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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf 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..ed05248 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #51003 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/51003) diff --git a/old/51003-0.txt b/old/51003-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 97a69e6..0000000 --- a/old/51003-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,19744 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Poems, Volume 2 (of 3), by George Crabbe - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world 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. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - -Title: Poems, Volume 2 (of 3) - -Author: George Crabbe - -Release Date: January 22, 2016 [EBook #51003] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK POEMS, VOLUME 2 (OF 3) *** - - - - -Produced by Paul Marshall and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images generously made available by The -Internet Archive/Million Book Project) - - - - - -Transcriber's Notes: - Underscores "_" before and after a word or phrase indicate _italics_ - in the original text. - Equals signs "=" before and after a word or phrase indicate =bold= - in the original text. - Small capitals have been converted to BLOCK capitals. - Antiquated spellings have been preserved. - Typographical errors have been silently corrected but other variations - in spelling and punctuation remain unaltered. - Where double quotes have been repeated at the beginnings of - consecutive stanzas, they have been omitted for clarity. - -CAMBRIDGE ENGLISH CLASSICS - - Poems by George Crabbe - - - In Three Volumes - - - GEORGE CRABBE - Born, 1754 - Died, 1832 - - - _GEORGE CRABBE_ - - - POEMS - - - EDITED BY - ADOLPHUS WILLIAM WARD - Litt.D., Hon. LL.D., F.B.A. - Master of Peterhouse - - [Illustration] - - Volume II - - - CAMBRIDGE: - at the University Press - 1906 - - - - - CAMBRIDGE UNIVERSITY PRESS WAREHOUSE - C. F. CLAY, Manager. - _London:_ FETTER LANE, E.C. - _Glasgow:_ 50, WELLINGTON STREET. - - [Illustration] - - _Leipzig:_ F. A. BROCKHAUS. - _New York:_ THE MACMILLAN COMPANY. - _Bombay and Calcutta:_ MACMILLAN AND CO., LTD. - - [_All Rights reserved_] - - - - -PREFACE. - - -The poems contained in this volume, which comprise the whole of the -_Tales_ and the first eleven of the _Tales of the Hall_, are without -exception printed from the edition of 1823, the last of Crabbe’s -works published in this country in his lifetime. - -The _Variants_ in the _Tales_ are from the first edition (1812) and -from the ‘Original MS.’ readings given as footnotes in the younger -Crabbe’s edition of his father’s _Life and Poems_ (1834). The -_Variants_ in the _Tales of the Hall_ are from the first edition -(1819); from the ‘Original MS.’ readings as above; from the Crabbe -MSS. in the possession of the Cambridge University Press (which will -be described in the Preface to Vol. III, where a much fuller use will -be made of them), and from the MSS. in the valuable collection of Mrs -Mackay of Trowbridge, most kindly lent by her for examination and -use (to which the same remark applies). In the present volume will -also be found certain _Addenda_ to the _Variants_ in Vol. I, from the -‘Original MS.’ readings printed by the younger Crabbe. - -Among the _Errata_ in this volume are included a considerable number -of quotations from Shakespeare with wrong indications of acts or -scenes, and occasionally even of the plays from which the passages -are taken. A large proportion of the quotations are in themselves -imperfect, or otherwise incorrect. Perhaps it is stretching a -point to treat all these defects as oversights; sometimes Crabbe -may have made intentional changes, and more frequently he may have -been wilfully careless. No readings which he could have found in any -current edition of Shakespeare have been altered. - -In the preparation of the present volume, I have again enjoyed -the advantage of the friendly aid and cooperation of Mr A. T. -BARTHOLOMEW, to whom I am specially indebted for the compilation of -the _Variants_. Our joint efforts have been occasionally defeated -by the illegibility of passages in the Crabbe MSS. acquired by our -University Press. It is hoped that the third and concluding volume of -this edition, which will contain a considerable amount of previously -unpublished verse, will appear in the course of the summer. - - A. W. WARD. - - PETERHOUSE