no doubt +of giving them a drubbing." "I hope," said Nelson, "none of our ships +have struck?" Hardy answered, "There was no fear of that." Then, and not +till then, Nelson spoke of himself. "I am a dead man, Hardy," said he; +"I am going fast; it will be all over with me soon; come nearer to me." +Hardy observed that he hoped Mr. Beattie (the surgeon) could yet hold +out some prospect of life. "Oh no," he replied, "it is impossible; my +back is shot through--Beattie will tell you so." Captain Hardy then once +more shook hands with him, and, with a heart almost bursting, hastened +upon deck. + +By this time all feeling below the breast was gone; and Nelson, having +made the surgeon ascertain this, said to him, "You know I am gone; I +know it--I feel something rising in my breast (putting his hand on his +left side) which tells me so." And upon Beattie's inquiring whether +his pain was very great, he replied, "So great, that he wished he were +dead." "Yet," said he, in a lower voice, "one would like to live a +little longer too!" + +Captain Hardy, some fifty minutes after he had left the cockpit, +returned, and again taking the hand of his dying friend and commander, +congratulated him on having gained a complete victory. How many of the +enemy were taken, he did not know, as it was impossible to perceive +them distinctly, but fourteen or fifteen at least. "That's well," cried +Nelson, "but I bargained for twenty." And then, in a stronger voice, +he said, "Anchor,! Hardy, anchor." Hardy upon this hinted that Admiral +Collingwood would take upon himself the direction of affairs. "Not while +I live, Hardy," said the dying Nelson, ineffectually endeavouring to +raise himself from the bed; "do you anchor." His previous order for +preparing to anchor had shown how clearly he foresaw the necessity of +this. Presently, calling Hardy back, he said to him in a low voice, +"Don't throw me overboard," and he desired that he might be buried by +his parents, unless it should please the king to order otherwise. "Kiss +me, Hardy," said he. Hardy knelt down and kissed his cheek, and Nelson +said, "Now, I am satisfied. Thank God, I have done my duty." Hardy stood +over him in silence for a moment or two, then knelt again and kissed his +forehead. "Who is that?" said Nelson; and being informed, he replied, +"God bless you, Hardy." And Hardy then left him for ever. + + SOUTHEY. + + + +[Note:_The death of Nelson_ took place at the Battle of Trafalgar, +1805.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + + BATTLE OF THE BALTIC. + + + I. + + Of Nelson and the North, + Sing the glorious day's renown, + When to battle fierce came forth + All the might of Denmark's crown, + And her arms along the deep proudly shone; + By each gun the lighted brand, + In a bold, determined hand, + And the Prince of all the land + Led them on. + + II. + + Like leviathans afloat, + Lay their bulwarks on the brine; + While the sign of battle flew + On the lofty British line: + It was ten of April morn by the chime: + As they drifted on their path, + There was silence deep as death; + And the boldest held his breath + For a time. + + + III. + + But the might of England flushed + To anticipate the scene; + And her van the fleeter rushed + O'er the deadly space between. + "Hearts of oak!" our captains cried; when each gun + From its adamantine lips + Spread a death-shade round the ships. + Like the hurricane eclipse + Of the sun. + + IV. + + Again! again! again! + And the havoc did not slack, + Till a feebler cheer the Dane + To our cheering sent us back;-- + Their shots along the deep slowly boom;-- + Then cease--and all is wail, + As they strike the shattered sail; + Or, in conflagration pale, + Light the gloom. + + V. + + Out spoke the victor then, + As he hailed them o'er the wave, + "Ye are brothers! ye are men! + And we conquer but to save:-- + So peace instead of death let us bring; + But yield, proud foe, thy fleet, + With the crews, at England's feet, + And make submission meet + To our king." + + VI. + + Then Denmark blest our chief + That he gave her wounds repose; + And the sounds of joy and grief + From her people wildly rose, + As Death withdrew his shades from the day + While the sun looked smiling bright + O'er a wide and woeful sight, + Where the fires of funeral light + Died away. + + VII. + + Now joy, Old England, raise! + For the tidings of thy might, + By the festal cities' blaze, + Whilst the wine-cup shines in light; + And yet amidst that joy and uproar, + Let us think of them that sleep, + Full many a fathom deep, + By thy wild and stormy steep, + Elsinore! + + VIII. + + Brave hearts! to Britain's pride + Once so faithful and so true, + On the deck of fame that died;-- + With the gallant good Riou;-- + Soft sigh the winds of heaven o'er their grave! + While the billow mournful rolls, + And the mermaid's song condoles; + Singing glory to the souls + Of the brave! + + CAMPBELL + + +[Notes: This is the first specimen of the "ode" in this book. Notice the +variety in length between the lines, and draw up a scheme of the rhymes +in each stanza. The battle was fought, and Copenhagen bombarded, in +April, 1801. + + +_It was ten of April morn by the chime_. It was ten o'clock on the +morning in April. + + +_Like the hurricane eclipse_. The eclipse of the sun in storm.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + + LOCHINVAR. + + + Oh, young Lochinvar is come out of the west, + Through all the wide border his steed is the best; + And, save his good broad-sword, he weapon had none; + He rode all unarmed, and he rode all alone! + So faithful in love, and so dauntless in war, + There never was knight like the young Lochinvar! + + He stay'd not for brake, and he stopped not for stone, + He swam the Eske river where ford there was none-- + But, ere he alighted at Netherby gate, + The bride had consented, the gallant came late; + For a laggard in love, and a dastard in war, + Was to wed the fair Ellen of brave Lochinvar! + + So boldly he entered the Netherby Hall, + Among bridesmen, and kinsmen, and brothers, and all!-- + Then spoke the bride's father, his hand on his sword-- + For the poor craven bridegroom said never a word-- + "Oh come ye in peace here, or come ye in war?-- + Or to dance at our bridal? young Lord Lochinvar!" + + "I long woo'd your daughter, my suit you denied: + Love swells like the Solway, but ebbs like its tide! + And now am I come, with this lost love of mine, + To lead but one measure, drink one cup of wine! + There be maidens in Scotland, more lovely by far, + That would gladly be bride to the young Lochinvar!" + + The bride kissed the goblet, the knight took it up, + He quaffed off the wine, and he threw down the cup! + She looked down to blush, and she looked up to sigh-- + With a smile on her lip, and a tear in her eye. + He took her soft hand, ere her mother could bar-- + "Now tread we a measure!" said young Lochinvar, + + So stately his form, and so lovely her face, + That never a hall such a galliard did grace! + While her mother did fret, and her father did fume, + And the bridegroom stood dangling his bonnet and plume, + And the bride-maidens whispered, "'Twere better by far + To have matched our fair cousin with young Lochinvar!" + + One touch to her hand, and one word in her ear, + When they reached the hall door, and the charger stood + near: + So light to the croup the fair lady he swung, + So light to the saddle before her he sprung! + "She is won! we are gone, over bank, bush, and scaur; + They'll have fleet steeds that follow!" cried young + Lochinvar. + + There was mounting 'mong Graemes of the Netherby clan; + Forsters, Fenwicks, and Musgraves, they rode and they ran; + There was racing and chasing on Cannobie Lea, + But the lost bride of Netherby ne'er did they see! + + So daring in love, and so dauntless in war, + Have ye e'er heard of gallant like young Lochinvar? + + SCOTT. + +[Notes: _Lochinvar_. The song sung by Dame Heron in 'Marmion,' one of +Scott's longest and most famous poems. The fame of Scott (1771-1832) +rests partly on these poems, but much more on the novels, in which he is +excelled by no one. + + +_He stay'd not for brake_. Brake, a word of Scandinavian origin, means a +place overgrown with brambles; from the crackling noise they make as one +passes over them. + + +_Love swells like the Solway_. For a scene in which the rapid advance +of the Solway tide is described, see the beginning of Scott's novel of +'Redgauntlet.' + + +_Galliard_. A gay rollicker. Used also in Chaucer. + + +_Scaur_. A rough, broken ground. The same word as scar.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +LEARNING TO RIDE. + + +Some time before my father had bought a small Shetland pony for us, +Moggy by name, upon which we were to complete our own education in +riding, we had already mastered the rudiments under the care of our +grandfather's coachman. He had been in our family thirty years, and we +were as fond of him as if he had been a relation. He had taught us to +sit up and hold the bridle, while he led a quiet old cob up and down +with a leading rein. But, now that Moggy was come, we were to make quite +a new step in horsemanship. Our parents had a theory that boys must +teach themselves, and that a saddle (except for propriety, when we rode +to a neighbour's house to carry a message, or had to appear otherwise +in public) was a hindrance rather than a help. So, after our morning's +lessons, the coachman used to take us to the paddock in which Moggy +lived, put her bridle on, and leave us to our own devices. I could see +that that moment was from the first one of keen enjoyment to my brother. +He would scramble up on her back, while she went on grazing--without +caring to bring her to the elm stool in the corner of the field, which +was our mounting place--pull her head up, kick his heels into her sides, +and go scampering away round the paddock with the keenest delight. He +was Moggy's master from the first day, though she not unfrequently +managed to get rid of him by sharp turns, or stopping dead short in her +gallop. She knew it quite well; and, just as well, that she was mistress +as soon as I was on her back. For weeks it never came to my turn, +without my wishing myself anywhere else. George would give me a lift +up, and start her. She would trot a few yards, and then begin grazing, +notwithstanding my timid expostulations and gentle pullings at her +bridle. Then he would run up, and pull up her head, and start her again, +and she would bolt off with a flirt of her head, and never be content +till I was safely on the grass. The moment that was effected she took to +grazing again, and I believe enjoyed the whole performance as much as +George, and certainly far more than I did. We always brought her a +carrot, or bit of sugar, in our pockets, and she was much more like a +great good-tempered dog with us than a pony. + + _Memoir of a Brother_. T. HUGHES. + + + + + * * * * * + + + + + THE CHAMELEON. + + + Oft has it been my lot to mark + A proud, conceited, talking spark, + With eyes that hardly served at most + To guard their master 'gainst a post: + Yet round the world the blade has been + To see whatever can be seen. + Returning from his finished tour, + Grown ten times perter than before. + Whatever word you chance to drop, + The travelled fool your mouth will stop: + "Sir, if my judgment you'll allow-- + I've seen--and sure I ought to know." + So begs you'd pay a due submission + And acquiesce in his decision. + Two travellers of such a cast, + As o'er Arabia's wilds they passed, + And on their way in friendly chat, + Now talked of this, and now of that: + Discoursed a while, 'mongst other matter, + Of the chameleon's form and nature. + "A stranger animal," cries one, + "Sure never lived beneath the sun; + A lizard's body, lean and long, + A fish's head, a serpent's tongue, + Its foot with triple claw disjoined; + And what a length of tail behind! + How slow its pace! And then its hue-- + Who ever saw so fine a blue?"-- + "Hold there," the other quick replies, + "'Tis green; I saw it with these eyes + As late with open mouth it lay, + And warmed it in the sunny ray; + Stretched at its ease the beast I viewed, + And saw it eat the air for food." + "I've seen it, sir, as well as you, + And must again affirm it blue: + At leisure I the beast surveyed + Extended in the cooling shade." + "'Tis green, 'tis green, sir, I assure you." + "Green!" cried the other in a fury: + "Why, do you think I've lost my eyes?" + "'Twere no great loss," the friend replies, + "For if they always serve you thus, + You'll find them of but little use." + So high at last the contest rose, + From words they almost came to blows, + When luckily came by a third: + To him the question they referred, + And begged he'd tell them if he knew, + Whether the thing was green or blue? + "Sirs," cries the umpire, "cease your pother, + The creature's neither one nor t'other. + I caught the animal last night, + And view'd it o'er by candle-light: + I marked it well--'twas black as jet. + You stare; but, sirs, I've got it yet: + And can produce it"--"Pray, sir, do: + I'll lay my life the thing is blue." + "And I'll be sworn, that when you've seen + The reptile you'll pronounce him green!" + "Well, then, at once to ease the doubt," + Replies the man, "I'll turn him out: + And when before your eyes I've set him, + If you don't find him black, I'll eat him," + He said, and full before their sight, + Produced the beast, and lo!--'twas white. + Both stared: the man looked wondrous wise: + "My children," the chameleon cries + (Then first the creature found a tongue), + "You all are right, and all are wrong; + When next you tell of what you view, + Think others see as well as you! + Nor wonder if you find that none + Prefers your eyesight to his own." + + MERRICK. + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +MOSES AT THE FAIR + + +All this conversation, however, was only preparatory to another scheme; +and indeed I dreaded as much. This was nothing less than that, as we +were now to hold up our heads a little higher in the world, it would be +proper to sell the colt, which was grown old, at a neighbouring fair, +and buy us a horse that would carry us single or double upon an +occasion, and make a pretty appearance at church, or upon a visit. This +at first I opposed stoutly; but it was stoutly defended. However, as I +weakened, my antagonist gained strength, till at last it was resolved +to part with him. As the fair happened on the following day, I had +intentions of going myself; but my wife persuaded me that I had got a +cold, and nothing could prevail upon her to permit me from home. "No, my +dear," said she, "our son Moses is a discreet boy, and can buy and sell +to a very good advantage: you know all our great bargains are of his +purchasing. He always stands out and higgles, and actually tires them +till he gets a bargain." + +As I had some opinion of my son's prudence, I was willing enough to +entrust him with this commission; and the next morning I perceived his +sisters mighty busy in fitting out Moses for the fair; trimming his +hair, brushing his buckles, and cocking his hat with pins. The business +of the toilet being over, we had at last the satisfaction of seeing +him mounted upon the colt, with a deal box before him to bring +home groceries in. He had on a coat made of that cloth they call +"thunder-and-lightning," which, though grown too short, was much too +good to be thrown away. His waistcoat was of gosling green, and his +sisters had tied his hair with a broad black riband. We all followed him +several paces from the door, bawling after him, "Good luck! good luck!" +till we could see him no longer. *** + +I changed the subject by seeming to wonder what could keep our son so +long at the fair, as it was now almost nightfall. "Never mind our son," +cried my wife; "depend upon it, he knows what he is about. I'll warrant +we'll never see him sell his hen of a rainy day. I have seen him bring +such bargains as would amaze one. I'll tell you a good story about that, +that will make you split your sides with laughing. But, as I live, +yonder comes Moses, without a horse, and the box on his back." + +As she spoke, Moses came slowly on foot, and sweating under the deal +box, which he had strapped round his shoulders like a pedlar. "Welcome, +welcome, Moses! Well, my boy, what have you brought us from the fair?" +"I have brought you myself," cried Moses, with a sly look, and resting +the box on the dresser. "Ay, Moses," cried my wife, "that we know; but +where is the horse?" "I have sold him," cried Moses, "for three pounds +five shillings and twopence." "Well done, my good boy," returned she; +"I knew you would touch them off. Between ourselves, three pounds five +shillings and twopence is no bad day's work. Come, let us have it then." +"I have brought back no money," cried Moses again. "I have laid it all +out in a bargain, and here it is," pulling out a bundle from his breast; +"here they are; a gross of green spectacles, with silver rims and +shagreen cases." "A gross of green spectacles!" repeated my wife, in a +faint voice. "And you have parted with the colt, and brought us back +nothing but a gross of green paltry spectacles!" "Dear mother," cried +the boy, "why won't you listen to reason? I had them a dead bargain, +or I should not have brought them. The silver rims alone will sell for +double the money." "A fig for the silver rims," cried my wife, in a +passion: "I dare swear they won't sell for above half the money at the +rate of broken silver, five shillings an ounce." "You need be under no +uneasiness," cried I, "about selling the rims, for they are not worth +sixpence; for I perceive they are only copper varnished over." "What!" +cried my wife, "not silver! the rims not silver?" "No," cried I, "no +more silver than your saucepan." "And so," returned she, "we have parted +with the colt, and have only got a gross of green spectacles, with +copper rims and shagreen cases? A murrain take such trumpery! The +blockhead has been imposed upon, and should have known his company +better." "There, my dear," cried I, "you are wrong; he should not have +known them at all." "Marry, hang the idiot!" returned she, "to bring me +such stuff: if I had them I would throw them in the fire." "There again +you are wrong, my dear," cried I, "for though they be copper, we will +keep them by us, as copper spectacles, you know, are better than +nothing." + +By this time the unfortunate Moses was undeceived. He now saw that he +had been imposed upon by a prowling sharper, who, observing his figure, +had marked him for an easy prey. I therefore asked the circumstances +of his deception. He sold the horse, it seems, and walked the fair in +search of another. A reverend-looking man brought him to a tent, under +pretence of having one to sell. "Here," continued Moses, "we met another +man, very well dressed, who desired to borrow twenty pounds upon these, +saying that he wanted money, and would dispose of them for a third of +the value. The first gentleman, who pretended to be my friend, whispered +me to buy them, and cautioned me not to let so good an offer pass. I +sent for Mr. Flamborough, and they talked him up as finely as they did +me; and so at last we were persuaded to buy the two gross between us." + + GOLDSMITH. + + +[Note: _Moses at the fair_. This is an incident taken from Goldsmith's +novel, 'The Vicar of Wakefield.' The narrator throughout is the Vicar +himself, who tells us the simple joys and sorrows of his family, and the +foibles of each member of it.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + + A WISH. + + + Happy the man whose wish and care + A few paternal acres bound, + Content to breathe his native air + In his own ground. + + Whose herds with milk, whose fields with bread, + Whose flocks supply him with attire; + Whose trees in summer yield him shade, + In winter, fire. + + Blest who can unconcernedly find + Hours, days, and years, glide soft away + In health of body, peace of mind, + Quiet by day, + + Sound sleep by night; study and ease + Together mixed; sweet recreation, + And innocence, which most does please, + With meditation. + + Thus let me live, unseen, unknown; + Thus unlamented let me die; + Steal from the world, and not a stone + Tell where I lie. + + POPE. + + +[Notes: _Alexander Pope_, born 1688, died 1744. The author of numerous +poems and translations, all of them marked by the same lucid thought and +polished versification. The Essay on Man, the Satires and Epistles, and +the translations of Homer's Iliad and Odyssey, are amongst the most +important. + + +Write a paraphrase of the first two stanzas.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +WHANG THE MILLER. + +Whang, the miller, was naturally avaricious; nobody loved money better +than he, or more respected those that had it. When people would talk of +a rich man in company, Whang would say, "I know him very well; he and I +are intimate; he stood for a child of mine." But if ever a poor man was +mentioned, he had not the least knowledge of the man; he might be very +well for aught he knew; but he was not fond of many acquaintances, and +loved to choose his company. + +Whang, however, with all his eagerness for riches, was in reality poor; +he had nothing but the profits of his mill to support him; but though +these were small, they were certain; while his mill stood and went, he +was sure of eating; and his frugality was such that he every day laid +some money by, which he would at intervals count and contemplate with +much satisfaction. Yet still his acquisitions were not equal to his +desires; he only found himself above want, whereas he desired to be +possessed of affluence. + +One day, as he was indulging these wishes, he was informed that a +neighbour of his had found a pan of money under ground, having dreamed +of it three nights running before. These tidings were daggers to the +heart of poor Whang. "Here am I," says he, "toiling and moiling from +morning till night for a few paltry farthings, while neighbour Hunks +only goes quietly to bed, and dreams himself into thousands before +morning. Oh that I could dream like him! with what pleasure would I dig +round the pan; how slily would I carry it home; not even nay wife should +see me; and then, oh, the pleasure of thrusting one's hand into a heap +of gold up to the elbow!" + +Such reflections only served to make the miller unhappy; he discontinued +his former assiduity; he was quite disgusted with small gains, and his +customers began to forsake him. Every day he repeated the wish, and +every night laid himself down in order to dream. Fortune, that was for a +long time unkind, at last, however, seemed to smile upon his distresses, +and indulged him with the wished-for vision. He dreamed that under +a certain part of the foundation of his mill there was concealed a +monstrous pan of gold and diamonds, buried deep in the ground, and +covered with a large flat stone. He rose up, thanked the stars that were +at last pleased to take pity on his sufferings, and concealed his good +luck from every person, as is usual in money dreams, in order to have +the vision repeated the two succeeding nights, by which he should be +certain of its veracity. His wishes in this also were answered; he still +dreamed of the same pan of money, in the very same place. + +Now, therefore, it was past a doubt; so, getting up early the third +morning, he repairs alone, with a mattock in his hand, to the mill, and +began to undermine that part of the wall which the vision directed. +The first omen of success that he met was a broken mug; digging still +deeper, he turns up a house tile, quite new and entire. At last, after +much digging, he came to the broad flat stone, but then so large, that +it was beyond one man's strength to remove it. "Here," cried he, in +raptures, to himself, "here it is! under this stone there is room for a +very large pan of diamonds indeed! I must e'en go home to my wife, and +tell her the whole affair, and get her to assist me in turning it up." +Away, therefore, he goes, and acquaints his wife with every circumstance +of their good fortune. Her raptures on this occasion may easily be +imagined; she flew round his neck, and embraced him in an agony of joy: +but those transports, however, did not delay their eagerness to know the +exact sum; returning, therefore, speedily together to the place where +Whang had been digging, there they found--not indeed the expected +treasure, but the mill, their only support, undermined and fallen. + + GOLDSMITH. + + +[Note: _He stood for a child of mine_, i.e., stood as godfather for a +child of mine.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + + A SEA SONG. + + + A wet sheet and a flowing sea, + A wind that follows fast, + And fills the white and rustling sail + And bends the gallant mast. + And bends the gallant mast, my boys, + While, like the eagle free, + Away the good ship flies, and leaves + Old England on the lee. + + Oh, for a soft and gentle wind, + I heard a fair one cry: + But give to me the snoring breeze + And white waves heaving high. + And white waves heaving high, my lads, + A good ship, tight and free, + The world of waters is our home, + And merry men are we. + + There's tempest in yon horned moon, + And lightning in yon cloud; + And hark the music, mariners! + The wind is piping loud. + The wind is piping loud, my boys, + The lightning flashes free; + While the hollow oak our palace is, + Our heritage the sea. + + CUNNINGHAM. + + +[Note: _A wet sheet_. The _sheet_ is the rope fastened to the lower +corner of a sail to retain it in position.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + + ON THE LOSS OF THE 'ROYAL GEORGE.' + + + Toll for the brave! + The brave that are no more; + All sunk beneath the wave, + Fast by their native shore! + + Eight hundred of the brave, + Whose courage well was tried, + Had made the vessel heel, + And laid her on her side. + + A land breeze shook the shrouds, + And she was overset; + Down went the 'Royal George,' + With all her crew complete. + + Toll for the brave! + Brave Kempenfeldt is gone; + His last sea-fight is fought; + His work of glory done. + + It was not in the battle; + No tempest gave the shock; + She sprang no fatal leak; + She ran upon no rock. + + His sword was in its sheath; + His fingers held the pen, + When Kempenfeldt went down, + With twice four hundred men. + + Weigh the vessel up, + Once dreaded by our foes! + And mingle with our cup, + The tear that England owes. + + Her timbers yet are sound, + And she may float again, + Full-charged with England's thunder, + And plough the distant main. + + But Kempenfeldt is gone, + His victories are o'er; + And he and his eight hundred + Shall plough the wave no more. + + COWPER. + + +[Note: _The Royal George_. A ship of war, which went down with Admiral +Kempenfeldt and her crew off Spithead in 1782, while undergoing a +partial careening.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +AN ESCAPE. + + +After we had rowed, or rather driven, about a league and a half, as we +reckoned it, a raging wave, mountain-like, came rolling astern of us, +and plainly bade us expect our end. In a word, it took us with such a +fury that it overset the boat at once; and, separating us as well from +the boat as from one another, gave us not time hardly to say, "O God!" +for we were all swallowed up in a moment. + +Nothing can describe the confusion of thought which I felt when I sunk +into the water; for though I swam very well, yet I could not deliver +myself from the waves, so as to draw breath, till that wave having +driven me, or rather carried me a vast way on towards the shore, and +having spent itself, went back, and left me upon the land almost dry, +but half dead from the water I took in. I had so much presence of mind +as well as breath left, that, seeing myself nearer the mainland than I +expected, I got upon my feet, and endeavoured to make on towards the +land as fast as I could, before another wave should return, and take me +up again. But I soon found it was impossible to avoid it; for I saw the +sea come after me as high as a great hill, and as furious as an enemy, +which I had no means or strength to contend with; my business was to +hold my breath, and raise myself upon the water, if I could: and so by +swimming to preserve my breathing, and pilot myself towards the shore, +if possible; my greatest concern now being, that the sea, as it would +carry me a great way towards the shore when it came on, might not carry +me back again with it when it gave back towards the sea. + +The wave that came upon me again, buried me at once twenty or thirty +feet deep in its own body; and I could feel myself carried with a mighty +force and swiftness towards the shore a very great way; but I held my +breath, and assisted myself to swim still forward with all my might. I +was ready to burst with holding my breath, when, as I felt myself rising +up, so, to my immediate relief, I found my head and hands shoot out +above the surface of the water; and though it was not two seconds of +time that I could keep myself so, yet it relieved me greatly, gave me +breath and new courage. I was covered again with water a good while, but +not so long but I held it out; and finding the water had spent itself, +and began to return, I struck forward against the return of the waves, +and felt ground again with my feet. I stood still a few moments to +recover breath, and till the water went from me, and then took to my +heels, and run with what strength I had farther towards the shore. But +neither would this deliver me from the fury of the sea, which came +pouring in after me again, and twice more I was lifted up by the waves, +and carried forwards as before, the shore being very flat. + +The last time of these two had well near been fatal to me; for the +sea having hurried me along as before, landed me, or rather dashed +me against a piece of a rock, and that with such force as it left me +senseless, and indeed helpless, as to my own deliverance; for the blow +taking my side and breast, beat the breath, as it were, quite out of my +body; and had it returned again immediately, I must have been strangled +in the water; but I recovered a little before the return of the waves, +and seeing I should be covered again with the water, I resolved to hold +fast by a piece of the rock, and so to hold my breath, if possible, till +the wave went back; now as the waves were not so high as at first, being +near land, I held my hold till the wave abated, and then fetched another +run, which brought me so near the shore that the next wave, though it +went over me, yet did not so swallow me up as to carry me away, and the +next run I took, I got to the main land, where, to my great comfort, I +clambered up the clifts of the shore, and sat me down upon the grass, +free from danger, and quite out of the reach of the water. + +DEFOE'S _Robinson Crusoe_. + + + +[Notes: _Daniel Defoe_, born 1663, died 1731. He was prominent as a +political writer, but his later fame has rested chiefly on his works of +fiction, of which 'Robinson Crusoe' (from which this extract is taken) +is the most important. + + +"_Gave us not time hardly to say_." This to us has the effect of a +double negative. But if we take "hardly" in its strict sense, the +sentence is clear: "did not give us time, even with difficulty, to say." + + + (_at foot_)."_As_ I felt myself rising up, _so_ to my +immediate relief." Note this use of _as_ and _so_, in a way which now +sounds archaic. + + + _Run_. The older form, for which we would use _ran_. + + +"That with such force, _as_ it left me," &c. For _as_, we would now use +_that_. + + +_Clifts of the shore_. Like clefts, broken openings in the shore.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + + RULE BRITANNIA. + + + When Britain first, at Heaven's command, + Arose from out the azure main, + This was the charter of the land, + And guardian angels sung this strain: + Rule, Britannia, rule the waves, + Britons never will be slaves! + + The nations, not so blessed as thee, + Must in their turn to tyrants fall; + While thou shalt flourish great and free, + The dread and envy of them all. + + Still more majestic shalt thou rise, + More dreadful from each foreign stroke; + As the loud blast that tears the skies, + Serves but to root thy native oak. + + Thee haughty tyrants ne'er shall tame: + All their attempts to bend thee down + Will but arouse thy generous flame; + But work their woe and thy renown. + + To thee belongs the rural reign; + Thy cities shall with commerce shine; + All thine shall be the subject main: + And every shore it circles thine. + + The Muses, still with freedom found, + Shall to thy happy coast repair: + Blessed isle! with matchless beauty crowned, + And manly hearts to guard the fair: + Rule, Britannia, rule the waves, + Britons never will be slaves! + + THOMSON. + + +[Notes: _James Thomson_, born 1700, died 1748. He was educated for the +Scotch ministry, but came to London, and commenced his career as a poet +by the series of poems called the 'Seasons,' descriptive of scenes in +nature. + + + _The Muses, i.e._, the Sciences and Arts, which flourish best +where there are free institutions.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + + WATERLOO. + + + There was a sound of revelry by night, + And Belgium's capital had gathered then + Her Beauty and her Chivalry; and bright + The lamps shone o'er fair women and brave men; + A thousand hearts beat happily; and when + Music arose with its voluptuous swell, + Soft eyes look'd love to eyes which spake again, + And all went merry as a marriage-bell;-- + But hush! hark! a deep sound strikes like a rising + knell! + + Did ye not hear it?--No; 'twas but the wind, + Or the car rattling o'er the stony street: + On with the dance! let joy be unconfined; + No sleep till morn, when Youth and Pleasure meet + To chase the glowing Hours with flying feet-- + But hark!--That heavy sound breaks in once more, + As if the clouds its echo would repeat; + And nearer, clearer, deadlier than before! + Arm! arm! it is--it is--the cannon's opening roar! + + Ah! then and there was hurrying to and fro, + And gathering tears, and tremblings of distress, + And cheeks all pale, which but an hour ago + Blush'd at the praise of their own loveliness: + And there were sudden partings, such as press + The life from out young hearts, and choking sighs + Which ne'er might be repeated; who could guess + If ever more should meet those mutual eyes, + Since upon night so sweet such awful morn could rise? + + And there was mounting in hot haste: the steed, + The mustering squadron, and the clattering car, + Went pouring forward with impetuous speed, + And swiftly forming in the ranks of war; + And the deep thunder peal on peal afar; + And near, the beat of the alarming drum + Roused up the soldier ere the morning-star; + While throng'd the citizens, with terror dumb, + Or whispering, with white lips,--"The foe! they come! + they come!" + + And Ardennes waves above them her green leaves, + Dewy with nature's tear-drops, as they pass, + Grieving, if aught inanimate e'er grieves, + Over the unreturning brave,--alas! + Ere evening to be trodden like the grass, + Which now beneath them, but above shall grow + In its next verdure; when this fiery mass + Of living valour, rolling on the foe + And burning with high hope, shall moulder cold and low! + + Last noon beheld them full of lusty life, + Last eve in Beauty's circle proudly gay, + The midnight brought the signal-sound of strife, + The morn the marshalling in arms,--the day + Battle's magnificently stern array! + The thunder-clouds close o'er it, which when rent + The earth is cover'd thick with other clay, + Which her own clay shall cover--heap'd and pent, + Rider and horse,--friend, foe,--in one red burial blent! + + BYRON. + + + +[Notes:_Waterloo_. Fought, 1815, between Napoleon on one side, and +Wellington and Blucher (the Prussian General) on the other. Its result +was the defeat of Napoleon, and his imprisonment by the Allies in St. +Helena. The festivities held at Brussels, the headquarters of the +British Army, on the eve of the battle, were rudely disturbed by the +news that the action had already begun. + + +_Ardennes_. A district on the frontier of France, bordering on Belgium. + + +_Ivry_. The battle in which Henry IV., in the struggle for the crown of +France, completely routed the forces of the Catholic League (1590). + + +_My white plume shine_. The white plume was the distinctive mark of the +House of Bourbon. + + +_Oriflamme_, or Auriflamme (lit. Flame of Gold), originally the banner +of the Abbey of St. Denis, afterwards appropriated by the crown of +France. "Let the helmet of Navarre (Henry's own country) be to-day the +Royal Standard of France." + + + _Culverin_. A piece of artillery of long range. + + + _The fiery Duke_ (of Mayenne). + + +_Pricking fast_. Cf. "a gentle knight was pricking o'er the plain" +(Spencer). + + _With all the hireling chivalry of Guelders and Almayne_. The +allies of the League. Almayne or Almen, a district in the Netherlands. + + + + + * * * * * + + + + + IVRY. + + + The King is come to marshal us, in all his armour drest, + And he has bound a snow-white plume upon his gallant crest. + He look'd upon his people, and a tear was in his eye: + He look'd upon the traitors, and his glance was stern and + high, + Right graciously he smiled on us, as roll'd from wing to + wing, + Down all our line a deafening shout, "God save our Lord the + King!" + "And if my standard-bearer fall, as fall full well he may, + For never saw I promise yet of such a bloody fray, + Press where ye see my white plume shine, amidst the ranks + of war, + And be your Oriflamme to-day the helmet of Navarre." + + Hurrah! the foes are moving. Hark to the mingled din + Of fife, and steed, and trump, and drum, and roaring + culverin! + The fiery Duke is pricking fast across St. Andre's plain, + With all the hireling chivalry of Guelders and Almayne. + Now by the lips of those we love, fair gentlemen of France, + Charge for the Golden Lilies,--upon them with the lance! + A thousand spurs are striking deep, a thousand spears in + rest, + A thousand knights are pressing close behind the snow-white + crest; + And in they burst, and on they rush'd, while, like a + guiding star, + Amidst the thickest carnage blazed the helmet of Navarre. + + Now, God be praised, the day is ours! Mayenne hath turned + his rein. + D'Aumale hath cried for quarter. The Flemish Count is + slain. + Their ranks are breaking like thin clouds before a Biscay + gale. + The field is heap'd with bleeding steeds, and flags, and + cloven mail. + And then we thought on vengeance, and, all along our van, + "Remember St. Bartholomew!" was pass'd from man to man: + But out spake gentle Henry, "No Frenchman is my foe; + Down, down, with every foreigner! but let your brethren + go." + Oh! was there ever such a knight, in friendship or in war, + As our Sovereign Lord, King Henry, the soldier of Navarre! + + Ho! maidens of Vienna; ho! matrons of Lucerne; + Weep, weep, and rend your hair for those who never shall + return. + Ho! Philip, send, for charity, thy Mexican pistoles, + That Antwerp monks may sing a mass for thy poor spearmen's + souls. + Ho! gallant nobles of the League, look that your arms be + bright: + Ho! burghers of St. Genevieve, keep watch and ward to- + night, + For our God hath crush'd the tyrant, our God hath raised + the slave, + And mock'd the counsel of the wise, and the valour of the + brave. + Then glory to His holy name, from whom all glories are; + And glory to our Sovereign Lord, King Henry of Navarre! + + MACAULAY. + + + +[Notes: _D'Aumale_, The Duke of; another leader of the League. + + +_The Flemish Court_. Count Egmont, the son of the Count Egmont, whose +death on the scaffold in 1568, in consequence of the resistance he +offered to the tyranny of Philip II. of Spain, has made the name famous. +The son, on the other hand, was the attached servant of Philip II.; and +was unnatural enough to say, when reminded of his father, "Talk not of +him, he deserved his death." + + +_Remember St. Bartholomew_, i.e., the massacre of the Protestants on St. +Bartholomew's day, 1572. + + +_Maidens of Vienna: matrons of Lucerne_. In reference to the Austrian +and Swiss Allies of the League. + + +_Thy Mexican pistoles_. Alluding to the riches gained by the Spanish +monarchy from her American colonies. + + +_Ho! burghers of St. Genevieve_ = citizens of Paris, of which St. +Genevieve was held to be the patron saint.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +NECESSITY THE MOTHER OF INVENTION. + +And now I began to apply myself to make such necessary things as I found +I most wanted, as particularly a chair or a table; for without these I +was not able to enjoy the few comforts I had in the world; I could not +write or eat, or do several things with so much pleasure without a +table. + +So I went to work; and here I must needs observe that, as reason is the +substance and original of the mathematics, so by stating and squaring +everything by reason, and by making the most rational judgment of +things, every man may be in time master of every mechanic art. I +had never handled a tool in my life, and yet in time, by labour, +application, and contrivance, I found at last that I wanted nothing but +I could have made it, especially if I had had tools; however, I made +abundance of things, even without tools, and some with no more tools +than an adze and a hatchet, which perhaps were never made that way +before, and that with infinite labour; for example, if I wanted a board, +I had no other way but to cut down a tree, set it on an edge before me, +and hew it flat on either side with my axe, till I had brought it to be +as thin as a plank, and then dubb it smooth with my adze. It is true, by +this method, I could make but one board out of a whole tree, but this I +had no remedy for but patience, any more than I had for the prodigious +deal of time and labour which it took me up to make a plank or board; +but my time or labour was little worth, and so it was as well employed +one way as another. + +However, I made me a table and a chair, as I observed above, in the +first place, and this I did out of the short pieces of boards that +I brought on my raft from the ship: but when I had wrought out some +boards, as above, I made large shelves of the breadth of a foot and a +half one over another, all along one side of my cave, to lay all my +tools, nails, and iron-work, and in a word, to separate everything at +large in their places, that I might come easily at them; I knocked +pieces into the wall of the rock to hang my guns and all things that +would hang up. So that had my cave been to be seen, it looked like a +general magazine of all necessary things, and I had everything so ready +at my hand, that it was a great pleasure to me to see all my goods in +such order, and especially to find my stock of all necessaries so great. + + +DEFOE'S _Robinson Crusoe._ + + + +[Notes: _Reason is the substance and original of the mathematics_. +Original here = origin or foundation.] + + +_The most rational judgment_ = the judgment most in accordance with +reason.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + + ANCIENT GREECE. + + + Clime of the unforgotten brave! + Whose land from plain to mountain-cave + Was Freedom's home or Glory's grave! + Shrine of the mighty! can it be + That this is all remains of thee? + Approach, thou craven crouching slave: + Say, is not this Thermopylae? + These waters blue that round you lave,-- + Oh servile offspring of the free!-- + Pronounce what sea, what shore is this? + The gulf, the rock of Salamis! + These scenes, their story not unknown, + Arise, and make again your own; + Snatch from the ashes of your sires + The embers of their former fires; + And he who in the strife expires + Will add to theirs a name of fear + That Tyranny shall quake to hear, + And leave his sons a hope, a fame, + They too will rather die than shame: + For Freedom's battle once begun, + Bequeathed by bleeding Sire to Son, + Though baffled oft is ever won. + Bear witness, Greece, thy living page! + Attest it many a deathless age! + While kings, in dusty darkness hid, + Have left a nameless pyramid, + Thy heroes, though the general doom + Hath swept the column from their tomb, + A mightier monument command, + The mountains of their native land! + There points thy Muse to stranger's eye + The graves of those that cannot die! + 'Twere long to tell, and sad to trace, + Each step from splendour to disgrace, + Enough--no foreign foe could quell + Thy soul, till from itself it fell; + Yes! Self-abasement paved the way + To villain-bonds and despot sway. + + + +BYRON. + + + +[Notes: _Lord Byron_, born 1788, died 1824. The most powerful English +poet of the early part of this century. + + +_Thermapylae._ The pass at which Leonidas and his Spartans resisted the +approach of the Persians (B.C. 480). + +_Salamis_. Where the Athenians fought the great naval battle which +destroyed the Persian fleet, and secured the liberties of Greece.] + + + + * * * * * + + + + + THE TEMPLE OF FAME. + + + The Temple shakes, the sounding gates unfold, + Wide vaults appear, and roofs of fretted gold, + Raised on a thousand pillars wreathed around + With laurel-foliage and with eagles crowned; + Of bright transparent beryl were the walls, + The friezes gold, and gold the capitals: + As heaven with stars, the roof with jewels glows, + And ever-living lamps depend in rows. + Full in the passage of each spacious gate + The sage historians in white garments wait: + Graved o'er their seats, the form of Time was found, + His scythe reversed, and both his pinions bound. + Within stood heroes, who through loud alarms + In bloody fields pursued renown in arms. + High on a throne, with trophies charged, I viewed + The youth that all things but himself subdued; + His feet on sceptres and tiaras trode, + And his horned head belied the Libyan god. + There Caesar, graced with both Minervas, shone; + Caesar, the world's great master, and his own; + Unmoved, superior still in every state, + And scarce detested in his country's fate. + But chief were those, who not for empire fought, + But with their toils their people's safety bought: + High o'er the rest Epaminondas stood: + Timoleon, glorious in his brother's blood: + Bold Scipio, saviour of the Roman state, + Great in his triumphs, in retirement great; + And wise Aurelius, in whose well-taught mind + With boundless power unbounded virtue joined, + His own strict judge, and patron of mankind. + Much-suffering heroes next their honours claim, + Those of less noisy and less guilty fame, + Fair Virtue's silent train: supreme of these + Here ever shines the godlike Socrates; + He whom ungrateful Athens could expel, + At all times just but when he signed the shell: + Here his abode the martyred Phocion claims, + With Agis, not the last of Spartan names: + Unconquered Cato shows the wound he tore, + And Brutus his ill Genius meets no more. + But in the centre of the hallowed choir, + Six pompous columns o'er the rest aspire; + Around the shrine itself of Fame they stand, + Hold the chief honours, and the Fane command. + High on the first the mighty Homer shone; + Eternal adamant composed his throne; + Father of verse! in holy fillets drest, + His silver beard waved gently o'er his breast: + Though blind, a boldness in his looks appears; + In years he seemed, but not impaired by years. + The wars of Troy were round the pillar seen: + Here fierce Tydides wounds the Cyprian Queen; + Here Hector glorious from Patroclus' fall, + Here dragged in triumph round the Trojan wall. + Motion and life did every part inspire, + Bold was the work, and proved the master's fire. + A strong expression most he seemed t' affect, + And here and there disclosed a brave neglect. + A golden column next in rank appeared, + On which a shrine of purest gold was reared; + Finished the whole, and laboured every part, + With patient touches of unwearied art; + The Mantuan there in sober triumph sate, + Composed his posture, and his look sedate: + On Homer still he fixed a reverent eye, + Great without pride, in modest majesty, + In living sculpture on the sides were spread + The Latian wars, and haughty Turnus dead: + Eliza stretched upon the funeral pyre, + Aeneas bending with his aged sire: + Troy flamed in burning gold, and o'er the throne + _Arms and the Man_ in golden ciphers shone. + Four swans sustain a car of silver bright, + With heads advanced, and pinions stretched for flight, + Here, like some furious prophet, Pindar rode, + And seemed to labour with the inspiring God. + Across the harp a careless hand he flings, + And boldly sinks into the sounding strings. + The figured games of Greece the column grace, + Neptune and Jove survey the rapid race. + The youths hang o'er their chariots as they run; + The fiery steeds seem starting from the stone: + The champions in distorted postures threat; + And all appeared irregularly great. + Here happy Horace tuned th' Ausonian lyre + To sweeter sounds, and tempered Pindar's fire; + Pleased with Alcaeus' manly rage t' infuse + The softer spirit of the Sapphic Muse. + The polished pillar different sculptures grace; + A work outlasting monumental brass. + Here smiling Loves and Bacchanals appear, + The Julian star, and great Augustus here: + The Doves, that round the infant Poet spread + Myrtles and bays, hang hov'ring o'er his head. + Here, in a shrine that cast a dazzling light, + Sate, fixed in thought, the mighty Stagyrite: + His sacred head a radiant zodiac crowned, + And various animals his sides surround: + His piercing eyes, erect, appear to view + Superior worlds, and look all Nature through. + With equal rays immortal Tully shone; + The Roman rostra decked the Consul's throne: + Gathering his flowing robe, he seemed to stand + In act to speak, and graceful stretched his hand. + Behind, Rome's Genius waits with civic crowns, + And the great Father of his country owns. + These massy columns in a circle rise, + O'er which a pompous dome invades the skies: + Scarce to the top I stretched my aching sight, + So large it spread, and swelled to such a height. + Full in the midst proud Fame's imperial seat + With jewels blazed magnificently great: + The vivid emeralds there revive the eye, + The flaming rubies show their sanguine dye, + Bright azure rays from lively sapphires stream, + And lucid amber casts a golden gleam, + With various coloured light the pavement shone, + And all on fire appeared the glowing throne; + The dome's high arch reflects the mingled blaze, + And forms a rainbow of alternate rays. + When on the Goddess first I cast my sight, + Scarce seemed her stature of a cubit's height; + But swelled to larger size the more I gazed, + Till to the roof her towering front she raised; + With her the Temple every moment grew, + And ampler vistas opened to my view: + Upward the columns shoot, the roofs ascend, + And arches widen, and long aisles extend, + Such was her form, as ancient Bards have told, + Wings raise her arms, and wings her feet infold; + A thousand busy tongues the Goddess bears, + A thousand open eyes, a thousand listening ears. + Beneath, in order ranged, the tuneful Nine + (Her virgin handmaids) still attend the shrine: + With eyes on Fame for ever fixed, they sing; + For Fame they raise the voice, and tune the string: + With Time's first birth began the heavenly lays, + And last eternal through the length of days. + Around these wonders, as I cast a look, + The trumpet sounded, and the temple shook, + And all the nations, summoned at the call, + From diff'rent quarters, fill the crowded hall: + Of various tongues the mingled sounds were heard; + In various garbs promiscuous throngs appeared; + Thick as the bees that with the spring renew + Their flow'ry toils, and sip the fragrant dew, + When the winged colonies first tempt the sky, + O'er dusky fields and shaded waters fly; + Or, settling, seize the sweets the blossoms yield, + And a low murmur runs along the field. + Millions of suppliant crowds the shrine attend, + And