LODGE, CAMBRIDGE. - _March 19th, 1906._ - - - - - CONTENTS. - - TALES PAGE - I. THE DUMB ORATORS 13 - II. THE PARTING HOUR 27 - III. THE GENTLEMAN FARMER 41 - IV. PROCRASTINATION 56 - V. THE PATRON 67 - VI. THE FRANK COURTSHIP 87 - VII. THE WIDOW’S TALE 101 - VIII. THE MOTHER 113 - IX. ARABELLA 124 - X. THE LOVER’S JOURNEY 134 - XI. EDWARD SHORE 145 - XII. ’SQUIRE THOMAS 159 - XIII. JESSE AND COLIN 170 - XIV. THE STRUGGLES OF CONSCIENCE 185 - XV. THE ’SQUIRE AND THE PRIEST 199 - XVI. THE CONFIDANT 211 - XVII. RESENTMENT 228 - XVIII. THE WAGER 242 - XIX. THE CONVERT 251 - XX. THE BROTHERS 264 - XXI. THE LEARNED BOY 276 - - TALES OF THE HALL - I. THE HALL 302 - II. THE BROTHERS 312 - III. BOYS AT SCHOOL 319 - IV. ADVENTURES OF RICHARD 332 - V. RUTH 346 - VI. ADVENTURES OF RICHARD (_concluded_) 359 - VII. THE ELDER BROTHER 371 - VIII. THE SISTERS 394 - IX. THE PRECEPTOR HUSBAND 419 - X. THE OLD BACHELOR 430 - XI. THE MAID’S STORY 451 - - - - -TALES. - - -TO HER GRACE ISABELLA - -DUCHESS DOWAGER OF RUTLAND. - -MADAM, - -The dedication of works of literature to persons of superior worth -and eminence appears to have been a measure early adopted, and -continued to the present time; so that, whatever objections have been -made to the language of dedicators, such addresses must be considered -as perfectly consistent with reason and propriety; in fact, superior -rank and elevated situation in life naturally and justly claim such -respect and it is the prerogative of greatness to give countenance -and favour to all who appear to merit and to need them; it is -likewise the prerogative of every kind of superiority and celebrity, -of personal merit when peculiar or extraordinary, of dignity, -elegance, wealth, and beauty, certainly of superior intellect and -intellectual acquirements; every such kind of eminence has its -privilege, and, being itself an object of distinguished approbation, -it gains attention for whomsoever its possessor distinguishes and -approves. - -Yet the causes and motives for an address of this kind rest not -entirely with the merit of the patron, the feelings of the author -himself having their weight and consideration in the choice he makes; -he may have gratitude for benefits received, or pride not illaudable -in aspiring to the favour of those whose notice confers honour; or -he may entertain a secret but strong desire of seeing a name in the -entrance of his work which he is accustomed to utter with peculiar -satisfaction, and to hear mentioned with veneration and delight. - -Such, madam, are the various kinds of eminence for which an author -on these occasions would probably seek, and they meet in your grace; -such too are the feelings by which he would be actuated, and they -centre in me: let me therefore entreat your grace to take this book -into your favour and protection, and to receive it as an offering of -the utmost respect and duty, from, - - May it please Your Grace, - Your Grace’s - Most obedient, humble, - And devoted servant, - GEORGE CRABBE. - - Muston, July 31, 1812. - - - - -PREFACE. - - -That the appearance of the present work before the public is -occasioned by a favourable reception of the former two, I hesitate -not to acknowledge; because, while the confession may be regarded -as some proof of gratitude, or at least of attention from an author -to his readers, it ought not to be considered as an indication of -vanity. It is unquestionably very pleasant to be assured that our -labours are well received; but, nevertheless, this must not be taken -for a just and full criterion of their merit: publications of great -intrinsic value have been met with so much coolness, that a writer -who succeeds in obtaining some degree of notice should look upon -himself rather as one favoured than meritorious, as gaining a prize -from Fortune, and not a recompense for desert; and, on the contrary, -as it is well known that books of very inferior kind have been at -once pushed into the strong current of popularity, and are there -kept buoyant by the force of the stream, the writer who acquires not -this adventitious help may be reckoned rather as unfortunate than -undeserving; and from these opposite considerations it follows, that -a man may speak of his success without incurring justly the odium of -conceit, and may likewise acknowledge a disappointment without an -adequate cause for humiliation or self-reproach. - -But were it true that something of the complacency of -self-approbation would insinuate itself into an author’s mind with -the idea of success, the sensation would not be that of unalloyed -pleasure; it would perhaps assist him to bear, but it would not -enable him to escape, the mortification he must encounter from -censures, which, though he may be unwilling to admit, yet he finds -himself unable to confute; as well as from advice, which, at the same -time that he cannot but approve, he is compelled to reject. - -Reproof and advice, it is probable, every author will receive, if -we except those who merit so much of the former, that the latter is -contemptuously denied them; now of these, reproof, though it may -cause more temporary uneasiness, will in many cases create less -difficulty, since errors may be corrected when opportunity occurs; -but advice, I repeat, may be of such nature, that it will be painful -to reject, and yet impossible to follow it; and in this predicament -I conceive myself to be placed. There has been recommended to me, -and from authority which neither inclination nor prudence leads me -to resist, in any new work I might undertake, an unity of subject, -and that arrangement of my materials which connects the whole and -gives additional interest to every part; in fact, if not an Epic -Poem, strictly so denominated, yet such composition as would possess -a regular succession of events, and a catastrophe to which every -incident should be subservient, and which every character, in a -greater or less degree, should conspire to accomplish. - -In a Poem of this nature, the principal and inferior characters in -some degree resemble a general and his army, where no one pursues his -peculiar objects and adventures, [but] pursues them in unison with -the movements and grand purposes of the whole body; where there is a -community of interests and a subordination of actors; and it was upon -this view of the subject, and of the necessity for such distribution -of persons and events, that I found myself obliged to relinquish -an undertaking, for which the characters I could command, and the -adventures I could describe, were altogether unfitted. - -But if these characters which seemed to be at my disposal were not -such as would coalesce into one body, nor were of a nature to be -commanded by one mind, so neither on examination did they appear as -an unconnected multitude, accidentally collected, to be suddenly -dispersed; but rather beings of whom might be formed groups and -smaller societies, the relations of whose adventures and pursuits -might bear that kind of similitude to an Heroic Poem, which these -minor associations of men (as pilgrims on the way to their saint, -or parties in search of amusement, travellers excited by curiosity, -or adventurers in pursuit of gain) have in points of connexion and -importance with a regular and disciplined army. - -Allowing this comparison, it is manifest that while much is lost for -want of unity of subject and grandeur of design, something is gained -by greater variety of incident and more minute display of character, -by accuracy of description and diversity of scene: in these -narratives we pass from gay to grave, from lively to severe, not only -without impropriety, but with manifest advantage. In one continued -and connected Poem, the reader is, in general, highly gratified or -severely disappointed; by many independent narratives, he has the -renovation of hope, although he has been dissatisfied, and a prospect -of reiterated pleasure, should he find himself entertained. - -I mean not, however, to compare these different modes of writing -as if I were balancing their advantages and defects before I could -give preference to either; with me the way I take is not a matter of -choice, but of necessity; I present not my Tales to the reader as -if I had chosen the best method of ensuring his approbation, but as -using the only means I possessed of engaging his attention. - -It may probably be remarked that Tales, however dissimilar, might -have been connected by some associating circumstance to which the -whole number might bear equal affinity, and that examples of such -union are to be found in Chaucer, in Boccace, and other collectors -and inventors of Tales, which, considered in themselves, are -altogether independent; and to this idea I gave so much consideration -as convinced me that I could not avail myself of the benefit of -such artificial mode of affinity. To imitate the English poet, -characters must be found adapted to their several relations, and -this is a point of great difficulty and hazard; much allowance