all degrees before the Goddess bend; + The poor, the rich, the valiant, and the sage, + And boasting youth, and narrative old age. + Their pleas were diff'rent, their request the same: + For good and bad alike are fond of Fame. + Some she disgraced, and some with honours crowned; + Unlike successes equal merits found. + Thus her blind sister, fickle Fortune, reigns, + And, undiscerning, scatters crowns and chains. + First at the shrine the Learned world appear, + And to the Goddess thus prefer their pray'r: + "Long have we sought t' instruct and please mankind, + With studies pale, with midnight vigils blind; + But thanked by few, rewarded yet by none. + We here appeal to thy superior throne: + On wit and learning the just prize bestow, + For fame is all we must expect below." + The Goddess heard, and bade the Muses raise + The golden Trumpet of eternal Praise: + From pole to pole the winds diffuse the sound + That fills the circuit of the world around. + Not all at once, as thunder breaks the cloud: + The notes, at first, were rather sweet than loud. + By just degrees they ev'ry moment rise, + Fill the wide earth, and gain upon the skies. + At ev'ry breath were balmy odours shed, + Which still grew sweeter as they wider spread; + Less fragrant scents th' unfolding rose exhales, + Or spices breathing in Arabian gales. + Next these, the good and just, an awful train, + Thus, on their knees, address the sacred fane: + "Since living virtue is with envy cursed, + And the best men are treated like the worst, + Do thou, just Goddess, call our merits forth, + And give each deed th' exact intrinsic worth." + "Not with bare justice shall your act be crowned," + (Said Fame,) "but high above desert renowned: + Let fuller notes th' applauding world amaze, + And the loud clarion labour in your praise." + This band dismissed, behold another crowd + Preferred the same request, and lowly bowed; + The constant tenour of whose well-spent days + No less deserved a just return of praise. + But straight the direful Trump of Slander sounds; + Through the big dome the doubling thunder bounds; + Loud as the burst of cannon rends the skies, + The dire report through ev'ry region flies; + In ev'ry ear incessant rumours rung, + And gath'ring scandals grew on ev'ry tongue. + From the black trumpet's rusty concave broke + Sulphureous flames, and clouds of rolling smoke; + The pois'nous vapour blots the purple skies, + And withers all before it as it flies. + A troop came next, who crowns and armour wore, + And proud defiance in their looks they bore: + "For thee" (they cried), "amidst alarms and strife, + We sailed in tempests down the stream of life; + For thee whole nations filled with flames and blood, + And swam to empire through the purple flood. + Those ills we dared, thy inspiration own; + What virtue seemed was done for thee alone." + "Ambitious fools!" (the Queen replied, and frowned): + "Be all your acts in dark oblivion drowned; + There sleep forgot, with mighty tyrants gone, + Your statues mouldered, and your names unknown!" + A sudden cloud straight snatched them from my sight, + And each majestic phantom sunk in night. + Then came the smallest tribe I yet had seen; + Plain was their dress, and modest was their mien. + "Great idol of mankind! we neither claim + The praise of merit, nor aspire to fame! + But safe, in deserts, from the applause of men, + Would die unheard-of, as we lived unseen. + 'Tis all we beg thee, to conceal from sight + Those acts of goodness, which themselves requite. + O let us still the secret joy partake, + To follow virtue ev'n for virtue's sake." + "And live there men who slight immortal fame? + Who, then, with incense shall adore our name? + But, mortals! know, 'tis still our greatest pride + To blaze those virtues which the good would hide. + Rise! Muses, rise! add all your tuneful breath; + These must not sleep in darkness and in death," + She said: in air the trembling music floats, + And on the winds triumphant swell the notes: + So soft, though high; so loud, and yet so clear; + Ev'n list'ning angels leaned from heaven to hear: + To farthest shores th' ambrosial spirit flies, + Sweet to the world, and grateful to the skies. + + + +Pope. + + + +[Notes: _Alexander Pope_. (See previous note on Pope.) The hint of this +poem is taken from one by Chaucer, called 'The House of Fame.' + + +_Depend in rows. Depend_ in its proper and literal meaning, "hang down." + + +_The youth that all things but himself subdued_ = Alexander the Great +(356-323 B.C.). + + +_His feet on sceptres and tiaras trod. Tiaras_, in reference to his +conquests over the Asiatic monarchies. + + +_His horned head belied the Libyan god_. "The desire to be thought the +son of Jupiter Ammon caused him to wear the horns of that god, and to +represent the same upon his coins." _(Pope's note_.) Libyan = African. + + +_Caesar graced with both Minervas, i.e.,_ by warlike and literary +genius; as the conqueror of Gaul and the writer of the 'Commentaries.' + + +_Scarce detested in his country's fate_. Whom even the enslaving of his +country scarce makes us detest. + +_Epaminondas_ (died 362 B.C.), the maintainer of Theban independence. + + +_Timoleon_, of Corinth, who slew his brother when he found him aspiring +to be tyrant in the state (died 337 B.C.). + + +_Scipio_. The conqueror of Carthage, which was long the rival of Rome. + + +_Aurelius, i.e.,_ Marcus Aurelius Antoninus (121-180 A.D.), Emperor of +Rome; one of the brightest characters in Roman history. + + +_Socrates_. The great Greek philosopher, who, in maintaining truth, +incurred the charge of infecting the young men of Athens with impiety, +and was put to death by being made to drink hemlock. His life and +teaching are known to us through the writings of his disciple, Plato. + + +_He whom ungrateful Athens_, &c., i.e., Aristides (see page 171), +distinguished by the surname of _The Just_. He was unjust, Pope means, +only when he signed the shell for his own condemnation. + + +_Phocion_. An Athenian general and statesman (402-318 B.C.), put to +death by Polysperchon. He injured rather than helped the liberties of +Athens. + + +_Agis_, "King of Sparta, who endeavoured to restore his state to +greatness by a radical agrarian reform, was after a mock trial murdered +in prison, B.C. 241." _Ward_. + + +_Cato_, who, to escape disgrace amid the evils which befell his country, +stabbed himself in 46 B.C. + + +_Brutus his ill Genius meets no more_. See the account of the Eve of +Philippi in Book IV. + + +_The wars of Troy_. Described by Homer in his Iliad. + + +_Tydides (Diomede) wounds the Cyprian Queen (Venus)_. A scene described +in the Iliad. + + +_Hector_. Slew Patroclus, the friend of Achilles, and in revenge was +dragged by him round the walls of Troy. + + +_The Mantuan_, i.e., the Roman poet Virgil, author of the Aeneid, born +at Mantua (70-19 B.C.) + + +_Eliza_ = Elissa, or Dido, whose misfortunes are described in the +Aeneid. + + +_Aeneas bending with his aged sire_. Aeneas carried his father, +Anchises, from the flames of Troy on his shoulders. + + +_Arms and the Man_. The opening words of the Aeneid. + + +_Pindar_. Of Thebes, who holds the first place among the lyric poets of +Greece. The character and subjects of his poetry, of which the portions +remaining to us are the Triumphal Odes, celebrating victories gained in +the great games of Greece, are indicated by the lines that follow. + + +_Happy Horace_ (65-8 B.C.). The epithet is used to describe the +lightsome and genial tone of Horace's poetry. _Ausonian lyre_ = Italian +song. Ausonia is a poetical name for Italy. + + +_Alcoeus and Sappho_. Two of the early lyric poets of Greece. + + +_A work outlasting monumental brass_. This line is suggested by one of +Horace, when he describes his work as "a monument more lasting than +brass." + + +_The Julian star, and great Augustus here_. Referring to the Imperial +house and its representative, Augustus, Horace's chief patron. + + +_Stagyrite_. Aristotle, the great philosopher of Greece (384-322 B.C.), +born at Stagira. Pope here shortens the second syllable by a poetical +licence. + + +_Tully_. Marcus Tullius Cicero, the great orator, statesman, and writer +of Rome. For saving the city from the conspiracy of Catiline, he was +honoured with the title of "Father of his country." + + +_Narrative old age_. Talkative old age. + + +_Unlike successes equal merits found_ = The same desert found now +success, now failure.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +LABRADOR. + + +The following narrative is from the periodical account of the Moravian +Missions. It contains some of the most impressive descriptions I ever +remember to have read. + +Brother Samuel Liebiseh was at the time of this occurrence entrusted +with the general care of the brethren's missions on the coast of +Labrador. The duties of his office required a visit to Okkak, the most +northern of our settlements, and about one hundred and fifty English +miles distant from Nain, the place where he resided. Brother William +Turner being appointed to accompany him, they left Nain together on +March the 11th, 1782, early in the morning, with very clear weather, +the stars shining with uncommon lustre. The sledge was driven by the +baptised Esquimaux Mark, and another sledge with Esquimaux joined +company. + +An Esquimaux sledge is drawn by a species of dogs, not unlike a wolf in +shape. Like them, they never bark, but howl disagreeably. They are kept +by the Esquimaux in greater or larger packs or teams, in proportion to +the affluence of the master. They quietly submit to be harnessed for +their work, and are treated with little mercy by the heathen Esquimaux, +who make them do hard duty for the small quantity of food they allow +them. This consists chiefly in offal, old skins, entrails, such parts of +whale-flesh as are unfit for other use, rotten whale-fins, &c.; and if +they are not provided with this kind of dog's meat, they leave them to +go and seek dead fish or muscles upon the beach. + +When pinched with hunger they will swallow almost anything, and on a +journey it is necessary to secure the harness within the snow-house +over night, lest, by devouring it, they should render it impossible +to proceed in the morning. When the travellers arrive at their night +quarters, and the dogs are unharnessed, they are left to burrow on the +snow, where they please, and in the morning are sure to come at their +driver's call, when they receive some food. Their strength and speed; +even with a hungry stomach, is astonishing. In fastening them to the +sledge, care is taken not to let them go abreast. They are tied by +separate thongs, of unequal lengths, to a horizontal bar in the fore +part of the sledge; an old knowing one leads the way, running ten or +twenty paces ahead, directed by the driver's whip, which is of great +length, and can be well managed only by an Esquimaux. The other dogs +follow like a flock of sheep. If one of them receives a lash, he +generally bites his neighbour, and the bite goes round. + +To return to our travellers. The sledge contained five men, one woman, +and a child. All were in good spirits, and appearances being much in +their favour, they hoped to reach Okkak in safety in two or three days. +The track over the frozen sea was in the best possible order, and they +went with ease at the rate of six or seven miles an hour. After they +had passed the islands in the bay of Nain, they kept at a considerable +distance from the coast, both to gain the smoothest part of the ice, and +to weather the high rocky promontory of Kiglapeit. About eight o'clock +they met a sledge with Esquimaux turning in from the sea. After the +usual salutation, the Esquimaux, alighting, held some conversation, as +is their general practice, the result of which was, that some hints were +thrown out by the strange Esquimaux that it might be better to return. +However, as the missionaries saw no reason whatever for it, and only +suspected that the Esquimaux wished to enjoy the company of their +friends a little longer, they proceeded. After some time, their own +Esquimaux hinted that there was a ground swell under the ice. It was +then hardly perceptible, except on lying down and applying the ear close +to the ice, when a hollow, disagreeably grating and roaring noise was +heard, as if ascending from the abyss. The weather remained clear, +except towards the east, where a bank of light clouds appeared, +interspersed with some dark streaks. But the wind being strong from the +north-west, nothing less than a sudden change of weather was expected. +The sun had now reached its height, and there was as yet little or no +alteration in the appearance of the sky. But the motion of the sea +under the ice had grown more perceptible, so as rather to alarm the +travellers, and they began to think it prudent to keep closer to the +shore. The ice had cracks and large fissures in many places, some +of which formed chasms of one or two feet wide; but as they are not +uncommon even in its best state, and the dogs easily leap over them, the +sledge following without danger, they are only terrible to new comers. + +As soon as the sun declined towards the west, the wind increased and +rose to a storm, the bank of clouds from the east began to ascend, and +the dark streaks to put themselves in motion against the wind. The snow +was violently driven about by partial whirlwinds, both on the ice, and +from off the peaks of the high mountains, and filled the air. At the +same time the ground-swell had increased so much that its effect upon +the ice became very extraordinary and alarming. The sledges, instead of +gliding along smoothly upon an even surface, sometimes ran with violence +after the dogs, and shortly after seemed with difficulty to ascend +the rising hill; for the elasticity of so vast a body of ice, of many +leagues square, supported by a troubled sea, though in some places +three or four yards in thickness, would, in some degree, occasion an +undulatory motion not unlike that of a sheet of paper accommodating +itself to the surface of a rippling stream. Noises were now likewise +distinctly heard in many directions, like the report of cannon, owing to +the bursting of the ice at some distance. + +The Esquimaux, therefore, drove with all haste towards the shore, +intending to take up their night-quarters on the south side of the +Nivak. But as it plainly appeared that the ice would break and disperse +in the open sea, Mark advised to push forward to the north of the Nivak, +from whence he hoped the track to Okkak might still remain entire. To +this proposal the company agreed; but when the sledges approached the +coast, the prospect before them was truly terrific. The ice having +broken loose from the rocks, was forced up and down, grinding and +breaking into a thousand pieces against the precipices, with a +tremendous noise, which, added to the raging of the wind, and the snow +driving about in the air, deprived the travellers almost of the power of +hearing and seeing anything distinctly. + +To make the land at any risk was now the only hope left, but it was with +the utmost difficulty the frighted dogs could be forced forward, the +whole body of ice sinking frequently below the surface of the rocks, +then rising above it. As the only moment to land was when it gained +the level of the coast, the attempt was extremely nice and hazardous. +However, by God's mercy, it succeeded; both sledges gained the shore, +and were drawn up the beach with much difficulty. + +The travellers had hardly time to reflect with gratitude to God on their +safety, when that part of the ice from which they had just now made good +their landing burst asunder, and the water, forcing itself from below, +covered and precipitated it into the sea. In an instant, as if by a +signal given, the whole mass of ice, extending for several miles from +the coast, and as far as the eye could reach, began to burst and be +overwhelmed by the immense waves. The sight was tremendous and awfully +grand: the large fields of ice, raising themselves out of the water, +striking against each other and plunging into the deep with a violence +not to be described, and a noise like the discharge of innumerable +batteries of heavy guns. The darkness of the night, the roaring of the +wind and sea, and the dashing of the waves and ice against the rocks, +filled the travellers with sensations of awe and horror, so as almost +to deprive them of the power of utterance. They stood overwhelmed with +astonishment at their miraculous escape, and even the heathen Esquimaux +expressed gratitude to God for their deliverance. + + + +[Note: _But high above desert renowned_ = Let it be renowned high above +desert.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + + A HAPPY LIFE. + + + How happy is he born or taught, + That serveth not another's will; + Whose armour is his honest thought, + And simple truth his highest skill. + + Whose passions not his masters are; + Whose soul is still prepared for death; + Not tied unto the world with care + Of prince's ear, or vulgar breath. + + Who hath his life from rumours freed; + Whose conscience is his strong retreat: + Whose state can neither flatterers feed, + Nor ruin make oppressors great. + + Who envies none whom chance doth raise, + Or vice: who never understood + How deepest wounds are given with praise; + Nor rules of state, but rules of good. + + Who God doth late and early pray + More of his grace than gifts to lend; + And entertains the harmless day + With a well-chosen book or friend. + + This man is freed from servile bands + Of hope to rise or fear to fall; + Lord of himself, though not of lands; + And having nothing, yet hath all. + + SIR HENRY WOTTON. + + + +[Notes: _Sir Henry Wotton_ (1568-1639). A poet, ambassador, and +miscellaneous writer, in the reign of James I. + + +_Born or taught_ = whether from natural character or by training. + + +_Nor ruin make oppressors great_ = nor _his_ ruin, &c. + + +_How deepest wounds are given with praise_. How praise may only cover +some concealed injury.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + + MAN'S SERVANTS. + + + For us the winds do blow; + The earth doth rest, heaven move, and fountains flow. + Nothing we see but means our good, + As our delight, or as our treasure: + The whole is either cupboard of our food, + Or cabinet of pleasure. + + The stars have us to bed; + Night draws the curtain, which the sun withdraws; + Music and light attend our head; + All things unto our flesh are kind + In their descent and being; to our mind + In their ascent and cause. + + More servants wait on Man + Than he'll take notice of. In every path + He treads down that which doth befriend him, + When sickness makes him pale and wan. + O mighty love! Man is one world, and hath + Another to attend him. + + Since, then, My God, Thou hast + So brave a palace built, O dwell in it, + That it may dwell with Thee at last! + Till then afford us so much wit + That, as the world serves _us_, we may serve _Thee_, + And both thy servants be. + + GEORGE HERBERT. + +[Notes: _George Herbert_ (1593-1632). A clergyman of the Church of +England, the author of many religious works in prose and poetry. His +poetry is overfull of conceits, but in spite of these is eminently +graceful and rich with fancy. + + +_The stars have its to led, i.e.,_ conduct, or show us to bed. + + +_All things unto our flesh are kind, &c., i.e.,_ as they minister to the +needs of our body here below, so they minister to the mind by leading +us to think of the Higher Cause that brings them into being. The words +_descent_ and _accent_ are not to be pressed; they are rather balanced +one against the other, according to the fashion of the day.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + + VIRTUE. + + + Sweet day, so cool, so calm, so bright, + The bridal of the earth and sky, + The dew shall weep thy fall to-night; + For thou must die. + + Sweet rose, whose hue, angry and brave, + Bids the rash gazer wipe his eye, + Thy root is ever in its grave, + And thou must die. + + Sweet spring, full of sweet days and roses, + A box where sweets compacted lie, + My music shows ye have your closes, + And all must die. + + Only a sweet and virtuous soul, + Like seasoned timber, never gives; + But though the whole world turn to coal, + Then chiefly lives. + + GEORGE HERBERT. + + + +[Note:----_The bridal of the earth and sky, i.e.,_ in which all the +beauties of sky and earth are united.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + + DEATH THE CONQUEROR. + + + The glories of our blood and state + Are shadows, not substantial things; + There is no armour against fate: + Death lays his icy hand on kings: + Sceptre and crown + Must tumble down, + And in the dust be equal made + With the poor crooked scythe and spade. + + Some men with swords may reap the field, + And plant fresh laurels where they kill; + But their strong nerves at last must yield, + They tame but one another still. + Early or late + They stoop to fate, + And must give up their murmuring breath, + When they, pale captives, creep to death. + + The garlands wither on your brow, + Then boast no more your mighty deeds; + Upon death's purple altar now + See, where the victor-victim bleeds; + All heads must come + To the cold tomb, + Only the actions of the just + Smell sweet, and blossom in their dust. + + JAMES SHIRLEY. + + + +[Notes: _James Shirley_ (1594-1666). A dramatic poet. + + +_And plant fresh laurels when they kill_ = even by the death they spread +around them in war, they may win new laurel-wreaths by victory. + + +_Purple_. As stained with blood.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +GROWTH OF EUROPEAN CIVILIZATION IN THE TWELFTH CENTURY. + +Various improvements in the system of jurisprudence, and administration +of justice, occasioned a change in manners, of great importance and of +extensive effect. They gave rise to a distinction of professions; they +obliged men to cultivate different talents, and to aim at different +accomplishments, in order to qualify themselves for the various +departments and functions which became necessary in society. Among +uncivilized nations there is but one profession honourable, that of +arms. All the ingenuity and vigour of the human mind are exerted in +acquiring military skill or address. The functions of peace are few and +simple, and require no particular course of education or of study as a +preparation for discharging them. This was the state of Europe during +several centuries. Every gentleman, born a soldier, scorned any other +occupation; he was taught no science but that of war; even his exercises +and pastimes were feats of martial prowess. Nor did the judicial +character, which persons of noble birth were alone entitled to assume, +demand any degree of knowledge beyond that which such untutored soldiers +possessed. To recollect a few traditionary customs which time had +confirmed, and rendered respectable; to mark out the lists of battle +with due formality; to observe the issue of the combat; and to pronounce +whether it had been conducted according to the laws of arms, included +everything that a baron, who acted as a judge, found it necessary to +understand. + +But when the forms of legal proceedings were fixed, when the rules of +decision were committed to writing, and collected into a body, law +became a science, the knowledge of which required a regular course of +study, together with long attention to the practice of courts. Martial +and illiterate nobles had neither leisure nor inclination to undertake a +task so laborious, as well as so foreign from all the occupations which +they deemed entertaining, or suitable to their rank. They gradually +relinquished their places in courts of justice, where their ignorance +exposed them to contempt. They became, weary of attending to the +discussion of cases, which grew too intricate for them to comprehend. +Not only the judicial determination of points which were the subject of +controversy, but the conduct of all legal business and transactions, was +committed to persons trained by previous study and application to the +knowledge of law. An order of men, to whom their fellow-citizens had +daily recourse for advice, and to whom they looked up for decision in +their most important concerns, naturally acquired consideration and +influence in society. They were advanced to honours which had been +considered hitherto as the peculiar rewards of military virtue. They +were entrusted with offices of the highest dignity and most extensive +power. Thus, another profession than that of arms came to be introduced +among the laity, and was reputed honourable. The functions of civil +life were attended to. The talents requisite for discharging them were +cultivated. A new road was opened to wealth and eminence. The arts and +virtues of peace were placed in their proper rank, and received their +due recompense. + +While improvements, so important with respect to the state of society +and the administration of justice, gradually made progress in Europe, +sentiments more liberal and generous had begun to animate the nobles. +These were inspired by the spirit of chivalry, which, though considered, +commonly, as a wild institution, the effect of caprice, and the source +of extravagance, arose naturally from the state of society at that +period, and had a very serious influence in refining the manners of the +European nations. The feudal state was a state of almost perpetual war, +rapine, and anarchy, during which the weak and unarmed were exposed +to insults or injuries. The power of the sovereign was too limited to +prevent these wrongs; and the administration of justice too feeble +to redress them. The most effectual protection against violence and +oppression was often found to be that which the valour and generosity +of private persons afforded. The same spirit of enterprise which had +prompted so many gentlemen to take arms in defence of the oppressed +pilgrims in Palestine, incited others to declare themselves the patrons +and avengers of injured innocence at home. When the final reduction of +the Holy Land under the dominion of infidels put an end to these foreign +expeditions, the latter was the only employment left for the activity +and courage of adventurers. To check the insolence of overgrown +oppressors; to rescue the helpless from captivity; to protect or to +avenge women, orphans, and ecclesiastics, who could not bear arms in +their own defence; to redress wrongs, and to remove grievances, were +deemed acts of the highest prowess and merit. Valour, humanity, +courtesy, justice, honour, were the characteristic qualities of +chivalry. To these was added religion, which mingled itself with every +passion and institution during the Middle Ages, and, by infusing a large +proportion of enthusiastic zeal, gave them such force as carried them +to romantic excess. Men were trained to knighthood by a long previous +discipline; they were admitted into the order by solemnities no less +devout than pompous; every person of noble birth courted that honour; it +was deemed a distinction superior to royalty; and monarchs were proud to +receive it from the hands of private gentlemen. + +This singular institution, in which valour, gallantry, and religion, +were so strangely blended, was wonderfully adapted to the taste and +genius of martial nobles; and its effects were soon visible in their +manners. War was carried on with less ferocity, when humanity came to be +deemed the ornament of knighthood no less than courage. More gentle and +polished manners were introduced, when courtesy was recommended as the +most amiable of knightly virtues. Violence and oppression decreased, +when it was reckoned meritorious to check and to punish them. A +scrupulous adherence to truth, with the most religious attention to +fulfil every engagement, became the distinguishing characteristic of a +gentleman, because chivalry was regarded as the school of honour, and +inculcated the most delicate sensibility with respect to those points. +The admiration of these qualities, together with the high distinctions +and prerogatives conferred on knighthood in every part of Europe, +inspired persons of noble birth on some occasions with a species of +military fanaticism, and led them to extravagant enterprises. But they +deeply imprinted on their minds the principles of generosity and honour. +These were strengthened by everything that can affect the senses or +touch the heart. The wild exploits of those romantic knights who sallied +forth in quest of adventures are well known, and have been treated with +proper ridicule. The political and permanent effects of the spirit of +chivalry have been less observed. Perhaps the humanity which accompanies +all the operations of war, the refinements of gallantry, and the point +of honour, the three chief circumstances which distinguished modern from +ancient manners, may be ascribed in a great measure to this institution, +which has appeared whimsical to superficial observers, but by its +effects has proved of great benefit to mankind. The sentiments which +chivalry inspired had a wonderful influence on manners and conduct +during the twelfth, thirteenth, fourteenth, and fifteenth centuries. +They were so deeply rooted, that they continued to operate after the +vigour and reputation of the institution itself began to decline. Some +considerable transactions recorded in the following history resemble +the adventurous exploits of chivalry, rather than the well-regulated +operations of sound policy. Some of the most eminent personages, whose +characters will be delineated, were strongly tinctured with this +romantic spirit. Francis I. was ambitious to distinguish himself by all +the qualities of an accomplished knight, and endeavoured to imitate the +enterprising genius of chivalry in war, as well as its pomp and courtesy +during peace. The fame which the French monarch acquired by these +splendid actions, so far dazzled his more temperate rival, that he +departed on some occasions from his usual prudence and moderation, and +emulated Francis in deeds of prowess or of gallantry. + +The progress of science and the cultivation of literature had +considerable effect in changing the manners of the European nations, +and introducing that civility and refinement by which they are now +distinguished. At the time when their empire was overturned, the +Romans, though they had lost that correct taste which has rendered the +productions of their ancestors standards of excellence, and models of +imitation for succeeding ages, still preserved their love of letters, +and cultivated the arts with great ardour. But rude barbarians were +so far from being struck with any admiration of these unknown +accomplishments, that they despised them. They were not arrived at that +state of society, when those faculties of the human mind which have +beauty and elegance for their objects begin to unfold themselves. They +were strangers to most of those wants and desires which are the parents +of ingenious invention; and as they did not comprehend either the merit +or utility of the Roman arts, they destroyed the monuments of them, with +an industry not inferior to that with which their posterity have since +studied to preserve or to recover them. The convulsions occasioned by +the settlement of so many unpolished tribes in the empire; the frequent +as well as violent revolutions in every kingdom which they established; +together with the interior defects in the form of government which they +introduced, banished security and leisure. They prevented the growth +of taste, or the culture of science, and kept Europe, during several +centuries, in that state of ignorance which has been already described. +But the events and institutions which I have enumerated produced great +alterations in society. As soon as their operation, in restoring liberty +and independence to one part of the community, began to be felt; as soon +as they began to communicate to all the members of society some taste +of the advantages arising from commerce, from public order, and from +personal security, the human mind became conscious of powers which it +did not formerly perceive, and fond of occupations or pursuits of which +it was formerly incapable. Towards the beginning of the twelfth century, +we discern the first symptoms of its awakening from that lethargy in +which it had been long sunk, and observe it turning with curiosity and +attention towards new objects. + + ROBERTSON. + + +[Notes: _Francis I_. (1494-1547). King of France; the contemporary of +Henry VIII. and of Charles V., Emperor of the Holy Roman Empire. The +constant rivalry and ever recurring wars between Francis and the latter, +occupy a great part of European history during the first half of the +16th century. + + +_His more temperate rival, i.e.,_ Charles V. + + +_At the time when their empire was overturned, the_ _Romans, &c._ In 410 +A.D., by the incursions of the Goths.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + + THE PASSIONS. + + (AN ODE FOR MUSIC.) + + + When Music, heavenly maid, was young, + While yet in early Greece she sung, + The Passions oft, to hear her shell, + Thronged around her magic cell, + Exulting, trembling, raging, fainting, + Possessed beyond the Muse's painting: + By turns they felt the glowing mind + Disturbed, delighted, raised, refined,-- + Till once, 'tis said, when all were fired, + Filled with fury, rapt, inspired, + From the supporting myrtles round + They snatched her instruments of sound; + And, as they oft had heard, apart, + Sweet lessons of her forceful art, + Each, for Madness ruled the hour, + Would prove his own expressive power. + + First Fear his hand, its skill to try, + Amid the chords bewildered laid, + And back recoiled, he knew not why, + E'en at the sound himself had made. + + Next Anger rushed: his eyes on fire, + In lightnings owned his secret stings; + In one rude clash he struck the lyre, + And swept with hurried hand the strings. + + With woful measures, wan Despair-- + Low sullen sounds his grief beguiled: + A solemn, strange, and mingled air, + 'Twas sad by fits, by starts 'twas wild. + + But thou, O Hope, with eyes so fair, + What was thy delighted measure? + Still it whispered promised pleasure, + And bade the lovely scenes at distance hail; + Still would her touch the scene prolong; + And from the rocks, the woods, the vale, + She called on Echo still through all the song; + And, where her sweetest theme she chose, + A soft responsive voice was heard at every close; + And hope, enchanted, smiled, and waved her golden + hair;-- + + And longer had she sung:--but, with a frown, + Revenge impatient rose: + He threw his blood-stained sword in thunder down, + And, with a withering look, + The war-denouncing trumpet took, + And blew a blast so loud and dread, + Were ne'er prophetic sounds so full of woe! + And ever and anon he beat + The doubling drum with furious heat: + + And though sometimes, each dreary pause between, + Dejected Pity at his side, + Her soul-subduing voice applied, + Yet still he kept his wild unaltered mien, + While each strained ball of sight seemed bursting from + his head. + + Thy numbers, Jealousy, to nought were fixed; + Sad proof of thy distressful state! + Of differing themes the veering song was mixed; + And now it courted Love, now raving called on Hate. + + With eyes upraised, as one inspired, + Pale Melancholy sat retired; + And from her wild sequestered seat, + In notes by distance made more sweet, + Poured through the mellow horn her pensive soul; + And dashing soft from rocks around, + Bubbling runnels joined the sound: + Through glades and glooms the mingled measure stole, + Or, o'er some haunted stream, with fond delay, + Round a holy calm diffusing, + Love of peace and lonely musing,-- + In hollow murmurs died away. + + But oh, how altered was its sprightlier tone! + When Cheerfulness, a nymph of healthiest hue, + Her bow across her shoulder flung, + Her buskins gemmed with morning dew, + Blew an inspiring air, that dale and thicket rung, + The hunter's call to Faun and Dryad known! + The oak-crowned Sisters and their chaste-eyed Queen, + Satyrs and Sylvan boys, were seen + Peeping from forth their alleys green. + Brown Exercise rejoiced to hear, + And Sport leaped up, and seized his beechen spear. + + Last came Joy's ecstatic trial; + He, with viny crown advancing, + First to the lively pipe his hand addressed; + But soon he saw the brisk awakening viol + Whose sweet entrancing voice he loved the best: + They would have thought, who heard the strain, + They saw in Tempe's vale her native maids, + Amidst the festal-sounding shades, + To some unwearied minstrel dancing; + While, as his flying fingers kissed the strings, + Love framed with Mirth a gay fantastic round; + Loose were her tresses seen, her zone unbound; + And he, amidst his frolic play, + As if he would the charming air repay, + Shook thousand odours from his dewy wings. + + O Music! sphere-descended maid, + Friend of Pleasure, Wisdom's aid! + Why, goddess, why, to us denied, + Lay'st thou thy ancient lyre aside? + As in that loved, Athenian bower + You learned an all-commanding power. + Thy mimic soul; O nymph endeared! + Can well recall what then it heard. + Where is thy native simple heart + Devote to Virtue, Fancy, Art? + Arise, as in that elder time, + Warm, energetic, chaste, sublime! + Thy wonders in that god-like age, + Fill thy recording Sister's page;-- + 'Tis said, and I believe the tale, + Thy humblest reed could more prevail, + Had more of strength, diviner rage, + Than all which charms this laggard age, + E'en all at once together found + Cecilia's mingled world of sound;-- + O bid our vain endeavours cease: + Revive the just designs of Greece: + Return in all thy simple state! + Confirm the tales her sons relate! + + COLLINS. + + + +[Notes: _William Collins_ (1720-1756). A poet, who throughout life +struggled with adversity, and who, though he produced little, refined +everything he wrote with a most fastidious taste and with elaborate +care. + + + _Shell_, according to a fashion common with the poets of the +first half of the 18th century, stands for lyre. The Latin word +_testudo_, a shell is often so used. + + +_Possessed beyond the Muse's painting_ = enthralled beyond what poetry +can describe. + + +_His own expressive power, i.e.,_ his power to express his own feelings. + + +_In lightnings owned his secret stings_ = in lightning-like touches +confessed the hidden fury which inspired him. + + +_Veering song_. The ever-changeful song. + + +_Her wild sequestered seat_. Sequestered properly is used of something +which, being in dispute, is deposited in a third person's hands: hence +of something set apart or in retirement. + + +_Round a holy calm diffusing_ = diffusing around a holy calm. + + +_Buskin_. A boot reaching above the ankle. _Gemmed_ = sparkling as with +gems. + + +Faun and Dryad_. Creatures with whom ancient mythology peopled the +woods. + + +_Their chaste-eyed Queen_ = Diana. + + +_Brown exercise_. Exercise is here personified and represented as brown +and sunburnt. + + +_Viol_. A stringed musical instrument. + + +_In Tempe's vale_. In Thessaly, especially connected with the worship of +Apollo, the god of poetry and music. + + +_Sphere-descended maid_. A metaphor common with the poets, and taken +from a Greek fancy most elaborately described in Plato's 'Republic,' +where the system of the universe is pictured as a series of whorls +linked in harmony. + + +_Thy mimic soul_. Thy soul apt to imitate. + + +_Devote_ = devoted. A form more close to that of the Latin participle, +from which it is derived. + + +_Thy recording Sister_ = the Muse of History. + + +_Cecilia's mingled world of sound_ = the organ. So St. Cecilia is called +in Dryden's Ode, "Inventress of the vocal frame." + + +_The just designs_ = the well-conceived, artistic designs.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +"A WHALE HUNT." + + +A tide of unusual height had carried the whale over a large bar of sand, +into the voe or creek in which he was now lying. So soon as he found the +water ebbing, he became sensible of his danger, and had made desperate +efforts to get over the shallow water, where the waves broke on the bar +but hitherto he had rather injured than mended his condition, having got +himself partly aground, and lying therefore particularly exposed to the +meditated attack. At this moment the enemy came down upon him. The front +ranks consisted of the young and hardy, armed in the miscellaneous +manner we have described; while, to witness and animate their efforts, +the young women, and the elderly persons of both sexes, took their place +among the rocks, which overhung the scene of action. + +As the boats had to double a little headland, ere they opened the mouth +of the voe, those who came by land to the shores of the inlet had time +to make the necessary reconnaissances upon the force and situation of +the enemy, on whom they were about to commence a simultaneous attack by +land and sea. + +This duty, the stout-hearted and experienced general--for so the Udaller +might be termed--would entrust to no eyes but his own; and, indeed, his +external appearance, and his sage conduct, rendered him alike qualified +for the command which he enjoyed. His gold-laced hat was exchanged for a +bearskin cap, his suit of blue broadcloth, with its scarlet lining, and +loops, and frogs of bullion, had given place to a red flannel jacket, +with buttons of black horn, over which he wore a seal-skin shirt +curiously seamed and plaited on the bosom, such as are used by the +Esquimaux, and sometimes by the Greenland whale-fishers. Sea-boots of +a formidable size completed his dress, and in his hand he held a large +whaling-knife, which he brandished, as if impatient to employ it in the +operation of _flinching_ the huge animal which lay before them,--that +is, the act of separating its flesh from its bones. Upon closer +examination, however, he was obliged to confess that the sport to which +he had conducted his friends, however much it corresponded with the +magnificent scale of his hospitality, was likely to be attended with its +own peculiar dangers and difficulties. + +The animal, upwards of sixty feet in length, was lying perfectly still, +in a deep part of the voe into which it had weltered, and where it +seemed to await the return of tide, of which it was probably assured by +instinct. A council of experienced harpooners was instantly called, and +it was agreed that an effort should be made to noose the tail of this +torpid leviathan, by casting a cable around it, to be made fast by +anchors to the shore, and thus to secure against his escape, in case the +tide should make before they were able to dispatch him. Three boats were +destined to this delicate piece of service, one of which the Udaller +himself proposed to command, while Cleveland and Mertoun were to direct +the two others. This being decided, they sat down on the strand, waiting +with impatience until the naval part of the force should arrive in the +voe. It was during this interval, that Triptolemus Yellowley, after +measuring with his eyes the extraordinary size of the whale, observed, +that in his poor mind, "A wain[1] with six owsen,[2] or with sixty owsen +either, if they were the owsen of the country, could not drag siccan[3] +a huge creature from the water, where it was now lying, to the +sea-beach." + +Trifling as this remark may seem to the reader, it was connected with a +subject which always fired the blood of the old Udaller, who, glancing +upon Triptolemus a quick and stern look, asked him what it signified, +supposing a hundred oxen could not drag the whale upon the beach? Mr. +Yellowley, though not much liking the tone with which the question was +put, felt that his dignity and his profit compelled him to answer as +follows:--"Nay, sir; you know yourself, Master Magnus Troil, and every +one knows that knows anything, that whales of siccan size as may not be +masterfully dragged on shore by the instrumentality of one wain with six +owsen, are the right and property of the Admiral, who is at this time +the same noble lord who is, moreover, Chamberlain of these isles." + +"And I tell you, Mr. Triptolemus Yellowley," said the Udaller, "as I +would tell your master if he were here, that every man who risks his +life to bring that fish ashore, shall have an equal and partition, +according to our ancient and lovable Norse custom and wont; nay, if +there is so much as a woman looking on, that will but touch the cable, +she will be partner with us. All shall share that lend a hand, and never +a one else. So you, Master Factor, shall be busy as well as other folk, +and think yourself lucky to share like other folk. Jump into that boat" +(for the boats had by this time pulled round the headland), "and you, my +lads, make way for the factor in the stern-sheets--he shall be the first +man this day that shall strike the fish." + +The three boats destined for this perilous service now approached the +dark mass, which lay like an islet in the deepest part of the voe, +and suffered them to approach without showing any sign of animation. +Silently, and with such precaution as the extreme delicacy of the +operation required, the intrepid adventurers, after the failure of their +first attempt, and the expenditure of considerable time, succeeded in +casting a cable around the body of the torpid monster, and in carrying +the ends of it ashore, when a hundred hands were instantly employed in +securing them. But ere this was accomplished, the tide began to make +fast, and the Udaller informed his assistants that either the fish must +be killed or at least greatly wounded ere the depth of water on the bar +was sufficient to float him; or that he was not unlikely to escape from +their joint prowess. + +"Wherefore," said he, "we must set to work, and the factor shall have +the honour to make the first throw." + +The valiant Triptolemus caught the word; and it is necessary to say that +the patience of the whale, in suffering himself to be noosed without +resistance, had abated his terrors, and very much lowered the creature +in his opinion. He protested the fish had no more wit, and scarcely more +activity, than a black snail; and, influenced by this undue contempt +of the adversary, he waited neither for a farther signal, nor a better +weapon, nor a more suitable position, but, rising in his energy, hurled +his graip with all his force against the unfortunate monster. The boats +had not yet retreated from him to the distance necessary to ensure +safety, when this injudicious commencement of the war took place. + +Magnus Troil, who had only jested with the factor, and had reserved the +launching the first spear against the whale to some much more skilful +hand, had just time to exclaim, "Mind yourselves, lads, or we are all +stamped!" when the monster, roused at once from inactivity by the blow +of the factor's missile, blew, with a noise resembling the explosion of +a steam-engine, a huge shower of water into the air, and at the same +time began to lash the waves with its tail in every direction. The boat +in which Magnus presided received the shower of brine which the animal +spouted aloft; and the adventurous Triptolemus, who had a full share of +the immersion, was so much astonished and terrified by the consequences +of his own valorous deed, that he tumbled backwards amongst the feet of +the people, who, too busy to attend to him, were actively engaged in +getting the boat into shoal water, out of the whale's reach. Here he lay +for some minutes, trampled on by the feet of the boatmen, until they lay +on their oars to bale, when the Udaller ordered them to pull to +shore, and land this spare hand, who had commenced the fishing so +inauspiciously. + +While this was doing, the other boats had also pulled off to safer +distance, and now, from these as well as from the shore, the unfortunate +native of the deep was overwhelmed by all kinds of missiles--harpoons +and spears flew against him on all sides--guns were fired, and each +various means of annoyance plied which could excite him to exhaust his +strength in useless rage. When the animal found that he was locked in +by shallows on all sides, and became sensible, at the same time, of the +strain of the cable on his body, the convulsive efforts which he made to +escape, accompanied with sounds resembling deep and loud groans, would +have moved the compassion of all but a practised whale-fisher. The +repeated showers which he spouted into the air began now to be mingled +with blood, and the waves which surrounded him assumed the same crimson +appearance. Meantime the attempts of the assailants were redoubled; but +Mordaunt Mertoun and Cleveland, in particular, exerted themselves to the +uttermost, contending who should display most courage in approaching the +monster, so tremendous in its agonies, and should inflict the most deep +and deadly wounds upon its huge bulk. + +The contest seemed at last pretty well over; for although the animal +continued from time to time to make frantic exertions for liberty, yet +its strength appeared so much exhausted, that, even with the assistance +of the tide, which had now risen considerably, it was thought it could +scarcely extricate itself. + +Magnus gave the signal to venture nearer to the whale, calling out at +the same time, "Close in, lads, she is not half so mad now--the Factor +may look for a winter's oil for the two lamps at Harfra--pull close in, +lads." + +Ere his orders could be obeyed, the other two boats had anticipated +his purpose; and Mordaunt Mertoun, eager to distinguish himself above +Cleveland, had with the whole strength he possessed, plunged a half-pike +into the body of the animal. But the leviathan, like a nation whose +resources appear totally exhausted by previous losses and calamities, +collected his whole remaining force for an effort, which proved at once +desperate and successful. The wound, last received had probably reached +through his external defences of blubber, and attained some very +sensitive part of the system; for he roared loud, as he sent to the sky +a mingled sheet of brine and blood, and snapping the strong cable like a +twig, overset Mertoun's boat with a blow of his tail, shot himself, by +a mighty effort, over the bar, upon which the tide had now risen +considerably, and made out to sea, carrying with him a whole grove of +the implements which had been planted in his body, and leaving behind +him, on the waters, a dark red trace of his course. + + SCOTT. + + + +[Notes: [1] Waggon. + + +[2] Oxen. + + +[3] Such.] + + + + + + * * * * * + + + + + VISION OF BELSHAZZAR. + + + The King was on his throne. + The Satraps throng'd the hall: + A thousand bright lamps shone + O'er that high festival. + A thousand cups of gold, + In Judah deem'd divine-- + Jehovah's vessels hold + The godless heathen's wine! + + In that same hour and hall, + The fingers of a hand + Came forth against the wall. + And wrote as if on sand: + The fingers of a man;-- + A solitary hand + Along the letters ran, + And traced them like a wand. + + The monarch saw, and shook, + And bade no more rejoice; + All bloodless wax'd his look, + And tremulous his voice. + "Let the men of lore appear, + The wisest of the earth, + And expound the words of fear, + Which mar our royal mirth." + + Chaldea's seers are good, + But here they have no skill; + And the unknown letters stood + Untold and awful still. + And Babel's men of age + Are wise and deep in lore; + But now they were not sage, + They saw--but knew no more. + + A captive in the land, + A stranger and a youth, + He heard the king's command, + He saw that writing's truth. + The lamps around were bright, + The prophecy in view; + He read it on that night,-- + The morrow proved it true. + + "Belshazzar's grave is made, + His kingdom pass'd away, + He, in the balance weigh'd, + Is light and worthless clay; + The shroud his robe of state, + His canopy the stone; + The Mede is at his gate! + The Persian on his throne!" + + BYRON. + + + +[Notes: _Belshazzar_, the last king of Babylon, lived probably in the +6th century B.C. He was defeated by the Medes and Persians combined. + + +_Satraps_. The governors or magistrates of provinces. + + +_A thousand cups of gold_, &c. Taken in the captivity of Judah. + + +_A captive in the land_ = the Prophet Daniel.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + + YE MARINERS OF ENGLAND. + + + Ye mariners of England, + That guard our native seas, + Whose flag has braved a thousand years + The battle and the breeze! + Your glorious standard launch again, + To match another foe! + And sweep through the deep, + While the stormy winds do blow; + And the battle rages loud and long, + And the stormy winds do blow. + + The spirit of your fathers + Shall start from every wave!-- + For the deck it was their field of fame, + And ocean was their grave; + Where Blake and mighty Nelson fell, + Your manly hearts shall glow, + + As ye sweep through the deep + While the stormy winds do blow; + While the battle rages loud and long, + And the stormy winds do blow. + + Britannia needs no bulwarks, + No towers along the steep; + Her march is o'er the mountain-waves, + Her home is on the deep. + With thunders from her native oak, + She quells the floods below, + As they roar on the shore, + When the stormy winds do blow. + While the battle rages loud and long, + And the stormy winds do blow. + + The meteor flag of England + Shall yet terrific burn; + Till danger's troubled night depart, + And the star of peace return. + Then, then, ye ocean warriors! + Your song and feast shall flow + To the fame of your name, + When the storm has ceased to blow; + When the fiery fight is heard no more, + And the storm has ceased to blow. + + CAMPBELL. + + +[Notes: _Blake_. Robert Blake (1598-1657), an English admiral under +Cromwell, chiefly distinguished for his victories over the Dutch.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +A SHIPWRECK. + + +One morning I can remember well, how we watched from the Hartland Cliffs +a great barque, which came drifting and rolling in before the western +gale, while we followed her up the coast, parsons and sportsmen, farmers +and Preventive men, with the Manby's mortar lumbering behind us in a +cart, through stone gaps and track-ways, from headland to headland. The +maddening excitement of expectation as she ran wildly towards the cliffs +at our feet, and then sheered off again inexplicably;--her foremast and +bowsprit, I recollect, were gone short off by the deck; a few rags of +sail fluttered from her main and mizen. But with all straining of eyes +and glasses, we could discern no sign of man on board. Well I recollect +the mingled disappointment and admiration of the Preventive men, as a +fresh set of salvors appeared in view, in the form of a boat's crew of +Clovelly fishermen; how we watched breathlessly the little black speck +crawling and struggling up in the teeth of the gale, under the shelter +of the land, till, when the ship had rounded a point into smoother +water, she seized on her like some tiny spider on a huge unwieldy +fly; and then how one still smaller black speck showed aloft on the +main-yard, and another--and then the desperate efforts to get the +topsail set--and how we saw it tear out of their hands again, and again, +and again, and almost fancied we could hear the thunder of its flappings +above the roar of the gale, and the mountains of surf which made the +rocks ring beneath our feet;--and how we stood silent, shuddering, +expecting every moment to see whirled into the sea from the plunging +yards one of those same tiny black specks, in each one of which was a +living human soul, with sad women praying for him at home! And then how +they tried to get her head round to the wind, and disappeared instantly +in a cloud of white spray--and let her head fall back again--and jammed +it round again, and disappeared again--and at last let her drive +helplessly up the bay, while we kept pace with her along the cliffs; and +how at last, when she had been mastered and fairly taken in tow, and was +within two miles of the pier, and all hearts were merry with the +hopes of a prize which would make them rich, perhaps, for years to +come--one-third, I suppose, of the whole value of her cargo--how she +broke loose from them at the last moment, and rushed frantically in upon +those huge rocks below us, leaping great banks of slate at the blow of +each breaker, tearing off masses of ironstone which lie there to this +day to tell the tale, till she drove up high and dry against the cliff, +and lay, like an enormous stranded whale, grinding and crashing herself +to pieces against the walls of her adamantine cage. And well I recollect +the sad records of the log-book which was left on board the deserted +ship; how she had been waterlogged for weeks and weeks, buoyed up by her +timber cargo, the crew clinging in the tops, and crawling down, when +they dared, for putrid biscuit-dust and drops of water, till the water +was washed overboard and gone; and then notice after notice, "On this +day such an one died," "On this day such an one was washed away"--the +log kept up to the last, even when there was only that to tell, by the +stern business-like merchant skipper, whoever he was; and how at last, +when there was neither food nor water, the strong man's heart seemed +to have quailed, or perhaps risen, into a prayer, jotted down in the +log--"The Lord have mercy on us!"--and then a blank of several pages, +and, scribbled with a famine-shaken hand, "Remember thy Creator in the +days of thy youth;"--and so the log and the ship were left to the rats, +which covered the deck when our men boarded her. And well I remember +the last act of that tragedy; for a ship has really, as sailors feel, +a personality, almost a life and soul of her own; and as long as her +timbers hold together, all is not over. You can hardly call her a +corpse, though the human beings who inhabited her, and were her soul, +may have fled into the far eternities; and so we felt that night, as we +came down along the woodland road, with the north-west wind hurling dead +branches and showers of crisp oak-leaves about our heads; till suddenly, +as we staggered out of the wood, we came upon such a picture as it would +have baffled Correggio, or Rembrandt himself, to imitate. Under a +wall was a long tent of sails and spars, filled with Preventive men, +fishermen, Lloyd's underwriters, lying about in every variety of strange +attitude and costume; while candles, stuck in bayonet-handles in the +wall, poured out a wild glare over shaggy faces and glittering weapons, +and piles of timber, and rusty iron cable, that glowed red-hot in the +light, and then streamed up the glen towards us through the salt misty +air in long fans of light, sending fiery bars over the brown transparent +oak foliage and the sad beds of withered autumn flowers, and glorifying +the wild flakes of foam, as they rushed across the light-stream, into +troops of tiny silver angels, that vanished into the night and hid +themselves among the woods from the fierce spirit of the storm. And +then, just where the glare of the lights and watch-fires was most +brilliant, there too the black shadows of the cliff had placed the point +of intensest darkness, lightening gradually upwards right and left, +between the two great jaws of the glen, into a chaos of grey mist, where +the eye could discern no form of sea or cloud, but a perpetual shifting +and quivering as if the whole atmosphere was writhing with agony in the +clutches of the wind. + +The ship was breaking up; and we sat by her like hopeless physicians by +a deathbed-side, to watch the last struggle,--and "the effects of the +deceased." I recollect our literally warping ourselves down to the +beach, holding on by rocks and posts. There was a saddened awe-struck +silence, even upon the gentleman from Lloyd's with the pen behind his +ear. A sudden turn of the clouds let in a wild gleam of moonshine upon +the white leaping heads of the breakers, and on the pyramid of the +Black-church Rock, which stands in summer in such calm grandeur gazing +down on the smiling bay, with the white sand of Braunton and the red +cliffs of Portledge shining through its two vast arches; and against a +slab of rock on the right, for years afterwards discoloured with her +paint, lay the ship, rising slowly on every surge, to drop again with +a piteous crash as the wave fell back from the cliff, and dragged the +roaring pebbles back with it under the coming wall of foam. You have +heard of ships at the last moment crying aloud like living things in +agony? I heard it then, as the stumps of her masts rocked and reeled in +her, and every plank and joint strained and screamed with the dreadful +tension. + +A horrible image--a human being shrieking on the rack; rose up before +me at those strange semi-human cries, and would not be put away--and I +tried to turn, and yet my eyes were riveted on the black mass, which +seemed vainly to implore the help of man against the stern ministers of +the Omnipotent. + +Still she seemed to linger in the death-struggle, and we turned at last +away; when, lo! a wave, huger than all before it, rushed up the boulders +towards us. We had just time to save ourselves. A dull, thunderous +groan, as if a mountain had collapsed, rose above the roar of the +tempest; and we all turned with an instinctive knowledge of what had +happened, just in time to see the huge mass melt away into the boiling +white, and vanish for evermore. And then the very raving of the wind +seemed hushed with awe; the very breakers plunged more silently towards +the shore, with something of a sullen compunction; and as we stood and +strained our eyes into the gloom, one black plank after another crawled +up out of the darkness upon the head of the coming surge, and threw +itself at our feet like the corpse of a drowning man, too spent to +struggle more. + + CHARLES KINGSLEY. + + + + + * * * * * + + + + + A SHIPWRECK. + + + Then rose from sea to sky the wild farewell,-- + Then shrieked the timid, and stood still the brave,-- + Then some leaped overboard with dreadful yell, + As eager to anticipate their grave; + And the sea yawned around her like a hell, + And down she sucked with her the whirling wave, + Like one who grapples with his enemy, + And strives to strangle him before he die. + + And first one universal shriek there rushed, + Louder than the loud ocean, like a crash + Of echoing thunder; and then all was hushed, + Save the wild wind and the remorseless dash + Of billows; but at intervals there gushed, + Accompanied with a convulsive splash, + A solitary shriek, the bubbling cry + Of some strong swimmer in his agony. + + BYRON. + + + + + * * * * * + + + + + THE HAPPY WARRIOR. + + + Who is the happy Warrior? Who is he + That every man in arms should wish to be? + --It is the generous Spirit, who when brought + Among the tasks of real life, hath wrought + Upon the plan that pleased his boyish thought: + Whose high endeavours are an inward light + That makes the path before him always bright: + Who, with a natural instinct to discern + What knowledge can perform, is diligent to learn: + Abides by this resolve, and stops not there, + But makes his moral being his prime care; + Who, doomed to go in company with Pain, + And Fear, and Bloodshed, miserable train! + Turns his necessity to glorious gain; + In face of these doth exercise a power + Which is our human nature's highest dower; + Controls them and subdues, transmutes, bereaves + Of their bad influence, and their good receives: + By objects, which might force the soul to abate + Her feeling, rendered more compassionate; + Is placable--because occasions rise + So often that demand such sacrifice; + More skilful in self knowledge, even more pure, + As tempted more; more able to endure, + As more exposed to suffering and distress; + Thence, also, more alive to tenderness. + --Tis he whose law is reason; who depends + Upon that law as on the best of friends; + Whence, in a state where men are tempted still + To evil for a guard against worse ill, + And what in quality or act is best + Doth seldom on a right foundation rest, + He labours good on good to fix, and owes + To virtue every triumph that he knows: + --Who, if he rise to station of command, + Rises by open means; and there will stand + On honourable terms, or else retire, + And in himself possess his own desire; + Who comprehends his trust, and to the same + Keeps faithful with a singleness of aim; + And therefore does not stoop, nor lie in wait + For wealth, or honours, or for worldly state: + Whom they must follow; on whose head must fall, + Like showers of manna, if they come at all; + Whose powers shed round him in the common strife, + Or mild concerns of ordinary life, + A constant influence, a peculiar grace; + But who, if he be called upon to face + Some awful moment to which Heaven has joined + Great issues, good or bad for human kind, + Is happy as a Lover; and attired + With sudden brightness, like a Man inspired; + And, through the heat of conflict, keeps the law + In calmness made, and sees what he foresaw: + Or if an unexpected call succeed, + Come when it will, is equal to the need: + --He who, though thus endued as with a sense + And faculty for storm and turbulence, + Is yet a Soul whose master-bias leans + To homefelt pleasures and to gentle scenes; + Sweet images! which, wheresoe'er he be, + Are at his heart; and such fidelity + It is his darling passion to approve; + More brave for this, that he hath much to love:-- + 'Tis, finally, the Man, who, lifted, high, + Conspicuous object in a Nation's eye, + Or left unthought of in obscurity,-- + Who, with a toward or untoward lot, + Prosperous or adverse, to his wish or not-- + Plays, in the many games of life, that one + Where what he most doth value must be won: + Whom neither shape of danger can dismay, + Nor thought of tender happiness betray; + Who not content that former worth stand fast, + Looks forward, persevering to the last, + From well to better, daily self-surpassed: + Who, whether praise of him must walk the earth + For ever, and to noble deeds give birth, + Or he must fall, to sleep without his fame, + And leave a dead unprofitable name-- + Finds comfort in himself and in his cause; + And, while the mortal mist is gathering, draws + His breath in confidence of Heaven's applause: + This is the happy Warrior; this is he + That every Man in arms should wish to be. + + Wordsworth. + + + +[Notes: _Turns his necessity to glorious gain_. Turns the necessity +which lies on him of fellowship with pain, and fear, and bloodshed, into +glorious gain. + + +_More skilful in self knowledge, even more pure, as tempted more_. +"His self-knowledge and his purity are all the greater because of the +temptations he has had to withstand." + + +_Whose law is reason_ = whose every action is obedient to reason. + + +_In himself possess his own desire_. According to Aristotle, virtuous +activity is the highest reward the good man can attain; virtue has no +end beyond action; according to the modern proverb, "Virtue is its own +reward." + + +_More brave for this, that he hath much to love_. Here also Wordsworth +follows Aristotle in his description of the virtue of manliness. The +good man, according to Aristotle, is most brave of all in encountering +"the awful moment of great issues," in that he has the most to lose by +death. + + +_Not content that former worth stand fast_. Not content to rest on the +foundation of accomplished good and worthy deeds, solid though it be. + + +_Finds comfort in himself_. Compare: "In himself possess his own +desire."] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +THE BLACK PRINCE. + +He was the first great English captain, who showed what English soldiers +were, and what they could do against Frenchmen, and against all the +world. He was the first English Prince who showed what it was to be a +true gentleman. He was the first, but he was not the last. We have seen +how, when he died, Englishmen thought that all their hopes had died with +him. But we know that it was not so; we know that the life of a great +nation is not bound up in the life of a single man; we know that the +valour and the courtesy and the chivalry of England are not buried in +the grave of the Plantagenet Prince. It needs only a glance round the +country, to see that the high character of an English gentleman, of +which the Black Prince was the noble pattern, is still to be found +everywhere; and has since his time been spreading itself more and more +through classes, which in his time seemed incapable of reaching it. It +needs only a glance down the names of our own Cathedral (of Canterbury); +and the tablets on the walls, with their tattered flags, will tell you +in a moment that he, as he lies up there aloft, with his head resting on +his helmet, and his spurs on his feet, is but the first of a long +line of English heroes--that the brave men who fought at Sobraon and +Feroozeshah are the true descendants of those who fought at Cressy and +Poitiers. + +And not to soldiers only, but to all who are engaged in the long warfare +of life, is his conduct an example. To unite in our lives the two +qualities expressed in his motto, "High spirit" and "reverent service," +is to be, indeed, not only a true gentleman and a true soldier, but a +true Christian also. To show to all who differ from us, not only in war +but in peace, that delicate forbearance, that fear of hurting another's +feelings, that happy art of saying the right thing to the right person, +which he showed to the captive king, would indeed add a grace and a +charm to the whole course of this troublesome world, such as none can +afford to lose, whether high or low. Happy are they, who having this +gift by birth and station, use it for its highest purposes; still more +happy are they, who having it not by birth and station, have acquired +it, as it may be acquired, by Christian gentleness and Christian +charity. + +And, lastly, to act in all the various difficulties of our every-day +life, with that coolness, and calmness, and faith in a higher power than +his own, which he showed when the appalling danger of his situation +burst upon him at Poitiers, would smooth a hundred difficulties, and +ensure a hundred victories. We often think that we have no power in +ourselves, no advantages of position, to help us against our many +temptations, to overcome the many obstacles we encounter. Let us take +our stand by the Black Prince's tomb, and go back once more in thought +to the distant fields of France. A slight rise in the wild upland plain, +a steep lane through vineyards and underwood, this was all that he had, +humanly speaking, on his side; but he turned it to the utmost use of +which it could be made, and won the most glorious of battles. So, in +like manner, our advantages may be slight--hardly perceptible to any +but ourselves--let us turn them to account, and the results will be a +hundredfold; we have only to adopt the Black Prince's bold and cheering +words, when first he saw his enemies, "God is my help. I must fight them +as best I can;" adding that lofty, yet resigned and humble prayer, which +he uttered when the battle was announced to be inevitable, and which has +since become a proverb, "God defend the right." + + DEAN STANLEY'S _Memorials of Canterbury_. + + + +[Notes: _The Black Prince_. Edward, the son of Edward III, and father of +Richard II. He not only won for the English the renown of conquest, but +befriended the early efforts after liberty. His untimely death plunged +England into the evils of a long minority under his son. The one stain +on his name is his massacre of the townsfolk of Limoges. + + +"_Reverent service_," or "I serve" (Ich dien), the motto adopted by the +Black Prince from the King of Bohemia, his defeated foe. + + +_Poitiers_. His victory won over the French king, John, whom he took +prisoner (1356).] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +THE ASSEMBLY OF URI. + + +Let me ask you to follow me in spirit to the very home and birth-place +of freedom, to the land where we need not myth or fable to add aught to +the fresh and gladdening feeling with which we for the first time tread +the soil and drink the air of the immemorial democracy of Uri. It is one +of the opening days of May: it is the morning of Sunday; for men then +deem that the better the day the better the deed; they deem that the +Creator cannot be more truly honoured than in using, in His fear and in +His presence, the highest of the gifts which He has bestowed on man. But +deem not that, because the day of Christian worship is chosen for the +great yearly assembly of a Christian commonwealth, the more direct +sacred duties of the day are forgotten. Before we, in our luxurious +island, have lifted ourselves from our beds, the men of the mountains, +Catholic and Protestant alike, have already paid the morning's worship +in God's temple. They have heard the mass of the priest, or they have +listened to the sermon of the pastor, before some of us have awakened +to the fact that the morn of the holy day has come. And when I saw men +thronging the crowded church, or kneeling, for want of space within, +on the bare ground beside the open door, and when I saw them marching +thence to do the highest duties of men and citizens, I could hardly +forbear thinking of the saying of Holy Writ, that "Where the Spirit of +the Lord is, there is liberty." From the market-place of Altdorf, the +little capital of the Canton, the procession makes its way to the place +of meeting at Bozlingen. First marches the little army of the Canton, an +army whose weapons can never be used save to drive back an invader from +their land. Over their heads floats the banner, the bull's head of +Uri, the ensign which led men to victory on the fields of Sempach and +Morgarten. And before them all, on the shoulders of men clad in a garb +of ages past, are borne the famous horns, the spoils of the wild bull +of ancient days, the very horns whose blast struck such dread into the +fearless heart of Charles of Burgundy. Then, with their lictors before +them, come the magistrates of the commonwealth on horseback, the chief +magistrate, the Landammann, with his sword by his side. The people +follow the chiefs whom they have chosen to the place of meeting, a +circle in a green meadow with a pine forest rising above their heads and +a mighty spur of the mountain range facing them on the other side of the +valley. The multitude of the freemen take their seats around the chief +ruler of the commonwealth, whose term of office comes that day to an +end. The Assembly opens; a short space is first given to prayer, silent +prayer offered up by each man in the temple of God's own rearing. Then +comes the business of the day. If changes in the law are demanded, they +are then laid before the vote of the Assembly, in which each citizen +of full age has an equal vote and an equal right of speech. The yearly +magistrates have now discharged all their duties; their term of office +is at an end, the trust which has been placed in their hands falls back +into the hands of those by whom it was given, into the hands of the +sovereign people. The chief of the commonwealth, now such no longer, +leaves his seat of office, and takes his place as a simple citizen in +the ranks of his fellows. It rests with the freewill of the Assembly to +call him back to his chair of office, or to set another there in his +stead. Men who have neither looked into the history of the past, nor yet +troubled themselves to learn what happens year by year in their own +age, are fond of declaiming against the caprice and ingratitude of the +people, and of telling us that under a democratic government neither men +nor measures can remain for an hour unchanged. The witness alike of the +present and of the past is an answer to baseless theories like these. +The spirit which made democratic Athens year by year bestow her highest +offices on the patrician Perikles and the reactionary Phokion, still +lives in the democracies of Switzerland. The ministers of kings, whether +despotic or constitutional, may vainly envy the sure tenure of office +which falls to the lot of those who are chosen to rule by the voice of +the people. Alike in the whole Confederation and in the single Canton, +re-election is the rule; the rejection of the outgoing magistrate is the +rare exception. The Landammann of Uri, whom his countrymen have +raised to the seat of honour, and who has done nothing to lose their +confidence, need not fear that when he has gone to the place of +meeting in the pomp of office, his place in the march homeward will be +transferred to another against his will. + + E. A. FREEMAN. + + + +[Notes: _Uri._ A Swiss canton which, early in the 14th century, united +with Unterwalden and Schwytz to form the Swiss Confederation. + + +_Sempach_ (1386) _and Morgarten_ (1315), both great victories won by the +Swiss over the Austrians. + + +----_Charles the Bold of Burgundy_ was defeated by the Swiss in 1476 at +Morat. + + +_ Perikles_. A great orator and statesman, who, in the middle of the 5th +century, B.C., guided the policy of Athens, and made her the centre of +literature, philosophy, and art. + + +_ Phokion _. An Athenian statesman of the 4th century B.C., who opposed +Demosthenes in his efforts to resist Philip of Macedon. His reactionary +policy was atoned for by the uprightness of his character.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + + LIBERTY. + + + 'Tis liberty alone that gives the flower + Of fleeting life its lustre and perfume; + And we are weeds without it. All constraint, + Except what wisdom lays on evil men, + Is evil: hurts the faculties, impedes + Their progress in the road of science: blinds + The eyesight of Discovery; and begets, + In those that suffer it, a sordid mind + Bestial, a meagre intellect, unfit + To be the tenant of man's noble form. + Thee therefore still, blameworthy as thou art, + With all thy loss of empire, and though squeez'd + By public exigence, till annual food + Fails for the craving hunger of the state, + Thee I account still happy, and the chief + Among the nations, seeing thou art free, + My native nook of earth! Thy clime is rude, + Replete with vapours, and disposes much + All hearts to sadness, and none more than mine: + Thine unadult'rate manners are less soft + And plausible than social life requires, + And thou hast need of discipline and art, + To give thee what politer France receives + From nature's bounty--that humane address + And sweetness, without which no pleasure is + In converse, either starv'd by cold reserve, + Or flush'd with fierce dispute, a senseless brawl-- + Yet being free, I love thee; for the sake + Of that one feature can be well content, + Disgrac'd as thou hast been, poor as thou art, + To seek no sublunary rest beside. + But, once enslav'd, farewell! I could endure + Chains nowhere patiently; and chains at home, + Where I am free by birthright, not at all. + Then what were left of roughness in the grain + Of British natures, wanting its excuse + That it belongs to freemen, would disgust + And shock me. I should then with double pain + Feel all the rigour of thy fickle clime; + And, if I must bewail the blessing lost, + For which our Hampdens and our Sydneys bled, + I would at least bewail it under skies + Milder, among a people less austere; + In scenes, which, having never known me free, + Would not reproach me with the loss I felt. + Do I forebode impossible events, + And tremble at vain dreams? Heaven grant I may! + But the age of virtuous politics is past, + And we are deep in that of cold pretence. + Patriots are grown too shrewd to be sincere, + And we too wise to trust them. He that takes + Deep in his soft credulity the stamp + Design'd by loud declaimers on the part + Of liberty, themselves the slaves of lust, + Incurs derision for his easy faith, + And lack of knowledge, and with cause enough: + For when was public virtue to be found, + Where private was not? Can he love the whole, + Who loves no part? He be a nation's friend, + Who is in truth the friend of no man there? + Can he be strenuous in his country's cause, + Who slights the charities, for whose dear sake + That country, if at all, must be beloved? + + Cowper. + + + +[Notes: _Hampden_--_Sydney_. (See previous note on them) + + +_He that takes deep in his soft credulity, &c., i.e.,_ he that +credulously takes in the impression which demagogues, who claim to speak +on behalf of liberty, intend that he should take. + + +_Delude_. A violent torrent, displacing earth in its course. + +_Strid_. A yawning chasm between rocks. + +_The Battle of Culloden_ (1746) closed the Jacobite rebellion of 1745 by +the defeat of the Highlanders, and with it the last hopes of the Stuart +cause. The Duke of Cumberland was the leader of the Hanoverian army.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +MY WINTER GARDEN. + +No one is less inclined to depreciate that magnificent winter-garden +at the Crystal Palace: yet let me, if I choose, prefer my own; I argue +that, in the first place, it is far larger. You may drive, I hear, +through the grand one at Chatsworth for a quarter of a mile. You may +ride through mine for fifteen miles on end. I prefer, too, to any glass +roof which Sir Joseph Paxton ever planned, that dome above my head some +three miles high, of soft dappled grey and yellow cloud, through the +vast lattice-work whereof the blue sky peeps, and sheds down tender +gleams on yellow bogs, and softly rounded heather knolls, and pale chalk +ranges gleaming far away. But, above all, I glory in my evergreens. What +winter-garden can compare for them with mine? True, I have but four +kinds--Scotch fir, holly, furze, and the heath; and by way of relief to +them, only brows of brown fern, sheets of yellow bog-grass, and here and +there a leafless birch, whose purple tresses are even more lovely to my +eye than those fragrant green ones which she puts on in spring. Well: in +painting as in music, what effects are more grand than those produced +by the scientific combination, in endless new variety, of a few simple +elements? Enough for me is the one purple birch; the bright hollies +round its stem sparkling with scarlet beads; the furze-patch, rich with +its lacework of interwoven light and shade, tipped here and there with a +golden bud; the deep soft heather carpet, which invites you to lie down +and dream for hours; and behind all, the wall of red fir-stems, and the +dark fir-roof with its jagged edges a mile long, against the soft grey +sky. + +An ugly, straight-edged, monotonous fir-plantation? Well, I like it, +outside and inside. I need no saw-edge of mountain peaks to stir up +my imagination with the sense of the sublime, while I can watch the +saw-edge of those fir peaks against the red sunset. They are my Alps; +little ones, it may be: but after all, as I asked before, what is size? +A phantom of our brain; an optical delusion. Grandeur, if you will +consider wisely, consists in form, and not in size: and to the eye of +the philosopher, the curve drawn on a paper two inches long, is just as +magnificent, just as symbolic of divine mysteries and melodies, as when +embodied in the span of some cathedral roof. Have you eyes to see? Then +lie down on the grass, and look near enough to see something more of +what is to be seen; and you will find tropic jungles in every square +foot of turf; mountain cliffs and debacles at the mouth of every rabbit +burrow: dark strids, tremendous cataracts, "deep glooms and sudden +glories," in every foot-broad rill which wanders through the turf. All +is there for you to see, if you will but rid yourself of "that idol of +space;" and Nature, as everyone will tell you who has seen dissected an +insect under the microscope, is as grand and graceful in her smallest as +in her hugest forms. + +The March breeze is chilly: but I can be always warm if I like in my +winter-garden. I turn my horse's head to the red wall of fir-stems, and +leap over the furze-grown bank into my cathedral, wherein if there be +no saints, there are likewise no priestcraft and no idols; but endless +vistas of smooth red green-veined shafts holding up the warm dark roof, +lessening away into endless gloom, paved with rich brown fir-needle--a +carpet at which Nature has been at work for forty years. Red shafts, +green roof, and here and there a pane of blue sky--neither Owen Jones +nor Willement can improve upon that ecclesiastical ornamentation,--while +for incense I have the fresh healthy turpentine fragrance, far sweeter +to my nostrils than the stifling narcotic odour which fills a Roman +Catholic cathedral. There is not a breath of air within: but the breeze +sighs over the roof above in a soft whisper. I shut my eyes and listen. +Surely that is the murmur of the summer sea upon the summer sands in +Devon far away. I hear the innumerable wavelets spend themselves gently +upon the shore, and die away to rise again. And with the innumerable +wave-sighs come innumerable memories, and faces which I shall never see +again upon this earth. I will not tell even you of that, old friend. It +has two notes, two keys rather, that Eolian-harp of fir-needles above +my head; according as the wind is east or west, the needles dry or wet. +This easterly key of to-day is shriller, more cheerful, warmer in sound, +though the day itself be colder: but grander still, as well as softer, +is the sad soughing key in which the south-west wind roars on, +rain-laden, over the forest, and calls me forth--being a minute +philosopher--to catch trout in the nearest chalk-stream. + +The breeze is gone a while; and I am in perfect silence--a silence which +may be heard. Not a sound; and not a moving object; absolutely none. The +absence of animal life is solemn, startling. That ring-dove, who was +cooing half a mile away, has hushed his moan; that flock of long-tailed +titmice, which were twinging and pecking about the fir-cones a few +minutes since, are gone: and now there is not even a gnat to quiver in +the slant sun-rays. Did a spider run over these dead leaves, I almost +fancy I could hear his footfall. The creaking of the saddle, the soft +step of the mare upon the fir-needles, jar my ears. I seem alone in a +dead world. A dead world: and yet so full of life, if I had eyes to +see! Above my head every fir-needle is breathing--breathing for +ever; currents unnumbered circulate in every bough, quickened by some +undiscovered miracle; around me every fir-stem is distilling strange +juices, which no laboratory of man can make; and where my dull eye sees +only death, the eye of God sees boundless life and motion, health and +use. + + CHARLES KINGSLEY. + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +ASPECTS OF NORTHERN AND SOUTHERN COUNTRIES. + +The charts of the world which have been drawn up by modern science have +thrown into a narrow space the expression of a vast amount of knowledge, +but I have never yet seen any pictorial enough to enable the spectator +to imagine the kind of contrast in physical character which exists +between northern and southern countries. We know the differences in +detail, but we have not that broad glance or grasp which would enable us +to feel them in their fulness. We know that gentians grow on the Alps, +and olives on the Apennines; but we do not enough conceive for ourselves +that variegated mosaic of the world's surface which a bird sees in its +migration, that difference between the district of the gentian and of +the olive which the stork and the swallow see far off, as they lean upon +the sirocco wind. Let us, for a moment, try to raise ourselves even +above the level of their flight, and imagine the Mediterranean lying +beneath us like an irregular lake, and all its ancient promontories +sleeping in the sun; here and there an angry spot of thunder, a grey +stain of storm, moving upon the burning field; and here and there a +fixed wreath of white volcano smoke, surrounded by its circle of ashes; +but for the most part a great peacefulness of light, Syria and Greece, +Italy and Spain, laid like pieces of a golden pavement into the +sea-blue, chased, as we stoop nearer to them, with bossy beaten work of +mountain chains, and glowing softly with terraced gardens, and flowers +heavy with frankincense, mixed among masses of laurel and orange, and +plumy palm, that abate with their grey-green shadows the burning of the +marble rocks, and of the ledges of the porphyry sloping under lucent +sand. Then let us pass farther towards the north, until we see the +orient colours change gradually into a vast belt of rainy green, where +the pastures of Switzerland, and poplar valleys of France, and dark +forests of the Danube and Carpathians stretch from the mouths of the +Loire to those of the Volga, seen through clefts in grey swirls of +rain-cloud and flaky veils of the mist of the brooks, spreading low +along the pasture lands; and then, farther north still, to see the earth +heave into mighty masses of leaden rock and heathy moor, bordering +with a broad waste of gloomy purple that belt of field and wood, and +splintering into irregular and grisly islands amidst the northern seas +beaten by storm, and chilled by ice-drift, and tormented by furious +pulses of contending tide, until the roots of the last forests fail from +among the hill ravines, and the hunger of the north wind bites their +peaks into barrenness; and, at last, the wall of ice, durable like iron, +sets, death-like, its white teeth against us out of the polar twilight. +And, having once traversed in thought this gradation of the zoned iris +of the earth in all its material vastness, let us go down nearer to it, +and watch the parallel change in the belt of animal life: the multitudes +of swift and brilliant creatures that glance in the air and sea, or +tread the sands of the southern zone; striped zebras and spotted +leopards, glistening serpents, and birds arrayed in purple and scarlet. +Let us contrast their delicacy and brilliancy of colour, and swiftness +of motion, with the frost-cramped strength, and shaggy covering, and +dusky plumage of the northern tribes; contrast the Arabian horse with +the Shetland, the tiger and leopard with the wolf and bear, the +antelope with the elk, the bird of Paradise with the osprey; and then, +submissively acknowledging the great laws by which the earth and all +that it bears are ruled throughout their being, let us not condemn, but +rejoice in the expression by man of his own rest in the statues of the +lands that gave him birth. Let us watch him with reverence as he sets +side by side the burning gems, and smooths with soft sculpture the +jasper pillars that are to reflect a ceaseless sunshine, and rise into +a cloudless sky; but not with less reverence let us stand by him, when, +with rough strength and hurried stroke, he smites an uncouth animation +out of the rocks which he has torn from among the moss of the moor-land, +and heaves into the darkened air the pile of iron buttress and rugged +wall, instinct with work of an imagination as wild and wayward as the +northern sea; creations of ungainly shape and rigid limb, but full of +wolfish life; fierce as the winds that beat, and changeful as the clouds +that shade them. + + JOHN RUSKIN. + + + + + * * * * * + + + + + THE TROSACHS. + + + The western waves of ebbing day + Rolled o'er the glen their level way; + Each purple peak, each flinty spire, + Was bathed in floods of living fire. + But not a setting beam could glow + Within the dark ravines below, + Where twined the path, in shadow hid, + Bound many a rocky pyramid, + Shooting abruptly from the dell + Its thunder-splintered pinnacle; + Bound many an insulated mass, + The native bulwarks of the pass, + Huge as the tower which builders vain + Presumptuous piled on Shinar's plain. + The rocky summits, split and rent, + Formed turret, dome, or battlement. + Or seemed fantastically set + With cupola or minaret, + Wild crests as pagod ever decked, + Or mosque of eastern architect. + Nor were these earth-born castles bare, + Nor lacked they many a banner fair; + For, from their shivered brows displayed, + Far o'er the unfathomable glade, + All twinkling with the dew-drop's sheen, + The briar-rose fell in streamers green, + And creeping shrubs, of thousand dyes, + Waved in the west wind's summer sighs. + + Boon nature scattered, free and wild, + Each plant or flower, the mountain's child. + Here eglantine embalmed the air, + Hawthorn and hazel mingled there; + The primrose pale and violet flower, + Found in each cliff a narrow bower; + Foxglove and nightshade, side by side, + Emblems of punishment and pride, + Grouped their dark hues with every stain, + The weather-beaten crags retain. + With boughs that quaked at every breath, + Grey birch and aspen wept beneath; + Aloft the ash and warrior oak + Cast anchor in the rifted rock; + And higher yet the pine tree hung + His shatter'd trunk, and frequent flung, + Where seemed the cliffs to meet on high, + His boughs athwart the narrowed sky + Highest of all, where white peaks glanced, + Where glistening streamers waved and danced, + The wanderer's eye could barely view + The summer heaven's delicious blue; + So wondrous wild, the whole might seem + The scenery of a fairy dream. + Onward, amid the copse 'gan peep + A narrow inlet still and deep, + Affording scarce such breadth of brim, + As served the wild duck's brood to swim; + Lost for a space, through thickets veering, + But broader when again appearing, + Tall rocks and tufted knolls their face + Could on the dark blue mirror trace; + And farther as the hunter stray'd, + Still broader sweep its channels made. + The shaggy mounds no longer stood, + Emerging from entangled wood, + But, wave-encircled, seemed to float, + Like castle girdled with its moat; + Yet broader floods extending still, + Divide them from their parent hill, + Till each, retiring, claims to be + An islet in an inland sea. + + And now, to issue from the glen, + No pathway meets the wanderer's ken, + Unless he climb, with footing nice, + A far projecting precipice. + The broom's tough roots his ladder made, + The hazel saplings lent their aid; + And thus an airy point he won. + Where, gleaming with the setting sun, + One burnish'd sheet of living gold, + Loch-Katrine lay beneath him rolled; + In all her length far winding lay, + With promontory, creek, and bay, + And islands that, empurpled bright, + Floated amid the livelier light; + And mountains, that like giants stand, + To sentinel enchanted land. + High on the south, huge Benvenue + Down to the lake in masses threw + Crags, knolls, and mounds, confusedly hurled, + The fragments of an earlier world; + A wildering forest feathered o'er + His ruined sides and summit hoar. + While on the north, through middle air, + Ben-an heaved high his forehead bare. + + SCOTT. + + + + + * * * * * + + + + + LOCHIEL'S WARNING. + + + _Seer_. Lochiel! Lochiel! beware of the day + When the Lowlands shall meet thee in battle array! + For a field of the dead rushes red on my sight, + And the clans of Culloden are scattered in fight; + They rally, they bleed, for their kingdom and crown; + Wo, wo to the riders that trample them down! + Proud Cumberland prances, insulting the slain, + And their hoof-beaten bosoms are trod to the plain. + But hark! through the fast-flashing lightning of war, + What steed to the desert flies frantic and far? + 'Tis thine, O Glenullin! whose bride shall await, + Like a love-lighted watchfire, all night at the gate. + A steed comes at morning; no rider is there; + But its bridle is red with the sign of despair. + Weep, Albyn, to death and captivity led! + O weep, but thy tears cannot number the dead; + For a merciless sword on Culloden shall wave, + Culloden! that reeks with the blood of the brave. + + _Lochiel_. Go preach to the coward, thou death- + telling seer! + Or, if gory Culloden so dreadful appear, + Draw, dotard, around thy old wavering sight + This mantle, to cover the phantoms of fright. + + _Seer_. Ha! laugh'st thou, Lochiel, my vision to + scorn? + Proud bird of the mountain, thy plume shall be torn! + Say, rushed the bold eagle exultingly forth + From his home, in the dark-rolling clouds of the north? + Lo! the death-shot of foemen outspeeding, he rode + Companionless, bearing destruction abroad; + But down let him stoop from his havoc on high! + Ah! home let him speed, for the spoiler is nigh. + Why flames the far summit? Why shoot to the blast + Those embers, like stars from the firmament cast? + 'Tis the fire shower of ruin, all dreadfully driven + From his eyrie that beacons the darkness of heaven. + Oh, crested Lochiel! the peerless in might, + Whose banners arise on the battlements' height, + Heaven's fire is around thee, to blast and to burn: + Return to thy dwelling! all lonely return! + For the blackness of ashes shall mark where it stood, + And a wild mother scream o'er her famishing brood. + + _Lochiel_. False wizard, avaunt! I have marshalled my + clan-- + Their swords are a thousand, their bosoms are one! + They are true to the last of their blood and their + breath, + And like reapers descend to the harvest of death. + Then welcome be Cumberland's steed to the shock! + Let him dash his proud foam like a wave on the rock! + But we to his kindred, and we to his cause, + When Albyn her claymore indignantly draws; + When her bonneted chieftains to victory crowd, + Clanranald the dauntless, and Moray the proud; + All plaided and plumed in their tartan array---- + + _Seer_.----Lochiel! Lochiel! beware of the day! + For, dark and despairing, my sight I may seal, + But man cannot cover what God would reveal. + 'Tis the sunset of life gives me mystical lore, + And coming events cast their shadows before. + I tell thee, Culloden's dread echoes shall ring, + With the bloodhounds that bark for thy fugitive king. + Lo! anointed by heaven with the vials of wrath, + Behold, where he flies on his desolate path! + Now in darkness and billows he sweeps from my sight; + Rise! rise! ye wild tempests, and cover his flight!-- + 'Tis finished. Their thunders are hushed on the moors; + Culloden is lost, and my country deplores. + But where is the iron-bound prisoner? Where? + For the red eye of battle is shut in despair. + Say, mounts he the ocean-wave, banished, forlorn, + Like a limb from his country cast bleeding and torn? + Ah, no! for a darker departure is near,-- + The war drum is muffled, and black is the bier; + His death bell is tolling! Oh, mercy! dispel + Yon sight that it freezes my spirit to tell! + Life flutters convulsed in his quivering limbs, + And his blood-streaming nostril in agony swims; + Accursed be the faggots that blaze at his feet, + Where his heart shall be thrown, ere it ceases to beat, + With the smoke of its ashes to poison the gale---- + + _Lochiel_. Down, soothless insulter! I trust not the + tale: + For never shall Albyn a destiny meet + So black with dishonour, so foul with retreat. + Though my perishing ranks should be strewed in their + gore, + Like ocean weeds heaped on the surf-beaten shore, + Lochiel, untainted by flight or by chains, + While the kindling of life in his bosom remains, + Shall victor exult, or in death be laid low, + With his back to the field, and his feet to the foe! + And leaving in battle no blot on his name, + Look proudly to heaven from the death-bed of fame. + + CAMPBELL. + + + +[Note: _Life flutters convulsed &c._ Describes the barbarous death which +awaited the traitor according to the statute book of England, as it then +stood. This was the penalty dealt to the rebels of 1745.