seems -to be required even for Chaucer himself, since it is difficult to -conceive that on any occasion the devout and delicate Prioress, the -courtly and valiant Knight, and “the poure good Man the persone of -a Towne,” would be the voluntary companions of the drunken Miller, -the licentious Sompnour, and “the Wanton Wife of Bath,” and enter -into that colloquial and travelling intimacy which, if a common -pilgrimage to the shrine of St. Thomas may be said to excuse, I know -nothing beside (and certainly nothing in these times) that would -produce such effect. Boccace, it is true, avoids all difficulty of -this kind, by not assigning to the ten relators of his hundred -Tales any marked or peculiar characters; nor, though there are male -and female in company, can the sex of the narrator be distinguished -in the narration. To have followed the method of Chaucer might have -been of use, but could scarcely be adopted, from its difficulty; and -to have taken that of the Italian writer would have been perfectly -easy, but could be of no service: the attempt at union therefore -has been relinquished, and these relations are submitted to the -public, connected by no other circumstance than their being the -productions of the same author, and devoted to the same purpose, the -entertainment of his readers. - -It has been already acknowledged, that these compositions have no -pretensions to be estimated with the more lofty and heroic kind -of poems, but I feel great reluctance in admitting that they have -not a fair and legitimate claim to the poetic character. In vulgar -estimation, indeed, all that is not prose passes for poetry, but -I have not ambition of so humble a kind as to be satisfied with a -concession which requires nothing in the poet, except his ability -for counting syllables, and I trust something more of the poetic -character will be allowed to the succeeding pages than what the -heroes of the Dunciad might share with the author; nor was I aware -that by describing, as faithfully as I could, men, manners, and -things, I was forfeiting a just title to a name which has been freely -granted to many whom to equal, and even to excel, is but very stinted -commendation. - -In this case it appears that the usual comparison between poetry and -painting entirely fails: the artist who takes an accurate likeness of -individuals, or a faithful representation of scenery, may not rank -so high in the public estimation as one who paints an historical -event, or an heroic action; but he is nevertheless a painter, and his -accuracy is so far from diminishing his reputation, that it procures -for him in general both fame and emolument; nor is it perhaps with -strict justice determined that the credit and reputation of those -verses which strongly and faithfully delineate character and manners, -should be lessened in the opinion of the public by the very accuracy -which gives value and distinction to the productions of the pencil. - -Nevertheless, it must be granted that the pretensions of any -composition to be regarded as poetry will depend upon that definition -of the poetic character which he who undertakes to determine the -question has considered as decisive; and it is confessed also that -one of great authority may be adopted, by which the verses now before -the reader, and many others which have probably amused and delighted -him, must be excluded: a definition like this will be found in the -words which the greatest of poets, not divinely inspired, has given -to the most noble and valiant Duke of Athens-- - - “The poet’s eye, in a fine frenzy rolling, - Doth glance from heaven to earth, from earth to heaven; - And as Imagination bodies forth - The forms of things unknown, the poet’s pen - Turns them to shapes, and gives to airy nothing - A local habitation, and a name[1].” - -[1] Midsummer Night’s Dream, Act V. Scene 1. - -Hence we observe the poet is one who, in the excursions of his -fancy between heaven and earth, lights upon a kind of fairyland, in -which he places a creation of his own, where he embodies shapes, -and gives action and adventure to his ideal offspring; taking -captive the imagination of his readers, he elevates them above the -grossness of actual being, into the soothing and pleasant atmosphere -of supra-mundane existence: there he obtains for his visionary -inhabitants the interest that engages a reader’s attention without -ruffling his feelings, and excites that moderate kind of sympathy -which the realities of nature oftentimes fail to produce, either -because they are so familiar and insignificant that they excite no -determinate emotion, or are so harsh and powerful that the feelings -excited are grating and distasteful. - -Be it then granted that (as Duke Theseus observes) “such tricks -hath strong Imagination,” and that such poets “are of imagination -all compact;” let it be further conceded, that theirs is a higher -and more dignified kind of composition, nay, the only kind that -has pretensions to inspiration: still, that these poets should so -entirely engross the title as to exclude those who address their -productions to the plain sense and sober judgment of their readers, -rather than to their fancy and imagination, I must repeat that I am -unwilling to admit--because I conceive that, by granting such right -of exclusion, a vast deal of what has been hitherto received as -genuine poetry would no longer be entitled to that appellation. - -All that kind of satire wherein character is skillfully delineated -must (this criterion being allowed) no longer be esteemed as genuine -poetry; and for the same reason many affecting narratives which -are founded on real events, and borrow no aid whatever from the -imagination of the writer, must likewise be rejected: a considerable -part of the poems, as they have hitherto been denominated, of -Chaucer, are of this naked and unveiled character; and there are -in his Tales many pages of coarse, accurate, and minute, but very -striking description. Many small poems in a subsequent age, of most -impressive kind, are adapted and addressed to the common sense of -the reader, and prevail by the strong language of truth and nature; -they amused our ancestors, and they continue to engage our interest, -and excite our feelings, by the same powerful appeals to the heart -and affections. In times less remote, Dryden has given us much -of this poetry, in which the force of expression and accuracy of -description have neither needed nor obtained assistance from the -fancy of the writer; the characters in his Absalom and Achitophel are -instances of this, and more especially those of Doeg and Og in the -second part: these, with all their grossness, and almost offensive -accuracy, are found to possess that strength and spirit which has -preserved from utter annihilation the dead bodies of Tate, to whom -they were inhumanly bound, happily with a fate the reverse of that -caused by the cruelty of Mezentius; for there the living perished -in the putrefaction of the dead, and here the dead are preserved -by the vitality of the living. And, to bring forward one other -example, it will be found that Pope himself has no small portion of -this actuality of relation, this nudity of description, and poetry -without an atmosphere; the lines beginning, “In the worst inn’s worst -room,” are an example, and many others may be seen in his Satires, -Imitations, and above all in his Dunciad: the frequent absence of -those “Sports of Fancy,” and “Tricks of strong Imagination,” have -been so much observed, that some have ventured to question whether -even this writer were a poet; and though, as Dr. Johnson has -remarked, it would be difficult to form a definition of one in which -Pope should not be admitted, yet they who doubted his claim, had, -it is likely, provided for his exclusion by forming that kind of -character for their poet, in which this elegant versifier, for so he -must be then named, should not be comprehended. - -These things considered, an author will find comfort in his expulsion -from the rank and society of poets, by reflecting that men much his -superiors were likewise shut out, and more especially when he finds -also that men not much his superiors are entitled to admission. - -But in whatever degree I may venture to differ from any others in -my notions of the qualifications and character of the true poet, I -most cordially assent to their opinion who assert that his principal -exertions must be made to engage the attention of his readers; and -further, I must allow that the effect of poetry should be to lift -the mind from the painful realities of actual existence, from its -every-day concerns, and its perpetually occurring vexations, and -to give it repose by substituting objects in their place which it -may contemplate with some degree of interest and satisfaction; but -what is there in all this, which may not be effected by a fair -representation of existing character? nay, by a faithful delineation -of those painful realities, those every-day