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +COLUMBUS IN SIGHT OF LAND. + +For three days they stood in this direction, and the further they went +the more frequent and encouraging were the signs of land. Flights of +small birds of various colours, some of them such as sing in the fields, +came flying about the ships, and then continued towards the south-west, +and others were heard also flying by in the night. Tunny fish played +about the smooth sea, and a heron, a pelican, and a duck, were seen, all +bound in the same direction. The herbage which floated by was fresh and +green, as if recently from land, and the air, Columbus observes, was +sweet and fragrant as April breezes in Seville. + +All these, however, were regarded by the crews as so many delusions +beguiling them on to destruction; and when, on the evening of the third +day, they beheld the sun go down upon a shoreless horizon, they broke +forth into turbulent clamour. They exclaimed against this obstinacy in +tempting fate by continuing on into a boundless sea. They insisted +upon turning home, and abandoning the voyage as hopeless. Columbus +endeavoured to pacify them by gentle words and promises of large +rewards; but finding that they only increased in clamour, he assumed a +decided tone. He told them it was useless to murmur; the expedition had +been sent by the sovereigns to seek the Indies, and, happen what might, +he was determined to persevere, until, by the blessing of God, he should +accomplish the enterprise. + +Columbus was now at open defiance with his crew, and his situation +became desperate. Fortunately the manifestations of the vicinity of land +were such on the following day as no longer to admit a doubt. Beside a +quantity of fresh weeds, such as grow in rivers, they saw a green fish +of a kind which keeps about rocks; then a branch of thorn with berries +on it, and recently separated from the tree, floated by them; then they +picked up a reed, a small board, and, above all, a staff artificially +carved. All gloom and mutiny now gave way to sanguine expectation; and +throughout the day each one was eagerly on the watch, in hopes of being +the first to discover the long-sought-for land. + +In the evening, when, according to invariable custom on board of the +admiral's ship, the mariners had sung the vesper hymn to the Virgin, he +made an impressive address to his crew. He pointed out the goodness +of God in thus conducting them by soft and favouring breezes across +a tranquil ocean, cheering their hopes continually with fresh signs, +increasing as their fears augmented, and thus leading and guiding them +to a promised land. He now reminded them of the orders he had given +on leaving the Canaries, that, after sailing westward seven hundred +leagues, they should not make sail after midnight. Present appearances +authorized such a precaution. He thought it probable they would make +land that very night; he ordered, therefore, a vigilant look-out to +be kept from the forecastle, promising to whomsoever should make the +discovery a doublet of velvet, in addition to the pension to be given by +the sovereigns. + +The breeze had been fresh all day, with more sea than usual, and they +had made great progress. At sunset they had stood again to the west, and +were ploughing the waves at a rapid rate, the Pinta keeping the lead +from her superior sailing. The greatest animation prevailed throughout +the ships; not an eye was closed that night. As the evening darkened, +Columbus took his station on the top of the castle or cabin on the +high poop of his vessel, ranging his eye along the dusky horizon, and +maintaining an intense and unremitting watch. About ten o'clock he +thought he beheld a light glimmering at a great distance. Fearing his +eager hopes might deceive him, he called to Pedro Gutierrez, gentleman +of the king's bedchamber, and inquired whether he saw such a light: the +latter replied in the affirmative. Doubtful whether it might not be some +delusion of the fancy, Columbus called Rodrigo Sanchez of Segovia, +and made the same inquiry. By the time the latter had ascended the +round-house, the light had disappeared. They saw it once or twice +afterwards in sudden and passing gleams, as if it were a torch in the +bark of a fisherman, rising and sinking with the waves, or in the hand +of some person on shore, borne up and down as he walked from house to +house. So transient and uncertain were these gleams, that few attached +any importance to them; Columbus, however, considered them as certain +signs of land, and, moreover, that the land was inhabited. + +They continued their course until two in the morning, when a gun from +the Pinta gave the joyful signal of land. It was first descried by a +mariner named Rodrigo de Triana; but the reward was afterwards adjudged +to the admiral, for having previously perceived the light. The land was +now clearly seen about two leagues distant, whereupon they took in sail, +and laid to, waiting impatiently for the dawn. + +The thoughts and feelings of Columbus in this little space of time +must have been tumultuous and intense. At length, in spite of every +difficulty and danger, he had accomplished his object. The great mystery +of the ocean was revealed; his theory, which had been the scoff of +sages, was triumphantly established; he had secured to himself a glory +durable as the world itself. + +It is difficult to conceive the feelings of such a man, at such a +moment, or the conjectures which must have thronged upon his mind, as +to the land before him, covered with darkness. That it was fruitful was +evident from the vegetables which floated from its shores. He thought, +too, that he perceived the fragrance of aromatic groves. The moving +light he had beheld proved it the residence of man. But what were its +inhabitants? Were they like those of the other parts of the globe, or +were they some strange and monstrous race, such as the imagination was +prone in those times to give to all remote and unknown regions? Had he +come upon some wild island far in the Indian Sea, or was this the +famed Cipango itself, the object of his golden fancies? A thousand +speculations of the kind must have swarmed upon him, as, with his +anxious crews, he waited for the night to pass away; wondering whether +the morning light would reveal a savage wilderness, or dawn upon spicy +groves, and glittering fanes, and gilded cities, and all the splendour +of oriental civilization. + +It was on Friday morning, the 12th of October, that Columbus first +beheld the New World. As the day dawned he saw before him a level +island, several leagues in extent, and covered with trees like a +continual orchard. Though apparently uncultivated, it was populous, +for the inhabitants were seen issuing from all parts of the woods and +running to the shore. They were perfectly naked, and, as they stood +gazing at the ships, appeared by their attitudes and gestures to be lost +in astonishment. Columbus made signal for the ships to cast anchor, +and the boats to be manned and armed. He entered his own boat, richly +attired in scarlet, and holding the royal standard; whilst Martin Alonzo +Pinzon, and Vincent Yanez his brother, put off in company in their +boats, each with a banner of the enterprize emblazoned with a green +cross, having on either side the letters F. and Y., the initials of the +Castilian monarchs Fernando and Ysabel, surmounted by crowns. + +As he approached the shore, Columbus, who was disposed for all kinds of +agreeable impressions, was delighted with the purity and suavity of the +atmosphere, the crystal transparency of the sea, and the extraordinary +beauty of the vegetation. He beheld, also, fruits of an unknown kind +upon the trees which overhung the shores. On landing he threw himself on +his knees, kissed the earth, and returned thanks to God with tears +of joy. His example was followed by the rest, whose hearts indeed +overflowed with the same feelings of gratitude, Columbus then rising, +drew his sword, displayed the royal standard, and assembling round him +the two captains, with Rodrigo de Escobedo, notary of the armament, +Rodrigo Sanchez, and the rest who had landed, he took solemn possession +in the name of the Castilian sovereigns, giving the island the name of +San Salvador. Having complied with the requisite forms and ceremonies, +he called upon all present to take the oath of obedience to him, as +admiral and viceroy, representing the persons of the sovereigns. + +The feelings of the crew now burst forth in the most extravagant +transports. They had recently considered themselves devoted men, +hurrying forward to destruction; they now looked upon themselves as +favourites of fortune, and gave themselves up to the most unbounded joy. +They thronged around the admiral with overflowing zeal, some embracing +him, others kissing his hands. Those who had been most mutinous and +turbulent during the voyage, were now most devoted and enthusiastic. +Some begged favours of him, as if he had already wealth and honours in +his gift. Many abject spirits, who had outraged him by their insolence, +now crouched at his feet, begging pardon for all the trouble they had +caused him, and promising the blindest obedience for the future. + + WASHINGTON IRVING. + + + +[Notes: _Columbus_. Christopher Columbus of Genoa (born 1430, died +1506), the discoverer of America. His first expedition was made in 1492. + + +"_The reward was afterwards adjudged to the admiral_." This has often +been alleged, and apparently with considerable reason, as a stain upon +the name of Columbus.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +COLUMBUS SHIPWRECKED. + + +On the morning of the 24th of December, Columbus set sail from Port St. +Thomas before sunrise, and steered to the eastward, with an intention of +anchoring at the harbour of the cacique Guacanagari. The wind was from +the land, but so light as scarcely to fill the sails, and the ships made +but little progress. At eleven o'clock at night, being Christmas eve, +they were within a league or a league and a half of the residence of the +cacique; and Columbus, who had hitherto kept watch, finding the sea calm +and smooth, and the ship almost motionless, retired to rest, not having +slept the preceding night. He was, in general, extremely wakeful on his +coasting voyages, passing whole nights upon deck in all weathers; never +trusting to the watchfulness of others where there was any difficulty or +danger to be provided against. In the present instance he felt perfectly +secure; not merely on account of profound calm, but because the boats on +the preceding day, in their visit to the cacique, had reconnoitred the +coast, and had reported that there were neither rocks nor shoals in +their course. + +No sooner had he retired, than the steersman gave the helm in charge to +one of the ship-boys, and went to sleep. This was in direct violation +of an invariable order of the admiral, that the helm should never be +intrusted to the boys. The rest of the mariners who had the watch took +like advantage of the absence of Columbus, and in a little while +the whole crew was buried in sleep. In the meantime the treacherous +currents, which run swiftly along this coast, carried the vessel +quietly, but with force, upon a sand-bank. The heedless boy had not +noticed the breakers, although they made a roaring that might have been +heard a league. No sooner, however, did he feel the rudder strike, +and hear the tumult of the rushing sea, than he began to cry for +aid. Columbus, whose careful thoughts never permitted him to sleep +profoundly, was the first on deck. The master of the ship, whose duty it +was to have been on watch, next made his appearance, followed by others +of the crew, half awake. The admiral ordered them to take the boat and +carry out an anchor astern, to warp the vessel off. The master and the +sailors sprang into the boat; but, confused as men are apt to be when +suddenly awakened by an alarm, instead of obeying the commands of +Columbus, they rowed off to the other caravel, about half a league to +windward. + +In the meantime the master had reached the caravel, and made known the +perilous state in which he had left the vessel. He was reproached with +his pusillanimous desertion; the commander of the caravel manned his +boat and hastened to the relief of the admiral, followed by the recreant +master, covered with shame and confusion. + +It was too late to save the ship, the current having set her more upon +the bank. The admiral, seeing that his boat had deserted him, that the +ship had swung across the stream, and that the water was continually +gaining upon her, ordered the mast to be cut away, in the hope of +lightening her sufficiently to float her off. Every effort was in vain. +The keel was firmly bedded in the sand; the shock had opened several +seams; while the swell of the breakers, striking her broadside, left +her each moment more and more aground, until she fell over on one side. +Fortunately the weather continued calm, otherwise the ship must have +gone to pieces, and the whole crew might have perished amidst the +currents and breakers. + +The admiral and her men took refuge on board the caravel. Diego de +Arana, chief judge of the armament, and Pedro Gutierrez, the king's +butler, were immediately sent on shore as envoys to the cacique +Guaeanagari, to inform him of the intended visit of the admiral, and of +his disastrous shipwreck. In the meantime, as a light wind had sprung up +from shore, and the admiral was ignorant of his situation, and of the +rocks and banks that might be lurking around him, he lay to until +daylight. + +The habitation of the cacique was about a league and a half from the +wreck. When he heard of the misfortune of his guest, he manifested the +utmost affliction, and even shed tears. He immediately sent all his +people, with all the canoes, large and small, that could be mustered; +and so active were they in their assistance, that in a little while +the vessel was unloaded. The cacique himself, and his brothers and +relatives, rendered all the aid in their power, both on sea and land; +keeping vigilant guard that everything should be conducted with order, +and the property secured from injury or theft. From time to time, he +sent some one of his family, or some principal person of his attendants, +to console and cheer the admiral, assuring him that everything he +possessed should be at his disposal. + +Never, in a civilized country, were the vaunted rites of hospitality +more scrupulously observed, than by this uncultivated savage. All the +effects landed from the ships were deposited near his dwelling; and an +armed guard surrounded them all night, until houses could be prepared +in which to store them. There seemed, however, even among the common +people, no disposition to take advantage of the misfortune of the +stranger. Although they beheld what must in their eyes have been +inestimable treasures, cast, as it were, upon their shores, and open +to depredation, yet there was not the least attempt to pilfer, nor, in +transporting the effects from the ships, had they appropriated the most +trifling article. On the contrary, a general sympathy was visible in +their countenances and actions; and to have witnessed their concern, one +would have supposed the misfortune to have happened to themselves. + +"So loving, so tractable, so peaceable are these people," says Columbus +in his journal, "that I swear to your Majesties, there is not in the +world a better nation, nor a better land. They love their neighbours +as themselves; and their discourse is ever sweet and gentle, and +accompanied with a smile; and though it is true that they are naked, yet +their manners are decorous and praiseworthy." + + WASHINGTON IRVING. + + + +[Note: _Cacique_. The chief of an Indian tribe. The word was adopted by +the Spaniards from the language of the natives of San Domingo. + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +ROBBED IN THE DESERT. + + +I departed from Kooma, accompanied by two shepherds, who were going +towards Sibidooloo. The road was very steep and rocky, and as my horse +had hurt his feet much, he travelled slowly and with great difficulty; +for in many places the ascent was so sharp, and the declivities so +great, that if he had made one false step, he must inevitably have been +dashed to pieces. The herds being anxious to proceed, gave themselves +little trouble about me or my horse, and kept walking on at a +considerable distance. It was about eleven o'clock, as I stopped to +drink a little water at a rivulet (my companions being near a quarter of +a mile before me), that I heard some people calling to each other, +and presently a loud screaming, as from a person in great distress. I +immediately conjectured that a lion had taken one of the shepherds, and +mounted my horse to have a better view of what had happened. The noise, +however, ceased; and I rode slowly towards the place from whence I +thought it proceeded, calling out, but without receiving any answer. In +a little time, however, I perceived one of the shepherds lying among the +long grass near the road; and, though I could see no blood upon him, +concluded he was dead. But when I came close to him, he whispered to +me to stop, telling me that a party of armed men had seized upon his +companion, and shot two arrows at himself as he was making his escape. +I stopped to consider what course to take, and looking round, saw at a +little distance a man sitting upon the stump of a tree; I distinguished +also the heads of six or seven more; sitting among the grass, with +muskets in their hands. I had now no hopes of escaping, and therefore +determined to ride forward towards them. As I approached them, I was +in hopes they were elephant hunters, and by way of opening the +conversation, inquired if they had shot anything; but, without returning +an answer, one of them ordered me to dismount; and then, as if +recollecting himself, waved with his hand for me to proceed. I +accordingly rode past, and had with some difficulty crossed a deep +rivulet, when I heard somebody holloa; and looking back, saw those I +took for elephant hunters now running after me, and calling out to me to +turn back. I stopped until they were all come up, when they informed me +that the King of the Foulahs had sent them on purpose to bring me, +my horse, and everything that belonged to me, to Fooladoo, and that +therefore I must turn back, and go along with them. Without hesitating a +moment, I turned round and followed them, and we travelled together near +a quarter of a mile without exchanging a word. When coming to a dark +place of the wood, one of them said, in the Mandingo language, "This +place will do," and immediately snatched my hat from my head. Though +I was by no means free of apprehension, yet I resolved to show as few +signs of fear as possible; and therefore told them, unless my hat was +returned to me, I should go no farther. But before I had time to receive +an answer, another drew his knife, and seizing upon a metal button which +remained upon my waistcoat, cut it off, and put it in his pocket. Their +intention was now obvious, and I thought that the more easily they were +permitted to rob me of everything, the less I had to fear. I therefore +allowed them to search my pockets without resistance, and examine every +part of my apparel, which they did with scrupulous exactness. But +observing that I had one waistcoat under another, they insisted that I +should cast them both off; and at last, to make sure work, stripped me +quite naked. Even my half-boots (though the sole of one of them was tied +to my foot with a broken bridle-rein) were narrowly inspected. Whilst +they were examining the plunder, I begged them with great earnestness to +return my pocket compass; but when I pointed it out to them, as it was +lying on the ground, one of the banditti thinking I was about to take it +up, cocked his musket, and swore that he would lay me dead on the spot +if I presumed to lay my hand on it. After this some of them went away +with my horse, and the remainder stood considering whether they should +leave me quite naked, or allow me something to shelter me from the sun. +Humanity at last prevailed; they returned me the worst of the two shirts +and a pair of trowsers; and, as they went away, one of them threw back +my hat, in the crown of which I kept my memorandums; and this was +probably the reason they did not wish to keep it. After they were +gone, I sat for some time looking around me with amazement and terror; +whichever way I turned, nothing appeared but danger and difficulty. I +saw myself in the midst of a vast wilderness in the depth of the rainy +season, naked and alone, surrounded by savage animals, and men still +more savage. I was five hundred miles from the nearest European +settlement. All these circumstances crowded at once to my recollection; +and I confess that my spirits began to fail me. I considered my fate as +certain, and that I had no alternative but to lie down and perish. At +this moment, painful as my reflections were, the extraordinary beauty +of a small moss irresistibly caught my eye. I mention this to show from +what trifling circumstances the mind will sometimes derive consolation; +for though the whole plant was not larger than the tip of one of my +fingers, I could not contemplate the delicate conformation of its roots, +leaves, and capsule without admiration. Can that Being (thought I), who +planted, watered, and brought to perfection, in this obscure part of the +world, a thing which appears of so small importance, look with unconcern +upon the situation and sufferings of creatures formed after his own +image?--surely not! Reflections like these would not allow me to +despair; I started up, and disregarding both hunger and fatigue, +travelled forwards, assured that relief was at hand; and I was not +disappointed. In a short time I came to a small village, at the entrance +of which I overtook the two shepherds who had come with me from Rooma. +They were much surprised to see me, for they said they never doubted +that the Foulahs, when they had robbed, had murdered me. Departing from +this village, we travelled over several rocky ridges, and at sunset +arrived at Sibidooloo, the frontier town of the kingdom of Manding. + + MUNGO PARK. + + + +[Note: _Mungo Park_. Born in Selkirkshire in 1771; set out on his first +African exploration in 1795. His object was to explore the Niger; and +this he had done to a great extent when he was murdered (as is supposed) +by the natives in 1805.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + + REST FROM BATTLE. + + + Now deep in ocean sunk the lamp of light, + And drew behind the cloudy veil of night; + The conquering Trojans mourn his beams decayed; + The Greeks rejoicing bless the friendly shade. + The victors keep the field: and Hector calls + A martial council near the navy walls: + These to Scamander's bank apart he led, + Where thinly scattered lay the heaps of dead. + The assembled chiefs, descending on the ground, + Attend his order, and their prince surround. + A massy spear he bore of mighty strength, + Of full ten cubits was the lance's length; + The point was brass, refulgent to behold, + Fixed to the wood with circling rings of gold: + The noble Hector on his lance reclined, + And bending forward, thus revealed his mind: + "Ye valiant Trojans, with attention hear! + Ye Dardan bands, and generous aids, give ear! + This day, we hoped, would wrap in conquering flame + Greece with her ships, and crown our toils with fame. + But darkness now, to save the cowards, falls, + And guards them trembling in their wooden walls. + Obey the night, and use her peaceful hours, + Our steeds to forage, and refresh our powers. + Straight from the town be sheep and oxen sought, + And strengthening bread and generous wine be brought. + Wide o'er the field, high blazing to the sky, + Let numerous fires the absent sun supply, + The flaming piles with plenteous fuel raise, + Till the bright morn her purple beam displays; + Lest, in the silence and the shades of night, + Greece on her sable ships attempt her flight. + Not unmolested let the wretches gain + Their lofty decks, or safely cleave the main: + Some hostile wound let every dart bestow, + Some lasting token of the Phrygian foe: + Wounds, that long hence may ask their spouses' care, + And warn their children from a Trojan war. + Now, through the circuit of our Ilion wall, + Let sacred heralds sound the solemn call; + To bid the sires with hoary honours crowned, + And beardless youths, our battlements surround. + Firm be the guard, while distant lie our powers, + And let the matrons hang with lights the towers: + Lest, under covert of the midnight shade, + The insidious foe the naked town invade. + Suffice, to-night, these orders to obey; + A nobler charge shall rouse the dawning day. + The gods, I trust, shall give to Hector's hand, + From these detested foes to free the land, + Who ploughed, with fates averse, the watery way; + For Trojan vultures a predestined prey. + Our common safety must be now the care; + But soon as morning paints the fields of air, + Sheathed in bright arms let every troop engage, + And the fired fleet behold the battle rage. + Then, then shall Hector and Tydides prove, + Whose fates are heaviest in the scale of Jove. + To-morrow's light (O haste the glorious morn!) + Shall see his bloody spoils in triumph borne, + With this keen javelin shall his breast be gored, + And prostrate heroes bleed around their lord. + Certain as this, oh! might my days endure, + From age inglorious, and black death secure; + So might my life and glory know no bound, + Like Pallas worshipped, like the sun renowned! + As the next dawn, the last they shall enjoy, + Shall crush the Greeks, and end the woes of Troy." + + The leader spoke. From all his host around + Shouts of applause along the shores resound. + Each from the yoke the smoking steeds untied, + And fixed their headstalls to his chariot-side. + Fat sheep and oxen from the town are led, + With generous wine, and all-sustaining bread. + Full hecatombs lay burning on the shore; + The winds to heaven the curling vapours bore; + Ungrateful offering to the immortal powers! + Whose wrath hung heavy o'er the Trojan towers; + Nor Priam nor his sons obtained their grace; + Proud Troy they hated, and her guilty race. + The troops exulting sat in order round, + And beaming fires illumined all the ground. + As when the moon, refulgent lamp of night! + O'er heaven's clear azure spreads her sacred light, + When not a breath disturbs the deep serene, + And not a cloud o'ercasts the solemn scene; + Around her throne the vivid planets roll, + And stars unnumbered gild the glowing pole; + O'er the dark trees a yellower verdure shed, + And tip with silver every mountain's head. + Then shine the vales, the rocks in prospect rise, + A flood of glory bursts from all the skies: + The conscious swains, rejoicing in the sight, + Eye the blue vault, and bless the useful light. + So many flames before proud Ilion blaze, + And lighten glimmering Xanthus with their rays: + The long reflections of the distant fires + Gleam on the walls, and tremble on the spires. + A thousand piles the dusky horrors gild, + And shoot a shady lustre o'er the field. + Full fifty guards each flaming pile attend, + Whose umbered arms, by fits, thick flashes send, + Loud neigh the coursers o'er their heaps of corn, + And ardent warriors wait the rising morn. + + POPE. + + + +[Notes:_Rest from battle_. This is part of Pope's translation of the +Iliad of Homer (Book 8, l. 605). + + +_Stamander_. One of the rivers in the neighbourhood of Troy. + + +_Dardan bands_. Trojan lands. Dardanus was the mythical ancestor of the +Trojans. + +_Generous aids_ = allies. + + +_Tydides_--Diomede. + +_From age inglorious and black death secure_ = safe from inglorious age +and from black death. + + +_Hecatombs_. Sacrifices of 100 oxen. + + +_Ungrateful offering_ = unpleasing offering. + + +_Xanthus_. The other river in the neighbourhood of Troy. + + +_Umbered_ = thrown into shadow, and glimmering in the darkness.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +ARISTIDES. + + +Aristides at first was loved and respected for his surname of _the +Just_, and afterwards envied as much; the latter, chiefly by the +management of Themistocles, who gave it out among the people that +Aristides had abolished the courts of judicature, by drawing the +arbitration of all causes to himself, and so was insensibly gaining +sovereign power, though without guards and the other ensigns of it. The +people, elevated with the late victory at Marathon, thought themselves +capable of everything, and the highest respect little enough for them. +Uneasy, therefore, at finding any one citizen rose to such extraordinary +honour and distinction, they assembled at Athens from all the towns in +Attica, and banished Aristides by the Ostracism; disguising their +envy of his character under the specious pretence of guarding against +tyranny. + +For the _Ostracism_ was not a punishment for crimes and misdemeanours, +but was very decently called an humbling and lessening of some excessive +influence and power. In reality it was a mild gratification of envy; for +by this means, whoever was offended at the growing greatness of another, +discharged his spleen, not in anything cruel or inhuman, but only in +voting a ten years' banishment. But when it once began to fall upon +mean and profligate persons, it was for ever after entirely laid aside; +Hyperbolus being the last that was exiled by it. + +The reason of its turning upon such a wretch was this. Alcibiades and +Nicias, who were persons of the greatest interest in Athens, had each +his party; but perceiving that the people were going to proceed to +the Ostracism, and that one of them was likely to suffer by it, they +consulted together, and joining interests, caused it to fall upon +Hyperbolus. Hereupon the people, full of indignation at finding this +kind of punishment dishonoured and turned into ridicule, abolished it +entirely. + +The Ostracism (to give a summary account of it) was conducted in the +following manner. Every citizen took a piece of a broken pot, or a +shell, on which he wrote the name of the person he wanted to have +banished, and carried it to a part of the market-place that was enclosed +with wooden rails. The magistrates then counted the number of the +shells; and if it amounted not to six thousand, the Ostracism stood for +nothing: if it did, they sorted the shells, and the person whose name +was found on the greatest number, was declared an exile for ten years, +but with permission to enjoy his estate. + +At the time that Aristides was banished, when the people were inscribing +the names on the shells, it is reported that an illiterate burgher came +to Aristides, whom he took for some ordinary person, and, giving him his +shell, desired him to write Aristides upon it. The good man, surprised +at the adventure, asked him "Whether Aristides had ever injured him?" +"No," said he, "nor do I even know him; but it vexes me to hear him +everywhere called _the Just_." Aristides made no answer, but took the +shell, and having written his own name upon it, returned it to the man. +When he quitted Athens, he lifted up his hands towards heaven, and, +agreeably to his character, made a prayer, very different from that of +Achilles; namely, "That the people of Athens might never see the day +which should force them to remember Aristides." + + _Plutarch's Lives_. + + + +[Notes: _Aristides_. A prominent citizen of Athens (about the year 490 +B.C.) opposed to the more advanced policy of Themistocles, who wished to +make the city rely entirely upon her naval power. He was ostracised in +489, but afterwards restored. + + +_Marathon_. The victory gained over the Persian invaders, 490 B.C.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +THE VENERABLE BEDE. + +Baeda--the venerable Bede as later times styled him--was born about ten +years after the Synod of Whitby, beneath the shade of a great abbey +which Benedict Biscop was rearing by the mouth of the Wear. His youth +was trained and his long tranquil life was wholly spent in an offshoot +of Benedict's house which was founded by his scholar Ceolfrid. +Baeda never stirred from Jarrow. "I spent my whole life in the same +monastery," he says, "and while attentive to the rule of my order and +the service of the Church, my constant pleasure lay in learning, or +teaching, or writing." The words sketch for us a scholar's life, the +more touching in its simplicity that it is the life of the first great +English scholar. The quiet grandeur of a life consecrated to knowledge, +the tranquil pleasure that lies in learning and teaching and writing, +dawned for Englishmen in the story of Baeda. While still young, he +became teacher, and six hundred monks, besides strangers that flocked +thither for instruction, formed his school of Jarrow. It is hard to +imagine how, among the toils of the schoolmaster and the duties of the +monk, Baeda could have found time for the composition of the numerous +works that made his name famous in the West. But materials for study had +accumulated in Northumbria through the journeys of Wilfrith and Benedict +Biscop, and Archbishop Eegberht was forming the first English library at +York. The tradition of the older Irish teachers still lingered to direct +the young scholar into that path of scriptural interpretation to which +he chiefly owed his fame. Greek, a rare accomplishment in the West, +came to him from the school which the Greek Archbishop Theodore founded +beneath the walls of Canterbury. His skill in the ecclesiastical chaunt +was derived from a Roman cantor whom Pope Vilalian sent in the train of +Benedict Biscop. Little by little the young scholar thus made himself +master of the whole range of the science of his time; he became, +as Burke rightly styled him, "the father of English learning." The +tradition of the older classic culture was first revived for England +in his quotations of Plato and Aristotle, of Seneca and Cicero, of +Lucretius and Ovid. Virgil cast over him the same spell that he cast +over Dante; verses from the. Aeneid break his narratives of martyrdoms, +and the disciple ventures on the track of the great master in a little +eclogue descriptive of the approach of spring. His work was done with +small aid from others. "I am my own secretary," he writes; "I make my +own notes. I am my own librarian." But forty-five works remained after +his death to attest his prodigious industry. In his own eyes and +those of his contemporaries, the most important among these were the +commentaries and homilies upon various books of the Bible which he had +drawn from the writings of the Fathers. But he was far from confining +himself to theology. In treatises compiled as text-books for his +scholars, Baeda threw together all that the world had then accumulated +in astronomy and meteorology, in physics and music, in philosophy, +grammar, rhetoric, arithmetic, medicine. But the encyclopaedic character +of his researches left him in heart a simple Englishman. He loved his +own English tongue, he was skilled in English song, his last work was a +translation into English of the gospel of St. John, and almost the last +words that broke from his lips were some English rhymes upon death. + +But the noblest proof of his love of England lies in the work which +immortalizes his name. In his 'Ecclesiastical History of the English +Nation,' Baeda was at once the founder of medieval history and the first +English historian. All that we really know of the century and a half +that follows the landing of Augustine, we know from him. Wherever his +own personal observation extended, the story is told with admirable +detail and force. He is hardly less full or accurate in the portions +which he owed to his Kentish friends, Alewine and Nothelm. What he owed +to no informant was his own exquisite faculty of story-telling, and yet +no story of his own telling is so touching as the story of his death. +Two weeks before the Easter of 735 the old man was seized with an +extreme weakness and loss of breath. He still preserved, however, his +usual pleasantness and gay good-humour, and in spite of prolonged +sleeplessness continued his lectures to the pupils about him. Verses +of his own English tongue broke from time to time from the master's +lip--rude rhymes that told how before the "need-fare," Death's stern +"must-go," none can enough bethink him what is to be his doom for good +or ill. The tears of Baeda's scholars mingled with his song. "We never +read without weeping," writes one of then. So the days rolled on to +Ascension-tide, and still master and pupils toiled at their work, for +Baeda longed to bring to an end his version of St. John's Gospel into +the English tongue, and his extracts from Bishop Isidore. "I don't want +my boys to read a lie," he answered those who would have had him +rest, "or to work to no purpose, after I am gone." A few days before +Ascension-tide his sickness grew upon him, but he spent the whole day in +teaching, only saying cheerfully to his scholars, "Learn with what speed +you may; I know not how long I may last." The dawn broke on another +sleepless night, and again the old man called his scholars round him and +bade them write. "There is still a chapter wanting," said the scribe, as +the morning drew on, "and it is hard for thee to question thyself any +longer." "It is easily done," said Baeda; "take thy pen and write +quickly." Amid tears and farewells the day wore on to eventide. "There +is yet one sentence unwritten, dear master," said the boy. "Write it +quickly," bade the dying man. "It is finished now," said the little +scribe at last. "You speak truth," said the master; "all is finished +now." Placed upon the pavement, his head supported in his scholar's +arms, his face turned to the spot where he was wont to pray, Baeda +chaunted the solemn "Glory to God." As his voice reached the close of +his song, he passed quietly away. + + J. R. GREEN. + + + +[Note: _Baeda_. The father of literature and learning in England +(656-735 A.D.).] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +THE DEATH OF ANSELM. + + +Anselm's life was drawing to its close. The re-enactment and +confirmation by the authority of the great Whitsuntide Assembly of the +canons of the Synod of London against clerical marriage, and a dispute +with two of the Northern bishops--his old friend Ralph Flambard, and the +archbishop-elect of York, who, apparently reckoning on Anselm's age and +bad health, was scheming to evade the odious obligation of acknowledging +the paramount claims of the see of Canterbury--were all that marked the +last year of his life. A little more than a year before his own death, +he had to bury his old and faithful friend--a friend first in the +cloister of Bee, and then in the troubled days of his English +primacy--the great builder, Gundulf, Bishop of Rochester. Anselm's last +days shall be told in the words of one who had the best right to record +the end of him whom he had loved so simply and so loyally--his attendant +Eadmer. + +"During these events (of the last two years of his life) he wrote a +treatise 'Concerning the Agreement of Foreknowledge, Predestination, and +the Grace of God, with Free Will,' in which contrary to his wont, he +found difficulty in composition; for after his illness at Bury St. +Edmund's, as long as he was spared to this life, he was weaker than +before; so that, when he was moving from place to place, he was from +that time carried in a litter, instead of riding on horseback. He was +tried, also, by frequent and sharp sicknesses, so that we scarce dared +promise him life. He, however, never left off his old way of living, but +was always engaged in godly meditations, or holy exhortations, or other +good work. + +"In the third year after King Henry had recalled him from his second +banishment, every kind of food by which nature is sustained became +loathsome to him. He used to eat, however, putting force on himself, +knowing that he could not live without food; and in this way he somehow +or another dragged on life through half a year, gradually failing day by +day in body, though in vigour of mind he was still the same as he used +to be. So being strong in spirit, though but very feeble in the flesh, +he could not go to his oratory on foot; but from his strong desire to +attend the consecration of the Lord's body, which he venerated with a +special feeling of devotion, he caused himself to be carried thither +every day in a chair. We who attended on him tried to prevail on him to +desist, because it fatigued him so much; but we succeeded, and that with +difficulty, only four days before he died. + +"From that time he took to his bed? and, with gasping breath, continued +to exhort all who had the privilege of drawing near him to live to God, +each in his own order. Palm Sunday had dawned, and we, as usual, were +sitting round him; one of us said to him, 'Lord father, we are given to +understand that you are going to leave the world for your Lord's Easter +court.' He answered, 'If His will be so, I shall gladly obey His will. +But if He willed rather that I should yet remain amongst you, at least +till I have solved a question which I am turning in my mind, about the +origin of the soul, I should receive it thankfully, for I know not +whether any one will finish it after I am gone. Indeed, I hope, that if +I could take food, I might yet get well. For I feel no pain anywhere; +only, from weakness of my stomach, which cannot take food, I am failing +altogether.' + +"On the following Tuesday, towards evening, he was no longer able to +speak intelligibly. Ralph, Bishop of Rochester, asked him to bestow +his absolution and blessing on us who were present, and on his other +children, and also on the king and queen with their children, and the +people of the land who had kept themselves under God in his obedience. +He raised his right hand, as if he was suffering nothing, and made the +sign of the Holy Cross; and then dropped his head and sank down. The +congregation of the brethren were already chanting matins in the great +church, when one of those who watched about our father the book of the +Gospels and read before him the history of the Passion, which was to be +read that day at the mass. But when he came to our Lord's words, 'Ye are +they which have continued with me in my temptations, and I appoint unto +you a kingdom, as my Father hath appointed unto me, that ye may eat and +drink at my table,' he began to draw his breath more slowly. We saw +that he was just going, so he was removed from his bed, and laid upon +sackcloth and ashes. And thus, the whole family of his children being +collected round him, he gave up his last breath into the hands of his +Creator, and slept in peace." + + DEAN CHURCH. + + + +[Note:_Anselm_. An Italian by birth (1033-1109), was Abbot of Bee, in +Normandy, and afterwards Archbishop of Canterbury, in both succeeding +his countryman Lanfranc. He was famous as a scholastic philosopher; and, +as a Churchman, he struggled long for the liberties of the Church with +William II. and Henry I.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +THE MURDER OF BECKET. + + +The vespers had already begun, and the monks were singing the service in +the choir, when two boys rushed up the nave, announcing, more by their +terrified gestures than by their words, that the soldiers were bursting +into the palace and monastery. Instantly the service was thrown into the +utmost confusion; part remained at prayer, part fled into the numerous +hiding-places the vast fabric affords; and part went down the steps of +the choir into the transept to meet the little band at the door. "Come +in, come in!" exclaimed one of them; "Come in, and let us die together." +The Archbishop continued to stand outside, and said, "Go and finish the +service. So long as you keep in the entrance, I shall not come in." They +fell back a few paces, and he stepped within the door, but, finding the +whole place thronged with people, he paused on the threshold, and asked, +"What is it that these people fear?" One general answer broke forth, +"The armed men in the cloister." As he turned and said, "I shall go out +to them," he heard the clash of arms behind. The knights had just forced +their way into the cloister, and were now (as would appear from their +being thus seen through the open door) advancing along its southern +side. They were in mail, which covered their faces up to their eyes, and +carried their swords drawn. Three had hatchets. Fitzurse, with the axe +he had taken from the carpenters, was foremost, shouting as he came, +"Here, here, king's men!" Immediately behind him followed Robert +Fitzranulph, with three other knights, and a motley group--some their +own followers, some from the town--with weapons, though not in armour, +brought up the rear. At this sight, so unwonted in the peaceful +cloisters of Canterbury, not probably beheld since the time when the +monastery had been sacked by the Danes, the monks within, regardless +of all remonstrances, shut the door of the cathedral, and proceeded +to barricade it with iron bars. A loud knocking was heard from the +terrified band without, who having vainly endeavoured to prevent the +entrance of the knights into the cloister, now rushed before them to +take refuge in the church. Becket, who had stepped some paces into the +cathedral, but was resisting the solicitations of those immediately +about him to move up into the choir for safety, darted back, calling +aloud as he went, "Away, you cowards! By virtue of your obedience I +command you not to shut the door--the church must not be turned into a +castle." With his own hands he thrust them away from the door, opened it +himself, and catching hold of the excluded monks, dragged them into the +building, exclaiming, "Come in, come in--faster, faster!" + + * * * * * + +The knights, who had been checked for a moment by the sight of the +closed door, on seeing it unexpectedly thrown open, rushed into the +church. It was, we must remember, about five o'clock in a winter +evening; the shades of night were gathering, and were deepened into +a still darker gloom within the high and massive walls of the vast +cathedral, which was only illuminated here and there by the solitary +lamps burning before the altars. The twilight, lengthening from the +shortest day a fortnight before, was but just sufficient to reveal the +outline of objects. + + * * * * * + +In the dim twilight they could just discern a group of figures mounting +the steps of the eastern staircase. One of the knights called out to +them, "Stay." Another, "Where is Thomas Becket, traitor to the King?" +No answer was returned. None could have been expected by any one who +remembered the indignant silence with which Becket had swept by when the +same words had been applied by Randulf of Broc at Northampton. Fitzurse +rushed forward, and, stumbling against one of the monks on the lower +step, still not able to distinguish clearly in the darkness, exclaimed, +"Where is the Archbishop?" Instantly the answer came: "Reginald, here I +am, no traitor, but the archbishop and priest of God; what do you wish?" +and from the fourth step, which he had reached in his ascent, with a +slight motion of his head--noticed apparently as his peculiar manner in +moments of excitement--Becket descended to the transept. Attired, we +are told, in his white rochet, with a cloak and hood thrown over his +shoulders, he thus suddenly confronted his assailants. Fitzurse sprang +back two or three paces, and Becket passing by him took up his station +between the central pillar and the massive wall which still forms the +south-west corner of what was then the chapel of St. Benedict. Here they +gathered round him, with the cry, "Absolve the bishops whom you have +excommunicated." "I cannot do other than I have done," he replied, and +turning to Fitzurse, he added, "Reginald, you have received many favours +at my hands; why do you come into my church armed?" Fitzurse planted the +axe against his breast, and returned for answer, "You shall die--I will +tear out your heart." Another, perhaps in kindness, struck him between +the shoulders with the flat of his sword, exclaiming, "Fly; you are a +dead man." "I am ready to die," replied the primate, "for God and the +Church; but I warn you, I curse you in the name of God Almighty, if you +do not let my men escape." + +The well-known horror which in that age was felt at an act of sacrilege, +together with the sight of the crowds who were rushing in from the town +through the nave, turned their efforts for the next few moments to +carrying him out of the church. Fitzurse threw down the axe, and tried +to drag him out by the collar of his long cloak, calling, "Come with +us--you are our prisoner." "I will not fly, you detestable fellow," was +Becket's reply, roused to his usual vehemence, and wrenching the cloak +out of Fitzurse's grasp. The three knights struggled violently to put +him on Tracy's shoulders. Becket set his back against the pillar, and +resisted with all his might, whilst Grim, vehemently remonstrating, +threw his arms around him to aid his efforts. In the scuffle, Becket +fastened upon Tracy, shook him by his coat of mail, and exerting his +great strength, flung him down on the pavement. It was hopeless to carry +on the attempt to remove him. And in the final struggle which now began, +Fitzurse, as before, took the lead. He approached with his drawn sword, +and waving it over his head, cried, "Strike, strike!" but merely dashed +off his cap. Tracy sprang forward and struck a more decided blow. + + * * * * * + +The blood from the first blow was trickling down his face in a thin +streak; he wiped it with his arm, and when he saw the stain, he said, +"Into thy hands, O Lord, I commend my spirit." At the third blow, he +sank on his knees--his arms falling, but his hands still joined as if +in prayer. With his face turned towards the altar of St. Benedict, he +murmured in a low voice, "For the name of Jesus, and the defence of the +Church, I am willing to die." Without moving hand or foot, he fell fiat +on his face as he spoke, and with such dignity that his mantle, which +extended from head to foot, was not disarranged. In this posture he +received a tremendous blow, aimed with such violence that the scalp or +crown of the head was severed from the skull, and the sword snapped in +two on the marble pavement. Hugh of Horsea planted his foot on the neck +of the corpse, thrust his sword into the ghastly wound, and scattered +the brains over the pavement. "Let us go--let us go," he said, in +conclusion, "the traitor is dead; he will rise no more." + + DEAN STANLEY. + + + +[Note: _Thomas Becket_ (1119-1170). Chancellor and afterwards Archbishop +of Canterbury under Henry II.; maintained a heroic, though perhaps +ambitious and undesirable struggle with that king for the independence +of the clergy; and ended his life by assassination at the hands of +certain of Henry's servants.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +THE DEATH OF ELIZABETH + +The triumph of her lieutenant, Mountjoy, flung its lustre over the last +days of Elizabeth, but no outer triumph could break the gloom which +gathered round the dying queen. Lonely as she had always been, her +loneliness deepened as she drew towards the grave. The statesmen and +warriors of her earlier days had dropped one by one from her council +board; and their successors were watching her last moments, and +intriguing for favour in the coming reign. The old splendour of her +court waned and disappeared. Only officials remained about her, "the +other of the council and nobility estrange themselves by all occasions." +As she passed along in her progresses, the people, whose applause she +courted, remained cold and silent. The temper of the age, in fact, was +changing and isolating her as it changed. Her own England, the England +which had grown up around her, serious, moral, prosaic, shrank coldly +from this child of earth, and the renascence, brilliant, fanciful, +unscrupulous, irreligious. She had enjoyed life as the men of her day +enjoyed it, and now that they were gone she clung to it with a fierce +tenacity. She hunted, she danced, she jested with her young favourites, +she coquetted, and scolded, and frolicked at sixty-seven as she had +done at thirty. "The queen," wrote a courtier, a few months before her +death, "was never so gallant these many years, nor so set upon jollity." +She persisted, in spite of opposition, in her gorgeous progresses from +country-house to country-house. She clung to business as of old, and +rated in her usual fashion, "one who minded not to giving up some matter +of account." But death crept on. Her face became haggard, and her frame +shrank almost to a skeleton. At last, her taste for finery disappeared, +and she refused to change her dresses for a week together. A strange +melancholy settled down on her: "she held in her hand," says one who saw +her in her last days, "a golden cup, which she often put to her lips: +but in truth her heart seemed too full to need more filling." Gradually +her mind gave way. She lost her memory, the violence of her temper +became unbearable, her very courage seemed to forsake her. She called +for a sword to lie constantly beside her, and thrust it from time to +time through the arras, as if she heard murderers stirring there. Food +and rest became alike distasteful. She sate day and night propped up +with pillows on a stool, her finger on her lip, her eyes fixed on the +floor, without a word. If she once broke the silence, it was with a +flash of her old queenliness. Cecil asserted that she "must" go to bed, +and the word roused her like a trumpet. "Must!" she exclaimed; "is +_must_ a word to be addressed to princes? Little man, little man! thy +father, if he had been alive, durst not have used that word." Then, as +her anger spent itself, she sank into her old dejection. "Thou art so +presumptuous," she said, "because thou knowest I shall die." She rallied +once more when the ministers beside her bed named Lord Beauchamp, the +heir to the Suffolk claim, as a possible successor. "I will have no +rogue's son," she cried hoarsely, "in my seat." But she gave no sign, +save a motion of the head, at the mention of the King of Scots. She was +in fact fast becoming insensible; and early the next morning the life +of Elizabeth, a life so great, so strange and lonely in its greatness, +passed quietly away. + + J.R. GREEN. + + + +[Notes: _Mountjoy_. The Queen's lieutenant in Ireland, who had had +considerable success in dealing with the Irish rebels. + + +_This chill of ... the renascence._ In her irreligion, as well as in +her brilliancy and fancy, Elizabeth might fitly be called the child +or product of the Pagan renascence or new birth, as the return to the +freedom of classic literature, so powerful in the England of her day, +was called. + + +_Thy father_ = the great Lord Burghley, who guided the counsels of the +Queen throughout all the earlier part of her reign. + + +_The Suffolk claim, i.e.,_ the claim derived from Mary, the sister of +Henry VIII., who married Charles Brandon, Duke of Suffolk. James, who +succeeded Elizabeth, was descended from the elder sister, Margaret, +married to James IV. of Scotland.