concerns, and those -perpetually-occurring vexations themselves, provided they be not -(which is hardly to be supposed) the very concerns and distresses of -the reader? for, when it is admitted that they have no particular -relation to him, but are the troubles and anxieties of other men, -they excite and interest his feelings as the imaginary exploits, -adventures, and perils of romance;--they soothe his mind, and keep -his curiosity pleasantly awake; they appear to have enough of -reality to engage his sympathy, but possess not interest sufficient -to create painful sensations. Fiction itself, we know, and every -work of fancy, must for a time have the effect of realities; nay, -the very enchanters, spirits, and monsters of Ariosto and Spenser -must be present in the mind of the reader while he is engaged by -their operations, or they would be as the objects and incidents of -a nursery tale to a rational understanding, altogether despised and -neglected: in truth, I can but consider this pleasant effect upon -the mind of a reader as depending neither upon the events related -(whether they be actual or imaginary), nor upon the characters -introduced (whether taken from life or fancy), but upon the manner -in which the poem itself is conducted; let that be judiciously -managed, and the occurrences actually copied from life will have the -same happy effect as the inventions of a creative fancy;--while, on -the other hand, the imaginary persons and incidents to which the -poet has given “a local habitation, and a name,” will make upon the -concurring feelings of the reader the same impressions with those -taken from truth and nature, because they will appear to be derived -from that source, and therefore of necessity will have a similar -effect. - -Having thus far presumed to claim for the ensuing pages the rank and -title of poetry, I attempt no more, nor venture to class or compare -them with any other kinds of poetical composition; their place will -doubtless be found for them. - -A principal view and wish of the poet must be to engage the mind of -his readers, as, failing in that point, he will scarcely succeed in -any other: I therefore willingly confess that much of my time and -assiduity has been devoted to this purpose; but, to the ambition of -pleasing, no other sacrifices have, I trust, been made, than of my -own labour and care. Nothing will be found that militates against the -rules of propriety and good manners, nothing that offends against -the more important precepts of morality and religion; and with this -negative kind of merit, I commit my book to the judgment and taste of -the reader--not being willing to provoke his vigilance by professions -of accuracy, nor to solicit his indulgence by apologies for mistakes. - - - - -TALE I. - -_THE DUMB ORATORS_; OR, THE BENEFIT OF SOCIETY. - - - [In] fair round belly with good capon lined, - With eyes severe . . . - Full of wise saws and modern instances. - _As you Like it_, Act II. Scene 7. - - Deep shame hath struck me dumb. - _King John_, Act IV. Scene 2. - - He gives the bastinado with his tongue, - Our ears are cudgell’d. - _King John_, Act IV. Scene 1. - - Let’s kill all the lawyers; - Now show yourselves men: ’tis for liberty: - We will not leave one lord or gentleman. - _2 Henry VI._ Act IV. Scene 2. - - And thus the whirligig of time brings in his revenges. - _Twelfth Night_, Act V. Scene last. - - -TALE I. _THE DUMB ORATORS._ - - That all men would be cowards if they dare, - Some men we know have courage to declare; - And this the life of many an hero shows, - That like the tide, man’s courage ebbs and flows: - With friends and gay companions round them, then - Men boldly speak and have the hearts of men; - Who, with opponents seated, miss the aid - Of kind applauding looks, and grow afraid; - Like timid trav’llers in the night, they fear - Th’ assault of foes, when not a friend is near. 10 - In contest mighty and of conquest proud - Was Justice Bolt, impetuous, warm, and loud; - His fame, his prowess all the country knew, - And disputants, with one so fierce, were few. - He was a younger son, for law design’d, - With dauntless look and persevering mind; - While yet a clerk, for disputation famed, - No efforts tired him, and no conflicts tamed. - Scarcely he bade his master’s desk adieu, - When both his brothers from the world withdrew. 