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + + THE SAXON AND THE GAEL. + + + So toilsome was the road to trace, + The guide, abating of his pace, + Led slowly through the pass's jaws, + And ask'd Fitz-James by what strange cause + He sought these wilds? traversed by few, + Without a pass from Roderick Dhu. + "Brave Gael, my pass, in danger tried, + Hangs in my belt, and by my side; + Yet sooth to tell," the Saxon said, + "I dreamed not now to claim its aid. + When here but three days since, I came, + Bewildered in pursuit of game, + All seemed as peaceful and as still + As the mist slumbering on yon hill: + Thy dangerous chief was then afar, + Nor soon expected back from war." + "But, Stranger, peaceful since you came, + Bewildered in the mountain game, + Whence the bold boast by which you show + Vich-Alpine's vowed and mortal foe?" + "Warrior, but yester-morn, I knew + Nought of thy Chieftain, Roderick Dhu, + Save as an outlaw'd desperate man, + The chief of a rebellious clan, + Who in the Regent's court and sight, + With ruffian dagger stabbed a knight; + Yet this alone might from his part + Sever each true and loyal heart." + Wrathful at such arraignment foul, + Dark lowered the clansman's sable scowl. + A space he paused, then sternly said,-- + "And heard'st thou why he drew his blade? + Heards't thou that shameful word and blow + Brought Roderick's vengeance on his foe? + What reck'd the Chieftain if he stood + On Highland-heath, or Holy-Rood? + He rights such wrong where it is given, + If it were in the court of heaven." + "Still was it outrage:--yet, 'tis true, + Not then claimed sovereignty his due; + While Albany, with feeble hand, + Held borrowed truncheon of command, + The young King mew'd in Stirling tower, + Was stranger to respect and power. + But then, thy Chieftain's robber life! + Winning mean prey by causeless strife, + Wrenching from ruined lowland swain + His herds and harvest reared in vain, + Methinks a soul like thine should scorn + The spoils from such foul foray borne." + The Gael beheld him grim the while, + And answered with disdainful smile,-- + "Saxon, from yonder mountain high, + I marked thee send delighted eye + Far to the south and east, where lay + Extended in succession gay, + Deep waving fields and pastures green, + With gentle slopes and groves between:-- + These fertile plains, that softened vale, + Were once the birthright of the Gael; + The stranger came with iron hand, + And from our fathers reft the land. + Where dwell we now? See, rudely swell + Crag over crag, fell over fell. + Ask we this savage hill we tread, + For fattened steer or household bread; + Ask we for flocks these shingles dry, + And well the mountain might reply,-- + "To you, as to your sires of yore, + Belong the target and claymore! + I give you shelter in my breast, + Your own good blades must win the rest." + Pent in this fortress of the North, + Think'st thou we will not sally forth, + To spoil the spoiler as we may, + And from the robber rend the prey? + Aye, by my soul!--While on yon plain + The Saxon rears one shock of grain; + While of ten thousand herds, there strays + But one along yon river's maze,-- + The Gael, of plain and river heir, + Shall, with strong hand, redeem his share. + Where live the mountain Chiefs who hold + That plundering Lowland field and fold + Is aught but retribution true? + Seek other cause 'gainst Roderick Dhu." + Answered Fitz-James--"And, if I sought, + Think'st thou no other could be brought? + What deem ye of my path waylaid, + My life given o'er to ambuscade?" + "As of a meed to rashness due: + Hadst thou sent warning fair and true,-- + I seek my hound, or falcon strayed. + I seek, good faith, a Highland maid.-- + Free hadst thou been to come and go; + But secret path marks secret foe. + Nor yet, for this, even as a spy, + Hadst thou unheard, been doomed to die, + Save to fulfil an augury." + "Well, let it pass; nor will I now + Fresh cause of enmity avow, + To chafe thy mood and cloud thy brow. + Enough, I am by promise tied + To match me with this man of pride: + Twice have I sought Clan-Alpine's glen + In peace: but when I come again, + I come with banner, brand, and bow, + As leader seeks his mortal foe. + For love-lorn swain, in lady's bower, + Ne'er panted for the appointed hour, + As I, until before me stand + This rebel Chieftain and his band." + "Have, then, thy wish!"--he whistled shrill, + And he was answered from the hill: + Wild as the scream of the curlew, + From crag to crag the signal flew. + Instant, through copse and heath, arose + Bonnets and spears, and bended bows. + On right, on left, above, below, + Sprung up at once the lurking foe; + From shingles grey their lances start, + The bracken bush sends forth the dart. + The rushes and the willow wand + Are bristling into axe and brand, + And every tuft of broom gives life + To plaided warrior armed for strife. + That whistle garrison'd the glen + At once with full five hundred men, + As if the yawning hill to heaven + A subterraneous host had given. + Watching their leader's beck and will, + All silent there they stood and still. + Like the loose crags whose threatening mass + Lay tottering o'er the hollow pass, + As if an infant's touch could urge + Their headlong passage down the verge, + With step and weapon forward flung. + Upon the mountain-side they hung. + The mountaineer cast glance of pride + Along Benledi's living side, + Then fixed his eye and sable brow + Full on Fitz-James--"How says't thou now? + These are Clan-Alpine's warriors true, + And, Saxon,--I am Roderick Dhu!" + Fitz-James was brave:--Though to his heart + The life-blood thrilled with sudden start, + He mann'd himself with dauntless air, + Returned the Chief his haughty stare, + His back against a rock he bore, + And firmly placed his foot before:-- + "Come one, come all! this rock shall fly + From its firm base as soon as I." + Sir Roderick marked--and in his eyes + Respect was mingled with surprise, + And the stern joy which warriors feel + In foemen worthy of their steel. + Short space he stood--then waved his hand; + Down sunk the disappearing band: + Each warrior vanished where he stood, + In broom or bracken, heath or wood: + Sunk brand and spear, and bended bow, + In osiers pale and copses low; + It seemed as if their mother Earth + Had swallowed up her warlike birth. + The wind's last breath had tossed in air + Pennon, and plaid, and plumage fair,-- + The next but swept a lone hill-side, + Where heath and fern were waving wide; + The sun's last glance was glinted back, + From spear and glaive, from targe and jack,-- + The next, all unreflected, shone + On bracken green and cold grey stone. + Fitz-James looked round--yet scarce believed + The witness that his sight received; + Such apparition well might seem + Delusion of a dreadful dream. + Sir Roderick in suspense he eyed, + And to his look the Chief replied, + "Fear nought--nay, that I need not say-- + But--doubt not aught from mine array. + Thou art my guest:--I pledged my word + As far as Coilantogle ford: + Nor would I call a clansman's brand, + For aid against one valiant hand, + Though on our strife lay every vale + Rent by the Saxon from the Gael. + So move we on;--I only meant + To show the reed on which you leant, + Deeming this path you might pursue + Without a pass from Roderick Dhu." + + * * * * * + + The Chief in silence strode before, + And reached that torrent's sounding shore, + Which, daughter of three mighty lakes, + From Vennachar in silver breaks + Sweeps through the plain, and ceaseless mines, + On Bochastle the mouldering lines. + Where "Rome, the Empress of the world. + Of yore her eagle wings unfurl'd. + And here his course the Chieftain staid; + Threw down his target and his plaid, + And to the Lowland warrior said:-- + "Bold Saxon! to his promise just, + Vich-Alpine has discharged his trust. + This murderous Chief, this ruthless man. + This head of a rebellious clan, + Hath led thee safe, through watch and ward, + Far past Clan-Alpine's outmost guard. + Now, man to man, and steel to steel, + A Chieftain's vengeance thou shalt feel, + See, here, all vantageless, I stand, + Armed like thyself, with single brand: + For this is Coilantogle ford, + And thou must keep thee with thy sword." + The Saxon paused:--"I ne'er delayed, + When foeman bade me draw my blade; + Nay more, brave Chief, I vow'd thy death: + Yet sure thy fair and generous faith, + And my deep debt for life preserved, + A better meed have well deserved:-- + Can nought but blood our feud atone? + Are there no means?"--"No, stranger, none! + And hear,--to fire thy flagging zeal,-- + The Saxon cause rests on thy steel; + For thus spoke Fate by prophet bred + Between the living and the dead: + "Who spills the foremost foeman's life, + His party conquers in the strife."-- + "Then by my word," the Saxon said, + "The riddle is already read. + Seek yonder brake beneath the cliff,-- + There lies Red Murdoch, stark and stiff. + Thus Fate has solved her prophecy, + Then yield to Fate, and not to me. + To James, at Stirling, let us go, + When, if thou wilt be still his foe, + Or if the King shall not agree + To grant thee grace and favour free, + I plight mine honour, oath, and word, + That, to thy native strengths restored, + With each advantage shalt thou stand, + That aids thee now to guard thy land."-- + Dark lightning flashed from Roderick's eye-- + "Soars thy presumption then so high, + Because a wretched kern ye slew, + Homage to name to Roderick Dhu? + He yields not, he, to man nor Fate! + Thou add'st but fuel to my hate:-- + My clansman's blood demands revenge.-- + Not yet prepared?--By Heaven, I change + My thought, and hold thy valour light + As that of some vain carpet-knight, + Who ill-deserved my courteous care, + And whose best boast is but to wear + A braid of his fair lady's hair."-- + "I thank thee, Roderick, for the word! + It nerves my heart, it steels my sword; + For I have sworn this braid to stain + In the best blood that warms thy vein. + Now, truce, farewell; and ruth, begone! + Yet think not that by thee alone, + Proud Chief! can courtesy be shown: + Though not from copse, or heath, or cairn, + Start at my whistle, clansmen stern, + Of this small horn one feeble blast + Would fearful odds against thee cast. + But fear not--doubt not--which thou wilt-- + We try this quarrel hilt to hilt."-- + Then each at once his faulchion drew, + Each on the ground his scabbard threw, + Each looked to sun, and stream, and plain, + As what they ne'er might see again: + Then foot, and point, and eye opposed, + In dubious strife they darkly closed. + Ill-fared it then with Roderick Dhu, + That on the field his targe he threw, + Whose brazen studs and tough bull-hide + Had death so often dashed aside: + For, trained abroad his arms to wield, + Fitz-James's blade was sword and shield. + He practised every pass and ward, + To thrust, to strike, to feint, to guard; + While less expert, though stronger far, + The Gael maintained unequal war. + Three times in closing strife they stood, + And thrice the Saxon blade drank blood: + No stinted draught, no scanty tide, + The gushing flood the tartans dyed. + Fierce Roderick felt the fatal drain, + And showered his blows like wintry rain; + And, as firm rock or castle-roof, + Against the winter shower is proof, + The foe invulnerable still + Foiled his wild rage by steady skill; + Till, at advantage ta'en, his brand + Forced Roderick's weapon from his hand, + And, backward borne upon the lea, + Brought the proud Chieftain to his knee. + "Now, yield thee, or, by Him who made + The world, thy heart's blood dyes my blade!"-- + "Thy threats, thy mercy, I defy! + Let recreant yield, who fears to die."-- + Like adder darting from his coil, + Like wolf that dashes through the toil, + Like mountain-cat who guards her young, + Full at Fitz-James's throat he sprung, + Received, but reck'd not of a wound, + And locked his arms his foeman round.-- + Now gallant Saxon, hold thine own! + No maiden's hand is round thee thrown! + That desperate grasp thy frame might feel, + Through bars of brass and triple steel!-- + They tug, they strain!--down, down they go, + The Gael above, Fitz-James below. + The Chieftain's gripe his throat compress'd, + His knee was planted on his breast; + His clotted locks he backward threw, + Across his brow his hand he drew, + From blood and mist to clear his sight, + Then gleam'd aloft his dagger bright! + --But hate and fury ill supplied + The stream of life's exhausted tide, + And all too late the advantage came, + To turn the odds of deadly game; + For, while the dagger gleam'd on high, + Keeled soul and sense, reeled brain and eye, + Down came the blow! but in the heath + The erring blade found bloodless sheath. + The struggling foe may now unclasp + The fainting Chief's relaxing grasp; + Unbounded from the dreadful close, + But breathless all, Fitz-James arose. + + SCOTT. + + + +[Notes: _Fitz-James_ is James V. in disguise. + + +_Holy Rood_, or Holy Cross, where was the royal palace of the Scottish +kings. + + +_Albany_. The Duke of Albany, who was regent of Scotland during part of +the minority of James V. + + +_Where Rome, the Empress, &c._ And where remnants of Roman encampments +are still to be traced.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +THE BATTLE OF NASEBY. + + +BY five o'clock in the morning, the whole army, in order of battle, +began to descry the enemy from the rising grounds about a mile from +Naseby, and moved towards them. They were drawn up on a little ascent in +a large common fallow-field, in one line, extending from one side of the +field to the other, the field something more than a mile over; our army +in the same order, in one line, with the reserves. + +The king led the main battle of foot, Prince Rupert the right wing of +the horse, and Sir Marmaduke Langdale the left. Of the enemy Fairfax and +Skippon led the body, Cromwell and Roseter the right, and Ireton the +left. The numbers of both armies so equal, as not to differ five hundred +men, save that the king had most horse by about one thousand, and +Fairfax most foot by about five hundred. The number was in each army +about eighteen thousand men. + +The armies coming close up, the wings engaged first. The prince with his +right wing charged with his wonted fury, and drove all the parliament's +wing of horse, one division excepted, clear out of the field. Ireton, +who commanded this wing, give him his due, rallied often, and fought +like a lion; but our wing bore down all before them, and pursued +them with a terrible execution. + +Ireton, seeing one division of his horse left, repaired to them, and +keeping his ground, fell foul of a brigade of our foot, who coming up to +the head of the line, he like a madman charges them with his horse. But +they with their pikes tore them to pieces; so that this division was +entirely ruined. Ireton himself, thrust through the thigh with a pike, +wounded in the face with a halberd, was unhorsed and taken prisoner. + +Cromwell, who commanded the parliament's right wing, charged Sir +Marmaduke Langdale with extraordinary fury; but he, an old tried +soldier, stood firm, and received the charge with equal gallantry, +exchanging all their shot, carabines, and pistols, and then fell on +sword in hand, Roseter and Whaley had the better on the point of +the wing, and routed two divisions of horse, pushed them behind the +reserves, where they rallied, and charged again, but were at last +defeated; the rest of the horse, now charged in the flank, retreated +fighting, and were pushed behind the reserves of foot. + +While this was doing, the foot engaged with equal fierceness, and for +two hours there was a terrible fire. The king's foot, backed with +gallant officers, and full of rage at the rout of their horse, bore +down the enemy's brigade led by Skippon. The old man wounded, bleeding, +retreats to their reserves. All the foot, except the general's brigade, +were thus driven into the reserves, where their officers rallied them, +and brought them on to a fresh charge; and here the horse having driven +our horse above a quarter of a mile from the foot, face about, and fall +in on the rear of the foot. + +Had our right wing done thus, the day had been secured; but Prince +Rupert, according to his custom, following the flying enemy, never +concerned himself with the safety of those behind; and yet he returned +sooner than he had done in like cases too. At our return we found all in +confusion, our foot broken, all but one brigade, which, though charged +in the front, flank, and rear, could not be broken, till Sir Thomas +Fairfax himself came up to the charge with fresh men, and then they +were rather cut in pieces than beaten; for they stood with their pikes +charged every way to the last extremity. + +In this condition, at the distance of a quarter of a mile, we saw the +king rallying his horse, and preparing to renew the fight; and our wing +of horse coming up to him, gave him opportunity to draw up a large body +of horse; so large, that all the enemy's horse facing us, stood still +and looked on, but did not think fit to charge us, till their foot, who +had entirely broken our main battle, were put into order again, and +brought up to us. + +The officers about the king advised his majesty rather to draw off; for, +since our foot were lost, it would be too much odds to expose the horse +to the fury of their whole army, and would be but sacrificing his best +troops, without any hopes of success. + +The king, though with great regret at the loss of his foot, yet seeing +there was no other hope, took this advice, and retreated in good order +to Harborough, and from thence to Leicester. + +This was the occasion of the enemy having so great a number of +prisoners; for the horse being thus gone off, the foot had no means +to make their retreat, and were obliged to yield themselves. +Commissary-General Ireton being taken by a captain of foot, makes the +captain his prisoner, to save his life, and gives him his liberty for +his courtesy before. + +Cromwell and Roseter, with all the enemy's horse, followed us as far as +Leicester, and killed all that they could lay hold on straggling from +the body, but durst not attempt to charge us in a body. The +king expecting the enemy would come to Leicester, removes to +Ashby-de-la-Zouch, where we had some time to recollect ourselves. + +This was the most fatal action of the whole war; not so much for the +loss of our cannon, ammunition, and baggage, of which the enemy boasted +so much, but as it was impossible for the king ever to retrieve it. The +foot, the best that he was ever master of, could never be supplied; his +army in the west was exposed to certain ruin; the north overrun with the +Scots; in short, the case grew desperate, and the king was once upon the +point of bidding us all disband, and shift for ourselves. + +We lost in this fight not above two thousand slain, and the parliament +near as many, but the prisoners were a great number; the whole body of +foot being, as I have said, dispersed, there were four thousand five +hundred prisoners, besides four hundred officers, two thousand horses, +twelve pieces of cannon, forty barrels of powder; all the king's +baggage, coaches, most of his servants, and his secretary; with his +cabinet of letters, of which the parliament made great improvement, and, +basely enough, caused his private letters between his majesty and the +queen, her majesty's letters to the king, and a great deal of such +stuff, to be printed. + + DEFOE. + + + +[Note: _The battle of Naseby_, fought on June 14th, 1645. The king's +forces were routed, and his cannon and baggage fell into the enemy's +hands. Not only was the loss heavy, but it was made more serious by his +correspondence falling into the hands of the parliamentary leaders, +which exposed his dealings with the Irish Roman Catholics. The most +remarkable point about this description is the air of reality which +Defoe gives to his account of an event which took place nearly twenty +years before his birth.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +THE PILGRIMS AND GIANT DESPAIR. + +Now there was, not far from the place where they lay, a castle, called +Doubting Castle, the owner whereof was Giant Despair, and it was in his +grounds they now were sleeping; wherefore he, getting up in the morning +early, and walking up and down in his fields, caught Christian and +Hopeful asleep in his grounds. Then with a grim and surly voice he bid +them awake, and asked them whence they were, and what they did in his +grounds. They told him that they were pilgrims, and that they had lost +their way. Then said the giant. You have this night trespassed on me by +trampling in and lying on my grounds, and therefore you must go along +with me. So they were forced to go, because he was stronger than they. +They also had but little to say, for they knew themselves in a fault. +The giant, therefore, drove them before him, and put them into his +castle, into a very dark dungeon, nasty, and loathsome to the spirits of +these two men. Here, then, they lay from Wednesday morning till Saturday +night, without one bit of bread or drop of drink, or light, or any to +ask how they did; they were, therefore, here in evil case, and were far +from friends and acquaintance. Now, in this place Christian had double +sorrow, because it was through his unadvised haste that they were +brought into this distress. + +Now Giant Despair had a wife, and her name was Diffidence; so when he +was gone to bed, he told his wife what he had done, to wit, that he +had taken a couple of prisoners, and cast them into his dungeon for +trespassing on his grounds. Then he asked her also what he had best to +do further to them. So she asked him what they were, whence they came, +and whither they were bound, and he told her. Then she counselled him, +that when he arose in the morning he should beat them without mercy. So +when he arose, he getteth him a grievous crabtree cudgel, and goes down +into the dungeon to them, and there first falls to rating of them as if +they were dogs, although they never gave him a word of distaste. Then he +falls upon them, and beats them fearfully, in such sort that they were +not able to help themselves, or to turn them upon the floor. This done, +he withdraws, and leaves them there to condole their misery, and to +mourn under their distress: so all that day they spent their time in +nothing but sighs and bitter lamentations. The next night, she, talking +with her husband further about them, and understanding that they were +yet alive, did advise him to counsel them to make away with themselves. +So when morning was come, he goes to them in a surly manner, as before, +and perceiving them to be very sore with the stripes that he had given +them the day before, he told them, that since they were never like to +come out of that place, their only way would be forthwith to make an end +of themselves, either with knife, halter, or poison; for why, said +he, should you choose to live, seeing it is attended with so much +bitterness? But they desired him to let them go. With that he looked +ugly upon them, and, rushing to them, had doubtless made an end of them +himself, but that he fell into one of his fits (for he sometimes, in +sunshiny weather, fell into fits), and lost for a time the use of his +hands; wherefore he withdrew, and left them as before to consider what +to do. + +Well, towards evening the giant goes down into the dungeon again, to see +if his prisoners had taken his counsel. But when he came there, he found +them alive; and, truly, alive was all; for now, what for want of bread +and water, and by reason of the wounds they received when he beat them, +they could do little but breathe. But, I say, he found them alive; at +which he fell into a grievous rage, and told them, that seeing they had +disobeyed his counsel, it should be worse with them than if they had +never been born. + +At this they trembled greatly, and I think that Christian fell into +a swoon: but coming a little to himself again, they renewed their +discourse about the giant's counsel, and whether yet they had best take +it or no. + +Now night being come again, and the giant and his wife being in bed, she +asked him concerning the prisoners, and if they had taken his counsel; +to which he replied. They are sturdy rogues; they choose rather to bear +all hardships than to make away with themselves. Then said she, Take +them into the castle-yard to-morrow, and show them the bones and skulls +of those that thou hast already despatched, and make them believe, ere a +week comes to an end, thou wilt tear them in pieces, as thou hast done +their fellows before them. + +So when the morning was come, the giant goes to them again, and takes +them into the castle-yard, and shows them as his wife had bidden him. +These, said he, were pilgrims as you are once, and they trespassed on my +grounds as you have done; and when I thought fit, I tore them in pieces; +and so within ten days I will do you. Go get you down to your den again. +And with that he beat them all the way thither. They lay therefore all +day on Saturday in lamentable case as before. Now when night was come, +and when Mrs. Diffidence and her husband the giant were got to bed, they +began to renew their discourse of the prisoners; and withal the old +giant wondered that he could neither by his blows nor counsel bring them +to an end. And with that his wife replied, I fear, said she, that they +live in hopes that some will come to relieve them, or that they have +picklocks about them, by the means of which they hope to escape. And +sayest thou so, my dear? said the giant; I will therefore search them in +the morning. + +Well, on Saturday about midnight, they began to pray, and continued in +prayer till almost break of day. + +Now, a little before it was day, good Christian, as one half amazed, +broke out into this passionate speech: What a fool, quoth he, am I, to +lie in a dungeon, when I may as well walk at liberty! I have a key in +my bosom called Promise, that will, I am persuaded, open any lock in +Doubtful Castle. Then said Hopeful, That's good news; good brother, +pluck it out of thy bosom and try. + +Then Christian pulled it out of his bosom, and began to try at the +dungeon-door, whose bolt, as he turned the key, gave back, and the door +flew open with ease, and Christian and Hopeful both came out. Then he +went to the outward door that leads into the castle-yard, and with his +key opened that door also. After that he went to the iron gate, for that +must be opened too, but that lock went desperately hard, yet the key did +open it. Then they thrust open the gate to make their escape with speed; +but that gate, as it opened, made such a creaking, that it waked Giant +Despair, who, hastily rising to pursue his prisoners, felt his limbs to +fail; for his fits took him again, so that he could by no means go after +them. Then, they went on, and came to the king's highway again, and so +were safe, because they were out of his jurisdiction. + + BUNYAN. + + + +[Note: _John Bunyan_ (1628-1688), the Puritan tinker, author of the +'Pilgrim's Progress,'] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + + THE WINTER EVENING. + + + Hark! 'tis the twanging horn o'er yonder bridge, + That with its wearisome but needful length + Bestrides the wintry flood, in which the moon + Sees her unwrinkled face reflected bright!-- + He comes, the herald of a noisy world, + With spatter'd boots, strapped waist, and frozen locks! + News from all nations lumb'ring at his back. + True to his charge, the close-pack'd load behind. + Yet careless what he brings, his one concern + Is to conduct it to the destined inn; + And, having dropp'd th' expected bag, pass on. + He whistles as he goes, light-hearted wretch, + Cold and yet cheerful: messenger of grief + Perhaps to thousands, and of joy to some; + To him indiff'rent whether grief or joy. + Houses in ashes, and the fall of stocks, + Births, deaths, and marriages, epistles wet + With tears, that trickled down the writer's cheeks + Fast as the periods from his fluent quill. + Or charged with am'rous sighs of absent swains, + Or nymphs responsive, equally affect + His horse and him, unconscious of them all. + But oh the important budget; usher'd in + With such heart-shaking music, who can say + What are its tidings? have our troops awak'd? + Or do they still, as if with opium drugged, + Snore to the murmurs of the Atlantic wave? + Is India free? and does she wear her plumed + And jewell'd turban with a smile of peace, + Or do we grind her still? The grand debate, + The popular harangue, the tart reply, + The logic, and the wisdom, and the wit, + And the loud laugh--I long to know them all; + I burn to set the imprison'd wranglers free, + And give them voice and utt'rance once again. + + Now stir the fire, and close the shutters fast, + Let fall the curtains, wheel the sofa round, + And, while the bubbling and loud hissing urn + Throws up a steamy column, and the cups + That cheer, but not inebriate, wait on each, + So let us welcome peaceful evening in. + Not such his evening, who with shining face + Sweats in the crowded theatre, and, squeez'd + And bor'd with elbow-points through both his sides. + Outscolds the ranting actor on the stage; + Nor his, who patient stands till his feet throb. + And his head thumps, to feed upon the breath + Of patriots bursting with heroic rage, + Or placemen, all tranquillity and smiles. + This folio of four pages, happy work! + Which not e'en critics criticise; that holds + Inquisitive attention, while I read. + Fast bound in chains of silence, which the fair, + Though eloquent themselves, yet fear to break: + What is it, but a map of busy life, + Its fluctuations, and its vast concerns? + Here runs the mountainous and craggy ridge, + That tempts ambition. On the summit, see, + The seals of office glitter in his eyes; + He climbs, he pants, he grasps them! At his heels. + Close at his heels, a demagogue ascends, + And with a dext'rous jerk, soon twists him + And wins them, but to lose them in his turn. + Here rills of oily eloquence in soft + Meanders lubricate the course they take; + The modest speaker is asham'd and grieved + To engross a moment's notice; and yet begs. + Begs a propitious ear for his poor thoughts, + However trivial all that he conceives. + Sweet bashfulness! it claims at least this praise; + The dearth of information and good sense, + That it foretells us, always comes to pass. + Cataracts of declamation thunder here; + There forests of no meaning spread the page, + In which all comprehension wanders lost; + While fields of pleasantry amuse us there + With merry descants on a nation's woes. + The rest appears a wilderness of strange + But gay confusion; roses for the cheeks, + And lilies for the brows of faded age, + Teeth for the toothless, ringlets for the bald, + Heaven, earth, and ocean, plunder'd of their sweets, + Nectareous essences, Olympian dews, + Sermons, and city feasts, and fav'rite airs, + Ethereal journeys, submarine exploits. + And Katerfelto, with his hair on end + At his own wonders, wond'ring for his bread. + + 'Tis pleasant, through the loopholes of retreat, + To peep at such a world; to see the stir + Of the great Babel, and not feel the crowd; + To hear the roar she sends through all her gates + At a safe distance, where the dying sound + Falls a soft murmur on the uninjur'd ear. + Thus sitting, and surveying thus at ease + The globe and its concerns, I seem advanc'd + To some secure and more than mortal height. + That liberates and exempts me from them all + It turns submitted to my view, turns round + With all its generations; I behold + The tumult, and am still. The sound of war + Has lost its terrors ere it reaches me; + Grieves, but alarms me not. I mourn the pride + And avarice that make man a wolf to man; + Hear the faint echo of those brazen throats + By which he speaks the language of his heart, + And sigh, but never tremble at the bound. + He travels and expatiates, as the bee + From flower to flower, so he from land to land: + The manners, customs, policy, of all + Pay contribution to the store he gleans; + He sucks intelligence in every clinic, + And spreads the honey of his deep research + At his return--a rich repast for me. + He travels, and I too. I tread his deck, + Ascend his topmast, through his peering eyes + Discover countries, with a kindred heart + Suffer his woes, and share in his escapes; + While fancy, like the finger of a clock, + Runs the great circuit, and is still at home. + + COWPER. + + + +[Note:_Katerfelto_. A quack then exhibiting in London.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +A HARD WINTER. + + +There were some circumstances attending the remarkable frost of January +1776 so singular and striking, that a short detail of them may not be +unacceptable. + +The most certain way to be exact will be to copy the passages from my +journal, which were taken from time to time, as things occurred. But it +may be proper previously to remark, that the first week in January was +uncommonly wet, and drowned with vast rain from every quarter; from +whence may be inferred, as there is great reason to believe is the case, +that intense frosts seldom take place till the earth is completely +glutted and chilled with water; and hence dry autumns are seldom +followed by rigorous winters. + +January 7th.--Snow driving all the day, which was followed by frost, +sleet, and some snow, till the twelfth, when a prodigious mass +overwhelmed all the works of men, drifting over the tops of the gates, +and filling the hollow lanes. + +On the 14th, the writer was obliged to be much abroad; and thinks he +never before, or since, has encountered such rugged Siberian weather. +Many of the narrow roads are now filled above the tops of the hedges; +through which the snow was driven in most romantic and grotesque shapes, +so striking to the imagination as not to be seen without wonder and +pleasure. The poultry dared not stir out of their roosting-places; for +cocks and hens are so dazzled and confounded by the glare of the snow, +that they would soon perish without assistance. The hares also lay +sullenly in their seats, and would not move till compelled by hunger; +being conscious, poor animals, that the drifts and heaps treacherously +betray their footsteps, and prove fatal to numbers of them. + +From the 14th, the snow continued to increase, and began to stop the +road-waggons and coaches, which could no longer keep in their regular +stages; and especially on the western roads, where the fall appears to +have been greater than in the south. The company at Bath, that wanted to +attend the Queen's birthday, were strangely incommoded; many carriages +of persons who got, in their way to town from Bath, as far as +Marlborough, after strange embarrassment, here came to a dead stop. The +ladies fretted, and offered large rewards to labourers if they would +shovel them a track to London; but the relentless heaps of snow were too +bulky to be removed; and so the 18th passed over, leaving the company in +very uncomfortable circumstances at the _Castle_ and other inns. + +On the 20th, the sun shone out for the first time since the frost +began; a circumstance that has been remarked before, much in favour +of vegetation. All this time the cold was not very intense, for the +thermometer stood at 29 deg., 28 deg. 25 deg. and thereabout; but on the 21st it +descended to 20 deg.. The birds now began to be in a very pitiable and +starving condition. Tamed by the season, sky-larks settled in the +streets of towns, because they saw the ground was bare; rooks frequented +dung-hills close to houses; hares now came into men's gardens, and +scraping away the snow, devoured such plants as they could find. + +On the 22nd, the author had occasion to go to London; through a sort +of Laplandian scene very wild and grotesque indeed. But the metropolis +itself exhibited a still more singular appearance than the country; for, +being bedded deep in snow, the pavement could not be touched by the +wheels or the horses' feet, so that the carriages ran about without the +least noise. Such an exemption from din and clatter was strange, but not +pleasant; it seemed to convey an uncomfortable idea of desolation. + +On the 27th, much snow fell all day, and in the evening the frost became +very intense. At South Lambeth, for the four following nights, the +thermometer fell to 11 deg., 7 deg., 0 deg., 6 deg.; and at Selborne to 7 deg., 6 deg., 10 deg.; and +on the 31st of January, just before sunrise, with rime on the trees, and +on the tube of the glass, the quicksilver sunk exactly to zero, being +32 deg. below freezing point; but by eleven in the morning, though in the +shade, it sprung up to 16-1/2 deg.--a most unusual degree of cold this +for the south of England. During these four nights the cold was so +penetrating that it occasioned ice in warm and protected chambers; and +in the day the wind was so keen that persons of robust constitutions +could scarcely endure to face it. The Thames was at once so frozen over, +both above and below the bridge, that crowds ran about on the ice. The +streets were now strangely encumbered with snow, which crumbled and trod +dusty, mid, turning gray, resembled bay-salt; what had fallen on the +roofs was so perfectly dry, that from first to last it lay twenty-six +days on the houses in the city--a longer time than had been remembered +by the oldest housekeepers living. According to all appearances, we +might now have expected the continuance of this rigorous weather for +weeks to come, since every night increased in severity; but behold, +without any apparent on the 1st of February a thaw took place, and some +rain followed before night; making good the observation, that frosts +often go off, as it were, at once, without any gradual declension of +cold. On the 2nd of February, the thaw persisted; and on the 3rd, swarms +of little insects were frisking and sporting in a court-yard at South +Lambeth, as if they had felt no frost. Why the juices in the small +bodies and smaller limbs of such minute beings are not frozen, is a +matter of curious inquiry. + + REV. GILBERT WHITE. + + + +[Note: _Rev. Gilbert White_ (1720-1793), author of the 'Natural History +of Selborne,' one of the most charming books on natural history in the +language.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +A PORTENTOUS SUMMER. + + +The, summer of the year 1783 was an amazing and portentous one, and full +of horrible phenomena; for, besides the alarming meteors and tremendous +thunder and storms that affrighted and distressed the different counties +of this kingdom, the peculiar haze, or smoky fog, that prevailed for +many weeks in this island, and in every part of Europe, and even beyond +its limits, was a most extraordinary appearance, unlike anything known +within the memory of man. By my journal I find that I had noticed this +strange occurrence from June 23 to July 20 inclusive, during which +period the wind varied to every quarter, without making any alteration +in the air. The sun, at noon, looked as black as a clouded moon, and +shed a rust-coloured feruginous light on the ground and floors of +rooms, but was particularly lurid and blood-coloured at rising and +setting. All the time the heat was so intense that butchers' meat could +hardly be eaten the day after it was killed; and the flies swarmed so +in the lanes and hedges that they rendered the horses half frantic, and +riding irksome. The country-people began to look with a superstitious +awe at the red, lowering aspect of the sun; and, indeed, there was +reason for the most enlightened person to be apprehensive, for all the +while Calabria, and part of the isle of Sicily, were torn and convulsed +with earthquakes; and about that juncture a volcano sprang out of the +sea on the coast of Norway. On this occasion Milton's noble simile of +the sun, in his first book of 'Paradise Lost,' frequently occurred to +my mind; and it is indeed particularly applicable, because, towards the +end, it alludes to a superstitious kind of dread with which the minds of +men are always impressed by such strange and unusual phenomena:-- + + + "As when the sun, new risen, + Looks through the horizontal, misty air + Shorn of his beams; or, from behind the moon. + In dim eclipse, disastrous twilight sheds + On half the nations, and with fear of change + Perplexes monarchs." + + REV. GILBERT WHITE. + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +A THUNDERSTORM. + +On the 5th of June, 1784, the thermometer in the morning being at 64, +and at noon at 70, the barometer at 29.6 1/2, and the wind north, I +observed a blue mist, smelling strongly of sulphur, hang along our +sloping woods, and seeming to indicate that thunder was at hand. I was +called in about two in the afternoon, and so missed seeing the gathering +of the clouds in the north, which they who were abroad assured me had +something uncommon in its appearance. At about a quarter after two the +storm began in the parish of Hartley, moving slowly from north to south; +and from thence it came over Norton Farm and so to Grange Farm, both in +this parish. It began with vast drops of rain, which were soon succeeded +by round hail, and then by convex pieces of ice, which measured three +inches in girth. Had it been as extensive as it was violent, and of +any continuance (for it was very short), it must have ravaged all the +neighbourhood. In the parish of Hartley it did some damage to one farm; +but Norton, which lay in the centre of the storm, was greatly injured; +as was Grange, which lay next to it. It did but just reach to the middle +of the village, where the hail broke my north windows, and all my garden +lights and hand-glasses, and many of my neighbours' windows. The extent +of the storm was about two miles in length, and one in breadth. We were +just sitting down to dinner; but were soon diverted from our repast by +the clattering of tiles and the jingling of glass. There fell at the +same time prodigious torrents of rain on the farm above mentioned, which +occasioned a flood as violent as it was sudden, doing great damage to +the meadows and fallows by deluging the one and washing away the soil of +the other. The hollow lane towards Alton was so torn and disordered as +not to be passable till mended, rocks being removed that weighed two +hundredweight. Those that saw the effect which the great hail had on the +ponds and pools, say that the dashing of the water made an extraordinary +appearance, the froth and spray standing up in the air three feet above +the surface. The rushing and roaring of the hail, as it approached, was +truly tremendous. + +Though the clouds at South Lambeth, near London, were at that juncture +thin and light, and no storm was in sight, nor within hearing, yet the +air was strongly electric; for the bells of an electric machine at that +place rang repeatedly, and fierce sparks were discharged. + + REV. GILBERT WHITE. + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +CHARACTER OF SIR WALTER SCOTT. + + +About half-past one P.M. on the 21st of September, 1832, Sir Walter +Scott breathed his last, in the presence of all his children. It was +a beautiful day--so warm, that every window was wide open--and so +perfectly still, that the sound of all others most delicious to his ear, +the gentle ripple of the Tweed over its pebbles, was distinctly audible +as we knelt around the bed, and his eldest son kissed and closed his +eyes. No sculptor ever modelled a more majestic image of repose. + +It will, I presume, be allowed that no human character, which we have +the opportunity of studying with equal minuteness, had fewer faults +mixed up in its texture. The grand virtue of fortitude, the basis of all +others, was never displayed in higher perfection than in him; and +it was, as perhaps true courage always is, combined with an equally +admirable spirit of kindness and humanity. His pride, if we must call it +so, undebased by the least tincture of mere vanity, was intertwined with +a most exquisite charity, and was not inconsistent with true humility. +If ever the principle of kindliness was incarnated in a mere man, it +was in him; and real kindliness can never be but modest. In the social +relations of life, where men are most effectually tried, no spot can be +detected in him. He was a patient, dutiful, reverent son; a generous, +compassionate, tender husband; an honest, careful, and most affectionate +father. Never was a more virtuous or a happier fireside than his. The +influence of his mighty genius shadowed it imperceptibly; his calm good +sense, and his angelic sweetness of heart and temper, regulated and +softened a strict but paternal discipline. His children, as they grew +up, understood by degrees the high privilege of their birth; but the +profoundest sense of his greatness never disturbed their confidence in +his goodness. The buoyant play of his spirits made him sit young among +the young; parent and son seemed to live in brotherhood together; +and the chivalry of his imagination threw a certain air of courteous +gallantry into his relations with his daughters, which gave a very +peculiar grace to the fondness of their intercourse. + +Perhaps the most touching evidence of the lasting tenderness of his +early domestic feelings was exhibited to his executors, when they opened +his repositories in search of his testament, the evening after his +burial. On lifting up his desk we found arranged in careful order a +series of little objects, which had obviously been so placed there that +his eye might rest on them every morning before he began his tasks. +These were the old-fashioned boxes that had garnished his mother's +toilet when he, a sickly child, slept in her dressing-room; the silver +taper-stand which the young advocate had bought for her with his first +five-guinea fee; a row of small packets inscribed with her hand, and +containing the hair of those of her offspring that had died before her; +his father's snuff-box and pencil-case; and more things of the like +sort, recalling the "old familiar faces." The same feeling was apparent +in all the arrangement of his private apartment. Pictures of his father +and mother were the only ones in his dressing-room. The clumsy antique +cabinets that stood there--things of a very different class from the +beautiful and costly productions in the public rooms below--had all +belonged to the furniture of George's Square. Even his father's rickety +washing-stand, with all its cramped appurtenances, though exceedingly +unlike what a man of his very scrupulous habits would have selected in +these days, kept its ground. Such a son and parent could hardly fail +in any of the other social relations. No man was a firmer or more +indefatigable friend. I know not that he ever lost one; and a few +with whom, during the energetic middle stage of life, from political +differences or other accidental circumstances, he lived less familiarly, +had all gathered round him, and renewed the full warmth of early +affection in his later days. There was enough to dignify the connexion +in their eyes; but nothing to chill it on either side. The imagination +that so completely mastered him when he chose to give her the rein, was +kept under most determined control when any of the positive obligations +of active life came into question. A high and pure sense of duty +presided over whatever he had to do as a citizen and a magistrate; and, +as a landlord, he considered his estate as an extension of his hearth. + + J. LOCKHART. + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +MUMPS'S HALL. + + +There is, or rather I should say there _was_, a little inn, called +Mumps's Hall--that is, being interpreted, Beggar's Hotel--near to +Gilsland, which had not then attained its present fame as a Spa. It +was a hedge alehouse, where the Border farmers of either country often +stopped to refresh themselves and their nags, in their way to and from +the fairs and trysts in Cumberland, and especially those who came from +or went to Scotland, through a barren and lonely district, without +either road or pathway, emphatically called the Waste of Bewcastle. At +the period when the adventure about to be described is supposed to have +taken place, there were many instances of attacks by freebooters, on +those who travelled through this wild district; and Mumps's Hall had +a bad reputation for harbouring the banditti who committed such +depredations. + +An old and sturdy yeoman belonging to the Scottish side, by surname an +Armstrong or Elliot, but well known by his sobriquet of Fighting Charlie +of Liddesdale, and still remembered for the courage he displayed in +the frequent frays which took place on the Border fifty or sixty years +since, had the following adventure in the Waste, one of many which gave +its character to the place:-- + +Charlie had been at Stagshaw-bank fair, had sold his sheep or cattle, or +whatever he had brought to market, and was on his return to Liddesdale. +There were then no country banks where cash could be deposited, and +bills received instead, which greatly encouraged robbery in that wild +country, as the objects of plunder were usually fraught with gold. The +robbers had spies in the fair, by means of whom they generally knew +whose purse was best stocked, and who took a lonely and desolate road +homeward--those, in short, who were best worth robbing, and likely to be +most easily robbed. + +All this Charlie knew full well; but he had a pair of excellent pistols, +and a dauntless heart. He stopped at Mumps's Hall, notwithstanding the +evil character of the place. His horse was accommodated where it might +have the necessary rest and feed of corn; and the landlady used all the +influence in her power to induce him to stop all night. The landlord was +from home, she said, and it was ill passing the Waste, as twilight must +needs descend on him before he gained the Scottish side, which was +reckoned the safest. But fighting Charlie, though he suffered himself to +be detained later than was prudent, did not account Mumps's Hall a safe +place to quarter in during the night. He tore himself away, therefore, +from Meg's good fare and kind words, and mounted his nag, having first +examined his pistols, and tried by the ramrod whether the charge +remained in them. + +He proceeded a mile or two, at a round trot, when, as the Waste +stretched black before him, apprehensions began to awaken in his mind, +partly arising out of Meg's unusual kindness, which he could not help +thinking had rather a suspicious appearance. He therefore resolved to +reload his pistols, lest the powder had become damp; but what was his +surprise, when he drew the charge, to find neither powder nor ball, +while each barrel had been carefully filled with _tow_, up to the space +which the loading had occupied! and, the priming of the weapons being +left untouched, nothing but actually drawing and examining the charge +could have discovered the inefficiency of his arms till the fatal minute +arrived when their services were required. Charlie reloaded his pistols +with care and accuracy, having now no doubt that he was to be waylaid +and assaulted. He was not far engaged in the Waste, which was then, and +is now, traversed only by such routes as are described in the text, when +two or three fellows, disguised and variously armed, started from a +moss-hag, while, by a glance behind him (for, marching, as the Spaniard +says, with his beard on his shoulder, he reconnoitred in every +direction), Charlie instantly saw retreat was impossible, as other two +stout men appeared behind him at some distance. The Borderer lost not a +moment in taking his resolution, and boldly trotted against his enemies +in front, who called loudly on him to stand and deliver. Charlie spurred +on, and presented his pistol. "A fig for your pistol!" said the foremost +robber, whom Charlie to his dying day protested he believed to have been +the landlord of Mumps's Hall--"A fig for your pistol! I care not a curse +for it."