20 - An ample fortune he from them possess’d, - And was with saving care and prudence bless’d. - Now would he go and to the country give - Example how an English ’squire should live; - How bounteous, yet how frugal man may be, - By a well-order’d hospitality; - He would the rights of all so well maintain, - That none should idle be, and none complain. - All this and more he purposed--and what man - Could do, he did to realize his plan; 30 - But time convinced him that we cannot keep - A breed of reasoners like a flock of sheep; - For they, so far from following as we lead, - Make that a cause why they will not proceed. - Man will not follow where a rule is shown, - But loves to take a method of his own; - Explain the way with all your care and skill, - This will he quit, if but to prove he will.-- - Yet had our Justice honour--and the crowd, - Awed by his presence, their respect avow’d. 40 - In later years he found his heart incline, - More than in youth, to gen’rous food and wine; - But no indulgence check’d the powerful love - He felt to teach, to argue, and reprove. - Meetings, or public calls, he never miss’d-- - To dictate often, always to assist. - Oft he the clergy join’d, and not a cause - Pertain’d to them but he could quote the laws; - He upon tithes and residence display’d - A fund of knowledge for the hearer’s aid; 50 - And could on glebe and farming, wool and grain, - A long discourse, without a pause, maintain. - To his experience and his native sense - He join’d a bold imperious eloquence; - The grave, stern look of men inform’d and wise, } - A full command of feature, heart, and eyes, } - An awe-compelling frown, and fear-inspiring size. } - When at the table, not a guest was seen - With appetite so ling’ring, or so keen; - But when the outer man no more required, 60 - The inner waked, and he was man inspired. - His subjects then were those, a subject true - Presents in fairest form to public view; - Of Church and State, of Law, with mighty strength - Of words he spoke, in speech of mighty length; - And now, into the vale of years declined, - He hides too little of the monarch-mind; - He kindles anger by untimely jokes, - And opposition by contempt provokes; - Mirth he suppresses by his awful frown, 70 - And humble spirits, by disdain, keeps down; - Blamed by the mild, approved by the severe, - The prudent fly him, and the valiant fear. - For overbearing is his proud discourse, - And overwhelming of his voice the force; - And overpowering is he when he shows - What floats upon a mind that always overflows. - This ready man at every meeting rose, - Something to hint, determine, or propose; - And grew so fond of teaching, that he taught 80 - Those who instruction needed not or sought. - Happy our hero, when he could excite - Some thoughtless talker to the wordy fight: - Let him a subject at his pleasure choose, - Physic or Law, Religion or the Muse; - On all such themes he was prepared to shine, - Physician, poet, lawyer, and divine. - Hemm’d in by some tough argument, borne down - By press of language and the awful frown, - In vain for mercy shall the culprit plead; 90 - His crime is past, and sentence must proceed: - Ah! suffering man, have patience, bear thy woes-- - For lo! the clock--at ten the Justice goes. - This powerful man, on business or to please - A curious taste, or weary grown of ease, - On a long journey travell’d many a mile - Westward, and halted midway in our isle; - Content to view a city large and fair, - Though none had notice what a man was there! - Silent two days, he then began to long 100 - Again to try a voice so loud and strong; - To give his favourite topics some new grace, - And gain some glory in such distant place; - To reap some present pleasure, and to sow - Seeds of fair fame, in after-time to grow: - Here will men say, “We heard, at such an hour, - The best of speakers--wonderful his power.” - Inquiry made, he found that day would meet - A learned club, and in the very street: - Knowledge to gain and give, was the design; 110 - To speak, to hearken, to debate, and dine: - This pleased our traveller, for he felt his force - In either way, to eat or to discourse. - Nothing more easy than to gain access - To men like these, with his polite address: - So he succeeded, and first look’d around, - To view his objects and to take his ground; - And therefore silent chose awhile to sit, - Then enter boldly by some lucky hit, - Some observation keen or stroke severe, 120 - To cause some wonder or excite some fear. - Now, dinner past, no longer he suppress’d - His strong dislike to be a silent guest; - Subjects and words were now at his command-- - When disappointment frown’d on all he plann’d; - For, hark!