--"Ay, lad," said the deep voice of Fighting Charlie, "but the +_tow's out now_". He had no occasion to utter another word; the rogues, +surprised at finding a man of redoubted courage well armed, instead of +being defenceless, took to the moss in every direction, and he passed on +his way without further molestation. + + SCOTT. + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +THE PORTEOUS MOB. + + +The magistrates, after vain attempts to make themselves heard and +obeyed, possessing no means of enforcing their authority, were +constrained to abandon the field to the rioters, and retreat in all +speed from the showers of missiles that whistled around their ears. + +The passive resistance of the Tolbooth-gate promised to do more to +baffle the purpose of the mob than the active interference of the +magistrates. The heavy sledge-hammers continued to din against it +without intermission, and with a noise which, echoed from the lofty +buildings around the spot, seemed enough to have alarmed the garrison in +the Castle. It was circulated among the rioters that the troops would +march down to disperse them, unless they could execute their purpose +without loss of time; or that even without quitting the fortress, the +garrison might obtain the same end by throwing a bomb or two upon the +street. + +Urged by such motives for apprehension, they eagerly relieved each other +at the labour of assailing the Tolbooth door; yet such was its strength, +that it still defied their efforts. At length, a voice was heard to +pronounce the words, "Try it with fire!" The rioters, with an unanimous +shout, called for combustibles, and as all their wishes seemed to be +instantly supplied, they were soon in possession of two or three empty +tar-barrels. A huge red glaring bonfire speedily arose close to the door +of the prison, sending up a tall column of smoke and flame against +its antique turrets and strongly-grated windows, and illuminating the +ferocious and wild gestures of the rioters who surrounded the place, as +well as the pale and anxious groups of those who, from windows in the +vicinage, watched the progress of this alarming scene. The mob fed the +fire with whatever they could find fit for the purpose. The flames +roared and crackled among the heaps of nourishment piled on the fire, +and a terrible shout soon announced that the door had kindled, and was +in the act of being destroyed. The fire was suffered to decay, but, long +ere it was quite extinguished, the most forward of the rioters rushed, +in their impatience, one after another, over its yet smouldering +remains. Thick showers of sparkles rose high in the air, as man after +man bounded over the glowing embers, and disturbed them in their +passage. It was now obvious to Butler, and all others who were present, +that the rioters would be instantly in possession of their victim, and +have it in their power to work their pleasure upon him, whatever that +might be. + +The unhappy object of this remarkable disturbance had been that day +delivered from the apprehension of a public execution, and his joy was +the greater, as he had some reason to question whether government would +have run the risk of unpopularity by interfering in his favour, after he +had been legally convicted by the verdict of a jury, of a crime so very +obnoxious. Relieved from this doubtful state of mind, his heart was +merry within him, and he thought, in the emphatic words of Scripture on +a similar occasion, that surely the bitterness of death was past. Some +of his friends, however, who had watched the manner and behaviour of +the crowd when they were made acquainted with the reprieve, were of a +different opinion. They augured, from the unusual sternness and silence +with which they bore their disappointment, that the populace nourished +some scheme of sudden and desperate vengeance; and they advised Porteous +to lose no time in petitioning the proper authorities, that he might +be conveyed to the Castle under a sufficient guard, to remain there +in security until his ultimate fate should be determined. Habituated, +however, by his office to overawe the rabble of the city, Porteous could +not suspect them of an attempt so audacious as to storm a strong and +defensible prison; and, despising the advice by which he might have +been saved, he spent the afternoon of the eventful day in giving an +entertainment to some friends who visited him in jail, several of whom, +by the indulgence of the Captain of the Tolbooth, with whom he had +an old intimacy, arising from their official connection, were even +permitted to remain to supper with him, though contrary to the rules of +the jail. + +It was, therefore, in the hour of unalloyed mirth, when this unfortunate +wretch was "full of bread," hot with wine, and high in mis-timed and +ill-grounded confidence, and, alas! with all his sins full blown, +when the first distant shouts of the rioters mingled with the song +of merriment and intemperance. The hurried call of the jailor to the +guests, requiring them instantly to depart, and his yet more hasty +intimation that a dreadful and determined mob had possessed themselves +of the city gates and guard-house, were the first explanation of these +fearful clamours. + +Porteous might, however, have eluded the fury from which the force of +authority could not protect him, had he thought of slipping on some +disguise, and leading the prison along with his guests. It is probable +that the jailor might have connived at his escape, or even that, in the +hurry of this alarming contingency, he might not have observed it. But +Porteous and his friends alike wanted presence of mind to suggest or +execute such a plan of escape. The former hastily fled from a place +where their own safety seemed compromised, and the latter, in a state +resembling stupefaction, awaited in his apartment the termination of the +enterprise of the rioters. The cessation of the clang of the instruments +with which they had at first attempted to force the door, gave him +momentary relief. The flattering hopes that the military had marched +into the city, either from the Castle or from the suburbs, and that the +rioters were intimidated and dispersing, were soon destroyed by the +broad and glaring-light of the flames, which, illuminating through the +grated window every corner of his apartment, plainly showed that the +mob, determined on their fatal purpose, had adopted a means of forcing +entrance equally desperate and certain. + +The sudden glare of light suggested to the stupefied and astonished +object of popular hatred the possibility of concealment or escape. To +rush to the chimney, to ascend it at the risk of suffocation, were the +only means which seem to have occurred to him; but his progress was +speedily stopped by one of those iron gratings, which are, for the sake +of security, usually placed across the vents of buildings designed for +imprisonment. The bars, however, which impeded his farther progress, +served to support him in the situation which he had gained, and he +seized them with the tenacious grasp of one who esteemed himself +clinging to his last hope of existence. The lurid light, which had +filled the apartment, lowered and died away; the sound of shouts was +heard within the walls, and on the narrow and winding stair, which, +cased within one of the turrets, gave access to the upper apartments of +the prison. The huzza of the rioters was answered by a shout wild and +desperate as their own, the cry, namely, of the imprisoned felons, who, +expecting to be liberated in the general confusion, welcomed the mob as +their deliverers. By some of these the apartment of Porteous was +pointed out to his enemies. The obstacle of the lock and bolts was +soon overcome, and from his hiding-place the unfortunate man heard +his enemies search every corner of the apartment, with oaths and +maledictions, which would but shock the reader if we recorded them, but +which served to prove, could it have admitted of doubt, the settled +purpose of soul with which they sought his destruction. + +A place of concealment so obvious to suspicion and scrutiny as that +which Porteous had chosen, could not long screen him from detection. +He was dragged from his lurking place, with a violence which seemed to +argue an intention to put him to death on the spot. More than one weapon +was directed towards him, when one of the rioters, the same whose female +disguise had been particularly noticed by Butler, interfered in an +authoritative tone. "Are ye mad?" he said, "or would ye execute an act +of justice as if it were a crime and a cruelty? This sacrifice will lose +half its savour if we do not offer it at the very horns of the altar. We +will have him die where a murderer should die, on the common gibbet--we +will have him die where he spilled the blood of so many innocents!" + +A loud shout of applause followed the proposal, and the cry, "To the +gallows with the murderer!--to the Grassmarket with him!" echoed on all +hands. + +"Let no man hurt him," continued the speaker; "let him make his peace +with God, if he can; we will not kill both his soul and body." + +"What time did he give better folk for preparing their account?" +answered several voices. "Let us mete to him with the same measure he +measured to them." + +But the opinion of the spokesman better suited the temper of those +he addressed, a temper rather stubborn than impetuous, sedate though +ferocious, and desirous of colouring their cruel and revengeful action +with a show of justice and moderation. + + SCOTT. + + +[Notes: _The Porteous Mob_ occurred in 1736. At the execution of a +smuggler named Wilson, a slight commotion amongst the crowd was made by +Captain Porteous the occasion for ordering his men who were on guard to +fire upon the people. He was tried and sentenced to death, but reprieved +by Queen Caroline, then regent in the absence of George II. The reprieve +was held so unjust by the people that they stormed the Tolbooth, and +hanged Porteous, who was a prisoner there.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +THE PORTEOUS MOB--_continued._ + +The tumult was now transferred from the inside to the outside of the +Tolbooth. The mob had brought their destined victim forth, and were +about to conduct him to the common place of execution, which they had +fixed as the scene of his death. The leader, whom they had distinguished +by the name of Madge Wildfire, had been summoned to assist at the +procession by the impatient shouts of his confederates. + +"I will ensure you five hundred pounds," said the unhappy man, grasping +Wildfire's hand,--"five hundred pounds for to save my life." + +The other answered in the same undertone, and returning his grasp with +one equally convulsive. "Five hundred-height of coined gold should not +save you--Remember Wilson!" + +A deep pause of a minute ensued, when Wildfire added, in a more composed +tone, "Make your peace with Heaven. Where is the clergyman?" + +Butler, who, in great terror and anxiety, had been detained within a +few yards of the Tolbooth door, to wait the event of the search after +Porteous, was now brought forward, and commanded to walk by the +prisoner's side, and to prepare him for immediate death. + +They had suffered the unfortunate Porteous to put on his night-gown +and slippers, as he had thrown off his coat and shoes, in order to +facilitate his attempted escape up the chimney. In this garb he was now +mounted on the hands of two of the rioters, clasped together, so as to +form what is called in Scotland, "The King's Cushion." Butler was placed +close to his side, and repeatedly urged to perform a duty always the +most painful which can be imposed on a clergyman deserving of the name, +and now rendered more so by the peculiar and horrid circumstances of the +criminal's case. Porteous at first uttered some supplications for mercy, +but when he found that there was no chance that these would be attended +to, his military education, and the natural stubbornness of his +disposition, combined to support his spirits. + +The procession now moved forward with a slow and determined pace. It was +enlightened by many blazing links and torches; for the actors of this +work were so far from affecting any secrecy on the occasion, that they +seemed even to court observation. Their principal leaders kept close to +the person of the prisoner, whose pallid yet stubborn features were seen +distinctly by the torch-light, as his person was raised considerably +above the concourse which thronged around him. Those who bore swords, +muskets, and battle-axes, marched on each side, as if forming a regular +guard to the procession. The windows, as they went along, were filled +with the inhabitants, whose slumbers had boon broken by this unusual +disturbance. Some of the spectators muttered accents of encouragement; +but in general they were so much appalled by a sight so strange and +audacious, that they looked on with a sort of stupefied astonishment. No +one offered, by act or word, the slightest interruption. + +The rioters, on their part, continued to act with the same air +of deliberate confidence and security which had marked all their +proceedings. When the object of their resentment dropped one of his +slippers, they stopped, sought for it, and replaced it upon his foot +with great deliberation. As they descended the Bow towards the fatal +spot where they designed to complete their purpose, it was suggested +that there should be a rope kept in readiness. For this purpose the +booth of a man who dealt in cordage was forced open, a coil of rope fit +for their purpose was selected to serve as a halter, and the dealer next +morning found that a guinea had been left on his counter in exchange; so +anxious were the perpetrators of this daring action to show that they +meditated not the slightest wrong or infraction of law, excepting so far +so as Porteous was himself concerned. + +Leading, or carrying along with them, in this determined and regular +manner, the object of their vengeance, they at length reached the place +of common execution, the scene of his crime, and destined spot of +his sufferings. Several of the rioters (if they should not rather be +described as conspirators) endeavoured to remove the stone which filled +up the socket in which the end of the fatal tree was sunk when it +was erected for its fatal purpose; others sought for the means of +constructing a temporary gibbet, the place in which the gallows itself +was deposited being reported too secure to be forced, without much loss +of time. Butler endeavoured to avail himself of the delay afforded by +these circumstances, to turn the people from their desperate design. +"For God's sake," he exclaimed, "remember it is the image of your +Creator which you are about to deface in the person of this unfortunate +man! Wretched as he is, and wicked as he may be, he has a share in every +promise of Scripture, and you cannot destroy him in impenitence without +blotting his name from the Book of Life--Do not destroy soul and body; +give time for preparation." + +"What time had they," returned a stern voice, "whom he murdered on this +very spot?--The laws both of God and man call for his death." + +"But what, my friends," insisted Butler, with a generous disregard to +his own safety--"what hath constituted you his judges?" + +"We are not his judges," replied the same person; "he has been already +judged and condemned by lawful authority. We are those whom Heaven, and +our righteous anger, have stirred up to execute judgment, when a corrupt +government would have protected a murderer." + +"I am none," said the unfortunate Porteous: "that which you charge upon me +fell out in self-defence, in the lawful exercise of my duty." + +"Away with him--away with him!" was the general cry. "Why do you trifle +away time in making a gallows?--that dyester's pole is good enough for +the homicide." + +The unhappy man was forced to his fate with remorseless rapidity. +Butler, separated from him by the press, escaped the last horrors of +his struggles. Unnoticed by those who had hitherto detained him as a +prisoner, he fled from the fatal spot, without much caring in what +direction his course lay. A loud shout proclaimed the stern delight with +which the agents of this deed regarded its completion. Butler, then, +at the opening into the low street called the Cowgate, cast back a +terrified glance, and, by the red and dusky light of the torches, he +could discern a figure wavering and struggling as it hung suspended +above the heads of the multitude, and could even observe men striking at +it with their Lochaberaxes and partisans. The sight was of a nature to +double his horror, and to add wings to his flight. + + SCOTT. + + + + + * * * * * + + + + + MAZEPPA. + + + "'Bring forth the horse!'--the horse was brought; + In truth, he was a noble steed, + A Tartar of the Ukraine breed, + Who look'd as though the speed of thought + Were in his limbs; but he was wild, + Wild as the wild deer, and untaught, + With spur and bridle undefiled-- + 'T was but a day he had been caught; + And snorting, with erected mane, + And struggling fiercely, but in vain, + In the full foam of wrath and dread + To me the desert-born was led: + They bound me on, that menial throng; + Upon his back with many a thong; + Then loosed him with a sudden lash-- + Away!--away!--and on we dash! + Torrents less rapid and less rash. + + * * * * * + + "Away, away, my steed and I, + Upon the pinions of the wind, + All human dwellings left behind; + We sped like meteors through the sky, + When with its crackling sound the night + Is chequer'd with the northern light: + Town--village--none were on our track. + But a wild plain of far extent, + And bounded by a forest black; + And, save the scarce seen battlement + On distant heights of some stronghold, + Against the Tartars built of old, + No trace of man. The year before + A Turkish army had march'd o'er; + And where the Spahi's hoof hath trod, + The verdure flies the bloody sod: + The sky was dull, and dim, and gray, + And a low breeze crept moaning by-- + I could have answered with a sigh-- + But fast we fled, away, away, + And I could neither sigh nor pray; + And my cold sweat-drops fell like rain + Upon the courser's bristling mane; + But, snorting still with rage and fear, + He flew upon his far career: + At times I almost thought, indeed, + He must have slacken'd in his speed; + But no--my bound and slender frame + Was nothing to his angry might, + And merely like a spur became; + Each motion which I made to free + My swoln limbs from their agony + Increased his fury and affright: + I tried my voice,--'t was faint and low. + But yet he swerved as from a blow; + And, starting to each accent, sprang + As from a sudden trumpet's clang: + Meantime my cords were wet with gore, + Which, oozing through my limbs, ran o'er; + And in my tongue the thirst became + A something fiercer far than flame. + + "We near'd the wild wood--'t was so wide, + I saw no bounds on either side; + 'T was studded with old sturdy trees, + That bent not to the roughest breeze + Which howls down from Siberia's waste, + And strips the forest in its haste,-- + But these were few and far between, + Set thick with shrubs more young and green. + Luxuriant with their annual leaves, + Ere strown by those autumnal eves + That nip the forest's foliage dead, + Discolour'd with a lifeless red, + Which stands thereon like stiffen'd gore + Upon the slain when battle's o'er, + And some long winter's night hath shed + Its frost o'er every tombless head, + So cold and stark the raven's beak + May peck unpierced each frozen cheek: + 'T was a wild waste of underwood, + And here and there a chestnut stood, + The strong oak, and the hardy pine; + But far apart--and well it were, + Or else a different lot were mine-- + The boughs gave way, and did not tear + My limbs; and I found strength to bear + My wounds, already scarr'd with cold; + My bonds forbade to loose my hold. + We rustled through the leaves like wind, + Left shrubs, and trees, and wolves behind; + By night I heard them on the track, + Their troop came hard upon our back, + With their long gallop, which can tire + The hound's deep hate, and hunter's fire: + Where'er we flew they follow'd on, + Nor left us with the morning sun. + Behind I saw them, scarce a rood, + At day-break winding through the wood, + And through the night had heard their feet + Their stealing, rustling step repeat. + + * * * * * + + "The wood was past; 'twas more than noon, + But chill the air, although in June; + Or it might be my veins ran cold-- + Prolong'd endurance tames the bold; + And I was then not what I seem, + But headlong as a wintry stream, + And wore my feelings out before + I well could count their causes o'er: + And what with fury, fear, and wrath, + The tortures which beset my path, + Cold, hunger, sorrow, shame, distress. + Thus bound in nature's nakedness; + Sprung from a race whose rising blood, + When stirr'd beyond its calmer mood, + And trodden hard upon, is like + The rattle-snake's, in act to strike, + What marvel if this worn-out trunk + Beneath its woes a moment sunk? + The earth gave way, the skies roll'd round. + I seem'd to sink upon the ground; + But err'd, for I was fastly bound. + My heart turn'd sick, my brain grew sore. + And throbb'd awhile, then beat no more: + The skies spun like a mighty wheel; + I saw the trees like drunkards reel + And a slight flash sprang o'er my eyes, + Which saw no farther: he who dies + Can die no more than then I died. + O'ertortured by that ghastly ride, + I felt the blackness come and go. + + "My thoughts came back; where was I? + Cold, + And numb, and giddy: pulse by pulse + Life reassumed its lingering hold, + And throb by throb,--till grown a pang + Which for a moment would convulse, + My blood reflow'd, though thick and chill; + My ear with uncouth noises rang, + My heart began once more to thrill; + My sight return'd, though dim; alas! + And thicken'd, as it were, with glass. + Methought the dash of waves was nigh; + There was a gleam too of the sky, + Studded with stars;--it is no dream; + The wild horse swims the wilder stream! + The bright broad river's gushing tide + Sleeps, winding onward, far and wide, + And we are half-way, struggling o'er + To yon unknown and silent shore. + The waters broke my hollow trance, + And with a temporary strength + My stiffen'd limbs were rebaptized. + My courser's broad breast proudly braves, + And dashes off the ascending waves. + We reach the slippery shore at length, + A haven I but little prized, + For all behind was dark and drear, + And all before was night and fear. + How many hours of night or day + In those suspended pangs I lay. + I could not tell; I scarcely knew + If this were human breath I drew. + + "With glossy skin and dripping mane, + And reeling limbs, and reeking flank, + The wild steed's sinewy nerves still strain + Up the repelling bank. + We gain the top: a boundless plain + Spreads through the shadow of the night, + And onward, onward, onward, seems, + Like precipices in our dreams + To stretch beyond the sight: + And here and there a speck of white, + Or scatter'd spot of dusky green. + In masses broke into the light. + As rose the moon upon my right: + But nought distinctly seen + In the dim waste would indicate + The omen of a cottage gate; + No twinkling taper from afar + Stood like a hospitable star: + Not even an ignis-fatuus rose + To make him merry with my woes: + That very cheat had cheer'd me then! + Although detected, welcome still, + Reminding me, through every ill, + Of the abodes of men. + + "Onward we went--but slack and slow; + His savage force at length o'erspent, + The drooping courser, faint and low, + All feebly foaming went. + A sickly infant had had power + To guide him forward in that hour; + But useless all to me: + His new-born tameness nought avail'd-- + My limbs were bound; my force had fail'd, + Perchance, had they been free. + With feeble effort still I tried + To rend the bonds so starkly tied, + But still it was in vain; + My limbs were only wrung the more, + And soon the idle strife gave o'er, + Which but prolonged their pain: + The dizzy race seem'd almost done, + Although no goal was nearly won: + Rome streaks announced the coming sun-- + How slow, alas! he came! + Methought that mist of dawning gray + Would never dapple into day; + How heavily it roll'd away-- + Before the eastern flame + Rose crimson, and deposed the stars, + And call'd the radiance from their cars, + And fill'd the earth, from his deep throne. + "Up rose the sun; the mists were curl'd + Back from the solitary world + Which lay around, behind, before. + What booted it to traverse o'er + Plain, forest, river? Man nor brute, + Nor dint of hoof, nor print of foot, + Lay in the wild luxuriant soil; + No sign of travel, none of toil; + The very air was mute; + And not an insect's shrill small horn. + Nor matin bird's new voice was borne + From herb nor thicket. Many a werst, + Panting as if his heart would burst. + The weary brute still stagger'd on: + And still we were--or seem'd--alone. + At length, while reeling on our way. + Methought I heard a courser neigh, + From out yon tuft of blackening firs. + Is it the wind those branches stirs? + No, no! from out the forest prance + A trampling troop; I see them come! + In one vast squadron they advance! + I strove to cry--my lips were dumb. + The steeds rush on in plunging pride; + But where are they the reins to guide + A thousand horse, and none to ride! + With flowing tail, and flying mane, + Wide nostrils never stretch'd by pain, + Mouths bloodless to the bit of rein, + And feet that iron never shod, + And flanks unscarr'd by spur or rod, + A thousand horse, the wild, the free, + Like waves that follow o'er the sea, + Came thickly thundering on, + As if our faint approach to meet; + The sight re-nerved my courser's feet, + A moment staggering, feebly fleet, + A moment, with a faint low neigh, + He answer'd, and then fell; + With gasps and glaring eyes he lay, + And reeking limbs immoveable, + His first and last career is done! + On came the troop--they saw him stoop, + They saw me strangely bound along + His back with many a bloody thong: + They stop, they start, they snuff the air, + Gallop a moment here and there, + Approach, retire, wheel round and round, + Then plunging back with sudden bound, + Headed by one black mighty steed, + Who seem'd the patriarch of his breed, + Without a single speck or hair + Of white upon his shaggy hide; + They snort, they foam, neigh, swerve aside. + And backward to the forest fly, + By instinct, from a human eye. + They left me there to my despair, + Link'd to the dead and stiffening wretch, + Whose lifeless limbs beneath me stretch, + Believed from that unwonted weight, + From whence I could not extricate + Nor him nor me--and there we lay, + The dying on the dead! + I little deem'd another day + Would see my houseless, helpless head. + + BYRON. + + + +[Notes: _Mazeppa_ (1645-1709) was at first in the service of the King +of Poland, but on account of a charge brought against him suffered the +penalty described in the poem. He afterwards joined the Cossacks and +became their leader; was in favour for a time with Peter the Great; but +finally joined Charles XII., and died soon after the battle of Pultowa +(1709), in which Charles was defeated by Peter. + + +_Ukraine_ ("a frontier"), a district lying on the borders of Poland and +Russia. + + +_Werst_. A Russian measure of distance.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +JOSIAH WEDGWOOD. + + +We make our first introduction to Wedgwood about the year 1741, as the +youngest of a family of thirteen children, and as put to earn his bread, +at eleven years of age, in the trade of his father, and in the branch +of a thrower. Then comes the well-known small-pox: the settling of the +dregs of the disease in the lower part of the leg: and the amputation of +the limb, rendering him lame for life. It is not often that we have such +palpable occasion to record our obligations to the small-pox. But, in +the wonderful ways of Providence, that disease, which came to him as +a two-fold scourge, was probably the occasion of his subsequent +excellence. It prevented him from growing up to the active vigorous +English workman, possessed of all his limbs, and knowing right well the +use of them; it put him upon considering whether, as he could not be +that, he might not be something else, and something greater. It sent his +mind inwards; it drove him to meditate upon the laws and secrets of his +art. The result was, that he arrived at a perception and a grasp of them +which might, perhaps, have been envied, certainly have been owned, by an +Athenian potter. Relentless criticism has long since torn to pieces the +old legend of King Numa, receiving in a cavern, from the Nymph Egeria, +the laws that were to govern Rome. But no criticism can shake the record +of that illness and mutilation of the boy Josiah Wedgwood, which made +for him a cavern of his bedroom, and an oracle of his own inquiring, +searching, meditative, and fruitful mind. + +From those early days of suffering, weary perhaps to him as they went +by, but bright surely in the retrospect both to him and us, a mark seems +at once to have been set upon his career. But those, who would dwell +upon his history, have still to deplore that many of the materials are +wanting. It is not creditable to his country or his art, that the Life +of Wedgwood should still remain unwritten. Here is a man, who, in the +well-chosen words of his epitaph, "converted a rude and inconsiderable +manufacture into an elegant art, and an important branch of national +commerce." Here is a man, who, beginning as it were from zero, and +unaided by the national or royal gifts which were found necessary to +uphold the glories of Sevres, of Chelsea, and of Dresden, produced works +truer, perhaps, to the inexorable laws of art, than the fine fabrics +that proceeded from those establishments, and scarcely less attractive +to the public taste. Here is a man, who found his business cooped up +within a narrow valley by the want of even tolerable communications, +and who, while he devoted his mind to the lifting that business from +meanness, ugliness, and weakness, to the highest excellence of material +and form, had surplus energy enough to take a leading part in great +engineering works like the Grand Trunk Canal from the Mersey to the +Trent; which made the raw material of his industry abundant and cheap, +which supplied a vent for the manufactured article, and opened for it +materially a way to the outer world. Lastly, here is a man who found +his country dependent upon others for its supplies of all the finer +earthenware; but who, by his single strength, reversed the inclination +of the scales, and scattered thickly the productions of his factory over +all the breadth of the continent of Europe. In travelling from Paris to +St. Petersburg, from Amsterdam to the furthest point of Sweden, from +Dunkirk to the southern extremity of France, one is served at every inn +from English earthenware. The same article adorns the tables of Spain, +Portugal, and Italy; it provides the cargoes of ships to the East +Indies, the West Indies, and America. + + _Speech by_ MR. GLADSTONE. + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +THE CRIMEAN WAR. + + +There is one point upon which I could have wished that the noble Lord +had also touched--I know there were so many subjects that he could +not avoid touching that I share the admiration of the House at the +completeness with which he seemed to have mastered all his themes; but +when the noble Lord recalled to our recollection the deeds of admirable +valour and of heroic conduct which have been achieved upon the heights +of Alma, of Balaklava, and of Inkermann, I could have wished that he had +also publicly recognized that the deeds of heroism in this campaign had +not been merely confined to the field of battle. We ought to remember +the precious lives given to the pestilence of Varna and to the +inhospitable shores of the Black Sea; these men, in my opinion, were +animated by as heroic a spirit as those who have yielded up their lives +amid the flash of artillery and the triumphant sound of trumpets. No, +Sir, language cannot do justice to the endurance of our troops under the +extreme and terrible privations which circumstances have obliged them to +endure. The high spirit of an English gentleman might have sustained him +under circumstances which he could not have anticipated to encounter; +but the same proud patience has been found among the rank and file. And +it is these moral qualities that have contributed as much as others +apparently more brilliant to those great victories which we are now +acknowledging. + +Sir, the noble Lord has taken a wise and gracious course in combining +with the thanks which he is about to propose to the British army and +navy the thanks also of the House of Commons to the army of our allies. +Sir, that alliance which has now for some time prevailed between the two +great countries of France and Britain has in peace been productive +of advantage, but it is the test to which it has been put by recent +circumstances that, in my opinion, will tend more than any other cause +to confirm and consolidate that intimate union. That alliance, Sir, is +one that does not depend upon dynasties or diplomacy. It is one which +has been sanctioned by names to which we all look up with respect or +with feelings even of a higher character. The alliance between France +and England was inaugurated by the imperial mind of Elizabeth, and +sanctioned by the profound sagacity of Cromwell; it exists now not more +from feelings of mutual interest than from feelings of mutual respect, +and I believe it will be maintained by a noble spirit of emulation. + +Sir, there is still another point upon which, although with hesitation, +I will advert for a moment. I am distrustful of my own ability to deal +becomingly with a theme on which the noble Lord so well touched; but +nevertheless I feel that I must refer to it. I was glad to hear from +the noble Lord that he intends to propose a vote of condolence with the +relatives of those who have fallen in this contest. Sir, we have already +felt, even in this chamber of public assemblage, how bitter have +been the consequences of this war. We cannot throw our eyes over the +accustomed benches, where we miss many a gallant and genial face, +without feeling our hearts ache, our spirits sadden, and even our +eyes moisten. But if that be our feeling here when we miss the long +companions of our public lives and labours, what must be the anguish +and desolation which now darken so many hearths! Never, Sir, has the +youthful blood of this country been so profusely lavished as it has been +in this contest,--never has a greater sacrifice been made, and for ends +which more fully sanctify the sacrifice. But we can hardly hope now, in +the greenness of the wound, that even these reflections can serve as a +source of solace. Young women who have become widows almost as soon as +they had become wives--mothers who have lost not only their sons, but +the brethren of those sons--heads of families who have seen abruptly +close all their hopes of an hereditary line--these are pangs which even +the consciousness of duty performed, which even the lustre of glory won, +cannot easily or speedily alleviate and assuage. But let us indulge at +least in the hope, in the conviction, that the time will come when +the proceedings of this evening may be to such persons a source of +consolation--when sorrow for the memory of those that are departed may +be mitigated by the recollection that their death is at least associated +with imperishable deeds, with a noble cause, and with a nation's +gratitude. + + _Speech by_ MR. DISRAELI. + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +NATIONAL MORALITY. + + +I believe there is no permanent greatness to a nation except it be based +upon morality. I do not care for military greatness or military renown. +I care for the condition of the people among whom I live. There is no +man in England who is less likely to speak irreverently of the Crown and +Monarchy of England than I am; but crowns, coronets, mitres, military +display, the pomp of war, wide colonies, and a huge empire, are, in my +view, all trifles light as air, and not worth considering, unless with +them you can have a fair share of comfort, contentment, and happiness +among the great body of the people. Palaces, baronial castles, great +halls, stately mansions, do not make a nation. The nation in every +country dwells in the cottage; and unless the light of your Constitution +can shine there, unless the beauty of your legislation and the +excellence of your statesmanship are impressed there on the feelings and +condition of the people, rely upon it you have yet to learn the duties +of government. + +I have not, as you have observed, pleaded that this country should +remain without adequate and scientific means of defence. I acknowledge +it to be the duty of your statesmen, acting upon the known opinions and +principles of ninety-nine out of every hundred persons in the country, +at all times, with all possible moderation, but with all possible +efficiency, to take steps which shall preserve order within and on +the confines of your kingdom. But I shall repudiate and denounce +the expenditure of every shilling, the engagement of every man, the +employment of every ship which has no object but intermeddling in the +affairs of other countries, and endeavouring to extend the boundaries +of an Empire which is already large enough to satisfy the greatest +ambition, and I fear is much too large for the highest statesmanship to +which any man has yet attained. + +The most ancient of profane historians has told us that the Scythians +of his time were a very warlike people, and that they elevated an old +cimeter upon a platform as a symbol of Mars, for to Mars alone, I +believe, they built altars and offered sacrifices. To this cimeter they +offered sacrifices of horses and cattle, the main wealth of the country, +and more costly sacrifices than to all the rest of their gods. I often +ask myself whether we are at all advanced in one respect beyond those +Scythians. What are our contributions to charity, to education, to +morality, to religion, to justice, and to civil government, when +compared with the wealth we expend in sacrifices to the old cimeter? Two +nights ago I addressed in this hall a vast assembly composed to a great +extent of your countrymen who have no political power, who are at work +from the dawn of the day to the evening, and who have therefore limited +means of informing themselves on these great subjects. Now I am +privileged to speak to a somewhat different audience. You represent +those of your great community who have a more complete education, who +have on some points greater intelligence, and in whose hands reside the +power and influence of the district. I am speaking, too, within the +hearing of those whose gentle nature, whose finer instincts, whose purer +minds, have not suffered as some of us have suffered in the turmoil +and strife of life. You can mould opinion, you can create political +power,--you cannot think a good thought on this subject and communicate +it to your neighbours,--you cannot make these points topics of +discussion in your social circles and more general meetings, without +affecting sensibly and speedily the course which the Government of your +country will pursue. May I ask you, then, to believe, as I do most +devoutly believe, that the moral law was not written for men alone in +their individual character, but that it was written as well for nations, +and for nations great as this of which we are citizens. If nations +reject and deride that moral law, there is a penalty which will +inevitably follow. It may not come at once, it may not come in our +lifetime; but, rely upon it, the great Italian is not a poet only, but a +prophet, when he says-- + + "The sword of heaven is not in haste to smite, + Nor yet doth linger." + +We have experience, we have beacons, we have landmarks enough. We +know what the past has cost us, we know how much and how far we have +wandered, but we are not left without a guide. It is true, we have not, +as an ancient people had, Urim and Thummim--those oraculous gems on +Aaron's breast--from which to take counsel, but we have the unchangeable +and eternal principles of the moral law to guide us, and only so far as +we walk by that guidance can we be permanently a great nation, or our +people a happy people. + + _Speech by_ MR. BRIGHT. + + + + + * * * * * + + + + + HYMN TO DIANA. + + + Queen and huntress, chaste and fair, + Now the sun is laid to sleep, + Seated in thy silver chair. + State in wonted manner keep. + Hesperus entreats thy light, + Goddess excellently bright! + + Earth, let not thy envious shade + Dare itself to interpose; + Cynthia's shining orb was made + Heaven to clear, when day did close. + Bless us then with wished sight, + Goddess excellently bright! + + Lay thy bow of pearl apart, + And thy crystal-shining quiver: + Give unto the flying hart + Space to breathe how short soever; + Thou that mak'st a day of night, + Goddess excellently bright! + + BEN JONSON. + + + +[Notes: _Ben Jonson_ (1574-1637), poet and dramatist; the contemporary +and friend of Shakespeare, with more than his learning, but far less +than his genius and imagination.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + + L'ALLEGRO. + + + Hence, loathed Melancholy, + Of Cerberus and blackest midnight born, + In Stygian cave forlorn, + 'Mongst horrid shapes, and shrieks, and sights + unholy! + Find out some uncouth cell, + Where brooding darkness spreads his jealous wings, + And the night-raven sings; + There, under ebon shades, and low-brow'd rocks, + As ragged as thy locks, + In dark Cimmerian desert ever dwell. + But come, thou goddess fair and free, + In heaven yclep'd Euphrosyne, + And by men, heart-easing Mirth; + Whom lovely Venus, at a birth, + With two sister Graces more, + To ivy-crowned Bacchus bore: + + * * * * * + + Haste thee, nymph, and bring with thee + Jest, and youthful jollity, + Quips, and cranks, and wanton wiles, + Nods, and becks, and wreathed smiles, + Such as hang on Hebe's cheek, + And love to live in dimple sleek; + Sport that wrinkled care derides, + And laughter holding both his sides. + Come, and trip it, as you go, + On the light fantastic toe; + And in thy right hand lead with thee + The mountain-nymph, sweet Liberty; + And, if I give thee honour due, + Mirth, admit me of thy crew, + To live with her, and live with thee, + In unreproved pleasures free; + To hear the Lark begin his flight, + And singing startle the dull night, + From his watch-tower in the skies, + Till the dappled dawn doth rise; + Then to come, in spite of sorrow, + And at my window bid good-morrow, + Through the sweet-briar, or the vine, + Or the twisted eglantine: + While the cock, with lively din, + Scatters the rear of darkness thin, + And to the stack, or the barn-door, + Stoutly struts his dames before: + Oft listening how the hounds and horn + Cheerly rouse the slumbering morn, + From the side of some hoar hill, + Through the high wood echoing shrill. + Sometime walking, not unseen, + By hedge-row elms, on hillocks green, + Right against the eastern gate, + Where the great sun begins his state, + Rob'd in flames, and amber light, + The clouds in thousand liveries dight; + While the ploughman, near at hand, + Whistles o'er the furrow'd land, + And the milkmaid singeth blithe, + And the mower whets his scythe, + And every shepherd tells his tale, + Under the hawthorn in the dale. + Straight mine eye hath caught new pleasures, + While the landscape round it measures; + Russet lawns, and fallows gray, + Where the nibbling flocks do stray + Mountains, on whose barren breast, + The labouring clouds do often rest; + Meadows trim with daisies pied, + Shallow brooks, and rivers wide; + Towers and battlements it sees + Bosom'd high in tufted trees, + Where perhaps some beauty lies, + The cynosure of neighbouring eyes. + Hard by, a cottage chimney smokes + From betwixt two aged oaks, + Where Corydon and Thyrsis met, + Are at their savoury dinner set + Of herbs, and other country messes, + Which the neat-handed Phillis dresses; + And then in haste her bower she leaves, + With Thestylis to bind the sheaves; + Or, if the earlier season lead, + To the tann'd haycock in the mead. + Sometimes with secure delight + The upland hamlets will invite, + When the merry bells ring round, + And the jocund rebecks sound + To many a youth and many a maid, + Dancing in the checker'd shade; + And young and old come forth to play + On a sun-shine holy-day, + Till the live-long day-light fail: + Then to the spicy nut-brown ale, + With stories told of many a feat, + How faery Mab the junkets eat; + She was pinch'd, and pull'd, she said; + And he, by friar's lantern led. + Tells how the drudging goblin sweat + To earn his cream-bowl duly set, + When in one night, ere glimpse of morn, + His shadowy flail hath thresh'd the corn, + That ten day-labourers could not end; + Then lies him down the lubber fiend, + And, stretch'd out all the chimney's length, + Basks at the fire his hairy strength; + And crop-full out of door he flings, + Ere the first cock his matin rings. + Thus done the tales, to bed they creep, + By whispering winds soon lull'd asleep. + Tower'd cities please us then, + And the busy hum of men, + Where throngs of knights and barons bold, + In weeds of peace high triumphs hold. + With store of ladies, whose bright eyes + Rain influence, and judge the prize + Of wit or arms, while both contend + To win her grace, whom all commend. + There let Hymen oft appear + In saffron robe, with taper clear, + And pomp, and feast, and revelry, + With mask and antique pageantry. + Such sights, as youthful poets dream + On summer eves by haunted stream. + Then to the well-trod stage anon, + If Jonson's learned sock be on. + Or sweetest Shakspeare, Fancy's child, + Warble his native wood-notes wild. + And ever, against eating cares, + Lap me in soft Lydian airs, + Married to immortal verse; + Such as the meeting soul may pierce, + In notes, with many a winding bout + Of linked sweetness long drawn out, + With wanton heed and giddy cunning, + The melting voice through mazes running, + Untwisting all the chains that tie + The hidden soul of harmony; + That Orpheus' self may heave his head + From golden slumber on a bed + Of heap'd Elysian flowers, and hear + Such strains as would have won the ear + Of Pluto, to have quite set free + His half-regain'd Eurydice. + These delights if thou canst give, + Mirth, with thee I mean to live. + + MILTON. + + + +[Notes: _L'Allegro_ the Cheerful man: as Il Penseroso, the Thoughtful +man, (the title of the companion poem). + + + _Cerberus_. The dog that guarded the infernal regions. + + +_Cimmerian_. The Cimmerians were a race dwelling beyond the ocean +stream, in utter darkness. + + +_Euphrosyne_ Mirth or gladness. + + +_In unreproved pleasures_ = In innocent pleasures. + + +_Then to come_ = Then (admit me) to come. + + +_Corydon and Thyrsis_. Names for a rustic couple taken from the +mythology of the Latin poets. So _Phillis and Thestylis_. + + +_Rebecks_. Musical instruments like fiddles. + + +_Junkets_. Pieces of cheese or something of the kind. + + +_By friar's lantern_ = Jack o' Lantern or Will o' the Wisp. + + +_In weeds of peace_ = the dress worn in time of peace. + + +_Hymen_. God of wedlock. + + +_Jonson_. (See previous note to _Ben Jonson_.) + + +_Sock_. The shoe worn on the ancient stage by comedians as the buskin +was by tragedians. + + +_Lydian airs_. Soft and soothing, as opposed to the Dorian airs, which +expressed the rough and harsh element in ancient music.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +THE PLEASURES OF A LIFE OF LABOUR. + + +I wish to show you how possible it is to enjoy much happiness in very +mean employments. Cowper tells us that labour, though the primal curse, +"has been softened into mercy;" and I think that, even had he not done +so, I would have found out the fact for myself. It was twenty years +last February since I set out a little before sunrise to make my first +acquaintance with a life of labour and restraint, and I have rarely had +a heavier heart than on that morning. I was but a thin, loose-jointed +boy at the time--fond of the pretty intangibilities of romance, and of +dreaming when broad awake; and, woful change! I was now going to work +at what Burns has instanced in his "Twa Dogs" as one of the most +disagreeable of all employments--to work in a quarry. Bating the passing +uneasiness occasioned by a few gloomy anticipations, the portion of my +life which had already gone by had been happy beyond the common lot. I +had been a wanderer among rocks and wood--a reader of curious books when +I could get them--a gleaner of old traditionary stories; and now I was +going to exchange all my day-dreams, and all my amusements, for the kind +of life in which men toil every day that they may be enabled to eat, and +eat every day that they may be enabled to toil! + +The quarry in which I wrought lay on the southern side of a noble inland +bay, or frith rather, with a little clear stream on the one side, and a +thick fir wood on the other. It had been opened in the old red sandstone +of the district, and was overtopped by a huge bank of diluvial clay, +which rose over it in some places to the height of nearly thirty feet, +and which at this time was rent and shivered, wherever it presented an +open front to the weather, by a recent frost. A heap of loose fragments, +which had fallen from above blocked up the face of the quarry, and my +first employment was to clear them away. The friction of the shovel soon +blistered my hands, but the pain was by no means very severe, and I +wrought hard and willingly, that I might see how the huge strata below, +which presented so firm and unbroken a frontage, were to be torn up +and removed. Picks, and wedges, and levers, were applied by my brother +workmen; and simple and rude as I had been accustomed to regard these +implements, I found I had much to learn in the way of using them. They +all proved inefficient, however, and the workmen had to bore into one of +the inferior strata, and employ gunpowder. The process was new to me, +and I deemed it a highly-amusing one: it had the merit, too, of being +attended with some such degree of danger as a boating or rock excursion, +and had thus an interest independent of its novelty. We had a few +capital shots: the fragments flew in every direction; and an immense +mass of the diluvium came toppling down, bearing with it two dead birds, +that in a recent storm had crept into one of the deeper fissures, to die +in the shelter. I felt a new interest in examining them. The one was a +pretty cock goldfinch, with its hood of vermilion, and its wings inlaid +with the gold to which it owes its name, as unsoiled and smooth as if it +had been preserved for a museum. The other, a somewhat rarer bird, of +the woodpecker tribe, was variegated with light blue and a grayish +yellow. I was engaged in admiring the poor little things, more disposed +to be sentimental, perhaps, than if I had been ten years older, and +thinking of the contrast between the warmth and jollity of their green +summer haunts and the cold and darkness of their last retreat, when I +heard our employer bidding the workmen lay by their tools. I looked up, +and saw the sun sinking behind the thick fir-wood beside us, and the +long dark shadows of the trees stretching downwards towards the shore. + +This was no very formidable beginning of the course of life I had so +much dreaded. To be sure, my hands were a little sore, and I felt nearly +as much fatigued as if I had been climbing among the rocks; but I had +wrought and been useful, and had yet enjoyed the day fully as much as +usual. It was no small matter, too, that the evening, converted by a +rare transmutation into the delicious "blink of rest," which Burns so +truthfully describes, was all my own. I was as light of heart next +morning as any of my fellow-workmen. There had been a smart frost during +the night, and the rime lay white on the grass as we passed onwards +through the fields; but the sun rose in a clear atmosphere, and the day +mellowed, as it advanced, into one of those delightful days of early +spring which give so pleasing an earnest of whatever is mild and genial +in the better half of the year! All the workmen rested at mid-day, and +I went to enjoy my half-hour alone on a mossy knoll in the neighbouring +wood, which commands through the trees a wide prospect of the bay and +the opposite shore. There was not a wrinkle on the water, nor a cloud in +the sky, and the branches were as moveless in the calm as if they had +been traced on canvas. From a wooded promontory that stretched half-way +across the frith, there ascended a thin column of smoke. It rose +straight as the line of a plummet for more than a thousand yards, and +then, on reaching a thinner stratum of air, spread out equally on every +side like the foliage of a stately tree. Ben Wyvis rose to the west, +white with the yet unwasted snows of winter, and as sharply defined +in the clear atmosphere as if all its sunny slopes and blue retiring +hollows had been chiselled in marble. A line of snow ran along the +opposite hills; all above was white, and all below was purple. They +reminded me of the pretty French story, in which an old artist is +described as tasking the ingenuity of his future son-in-law by giving +him as a subject for his pencil a flower-piece composed of only white +flowers, of which the one-half were to bear their proper colour, the +other half a deep purple hue, and yet all be perfectly natural; and +how the young man resolved the riddle, and gained his mistress, by +introducing a transparent purple vase into the picture, and making the +light pass through it on the flowers that were drooping over the edge. I +returned to the quarry, convinced that a very exquisite pleasure may be +a very cheap one, and that the busiest employments may afford leisure +enough to enjoy it. + +The gunpowder had loosened a large mass in one of the inferior strata, +and our first employment, on resuming our labours, was to raise it from +its bed. I assisted the other workmen in placing it on edge, and was +much struck by the appearance of the platform on which it had rested. +The entire surface was ridged and furrowed like a bank of sand that +had been left by the tide an hour before. I could trace every bend and +curvature, every cross-hollow and counter-ridge of the corresponding +phenomena; for the resemblance was no half-resemblance--it was the +thing itself; and I had observed it a hundred and a hundred times when +sailing my little schooner in the shallows left by the ebb. But what had +become of the waves that had thus fretted the solid rock, or of what +element had they been composed? I felt as completely at fault as +Robinson Crusoe did on his discovering the print of the man's foot on +the sand. The evening furnished me with still further cause of wonder. +We raised another block in a different part of the quarry, and found +that the area of a circular depression in the stratum below was broken +and flawed in every direction, as if it had been the bottom of a pool, +recently dried up, which had shrunk and split in the hardening. Several +large stones came rolling down from the diluvium in the course of the +afternoon. They were of different qualities from the sandstone below, +and from one another; and, what was more wonderful still, they were all +rounded and water-worn, as if they had been tossed about in the sea, or +the bed of a river, for hundreds of years. There could not, surely, be +a more conclusive proof that the bank which had enclosed them so long +could not have been created on the rock on which it rested. No workman +ever manufactures a half-worn article, and the stones were all +half-worn! And if not the bank, why then the sandstone underneath? I +was lost in conjecture, and found I had food enough for thought that +evening, without once thinking of the unhappiness of a life of labour. + + HUGH MILLER. + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +THE FLIGHT OF BIRDS. + + +A good ornithologist should be able to distinguish birds by their air, +as well as by their colours and shape, on the ground as well as on the +wing, and in the bush as well as in the hand. For, though it must not be +said that every species of birds has a manner peculiar to itself, +yet there is somewhat in most kinds at least that at first sight +discriminates them, and enables a judicious observer to pronounce upon +them with some certainty. + +Thus, kites and buzzards sail round in circles, with wings expanded and +motionless; and it is from their gliding manner that the former are +still called, in the north of England, gleads, from the Saxon verb +_glidan_, to glide. The kestrel, or windhover, has a peculiar mode of +hanging in the air in one place, his wings all the while being briskly +agitated. Hen-harriers fly low over heaths or fields of corn, and beat +the ground regularly like a pointer or setting-dog. Owls move in a +buoyant manner, as if lighter than the air; they seem to want ballast. +There is a peculiarity belonging to ravens that must draw the attention +even of the most incurious--they spend all their leisure time in +striking and cuffing each other on the wing in a kind of playful +skirmish; and when they move from one place to another, frequently turn +on their backs with a loud croak, and seem to be falling on the ground. +When this odd gesture betides them, they are scratching themselves with +one foot, and thus lose the centre of gravity. Rooks sometimes dive and +tumble in a frolicsome manner; crows and daws swagger in their walk; +woodpeckers fly with an undulating motion, opening and closing their +wings at every stroke, and so are always rising and falling in curves. +All of this kind use their tails, which incline downwards, as a support +while they run up trees. Parrots, like all other hooked-clawed birds, +walk awkwardly, and make use of their bill as a third foot, climbing +and descending with ridiculous caution. Cocks, hens, partridges, and +pheasants, etc., parade and walk gracefully, and run nimbly; but fly +with difficulty, with an impetuous whirring, and in a straight line. +Magpies and jays flutter with powerless wings, and make no dispatch; +herons seem encumbered with too much sail for their light bodies; but +these vast hollow wings are necessary in carrying burdens, such as large +fishes, and the like; pigeons, and particularly the sort called smiters, +have a way of clashing their wings, the one against the other, over +their backs, with a loud snap; another variety, called tumblers, turn +themselves over in the air. The kingfisher darts along like an arrow; +fern-owls, or goat-suckers, glance in the dusk over the tops of trees +like a meteor; starlings, as it were, swim along, while missel-thrushes +use a wild and desultory flight; swallows sweep over the surface of the +ground and water, and distinguish themselves by rapid turns and quick +evolutions; swifts dash round in circles; and the bank-martin moves with +frequent vacillations, like a butterfly. Most of the small birds fly by +jerks, rising and falling as they advance. Most small birds hop; but +wagtails and larks walk, moving their legs alternately. Skylarks rise +and fall perpendicularly as they sing; woodlarks hang poised in the air; +and titlarks rise and fall in large curves, singing in their descent. +The white-throat uses odd jerks and gesticulations over the tops of +hedges and bushes. All the duck kind waddle; divers and auks walk as if +fettered, and stand erect on their tails. Geese and cranes, and most +wild fowls, move in figured flights, often changing their position. +Dabchicks, moorhens, and coots, fly erect, with their legs hanging down, +and hardly make any dispatch; the reason is plain, their wings are +placed too forward out of the true centre of gravity, as the legs of +auks and divers are situated too backward. + + REV. GILBERT WHITE. + + + + + * * * * * + + + + + THE VILLAGE. + + + Sweet was the sound, when oft at evening's close + Up yonder hill the village murmur rose. + There as I past with careless steps and slow, + The mingling notes came softened from below; + The swain responsive as the milk-maid sung, + The sober herd that lowed to meet their young, + The noisy geese that gabbled o'er the pool, + The playful children just let loose from school, + The watch-dog's voice that bayed the whispering wind, + And the loud laugh that spoke the vacant mind; + These all in sweet confusion sought the shade, + And filled each pause the nightingale had made. + But now the sounds of population fail, + No cheerful murmurs fluctuate in the gale, + No busy steps the grass-grown foot-way tread, + For all the bloomy flush of life is fled. + All but yon widowed, solitary thing, + That feebly bends beside the plashing spring: + She, wretched matron, forced in age, for bread, + To strip the brook with mantling cresses spread, + To pick her wintry faggot from the thorn, + To seek her nightly shed, and weep till mom; + She only left of all the harmless train, + The sad historian of the pensive plain. + Near yonder copse, where once the garden smiled, + And still, where many a garden-flower grows wild; + There, where a few torn shrubs the place disclose, + The village preacher's modest mansion rose, + A man he was to all the country dear, + And passing rich with forty pounds a year; + Remote from towns he ran his godly race, + Nor e'er had changed, nor wished to change his place; + Unpractised he to fawn, or seek for power, + By doctrines fashioned to the varying hour; + Far other aims his heart had learned to prize, + More skilled to raise the wretched than to rise. + His house was known to all the vagrant train; + He chid their wanderings, but relieved their pain; + The long-remember'd beggar was his guest, + Whose beard descending swept his aged breast, + The ruined spendthrift, now no longer proud, + Claimed kindred there, and had his claims allowed; + The broken soldier, kindly bade to stay, + Sat by his fire, and talked the night away. + Wept o'er his wounds or tales of sorrow done, + Shouldered his crutch, and showed how fields were won. + Pleased with his guests, the good man learned to glow, + And quite forgot their vices in their woe; + Careless their merits or their faults to scan, + His pity gave ere charity began. + Thus to relieve the wretched was his pride, + And e'en his failings leaned to virtue's side; + But in his duty prompt at every call, + He watched and wept, he prayed and felt for all; + And, as a bird each fond endearment tries + To tempt its new-fledged offspring to the skies, + He tried each art, reproved each dull delay, + Allured to brighter worlds, and led the way. + Beside the bed where parting life was laid, + And sorrow, guilt, and pain, by turns dismayed, + The reverend champion stood. At his control + Despair and anguish fled the struggling soul; + Comfort came down the trembling wretch to raise, + And his last faltering accents whispered praise. + At church, with meek and unaffected grace, + His looks adorned the venerable place; + Truth from his lips prevailed with double sway, + And fools, who came to scoff remained to pray. + The service past, around the pious man, + With steady zeal, each honest rustic ran; + E'en children followed with endearing wile, + And plucked his gown, to share the good man's smile. + His ready smile a parent's warmth expressed; + Their welfare pleased him, and their cares distressed: + To them his heart, his love, his griefs were given, + But all his serious thoughts had rest in heaven. + As some tall cliff that lifts its awful form, + Swells from the vale, and midway leaves the storm, + Though round its breast the rolling clouds are spread, + Eternal sunshine settles on its head. + Beside yon straggling fence that skirts the way, + With blossom'd furze unprofitably gay, + There in his noisy mansion, skilled to rule, + The village master taught his little school. + A man severe he was, and stern to view; + I knew him well, and every truant knew; + Well had the boding tremblers learned to trace + The day's disasters in his morning face; + Full well they laughed with counterfeited glee + At all his jokes, for many a joke had he; + Full well the busy whisper circling round + Conveyed the dismal tidings when he frowned, + Yet he was kind, or, if severe in aught, + The love he bore to learning was in fault; + The village all declared how much he knew; + 'Twas certain he could write, and cypher too; + Lands he could measure, terms and tides presage, + And e'en, the story ran, that he could gauge: + In arguing, too, the parson owned his skill; + For e'en though vanquished, he could argue still; + While words of learned length and thundering sound + Amazed the gazing rustics ranged around; + And still they gazed, and still the wonder grew, + That one small head could carry all he knew. + + GOLDSMITH. + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +THE BATTLE OF CORUNNA. + + +All the encumbrances being shipped on the morning of the 16th, it was +intended to embark the fighting men in the coming night, and this +difficult operation would probably have been happily effected; but a +glorious event was destined to give a more graceful, though melancholy, +termination to the campaign. About two o'clock a general movement of +the French line gave notice of an approaching battle, and the British +infantry, fourteen thousand five hundred strong, occupied their +position. Baird's division on the right, and governed by the oblique +direction of the ridge, approached the enemy; Hope's division, forming +the centre and left, although on strong ground abutting on the Mero, was +of necessity withheld, so that the French battery on the rocks raked the +whole line of battle. One of Baird's brigades was in column behind the +right, and one of Hope's behind the left; Paget's reserve posted at the +village of Airis, behind the centre, looked down the valley separating +the right of the position front the hills occupied by the French +cavalry. A battalion detached from the reserve kept these horsemen +in check, and was itself connected with the main body by a chain of +skirmishers extended across the valley. Fraser's division held the +heights immediately before the gates of Corunna, watching the coast +road, but it was also ready to succour any point. + +When Laborde's division arrived, the French force was not less than +twenty thousand men, and the Duke of Dalmatia made no idle evolutions of +display. Distributing his lighter guns along the front of his position, +he opened a fire from the heavy battery on his left, and instantly +descended the mountain, with three columns covered by clouds of +skirmishers. The British pickets were driven back in disorder, and the +village of Elvina was carried by the first French column. + +The ground about that village was intersected by stone walls and hollow +roads; a severe scrambling fight ensued, the French were forced back +with great loss, and the fiftieth regiment entering the village with the +retiring mass, drove it, after a second struggle in the street, quite +beyond the houses. Seeing this, the general ordered up a battalion of +the guards to fill the void in the line made by the advance of those +regiments; whereupon, the forty-second, mistaking his intention, +retired, with exception of the grenadiers; and at that moment, the enemy +being reinforced, renewed the fight beyond the village. Major Napier, +commanding the fiftieth, was wounded and taken prisoner, and Elvina +then became the scene of another contest; which being observed by +the Commander-in-Chief, he addressed a few animating words to the +forty-second, and caused it to return to the attack. Paget had now +descended into the valley, and the line of the skirmishers being thus +supported, vigorously checked the advance of the enemy's troops in that +quarter, while the fourth regiment galled their flank; at the same time +the centre and left of the army also became engaged, Baird was severely +wounded, and a furious action ensued along the line, in the valley, and +on the hills. + +General Sir John Moore, while earnestly watching the result of the +fight about the village of Elvina, was struck on the left breast by a +cannon-shot; the shock threw him from his horse with violence; yet he +rose again in a sitting posture, his countenance unchanged, and his +steadfast eye still fixed upon the regiments engaged in his front, no +sigh betraying a sensation of pain. In a few moments, when he saw the +troops were gaining ground, his countenance brightened, and he suffered +himself to be taken to the rear. Then was seen the dreadful nature +of his hurt. As the soldiers placed him in a blanket, his sword got +entangled, and the hilt entered the wound; Captain Hardinge, a staff +officer, attempted to take it off, but the dying man stopped him, +saying: "It is as well as it is. I had rather it should go out of the +field with me;" and in that manner, so becoming to a soldier, Moore was +borne from the fight. + +Notwithstanding this great disaster, the troops gained ground. The +reserve overthrowing everything in the valley, forced La Houssaye's +dismounted dragoons to retire, and thus turning the enemy, approached +the eminence upon which the great battery was posted. In the centre, the +obstinate dispute for Elvina terminated in favour of the British; and +when the night set in, their line was considerably advanced beyond the +original position of the morning, while the French were falling back in +confusion. If Fraser's division had been brought into action along with +the reserve, the enemy could hardly have escaped a signal overthrow; +for the little ammunition Soult had been able to bring up was nearly +exhausted, the river Mero was in full tide behind him, and the difficult +communication by the bridge of El Burgo was alone open for a retreat. On +the other hand, to fight in the dark was to tempt fortune; the French +were still the most numerous, their ground strong, and their disorder +facilitated the original plan of embarking during the night. Hope, upon +whom the command had devolved, resolved therefore, to ship the army, +and so complete were the arrangements, that no confusion or difficulty +occurred; the pickets kindled fires to cover the retreat, and were +themselves withdrawn at daybreak, to embark under the protection of +Hill's brigade, which was in position under the ramparts of Corunna. + +From the spot where he fell, the general was carried to the town by his +soldiers; his blood flowed fast, and the torture of the wound was great; +yet the unshaken firmness of his mind made those about him, seeing the +resolution of his countenance, express a hope of his recovery. He looked +steadfastly at the injury for a moment, and said, "No, I feel that to +be impossible." Several times he caused his attendants to stop and turn +round, that he might behold the field of battle; and when the firing +indicated the advance of the British, he discovered his satisfaction +and permitted the bearers to proceed. When brought to his lodgings, the +surgeons examined his wound; there was no hope, the pain increased, he +spoke with difficulty. At intervals, he asked if the French were beaten, +and addressing his old friend, Colonel Anderson, said, "You know I +always wished to die this way." Again he asked if the enemy were +defeated, and being told they were, said, "It is a great satisfaction to +me to know we have beaten the French." His countenance continued firm, +his thoughts clear; once only when he spoke of his mother he became +agitated; but he often inquired after the safety of his friends and the +officers of his staff, and he did not even in this moment forget to +recommend those whose merit had given them claims to promotion. When +life was nearly extinct, with an unsubdued spirit, as if anticipating +the baseness of his posthumous calumniators, he exclaimed, "I hope +the people of England will be satisfied! I hope my country will do me +justice!" In a few minutes afterwards he died; and his corpse, wrapped +in a military cloak, was interred by the officers of his staff, in the +citadel of Corunna. The guns of the enemy paid his funeral honours, and +Soult, with a noble feeling of respect for his valour, raised a monument +to his memory on the field of battle. + + NAPIER. + + + +[Note:_Battle of Corunna_. The French army having proclaimed Joseph +Buonaparte, King of Spain, the Spanish people rose as one man in +protest, and sought and obtained the aid of England. The English armies +were at first driven back by Napoleon; but the force under Sir John +Moore saved its honour in the fight before Corunna, 16th January, 1809, +which enabled it to embark in safety.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +BATTLE OF ALBUERA. + + +The fourth division was composed of two brigades: one of Portuguese +under General Harvey; the other, under Sir William Myers, consisting of +the seventh and twenty-third regiments, was called the Fusilier Brigade; +Harvey's Portuguese were immediately pushed in between Lumley's dragoons +and the hill, where they were charged by some French cavalry, whom they +beat off, and meantime Cole led his fusiliers up the contested height. +At this time six guns were in the enemy's possession, the whole of +Werle's reserves were coming forward to reinforce the front column of +the French, the remnant of Houghton's brigade could no longer maintain +its ground, the field was heaped with carcasses, the lancers were riding +furiously about the captured artillery on the upper parts of the +hill, and behind all, Hamilton's Portuguese and Alten's Germans, now +withdrawing from the bridge, seemed to be in full retreat. Soon, +however, Cole's fusiliers, flanked by a battalion of the Lusitanian +legion under Colonel Hawkshawe, mounted the hill, drove off the lancers, +recovered five of the captured guns and one colour, and appeared on the +right of Houghton's brigade, precisely as Abercrombie passed it on the +left. + +Such a gallant line, issuing from the midst of the smoke, and rapidly +separating itself from the confused and broken multitude, startled the +enemy's masses, which were increasing and pressing onwards as to an +assured victory; they wavered, hesitated, and then vomiting forth a +storm of fire, hastily endeavoured to enlarge their front, while a +fearful discharge of grape from all their artillery whistled through the +British ranks. Myers was killed, Cole and the three colonels, Ellis, +Blakeney, and Hawkshawe, fell wounded, and the fusilier battalions, +struck by the iron tempest, reeled and staggered like sinking ships; but +suddenly and sternly recovering, they closed on their terrible enemies, +and then was seen with what a strength and majesty the British soldier +fights. In vain did Soult with voice and gesture animate his Frenchmen; +in vain did the hardiest veterans break from the crowded columns and +sacrifice their lives to gain time for the mass to open out on such a +fair field; in vain did the mass itself bear up, and, fiercely striving, +fire indiscriminately upon friends and foes, while the horsemen, +hovering on the flank, threatened to charge the advancing line. Nothing +could stop that astonishing infantry. No sudden burst of undisciplined +valour, no nervous enthusiasm weakened the stability of their order, +their flashing eyes were bent on the dark columns in their front, their +measured tread shook the ground, their dreadful volleys swept away +the head of every formation, their deafening shouts overpowered the +dissonant cries that broke from all parts of the tumultuous crowd, as +slowly and with a horrid carnage it was pushed by the incessant vigour +of the attack to the farthest edge of the hill. In vain did the French +reserves mix with the struggling multitude to sustain the fight; their +efforts only increased the irremediable confusion, and the mighty mass, +breaking off like a loosened cliff, went headlong down the steep; the +rain flowed after in streams discoloured with blood, and eighteen +hundred unwounded men, the remnant of six thousand unconquerable British +soldiers, stood triumphant on the fatal hill! + + NAPIER. + + + +[Note: _Battle of Albuera_, in which the English and Spanish armies won +a victory over the French under Marshal Soult, on 16th May, 1811.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +CHARGE OF THE LIGHT BRIGADE AT BALAKLAVA. + + +The whole brigade scarcely made one efficient regiment according to the +number of continental armies; and yet it was more than we could spare. +As they passed towards the front, the Russians opened on them from the +guns in the redoubt on the right with volleys of musketry and rifles. +They swept proudly past, glittering in the morning sun in all the pride +and splendour of war. We could scarcely believe the evidence of our +senses! Surely that handful of men are not going to charge an army in +position? Alas! it was but too true; their desperate valour knew +no bounds, and far indeed was it removed from its so-called better +part--discretion. They advanced in two lines, quickening their pace +as they closed towards the enemy. A more fearful spectacle was never +witnessed than by those who, without the power to aid, beheld their +heroic countrymen rushing to the arms of death. At the distance of +twelve hundred yards the whole line of the enemy belched forth, from +thirty iron mouths, a flood of smoke and flame through which hissed the +deadly balls. Their flight was marked by instant gaps in our ranks, by +dead men and horses, by steeds flying wounded or riderless across the +plain. The first line is broken, it is joined by the second; they never +halt or check their speed for an instant; with diminished ranks, thinned +by those thirty guns, which the Russians had laid with the most deadly +accuracy, with a halo of flashing steel above their heads, and with a +cheer which was many a noble fellow's death-cry, they flew into the +smoke of the batteries; but ere they were lost to view the plain was +strewn with their bodies and with the carcasses of horses. They were +exposed to an oblique fire from the batteries on the hills on both +sides, as well as to a direct fire of musketry. Through the clouds of +smoke we could see their sabres flashing as they rode up to the guns and +dashed between them, cutting down the gunners as they stood. We saw them +riding through the guns, as I have said: to our delight we saw them +returning, after breaking through a column of Russian infantry, and +scattering them like chaff, when the flank fire of the battery on the +hill swept them down, scattered and broken as they were. Wounded men and +dismounted troopers flying towards us told the sad tale: demigods could +not have done what we had failed to do. At the very moment when they +were about to retreat, an enormous mass of lancers was hurled on their +flank. Colonel Shewell, of the 8th Hussars, saw the danger, and rode his +few men straight at them, cutting his way through with fearful loss. +The other regiments turned and engaged in a desperate encounter. With +courage too great almost for credence, they were breaking their way +through the columns which enveloped them, when there took place an act +of atrocity without parallel in the modern warfare of civilised nations. +The Russian gunners, when the storm of cavalry passed, returned to their +guns. They saw their own cavalry mingled with the troopers who had just +ridden over them, and, to the eternal disgrace of the Russian name, the +miscreants poured a murderous volley of grape and canister on the mass +of struggling men and horses, mingling friend and foe in one common +ruin. It was as much as our Heavy Cavalry Brigade could do to cover +the retreat of the miserable remnants of that band of heroes as they +returned to the place they had so lately quitted in all the pride of +life. At 11:35 not a British soldier, except the dead and dying, was +left in front of the Muscovite guns. + + _The "Times" Correspondent_. + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +THE MERCHANT OF VENICE. + + +SCENE.--_Venice. A Court of Justice. + + Enter the_ DUKE, _the_ Magnificoes, ANTONIO, + BASSANIO, GATIANO, SALARINO, SALANIO, _and + others_. + + + _Duke_. What, is Antonio here? + + _Ant_. Ready, so please your grace. + + _Duke._ I am sorry for thee; thou art come to +answer +A stony adversary, an inhuman wretch +Uncapable of pity, void and empty +From any dram of mercy. + + _Ant_. I have heard +Your grace hath ta'en great pains to qualify +His rigorous course; but since he stands obdurate +And that no lawful means can carry me +Out of his envy's reach, I do oppose +My patience to his fury, and am arm'd +To suffer, with a quietness of spirit, +The very tyranny and rage of his. + + _Duke_. Go one, and call the Jew into the court, + + _Salan_. He is ready at the door: he comes, my lord. + + _Enter_ SHYLOCK. + + + _Duke_. Make room, and let him stand before our face. +Shylock, the world thinks, and I think so too, +That thou but lead'st this fashion of thy malice +To the last hour of act; and then 'tis thought +Thou'lt show thy mercy and remorse more strange +Than is thy strange apparent cruelty; +And where thou now exact'st the penalty, +(Which is a pound of this poor merchant's flesh), +Thou wilt not only loose the forfeiture, +But, touch'd with human gentleness and love, +Forgive a moiety of the principal; +Glancing an eye of pity on his losses, +That have of late so huddled on his back, +Enow to press a royal merchant down +And pluck commiseration of his state +From brassy bosoms and rough hearts of flint, +From stubborn Turks and Tartars, never train'd +To offices of tender courtesy. +We all expect a gentle answer, Jew. + + _Shy._ I have possess'd your grace of what I purpose; +And by our holy Sabbath have I sworn +To have the due and forfeit of my bond: +If you deny it, let the danger light +Upon your charter and your city's freedom. +You'll ask me, why I rather choose to have +A weight of carrion flesh than to receive +Three thousand ducats; I'll not answer that: +But, say, it is my humour; is it answer'd? + + * * * * * + + _Bass._ This is no answer, thou unfeeling man, +To excuse the current of thy cruelty. + + _Shy_. I am not bound to please thee with my answer. + + * * * * * + + _Ant._ I pray you, think you question with the Jew: +You may as well go stand upon the beach +And bid the main flood bate his usual height; +You may as well use question with the wolf +Why he hath made the ewe bleat for the lamb; +You may as well forbid the mountain pines +To wag their high tops and to make no noise, +When they are fretted with the gusts of heaven; +You may as well do any thing most hard, +As seek to soften that--than which what's harder?-- +His Jewish heart: therefore, I do beseech you, +Make no more offers, use no farther means, +But with all brief and plain conveniency +Let me have judgment, and the Jew his will. + + _Bass_. For thy three thousand ducats here is six. + + _Shy_, If every ducat in six thousand ducats +Were in six parts, and every part a ducat, +I would not draw them; I would have my bond. + + _Duke_. How shalt thou hope for mercy, rendering none? + + _Shy_. What judgment shall I dread, doing no wrong? +You have among you many a purchased slave, +Which, like your asses and your dogs and mules, +You use in abject and in slavish parts, +Because you bought them: shall I say to you, +Let them be free, marry them to your heirs? +Why sweat they under burthens? let their beds +Be made as soft as yours, and let their palates +Be season'd with such viands? You will answer +"The slaves are ours:" so do I answer you; +The pound of flesh, which I demand of him, +Is dearly bought; 'tis mine, and I will have it: +If you deny me, fie upon your law! +There is no force in the decrees of Venice: +I stand for judgment: answer; shall I have it? + + _Duke_. Upon my power, I may dismiss this court, +Unless Bellario, a learned doctor, +Whom I have sent for to determine this, +Come here to-day. + + _Salar_. My lord, here stays without +A messenger with letters from the doctor, +New come from Padua. + + _Duke_. Bring us the letters; call the messenger. + + _Enter_ NERISSA, _dressed like a lawyer's clerk._ + + _Duke._ Came you from Padua, from Bellario? + + _Ner_. From both, my lord. Bellario greets your grace. + + [_Presenting a letter_. + + _Bass_. Why dost thou whet thy knife so earnestly? + + _Shy_. To cut the forfeiture from that bankrupt there. + + _Gra_. Not on thy sole, but on thy soul, harsh Jew, +Thou mak'st thy knife keen; but no metal can, +No, not the hangman's axe, bear half the keenness +Of thy sharp envy. Can no prayers pierce thee? + + _Shy_. No, none that thou hast wit enough to make. + + * * * * * + + _Duke_. This letter from Bellario doth commend +A young and learned doctor to our court:-- +Where is he? + + _Ner_. He attendeth here hard by, +To know your answer, whether you'll admit him. + + _Duke_. With all my heart. Some three or four of you, +Go give him courteous conduct to this place. + + * * * * * + + _Enter_ PORTIA, _dressed like a doctor of laws_. + + _Duke_. Give me your hand. Came you from old Bellario? + + _Por_. I did, my lord. + + _Duke_. You are welcome: take your place. +Are you acquainted with the difference +That holds this present question in the court? + + _Por_. I am informed thoroughly of the cause. +Which is the merchant here, and which the Jew? + + _Duke_. Antonio and old Shylock, both stand +forth. + + _Por_. Is your name Shylock? + + _Shy_. Shylock is my name. + + _Por_. Of a strange nature is the suit you follow; +Yet in such rule that the Venetian law +Cannot impugn you as you do proceed. +You stand within his danger, do you not? + + _Ant_. Ay, so he says. + + _Por_. Do you confess the bond? + + _Ant_. I do. + + _Por_. Then must the Jew be merciful. + + _Shy_. On what compulsion must I? tell me that. + + _Por_. The quality of mercy is not strain'd; +It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven +Upon the place beneath: it is twice blest; +It blesseth him that gives and him that takes: +'Tis mightiest in the mightiest: it becomes +The throned monarch better than his crown; +His sceptre shows the force of temporal power, +The attribute to awe and majesty, +Wherein doth sit the dread and fear of kings; +But mercy is above this scepter'd sway; +It is enthroned in the hearts of kings, +It is an attribute to God himself: +And earthly power doth then show likest God's +When mercy seasons justice. Therefore, Jew, +Though justice be thy plea, consider this, +That, in the course of justice, none of us +Should see salvation: we do pray for mercy; +And that same prayer doth teach us all to render +The deeds of mercy. I have spoke thus much +To mitigate the justice of thy plea; +Which if thou follow, this strict court of Venice +Must needs give sentence 'gainst the merchant there. + + _Shy_. My deeds upon my head! I crave the law, +The penalty and forfeit of my bond. + + _Por_. Is he not able to discharge the money? + + _Bass_. Yes, here I tender it for him in the court; +Yea, twice the sum: if that will not suffice; +I will be bound to pay it ten times o'er, +On forfeit of my hands, my head, my heart: +If this will not suffice, it must appear +That malice bears down truth. And I beseech you, +Wrest once the law to your authority: +To do a great right, do a little wrong, +And curb this cruel devil of his will. + + _Por_. It must not be; there is no power in Venice +Can alter a decree established: +'Twill be recorded for a precedent, +And many an error, by the same example, +Will rush into the state: it cannot be. + + _Shy._ A Daniel come to judgment! yea, a Daniel! +O wise young judge, how do I honour thee! + + _Por._ I pray you, let me look upon the bond. + + _Shy._ Here 'tis, most reverend doctor, here it is. + + _Por._ Shylock, there's thrice thy money offer'd thee. + + _Shy._ An oath, an oath, I have an oath in heaven: +Shall I lay perjury upon my soul? +No, not for Venice. + + _Por._ Why, this bond is forfeit; +And lawfully by this the Jew may claim +A pound of flesh, to be by him cut off +Nearest the merchant's heart. Be merciful: +Take thrice thy money; bid me tear the bond. + + _Shy._ When it is paid according to the tenour. +It doth appear you are a worthy judge; +You know the law, your exposition +Hath been most sound: I charge you by the law, +Whereof you are a well-deserving pillar, +Proceed to judgment: by my soul I swear +There is no power in the tongue of man +To alter me: I stay here on my bond. + + _Ant._ Most heartily I do beseech the court +To give the judgment. + + _Por._ Why then, thus it is: +You must prepare your bosom for his knife. + + _Shy._ O noble judge! O excellent young man! + + _Por_. For the intent and purpose of the law +Hath full relation to the penalty, +Which here appeareth due upon the bond. + + _Shy_. 'Tis very true: O wise and upright judge! +How much more elder art thou than thy looks! + + _Por_. Therefore lay bare your bosom. + + _Shy_. Ay, his breast: +So says the bond; doth it not, noble judge? +"Nearest his heart:" those are the very words. + + _Por_. It is so. Are there balance here to weigh +The flesh? + + _Shy_. I have them ready. + + _Por_. Have by some surgeon, Shylock, on your charge, +To stop his wounds, lest he do bleed to death. + + _Shy_. Is it so nominated in the bond? + + _Por_. It is not so express'd: but what of that? +'Twere good you do so much for charity. + + _Shy_. I cannot find it; 'tis not in the bond. + + _Por_. Come, merchant, have you anything to say? + + _Ant_. But little: I am arm'd and well prepared. +Give me your hand, Bassanio: fare you well! +Grieve not that I am fallen to this for you; +For herein Fortune shows herself more kind +Than is her custom: it is still her use +To let the wretched man outlive his wealth, +To view with hollow eye and wrinkled brow +An age of poverty; from which lingering penance +Of such a misery doth she cut me off. +Commend me to your honourable wife: +Tell her the process of Antonio's end; +Say how I loved you, speak me fair in death. + + * * * * * + + _Shy_. We trifle time: I pray thee, pursue sentence. + + _Por_. A pound of that same merchant's flesh is thine: +The court awards it, and the law doth give it. + + _Shy_. Most rightful judge! + + _Por_. And you must cut this flesh from off his breast: +The law allows it, and the court awards it. + + _Shy_. Most learned judge! A sentence; come, prepare. + + _Por_. Tarry a little; there is something else. +This bond doth give thee here no jot of blood; +The words expressly are "a pound of flesh:" +Take then thy bond, take thou thy pound of flesh; +But, in the cutting it, if thou dost shed +One drop of Christian blood, thy lands and goods +Are, by the laws of Venice, confiscate +Unto the state of Venice. + + _Gra_. O upright judge! Mark, Jew: O learned judge! + + _Shy_. Is that the law? + + _Por_. Thyself shalt see the act: +For, as thou urgest justice, be assured +Thou shalt have justice, more than thou desirest. + + _Gra_. O learned judge! Mark, Jew; a learned judge! + + _Shy_. I take this offer, then; pay the bond thrice, +And let the Christian go. + + _Bass_. Here is the money. + + _Por_. Soft! +The Jew shall have all justice; soft! no haste: +He shall have nothing but the penalty. + + _Gra_. O Jew! an upright judge, a learned judge! + + _Por_. Therefore prepare thee to cut off the flesh. +Shed thou no blood, nor cut thou less nor more +But just a pound of flesh: if thou cut'st more +Or less than a just pound, be it but so much +As makes it light or heavy in the substance, +Or the division of the twentieth part +Of one poor scruple; nay, if the scale do turn +But in the estimation of a hair, +Thou diest and all thy goods are confiscate. + + _Gra_. A second Daniel, a Daniel, Jew! +Now, infidel, I have thee on the hip. + + _Por_. Why doth the Jew pause? take thy forfeiture. + + _Shy_. Give me my principal, and let me go. + + _Bass_. I have it ready for thee; here it is. + + _Por_. He hath refused it in the open court: +He shall have merely justice and his bond. + + _Gra_. A Daniel, still say I, a second Daniel! +I thank thee, Jew, for teaching me that word. + + _Shy_. Shall I not have barely my principal? + + _Por_. Thou shalt have nothing but the forfeiture, +To be so taken at thy peril, Jew. + + _Shy_. Why, then the devil give him good of it! +I'll stay no longer question. + + _Por_. Tarry, Jew: +The law hath yet another hold on you. +It is enacted in the laws of Venice, +If it be proved against an alien, +That by direct or indirect attempts +He seek the life of any citizen, +The party 'gainst the which he doth contrive +Shall seize one half his goods; the other half +Comes to the privy coffer of the state; +And the offender's life lies in the mercy +Of the duke only, 'gainst all other voice. +In which predicament, I say, thou stand'st; +For it appears, by manifest proceeding, +That indirectly and directly too +Thou hast contrived against the very life +Of the defendant; and thou hast incurr'd +The danger formerly by me rehearsed. +Down, therefore, and beg mercy of the duke. + + _Gra_. Beg that thou mayst have leave to hang thyself: +And yet, thy wealth being forfeit to the state, +Thou hast not left the value of a cord; +Therefore, thou must be hang'd at the state's charge. + + _Duke_. That thou shalt see the difference of our spirit, +I pardon thee thy life before thou ask it: +For half thy wealth, it is Antonio's; +The other half comes to the general state, +Which humbleness may drive unto a fine. + + _Por_. Ay, for the state, not for Antonio. + + _Shy_. Nay, take my life and all; pardon not that: +You take my house when you do take the prop +That doth sustain my house; you take my life +When you do take the means whereby I live. + + _Por_. What mercy can you render him, Antonio? + + _Gra_. A halter gratis; nothing else, for God's sake. + + _Ant_. So please my lord the duke, and all the court +To quit the fine for one half of his goods; +I am content, so he will let me have +The other half in use, to render it, +Upon his death, unto the gentleman +That lately stole his daughter. + + * * * * * + + _Por_. Art thou contented, Jew? what dost thou say? + + _Shy_. I am content. + + SHAKESPEARE. + + + + +[Notes: _Merchant of Venice. Obdurate_, with the second syllable long, +which modern usage makes short. + + +_Frellen_--agitated. A form of participial termination frequently found +in Shakespeare, as _strucken_, &c. It is preserved in _eaten, given, +&c._ + + +_Within his danger_ = in danger of him. + + +_Which humbleness may drive unto a fine_ = which with humility on your +part may be commuted for a fine.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + + IL PENSEROSO. + + Hence vain deluding Joys, + The brood of Folly, without father bred! + How little you bestead, + Or fill the fixed mind with all your toys! + Dwell in some idle brain, + And fancies fond with gaudy shapes possess, + As thick and numberless + As the gay motes that people the sunbeams. + Or likest hovering dreams, + The fickle pensioners of Morpheus' train. + + But hail, thou Goddess, sage and holy! + Hail, divinest Melancholy! + Whose saintly visage is too bright + To hit the sense of human sight, + And therefore to our weaker view + O'erlaid with black, staid Wisdom's hue: + Black, but such as in esteem + Prince Memnon's sister might beseem + Or that starred Ethiop queen that strove + To set her beauty's praise above + The Sea-Nymphs, and their powers offended; + Yet thou art higher far descended; + Thee bright-haired Vesta, long of yore + To solitary Saturn bore; + His daughter she; in Saturn's reign + Such mixture was not held a stain: + Oft in glimmering bowers and glades + He met her, and in secret shades + Of woody Ida's inmost grove, + While yet there was no fear of Jove. + Come, pensive nun, devout and pure, + Sober, steadfast, and demure + All in a robe of darkest grain, + Flowing with majestic train + And sable stole of cyprus lawn, + Over thy decent shoulders drawn. + Come, but keep thy wonted state, + With even step and musing gait, + And looks commercing with the skies, + Thy rapt soul sitting in thine eyes; + There, held in holy passion still, + Forget thyself to marble, till + With a sad leaden downward cast, + Thou fix them on the earth as fast; + And join with thee calm Peace and Quiet, + Spare Fast, that oft with gods doth diet. + And hears the Muses in a ring + Aye round about Jove's altar sing; + And add to these retired Leisure, + That in trim gardens takes his pleasure; + But first, and chiefest, with thee bring + Him that yon soars on golden wing, + Guiding the fiery-wheeled throne, + The cherub Contemplation; + And the mute Silence hist along, + 'Less Philomel will deign a song + In her sweetest, saddest plight, + Smoothing the rugged brow of Night, + While Cynthia checks her dragon yoke, + Gently o'er the accustomed oak; + --Sweet bird, that shunn'st the noise of folly, + Most musical, most melancholy; + Thee, chauntress, oft, the woods among + I woo, to hear thy even-song; + And missing thee, I walk unseen, + On the dry smooth-shaven green, + To behold the wandering Moon, + Riding near her highest noon, + Like one that had been led astray + Through the heaven's wide pathless way; + And oft, as if her head she bowed, + Stooping through a fleecy cloud. + Oft, on a plat of rising ground, + I hear the far-off Curfew sound + Over some wide-watered shore, + Swinging slow with sullen roar. + Or, if the air will not permit, + Some still, removed place will fit, + Where glowing embers through the room + Teach light to counterfeit a gloom, + Far from all resort of mirth, + Save the cricket on the hearth, + Or the bellman's drowsy charm, + To bless the doors from nightly harm. + Or let my lamp at midnight hour + Be seen on some high lonely tower, + Where I may oft out-watch the Bear + With thrice-great Hermes, or unsphere + The spirit of Plato, to unfold + What worlds, or what vast regions hold + The immortal mind, that hath forsook + Her mansion in this fleshly nook; + And of those demons that are found + In fire air, flood, or under ground, + Whose power hath a true consent + With planet, or with element. + Sometime let gorgeous Tragedy + In sceptered pall come sweeping by, + Presenting Thebes, or Pelops' line, + Or the tale of Troy divine, + Or what (though rare) of later age + Ennobled hath the buskined stage. + But, O sad Virgin, that thy power + Might raise Musaeus from his bower, + Or bid the soul of Orpheus sing + Such notes as, warbled to the string, + Drew iron tears down Pluto's cheek, + And made Hell grant what Love did seek! + Or call up him that left half-told + The story of Cambuscan bold, + Of Camball, and of Algarsife, + And who had Canace to wife + That owned the virtuous ring and glass; + And of the wondrous horse of brass + On which the Tartar king did ride; + And if aught else great bards beside + In sage and solemn tunes have sung, + Of tourneys and of trophies hung, + Of forests and enchantments drear, + Where more is meant than meets the ear. + Thus Night, oft see me in thy pale career, + Till civil-suited Morn appear. + Not tricked and frounced as she was wont + With the Attic Boy to hunt, + But kerchiefed in a comely cloud + While rocking winds are piping loud, + Or ushered with a shower still, + When the gust hath blown his fill, + Ending on the rustling leaves, + With minute drops from off the eaves. + And when the sun begins to fling + His flaring beams, me, Goddess, bring + To arched walks of twilight groves, + And shadows brown, that Sylvan loves, + Of pine or monumental oak, + Where the rude axe, with heaved stroke, + Was never heard the nymphs to daunt, + Or fright them from their hallowed haunt. + There in close covert by some brook + Where no profaner eye may look, + Hide me from Day's garish eye, + While the bee with honeyed thigh, + That at her flowery work doth sing, + And the waters murmuring, + With such concert as they keep, + Entice the dewy-feathered Sleep: + And let some strange mysterious dream + Wave at his wings in airy stream + Of lively portraiture displayed, + Softly on my eyelids laid: + And as I wake sweet music breathe + Above, about, or underneath, + Sent by some spirit to mortals good, + Or the unseen Genius of the wood. + But let my due feet never fail, + To walk the studious cloister's pale, + And love the high embowed roof, + With antique pillars massy proof, + And storied windows richly dight, + Casting a dim religious light. + There let the pealing organ blow, + To the full-voiced quire below, + In service high, and anthems clear, + As may with sweetness, through mine ear + Dissolve me into ecstasies, + And bring all Heaven before mine eyes. + And may at last my weary age + Find out the peaceful hermitage. + The hairy gown and mossy cell + Where I may sit and rightly spell + Of every star that heaven doth show, + And every herb that sips the dew; + Till old Experience do attain + To something like prophetic strain. + These pleasures, Melancholy, give, + And I with thee will choose to live. + + MILTON. + + + +[Notes: _Il Penscioso_ = the thoughtful man. + + +_Bestead_ = help, stand in good stead. + + +_Fond_ = foolish; its old meaning. + + +_Pensioners_. A word taken from the name of Elizabeth's body-guard. +Compare "the cowslips tall her pensioners be" ('Midsummer Night's +Dream'). + + +_Prince Memnon_, of Ethiopia, fairest of warriors, slain by Achilles +(Homer's Odyssey, Book xi.). His sister was Hemora. + + +_Starred Ethiop Queen_ = Cassiope, wife of King Cepheus, who was placed +among the stars. + + +_Sea-nymphs_ = Nereids. + + +Vesta_, the Goddess of the hearth; here for _Retirement. Saturn_, as +having introduced, according to the mythology, civilization, here stands +for _culture_. + + +_Commercing_ = holding communion with. Notice the accentuation. + + +_Forget thyself to marble_ = forget thyself till thou are still and +silent as marble. + + +_Hist along_ = bring along with a hush. _Hist_ is connected with _hush_. + + +_Philomel_ = the nightingale. + + +_Cynthia_ = the moon. + + +_Dragon yoke_. Compare "Night's swift dragons," ('Midsummer Night's +Dream'). + + +_Removed place_ = remote or retired place. Compare "some removed ground" +in 'Hamlet.' + + +_Nightly_ = by night. Sometimes it means "every night successively." + + +_Thrice-great Hermes_, a translation of Hermes Trismegistus, a fabulous +king of Egypt, held to be the inventor of Alchemy and Astronomy. + + +_Unsphere_, draw from his sphere or station. + + +_The immortal mind_. Plato treats of the immortality of the soul chiefly +in the _Phaedo_. The _demon_, with Socrates, is the attendant genius +of an individual; with Plato it is more general; and the assigning the +demons to the four elements is a notion of the later Platonists. + + +_Sceptered pall_ = royal robe. + + +_Presenting Thebes_, &c. These lines represent the subjects of tragedies +by Aeschylus, Sophocles, and Euripides, the great tragic poets of +Athens. + + +_Musaeus_, here for some bard of the distant past, generally. Musaeus, +in mythology, is a bard of Thrace, and son of Orpheus. + + +_Half-told the story of Cambuscan bold_. The Squire's Tale in Chaucer, +which is broken off in the middle. + + +_Camball_, Cambuscan's son. _Algarsife and Canace_, his wife and +daughter. + + +_Frounced_. Used of hair twisted and curled. + + +_The Attic Boy_ = _Cephalus_, loved by _Eos_, the Morning. + + +_A shower still_ = a soft shower. + + +_Sylvan_ = Pan or Sylvanus. + + +_Cloister's pale_ = cloister's enclosure. + + +_Massy proof_. Massive and proof against the weight above them.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +AFRICAN HOSPITALITY. + + +As we approached the town, I was fortunate enough to overtake the +fugitive Kaartans to whose kindness I had been so much indebted in my +journey through Bambarra. They readily agreed to introduce me to the +King; and we rode together through some marshy ground where, as I was +anxiously looking around for the river, one of them called out, _geo +affili_ (see the water), and looking forwards, I saw with infinite +pleasure the great object of my mission--the long sought for majestic +Niger, glittering to the morning sun, as broad as the Thames at +Westminster, and flowing slowly _to the eastward_. I hastened to the +brink, and having drank of the water, lifted up my fervent thanks in +prayer to the Great Ruler of all things, for having thus far crowned my +endeavours with success. + +The circumstance of the Niger's flowing towards the east, and its +collateral points, did not, however, excite my surprise; for although I +had left Europe in great hesitation on this subject, and rather believed +that it ran in the contrary direction, I had made such frequent +inquiries during my progress concerning this river, and received from +negroes of different nations such clear and decisive assurance that its +general course was _towards the rising sun_, as scarce left any doubt on +my mind; and more especially as I knew that Major Houghton had collected +similar information in the same manner. + +I waited more than two hours without having an opportunity of crossing +the river; during which time, the people who had crossed carried +information to Mansong, the King, that a white man was waiting for a +passage, and was coming to see him. He immediately sent over one of his +chief men, who informed me that the King could not possibly see me +until he knew what had brought me into his country; and that I must not +presume to cross the river without the King's permission. He therefore +advised me to lodge at a distant village, to which he pointed, for +the night; and said that in the morning he would give me further +instructions how to conduct myself. This was very discouraging. However, +as there was no remedy, I set off for the village; where I found, to my +great mortification, that no person would admit me into his house. I +was regarded with astonishment and fear, and was obliged to sit all day +without victuals in the shade of a tree; and the night threatened to be +very uncomfortable, for the wind rose, and there was great appearance +of a heavy rain; and the wild beasts are so very numerous in the +neighbourhood that I should have been under the necessity of climbing up +the tree, and resting among the branches. About sunset, however, as I +was preparing to pass the night in this manner, and had turned my horse +loose that he might graze at liberty, a woman, returning from the +labours of the field, stopped to observe me, and perceiving that I +was weary and dejected, inquired into my situation, which I briefly +explained to her; whereupon, with looks of great compassion, she took up +my saddle and bridle and told me to follow her. Having conducted me into +her hut, she lighted up a lamp, spread a mat on the floor, and told me +I might remain there for the night. Finding that I was very hungry, she +said she would procure me something to eat. She accordingly went out, +and returned in a short time with a very fine fish; which having caused +to be half broiled upon some embers, she gave me for supper. The rites +of hospitality being thus performed towards a stranger in distress, my +worthy benefactress (pointing to the mat, and telling me I might sleep +there without apprehension), called to the female part of her family, +who had stood gazing on me all the while in fixed astonishment, to +resume their task of spinning cotton, in which they continued to employ +themselves great part of the night. They lightened their labour by +songs, one of which was composed extempore; for I was myself the subject +of it. It was sung by one of the young women, the rest joining in a sort +of chorus. The air was sweet and plaintive, and the words, literally +translated, were these:--"The winds roared and the rains fell. The +white man, faint and weary, came and sat our tree. He has no mother to +bring him milk, no wife to grind his corn." _Chorus_--"Let us pity the +white man; no mother has he," etc., etc. Trifling as this recital may +appear to the reader, to a person in my situation the circumstance was +affecting in the highest degree. I was oppressed by such unexpected +kindness, and sleep fled from my eyes. In the morning I presented my +compassionate landlady with two of the four brass buttons which remained +on my waistcoat; the only recompense I could make her. + + MUNGO PARK. + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +ACROSS THE DESERT OF NUBIA. + + +After a prayer of peace, we committed ourselves to the Desert. Our party +consisted of Ismael the Turk, two Greek servants besides Georgis, who +was almost blind and useless, two Barbarins, who took care of the +camels, Idris, and a young man a relation of his; in all nine persons. +We were all well armed with blunderbusses, swords, pistols, and +double-barrelled guns, except Idris and his lad, who had lances, the +only arms they could use. Five or six naked wretches of the Turcorory +joined us at the watering place, much against my will, for I knew that +we should probably be reduced to the disagreeable alternative of either +seeing them perish of thirst before our eyes, or, by assisting them, +running a great risk of perishing along with them. + +We left Gooz on the 9th of November, at noon, and halted at the little +village of Hassa, where we filled our water-skins--an operation which +occupied a whole day, as we had to take every means to secure them from +leaking or evaporation. While the camels were loading, I bathed myself +with infinite pleasure for a long half hour in the Nile, and thus took +leave of my old acquaintance, very doubtful if we should ever meet +again. We then turned to the north-east, leaving the Nile, and entering +into a bare desert of fixed gravel, without trees, and of a very +disagreeable whitish colour, mixed with small pieces of white marble, +like alabaster. Our camels, we found, were too heavily loaded; but +we comforted ourselves with the reflection, that this fault would +be remedied by the daily consumption of our provisions. We had been +travelling only two days when our misfortunes began, from a circumstance +we had not attended to. Our shoes, that had long needed repair, became +at last absolutely useless, and our feet were much inflamed by the +burning sand. + +On the 13th, we saw, about a mile to the northwest of us, Hambily, a +rock not considerable in size, but, from the plain country in which it +is situated, having the appearance of a great tower or castle. South +of it were too smaller hills, forming, along with it, landmarks of the +utmost consequence to caravans, because they are too considerable in +size to be at any time covered by the moving sands. We alighted on the +following day among some acacia trees, after travelling about twenty +miles. We were here at once surprised and terrified by a sight, surely +one of the most magnificent in the world. In that vast expanse of +desert, we saw a number of prodigious pillars of sand at different +distances, at one time moving with great celerity, at another stalking +on with majestic slowness. At intervals we thought they were coming to +overwhelm us; and again they would retreat, so as to be almost out of +sight, their tops reaching to the very clouds. There the tops often +separated from the bodies; and these, once disjoined, dispersed in +the air, and did not appear more. Sometimes they were broken near the +middle, as if struck with a large cannon shot. About noon, they began to +advance with considerable swiftness upon us, the wind being very strong +at north. Eleven of them ranged alongside of us, about the distance of +three miles. The greatest diameter of the largest appeared to me at that +distance as if it would measure ten feet. They retired from us with a +wind at S.E., leaving an impression upon my mind to which I can give no +name, though surely one ingredient in it was fear, with a considerable +deal of wonder and astonishment. It was vain to think of flying; the +swiftest horse, or fastest sailing ship, could be of no use to carry us +out of this danger; and the full persuasion of this rivetted me to the +spot where I stood, and let the camels gain on me so much, that, in my +state of lameness, it was with some difficulty I could overtake them. +The effect this stupendous sight had upon Idris was to set him to his +prayers, or rather to his charms; for, except the names of God and +Mahomet, all the rest of his words were mere gibberish and nonsense. +Ismael the Turk violently abused him for not praying in the words of the +Koran, at the same time maintaining, with great apparent wisdom, that +nobody had charms to stop these moving sands but the inhabitants of +Arabia Deserta. + +From this day subordination, though it did not entirely cease, rapidly +declined; all was discontent, murmuring, and fear. Our water was greatly +diminished, and that terrible death by thirst began to stare us in the +face, owing, in a great measure, to our own imprudence. Ismael, who had +been left sentinel over the skins of water, had slept so soundly, that +a Turcorory had opened one of the skins that had not been touched, in +order to serve himself out of it at his own discretion. I suppose +that, hearing somebody stir, and fearing detection, the Turcorory had +withdrawn himself as speedily as possible, without tying up the month of +the girba, which we found in the morning with scarce a quart of water in +it. + +On the 16th, our men, if not gay, were in better spirits than I had seen +them since we left Gooz. The rugged top of Chiggre was before us, and we +knew that there we would solace ourselves with plenty of good water. As +we were advancing, Idris suddenly cried out, "Fall upon your faces, for +here is the simoom!" I saw from the southeast a haze come, in colour +like the purple part of the rainbow, but not so compressed or thick. It +did not occupy twenty yards in breadth, and was about twelve feet high +from the ground. It was a kind of blush upon the air, and moved very +rapidly, for I scarce could turn to fall upon the ground, with my head +to the northward, when I felt the heat of its current plainly upon my +face. We all lay flat on the ground, as if dead, till Idris told us it +was blown over. The meteor or purple haze which I saw was indeed past, +but the light air that still blew was of a heat to threaten suffocation. +For my part, I found distinctly in my breast that I had imbibed a part +of it, nor was I free from an asthmatic sensation till I had been some +months in Italy, at the baths of Poretta, nearly two years afterwards. + +This phenomenon of the simoom, unexpected by us, though foreseen by +Idris, caused us all to relapse into our former despondency. It still +continued to blow, so as to exhaust us entirely, though the blast was +so weak as scarcely would have raised a leaf from the ground. Towards +evening it ceased; and a cooling breeze came from the north, blowing +five or six minutes at a time, and then falling calm. We reached Chiggre +that night, very much fatigued. + + BRUCE'S TRAVELS. + + + +[Note:_James Bruce_ (born 1730, died 1794), the African traveller; one +of the early explorers of the Nile.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +A SHIPWRECK ON THE ARABIAN COAST. + + +Another hour of struggle! It was past midnight, or thereabout, and the +storm, instead of abating, blew stronger and stronger. A passenger, one +of the three on the beam astern, felt too numb and wearied out to +retain his hold by the spar any longer; he left it, and swimming with a +desperate effort up to the boat, begged in God's name to be taken in. +Some were for granting his request, others for denying; at last two +sailors, moved with pity, laid hold of his arms where he clung to the +boat's side, and helped him in. We were now thirteen together, and the +boat rode lower down in the water and with more danger than ever: it was +literally a hand's breadth between life and death. Soon after another, +Ibraheem by name, and also a passenger, made a similar attempt to gain +admittance. To comply would have been sheer madness; but the poor wretch +clung to the gunwale, and struggled to clamber over, till the nearest +of the crew, after vainly entreating him to quit hold and return to the +beam, saying, "It is your only chance of life, you must keep to it," +loosened his grasp by main force, and flung him back into the sea, where +he disappeared for ever. "Has Ibraheem reached you?" called out the +captain to the sailor now alone astride of the spar. "Ibraheem is +drowned," came the answer across the waves. "Is drowned," all repeated +in an undertone, adding, "and we too shall soon be drowned also." In +fact, such seemed the only probable end of all our endeavours. For the +storm redoubled in violence; the baling could no longer keep up with the +rate at which the waves entered; the boat became waterlogged; the water +poured in hissing on every side: she was sinking, and we were yet far +out in the open sea. + +"Plunge for it!" a second time shouted the captain. "Plunge who may, I +will stay by the boat so long as the boat stays by me," thought I, and +kept my place. Yoosef, fortunately for him, was lying like a corpse, +past fear or motion; but four of our party, one a sailor and the other +three passengers, thinking that all hope of the boat was now over, and +that nothing remained them but the spar, jumped into the sea. Their loss +saved the remainder; the boat lightened and righted for a moment, the +pilot and I baled away desperately; she rose clear once more of the +water. Those in her were now nine in all--eight men and a boy, the +captain's nephew. + +Meanwhile the sea was running mountains; and during the paroxysm of +struggle, while the boat pitched heavily, the cord attached from her +stern to the beam snapped asunder. One man was on the spar. Yet a minute +or so the moonlight showed us the heads of the five survivors as they +tried to regain the boat; had they done it we were all lost; then a huge +wave separated them from us. "May God have mercy on the poor drowning +men!" exclaimed the captain: their bodies were washed ashore three or +four days later. We now remained sole survivors--if, indeed, we were to +prove so. + +Our men rowed hard, and the night wore on; at last the coast came in +full view. Before us was a high black rock, jutting out into the foaming +sea, whence it rose sheer like the wall of a fortress; at some distance +on the left a peculiar glimmer and a long white line of breakers assured +me of the existence of an even and sandy beach. The three sailors now at +the oars, and the passenger who had taken the place of the fourth, grown +reckless by long toil under the momentary expectation of death, and +longing to see an end anyhow to this protracted misery, were for pushing +the boat on the rocks, because the nearest land, and thus having it all +over as soon as possible. This would have been certain destruction. +The captain and pilot, well nigh stupefied by what they had undergone, +offered no opposition. I saw that a vigorous effort must be made; so I +laid hold of them both, shook them to arouse their attention, and bade +them take heed to what the rowers were about; adding that it was sheer +suicide, and that our only hope of life was to bear up for the sandy +creek, which I pointed out to them at a short distance. + +Thus awakened from their lethargy, they started up, and joined with me +in expostulating with the sailors. But the men doggedly answered that +they could hold out no more; that wherever the land was nearest they +would make for it, come what might; and with this they pulled on +straight towards the cliff. + +The captain hastily thrust the rudder into the pilot's hand, and +springing on one of the sailors, pushed him from the bench and seized +his oar, while I did the same to another on the opposite side; and we +now got the boat's head round towards the bay. The refractory sailors, +ashamed of their own faintheartedness, begged pardon, and promised to +act henceforth according to our orders. We gave them back their oars, +very glad to see a strife so dangerous, especially at such a moment, +soon at an end; and the men pulled for left, though full half an hour's +rowing yet remained between us and the breakers; and the course which +we had to hold was more hazardous than before, because it laid the boat +almost parallel with the sweep of the water: but half an hour! yet I +thought we should never come opposite the desired spot. + +At last we neared it, and then a new danger appeared. The first row of +breakers, rolling like a cataract, was still far off shore, at least a +hundred yards; and between it and the beach appeared a white yeast of +raging waters, evidently ten or twelve feet deep, through which, weary +as we all were, and benumbed with the night-chill and the unceasing +splash of the spray over us, I felt it to be very doubtful whether we +should have strength to struggle. But there was no avoiding it; and when +we drew near the long white line which glittered like a watchfire in the +night, I called out to Yoosef and the lad, both of whom lay plunged +in deathlike stupor, to rise and get ready for the hard swim, now +inevitable. They stood up, the sailors laid aside their oars, and a +moment after the curling wave capsized the boat, and sent her down as +though she had been struck by a cannon-shot, while we remained to fight +for our lives in the sea. + +Confident in my own swimming powers, but doubtful how far those of +Yoosef might reach, I at once turned to look for him; and seeing him +close by me in the water, I caught hold of him, telling him to hold fast +on, and I would help him to land. But, with much presence of mind, he +thrust back my grasp, exclaiming, "Save yourself! I am a good swimmer; +never fear for me." The captain and the young sailor laid hold of the +boy, the captain's nephew, one on either side, and struck out with him +for the shore. It was a desperate effort; every wave overwhelmed us in +its burst, and carried us back in its eddy, while I drank much more salt +water than was at all desirable. At last, after some minutes, long as +hours, I touched land, and scrambled up the sandy beach as though +the avenger of blood had been behind me. One by one the rest came +ashore--some stark naked, having cast off or lost their remaining +clothes in the whirling eddies; others yet retaining some part of their +dress. Every one looked around to see whether his companions arrived; +and when all nine stood together on the beach, all cast themselves +prostrate on the sands, to thank Heaven for a new lease of life granted +after much danger and so many comrades lost. + + W.G. PALGRAVE. + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +AN ARABIAN TOWN. + + +Perhaps my readers will not think it loss of time to accompany us on a +morning visit to the camp and market, to the village gardens and wells; +such visits we often paid, not without interest and pleasure. + +Warm though Raseem is, its mornings, at least at this time of year (the +latter part of September), were delightful. In a pure and mistless sky, +the sun rises over the measureless plain, while the early breeze is yet +cool and invigorating, a privilege enjoyed almost invariably in Arabia, +but wanting too often in Egypt in the west, and India in the east. +At this hour we would often thread the streets by which we had first +entered the town, and go betimes to the Persian camp, where all was +already alive and stirring. Here are arranged on the sand, baskets full +of eggs and dates, flanked by piles of bread and little round cakes of +white butter; bundles of fire-wood are heaped up close by, and pails +of goat's or camel's milk abound; and amid all these sit rows of +countrywomen, haggling with tall Persians, who in broken Arabic try to +beat down the prices, and generally end by paying only double what +they ought. The swaggering, broad-faced, Bagdad camel-drivers, and +ill-looking, sallow youths stand idle everywhere, insulting those whom +they dare, and cringing to their betters like slaves. Persian gentlemen, +too, with grand hooked noses, high caps, and quaintly-cut dresses of gay +patterns, saunter about, discussing their grievances, or quarrelling +with each other, to pass the time, for, unlike an Arab, a Persian shows +at once whatever ill-humour he may feel, and has no shame in giving it +utterance before whomever may be present; nor does he, with the Arab, +consider patience to be and essential point of politeness and dignity. +Not a few of the townsmen are here, chatting or bartering; and Bedouins, +switch in hand. If you ask any chance individual among these latter +what has brought him hither, you may be sure beforehand that the word +"camel," in one or other of its forms of detail, will find place in the +answer. Criers are going up and down the camp with articles of Persian +apparel, cooking pots, and ornaments of various descriptions in their +hands, or carrying them off for higher bidding to the town. + +Having made our morning household purchases at the fair, and the sun +being now an hour or more above the horizon, we think it time to visit +the market-place of the town, which would hardly be open sooner. We +re-enter the city gate, and pass on our way by our house door, where we +leave our bundle of eatables, and regain the high street of Berezdah. +Before long we reach a high arch across the road; this gate divides the +market from the rest of the quarter. We enter. First of all we see a +long range of butchers' shops on either side, thickly hung with flesh of +sheep and camel, and very dirtily kept. Were not the air pure and the +climate healthy, the plague would assuredly be endemic here; but in +Arabia no special harm seems to follow. We hasten on, and next pass +a series of cloth and linen warehouses, stocked partly with +home-manufacture, but more imported; Bagdad cloaks and head-gear, for +instance; Syrian shawls and Egyptian slippers. Here markets follow the +law general throughout the East, that all shops or stores of the same +description should be clustered together; a system whose advantages on +the whole outweigh its inconveniences, at least for small towns like +these, in the large cities and capitals of Europe, greater extent of +locality requires evidently a different method of arrangement: it might +be awkward for the inhabitants of Hyde Park were no hatters to be +found nearer than the Tower. But what is Berezdah compared even with a +second-rate European city? However, in a crowd, it yields to none: the +streets at this time of the day are thronged to choking, and, to make +matters worse, a huge splay-footed camel every now and then, heaving +from side to side like a lubber-rowed boat, with a long beam on his +back, menacing the heads of those in the way, or with two enormous loads +of fire-wood, each as large as himself, sweeping the road before him of +men, women, and children, while the driver, high perched on the hump, +regards such trifles with supreme indifference, so long as he brushes +his path open. Sometimes there is a whole string of these beasts, +the head-rope of each tied to the crupper of his precursor--very +uncomfortable passengers when met with at a narrow turning. + +Through such obstacles we have found or made our way, and are now amid +leather and shoemakers' shops, then among copper and iron-smiths, till +at last we emerge on the central town-square, not a bad one either, nor +very irregular, considering that it is in Raseem. About half one side +is taken up by the great mosque, an edifice nearly two centuries old, +judging by its style and appearance, but it bears on no part of it +either date or inscription. A crack running up one side of the tower +bears witness to an earthquake said to have occurred here about thirty +years since. + +Another side of the square is formed by an open gallery. In its shade +groups of citizens are seated discussing news or business. The central +space is occupied by camels and by bales of various goods, among which +the coffee of Yemen, henna, and saffron, bear a large part. + +From this square several diverging streets run out, each containing a +market-place for this or that ware, and all ending in portals dividing +them from the ordinary habitations. The vegetable and fruit market is +very extensive, and kept almost exclusively by women; so are also the +shops for grocery and spices. + +Rock-salt of remarkable purity and whiteness, from Western Raseem, is +a common article of sale, and enormous flakes of it, often beautifully +crystallized, lay piled up at the shop doors. Sometimes a Persian stood +by, trying his skill at purchase or exchange; but these pilgrims were +in general shy of entering the town, where, truly, they were not in the +best repute. Well-dressed, grave-looking townsmen abound, their yellow +wand of lotus-wood in their hands, and their kerchiefs loosely thrown +over their heads. + +The whole town has an aspect of old but declining prosperity. There are +few new houses, but many falling into ruin. The faces, too, of most we +meet are serious, and their voices in an undertone. Silk dresses are +prohibited by the dominant faction, and tobacco can only be smoked +within doors, and by stealth. + +Enough of the town: the streets are narrow, hot, and dusty; the day, +too, advances; but the gardens are yet cool. So we dash at a venture +through a labyrinth of byways and crossways till we find ourselves in +the wide street that runs immediately along but inside the walls. + +Here is a side gate, but half ruined, with great folding doors, and no +one to open them. The wall of one of the flanking towers has, however, +been broken in, and from thence we hope to find outlet on the gardens +outside. We clamber in, and after mounting a heap of rubbish, once the +foot of a winding staircase, have before us a window looking right on +the gardens. Fortunately we are not the first to try this short cut, and +the truant boys of the town have sufficiently enlarged the aperture and +piled up stones on the ground outside to render the passage tolerably +easy; we follow the indication, and in another minute stand in the open +air without the walls. The breeze is fresh, and will continue so till +noon. Before us are high palm-trees and dark shadows; the ground is +velvet-green with the autumn crop of maize and vetches, and intersected +by a labyrinth of watercourses, some dry, others flowing, for the wells +are at work. + +These wells are much the same throughout Arabia; their only diversity is +in size and depth, but their hydraulic machinery is everywhere alike. +Over the well's month is fixed a crossbeam, supported high in air on +pillars of wood or stone on either side, and on this beam are from three +to six small wheels, over which pass the ropes of as many large leather +buckets, each containing nearly twice the ordinary English measure. +These are let down into the depth, and then drawn up again by camels +or asses, who pace slowly backwards or forwards on an inclined plane +leading from the edge of the well itself to a pit prolonged for some +distance. When the buckets rise to the verge, they tilt over and pour +out their contents by a broad channel into a reservoir hard by, from +which part the watercourses that irrigate the garden. The supply thus +obtained is necessarily discontinuous, and much inferior to what a +little more skill in mechanism affords in Egypt and Syria; while the +awkward shaping and not unfrequently the ragged condition of the buckets +themselves causes half the liquid to fall back into the well before it +reaches the brim. The creaking, singing noise of the wheels, the rush of +water as the buckets attain their turning-point, the unceasing splash of +their overflow dripping back into the source, all are a message of life +and moisture very welcome in this dry and stilly region, and may be +heard far off amid the sandhills, a first intimation to the sun-scorched +traveller of his approach to a cooler resting-place. + + W.G. PALGRAVE. + + + + + * * * * * + + + + + COURTESY. + + + What virtue is so fitting for a knight, + Or for a lady whom a knight should love, + As courtesy; to bear themselves aright + To all of each degree as doth behove? + For whether they be placed high above + Or low beneath, yet ought they well to know + Their good: that none them rightly may reprove + Of rudeness for not yielding what they owe: + Great skill it is such duties timely to bestow. + Thereto great help Dame Nature's self doth lend: + For some so goodly gracious are by kind, + That every action doth them much commend; + And in the eyes of men great liking find, + Which others that have greater skill in mind, + Though they enforce themselves, cannot attain; + For everything to which one is inclined + Doth best become and greatest grace doth gain; + Yet praise likewise deserve good thewes enforced with pain. + + SPENSER. + + + +[Notes: _Edmund Spenser_ (born 1552, died 1599), the poet who, in +Elizabeth's reign, revived the poetry of England, which since Chaucer's +day, two centuries before, had been flagging. + + +_Gracious are by kind, i.e.,_ by nature. _Kind_ properly means _nature_. + + +_Good thewes_ = good manners or virtues. As _thew_ passes into the +meaning "muscle," so _virtue_ (from _vis_, strength) originally means +_manlike valour_.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +THE QUEST OF THE HOLY GRAIL. + + +Then the King and all estates went home unto Camelot, and so went to +evensong to the great minster. And so after upon that to supper, and +every knight sat in his own place as they were toforehand. Then anon +they heard cracking and crying of thunder, that them thought the place +should all to-drive. In the midst of this blast entered a sunbeam +more clearer by seven times than ever they saw day, and all they were +alighted of the grace of the Holy Ghost. Then began every knight to +behold other, and either saw other by their seeming fairer than ever +they saw afore. Not for then there was no knight might speak one word +a great while, and so they looked every man on other, as they had been +dumb. Then there entered into the hall the Holy Grail, covered with +white samite, but there was none might see it, nor who bare it. And +there was all the hall full filled with good odours, and every knight +had such meats and drinks as he best loved in this world; and when +the Holy Grail had been borne through the hall, then the holy vessel +departed suddenly, that they wist not where it became. Then had they all +breath to speak. And then the King yielded thankings unto God of His +good grace that He had sent them. "Certes," said the King, "we ought to +thank our Lord Jesu greatly, for that he hath shewed us this day at the +reverence of this high feast of Pentecost." "Now," said Sir Gawaine, "we +have been served this day of what meats and drinks we thought on, but +one thing beguiled us: we might not see the Holy Grail, it was so +preciously covered; wherefore I will make here avow, that to-morn, +without longer abiding, I shall labour in the quest of the Sancgreal, +that I shall hold me out a twelvemonth and a day, or more if need be, +and never shall I return again unto the court till I have seen it more +openly than it hath been seen here; and if I may not speed, I shall +return again as he that may not be against the will of our Lord Jesu +Christ." When they of the Table Round heard Sir Gawaine say so, they +arose up the most party, and made such avows as Sir Gawaine had made. + +Anon as King Arthur heard this he was greatly displeased, for he wist +well that they might not again say their avows. "Alas!" said King Arthur +unto Sir Gawaine, "ye have nigh slain me with the avow and promise +that ye have made. For through you ye have bereft me of the fairest +fellowship and the truest of knighthood that ever were seen together in +any realm of the world. For when they depart from hence, I am sure they +all shall never meet more in this world, for they shall die many in the +quest. And so it forethinketh me a little, for I have loved them as well +as my life, wherefore it shall grieve me right sore the departition +of this fellowship. For I have had an old custom to have them in my +fellowship." And therewith the tears filled in his eyes. And then he +said, "Gawaine, Gawaine, ye have set me in great sorrow. For I have +great doubt that my true fellowship shall never meet here again." "Ah," +said Sir Launcelot, "comfort yourself, for it shall be unto us as a +great honour, and much more than if we died in any other places, for of +death we be sure." "Ah, Launcelot," said the King, "the great love +that I have had unto you all the days of my life maketh me to say such +doleful words; for never Christian king had never so many worthy men at +this table as I have had this day at the Round Table, and that is my +great sorrow." When the queen, ladies, and gentlewomen wist these +tidings, they had such sorrow and heaviness that there might no tongue +tell it, for those knights had holden them in honour and charity. + +And when all were armed, save their shields and their helms, then they +came to their fellowship, which all were ready in the same wise for to +go to the minster to hear their service. + +Then, after the service was done, the King would wit how many had taken +the quest of the Holy Grail, and to account them he prayed them all. +Then found they by tale an hundred and fifty, and all were knights of +the Round Table. And then they put on their helms and departed, and +recommended them all wholly unto the queen, and there was weeping and +great sorrow. + +And so they mounted upon their horses and rode through the streets of +Camelot, and there was weeping of the rich and poor, and the King turned +away, and might not speak for weeping. So within a while they came to a +city and a castle that hight Vagon. There they entered into the castle, +and the lord of that castle was an old man that hight Vagon, and he was +a good man of his living, and set open the gates, and made them all the +good cheer that he might. And so on the morrow they were all accorded +that they should depart every each from other. And then they departed on +the morrow with weeping and mourning cheer, and every knight took the +way that him best liked. + + SIR THOMAS MALORY. + + +[Notes: _The Quest of the Holy Grail_. This is taken from the 'Mort +d'Arthur,' written about the end of the fifteenth century by Sir Thomas +Malory, and one of the first books printed in England by Caxton. King +Arthur was at the head and centre of the company of Knights of the Table +Bound. The _Holy Grail_, or the _Sangreal,_ was the dish said to have +held the Paschal lamb at the Last Supper, and to have been possessed by +Joseph of Arimathea. + +Notice throughout this piece the archaic phrases used.] + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +VISIT TO SIR ROGER DE COVERLEY'S COUNTRY SEAT. + + +Having often received an invitation from my friend Sir Roger de Coverley +to pass away a month with him in the country, I last week accompanied +him thither, and am settled with him for some time at his country-house, +where I intend to form several of my ensuing speculations. Sir Roger, +who is very well acquainted with my humour, lets me rise and go to bed +when I please, dine at his own table or in my own chamber, as I think +fit, sit still and say nothing without bidding me be merry. + +I am the more at ease in Sir Roger's family, because it consists of +sober and staid persons; for, as the knight is the best master in the +world, he seldom changes his servants; and as he is beloved by all +about, his servants never care for leaving him; by this means his +domestics are all in years, and grown old with their master. You would +take his _valet de chambre_ for his brother; his butler is grey-headed, +his groom is one of the gravest men that I have ever seen, and his +coachman has the looks of a Privy Counsellor. You see the goodness of +the master even in the old house-dog, and in a grey pad that is kept in +the stable with great care and tenderness, out of regard for his past +services, though he has been useless for several years. + +I could not but observe, with a great deal of pleasure, the joy that +appeared in the countenance of these ancient domestics upon my friend's +arrival at his country-seat. Some of them could not refrain from tears +at the sight of their old master; every one of them pressed forward to +do something for him, and seemed discouraged if they were not employed. +At the same time the good old knight, with a mixture of a father and the +master of the family, tempered the inquiries after his own affairs with +several kind questions about themselves. This humanity and good-nature +engages everybody to him, so that when he is pleasant upon any of them, +all his family are in good-humour, and none so much as the person he +diverts himself with. On the contrary, if he coughs, or betrays any +infirmity of old age, it is easy for a stander-by to observe a secret +concern in the looks of all his servants. + +My chief companion, when Sir Roger is diverting himself in the woods or +the fields, is a very venerable man who is ever with Sir Roger, and has +lived at his house in the nature of a chaplain above thirty years. This +gentleman is a person of good sense and some learning; of a very regular +life and obliging conversation: he heartily loves Sir Roger, and knows +that he is very much in the old knight's esteem, so that he lives in the +family rather as a relation than a dependent. + +I have observed in several of my papers, that my friend Sir Roger, +amidst all his good qualities, is something of a humorist; and that his +virtues, as well as imperfections, are, as it were, tinged by a certain +extravagance which makes them particularly _his_, and distinguishes them +from those of other men. This cast of mind, as it is generally very +innocent in itself, so it renders his conversation highly agreeable, and +more delightful than the same degree of sense and virtue would appear in +their common and ordinary colours. As I was walking with him last night, +he asked me how I liked the good man I have just now mentioned? And +without staying for an answer, told me, "That he was afraid of being +insulted with Latin and Greek at his own table; for which reason he +desired a particular friend of his at the University to find him out a +clergyman rather of plain sense than much learning; of a good aspect, a +clear voice, a sociable temper, and, if possible, a man that understood +a little of backgammon. My friend," says Sir Roger, "found me out this +gentleman, who, besides the endowments required of him, is, they tell +me, a good scholar, though he does not show it. I have given him the +parsonage of the parish; and, because I know his value, have settled +upon him a good annuity for life. If he outlives me, he shall find that +he was higher in my esteem than perhaps he thinks he is. He has now been +with me thirty years, and though he does not know I have taken notice of +it, has never in all that time asked anything of me for himself, though +he is every day soliciting me for something in behalf of one or other +of my tenants, his parishioners. There has not been a law-suit in the +parish since he has lived among them: if any dispute arises, they apply +themselves to him for the decision; if they do not acquiesce in his +judgment, which I think never happened above once or twice, at most, +they appeal to me. At his first settling with me, I made him a present +of all the good sermons that have been printed in English, and only +begged of him that every Sunday he would pronounce one of them in the +pulpit. Accordingly, he has digested them into such a series, that they +follow one another naturally, and make a continued series of practical +divinity." + + ADDISON. + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +THE DEAD ASS. + + +"And this," said he, putting the remains of a crust into his wallet, +"and this should have been thy portion," said he, "hadst thou been alive +to have shared it with me." I thought by the accent it had been an +apostrophe to his child; but 'twas to his ass, and to the very ass we +had seen dead on the road. The man seemed to lament it much; and it +instantly brought into my mind Sancho's lamentation for his; but he did +it with more true touches of nature. + +The mourner was sitting on a stone bench at the door, with the ass's +pannel and its bridle on one side, which he took up from time to +time--then laid them down--looked at them--and shook his head. He then +took his crust of bread out of his wallet again, as if to eat it; +held it some time in his hand--then laid it upon the bit of his ass's +bridle--looked wistfully at the little arrangement he had made--and then +gave a sigh. + +The simplicity of his grief drew numbers about him, and La Fleur among +the rest, whilst the horses were getting ready; as I continued sitting +in the postchaise, I could see and hear over their heads. + +He said he had come last from Spain, where he had been from the farthest +borders of Franconia; and he had got so far on his return home, when his +ass died. Every one seemed desirous to know what business could have +taken so old and poor a man so far a journey from his own home. + +"It had pleased heaven," he said, "to bless him with three sons, the +finest lads in all Germany; but having in one week lost two of them by +the small-pox, and the youngest falling ill of the same distemper, he +was afraid of being bereft of them all; and made a vow, if Heaven would +not take him from him also, he would go in gratitude to St. Iago, in +Spain." + +When the mourner got thus far on his story, he stopped to pay nature her +tribute, and wept bitterly. + +He said Heaven had accepted the conditions, and that he had set out from +his cottage, with this poor creature, who had been a patient partner of +his journey--that it had eat the same bread with him all the way, and +was unto him as a friend. + +Everybody who stood about heard the poor fellow with concern. La Fleur +offered him money; the mourner said he did not want it; it was not the +value of the ass, but the loss of him. "The ass," he said, "he was +assured, loved him;" and upon this, told them a long story of a +mischance upon their passage over the Pyrenean mountains, which had +separated them from each other three days; during which time the ass had +sought him as much as he had sought the ass, and they had neither scarce +eat or drank till they met. + +"Thou hast one comfort, friend," said I, "at least in the loss of the +poor beast; I'm sure thou hast been a merciful master to him." "Alas!" +said the mourner, "I thought so when he was alive; but now he is dead I +think otherwise. I fear the weight of myself and my afflictions together +have been too much for him--they have shortened the poor creature's +days, and I fear I have them to answer for." "Shame on the world!" said +I to myself. "Did we love each other as this poor soul but loved his +ass, 'twould be something." + + STERNE. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of MacMillan's Reading Books, by Anonymous + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MACMILLAN'S READING BOOKS *** + +***** This file should be named 11230.txt or 11230.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/1/2/3/11230/ + +Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Frank van Drogen and PG Distributed +Proofreaders + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you +do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the +rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose +such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and +research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do +practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is +subject to the trademark license, especially commercial +redistribution. + + + +*** START: FULL LICENSE *** + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project +Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at +https://gutenberg.org/license). + + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy +all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. +If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the +terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or +entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. + +1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement +and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation" +or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the +collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an +individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are +located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from +copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative +works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg +are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project +Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by +freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of +this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with +the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by +keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project +Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in +a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check +the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement +before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or +creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project +Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning +the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United +States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate +access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently +whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the +phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project +Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, +copied or distributed: + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived +from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is +posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied +and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees +or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work +with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the +work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 +through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the +Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or +1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional +terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked +to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the +permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any +word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or +distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than +"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version +posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), +you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a +copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon +request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other +form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided +that + +- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is + owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he + has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the + Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments + must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you + prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax + returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and + sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the + address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to + the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." + +- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or + destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium + and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of + Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any + money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days + of receipt of the work. + +- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set +forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from +both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael +Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the +Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm +collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain +"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual +property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a +computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by +your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right +of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with +your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with +the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a +refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity +providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to +receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy +is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further +opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO +WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. +If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the +law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be +interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by +the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any +provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance +with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, +promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, +harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, +that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do +or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm +work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any +Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. + + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers +including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists +because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from +people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need, is critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. +To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 +and the Foundation web page at https://www.pglaf.org. + + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive +Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at +https://pglaf.org/fundraising. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent +permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. +Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered +throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at +809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email +business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact +information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official +page at https://pglaf.org + +For additional contact information: + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To +SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any +particular state visit https://pglaf.org + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including including checks, online payments and credit card +donations. To donate, please visit: https://pglaf.org/donate + + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm +concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared +with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project +Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + +Each eBook is in a subdirectory of the same number as the eBook's +eBook number, often in several formats including plain vanilla ASCII, +compressed (zipped), HTML and others. + +Corrected EDITIONS of our eBooks replace the old file and take over +the old filename and etext number. The replaced older file is renamed. +VERSIONS based on separate sources are treated as new eBooks receiving +new filenames and etext numbers. + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + https://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. + +EBooks posted prior to November 2003, with eBook numbers BELOW #10000, +are filed in directories based on their release date. If you want to +download any of these eBooks directly, rather than using the regular +search system you may utilize the following addresses and just +download by the etext year. + + https://www.gutenberg.org/etext06 + + (Or /etext 05, 04, 03, 02, 01, 00, 99, + 98, 97, 96, 95, 94, 93, 92, 92, 91 or 90) + +EBooks posted since November 2003, with etext numbers OVER #10000, are +filed in a different way. The year of a release date is no longer part +of the directory path. The path is based on the etext number (which is +identical to the filename). The path to the file is made up of single +digits corresponding to all but the last digit in the filename. For +example an eBook of filename 10234 would be found at: + + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/0/2/3/10234 + +or filename 24689 would be found at: + https://www.gutenberg.org/2/4/6/8/24689 + +An alternative method of locating eBooks: + https://www.gutenberg.org/GUTINDEX.ALL + + diff --git a/old/11230.zip b/old/11230.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..efc5c28 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/11230.zip |