--he heard, amazed, on every side, - His church insulted and her priests belied; - The laws reviled, the ruling power abused, - The land derided, and its foes excused:-- - He heard and ponder’d.--What, to men so vile, 130 - Should be his language? For his threat’ning style - They were too many;--if his speech were meek, - They would despise such poor attempts to speak: - At other times with every word at will, - He now sat lost, perplex’d, astonish’d, still. - Here were Socinians, Deists, and indeed } - All who, as foes to England’s church, agreed; } - But still with creeds unlike, and some without a creed: } - Here, too, fierce friends of liberty he saw, - Who own’d no prince and who obey no law; 140 - There were Reformers of each different sort, - Foes to the laws, the priesthood, and the court; - Some on their favourite plans alone intent, - Some purely angry and malevolent: - The rash were proud to blame their country’s laws; - The vain, to seem supporters of a cause; - One call’d for change that he would dread to see; - Another sigh’d for Gallic liberty! - And numbers joining with the forward crew, - For no one reason--but that numbers do. 150 - “How,” said the Justice, “can this trouble rise, - This shame and pain, from creatures I despise?” - And conscience answer’d--“The prevailing cause - Is thy delight in listening to applause; - Here, thou art seated with a tribe, who spurn - Thy favourite themes, and into laughter turn - Thy fears and wishes; silent and obscure, - Thyself, shalt thou the long harangue endure; - And learn, by feeling, what it is to force - On thy unwilling friends the long discourse. 160 - What though thy thoughts be just, and these, it seems, - Are traitors’ projects, idiots’ empty schemes: - Yet minds like bodies cramm’d, reject their food, - Nor will be forced and tortured for their good!” - At length, a sharp, shrewd, sallow man arose, - And begg’d he briefly might his mind disclose; - “It was his duty, in these worst of times, - T’ inform the govern’d of their rulers’ crimes.” - This pleasant subject to attend, they each - Prepared to listen, and forbore to teach. 170 - Then, voluble and fierce, the wordy man - Through a long chain of favourite horrors ran:-- - First, of the church, from whose enslaving power - He was deliver’d, and he bless’d the hour; - “Bishops and deans, and prebendaries all,” - He said, “were cattle fatt’ning in the stall; - Slothful and pursy, insolent and mean, - Were every bishop, prebendary, dean, - And wealthy rector; curates, poorly paid, - Were only dull;--he would not them upbraid.” 180 - From priests he turn’d to canons, creeds, and prayers, - Rubrics and rules, and all our church affairs; - Churches themselves, desk, pulpit, altar, all - The Justice reverenced--and pronounced their fall. - Then from religion Hammond turn’d his view, - To give our rulers the correction due; - Not one wise action had these triflers plann’d; - There was, it seem’d, no wisdom in the land; - Save in this patriot tribe, who meet at times - To show the statesman’s errors and his crimes. 190 - Now here was Justice Bolt compell’d to sit, - To hear the deist’s scorn, the rebel’s wit; - The fact mis-stated, the envenom’d lie, - And staring, spell-bound, made not one reply. - Then were our laws abused--and with the laws, - All who prepare, defend, or judge a cause: - “We have no lawyer whom a man can trust,” - Proceeded Hammond--“if the laws were just; - But they are evil; ’tis the savage state - Is only good, and ours sophisticate! 200 - See! the free creatures in their woods and plains, - Where without laws each happy monarch reigns, - King of himself--while we a number dread, - By slaves commanded and by dunces led; - Oh, let the name with either state agree-- - Savage our own we’ll name, and civil theirs shall be.” - The silent Justice still astonish’d sate, - And wonder’d much whom he was gazing at; - Twice he essay’d to speak--but in a cough - The faint, indignant, dying speech went off: 210 - “But who is this?” thought he--“a dæmon vile, - With wicked meaning and a vulgar style: - Hammond they call him; they can give the name - Of man to devils.--Why am I so tame? - Why crush I not the viper?”--Fear replied, - “Watch him awhile, and let his strength be tried; - He will be foil’d, if man; but if his aid - Be from beneath, ’tis well to be afraid.” - “We are call’d free!” said Hammond--“doleful times - When rulers add their insult to their crimes; 220 - For, should our scorn expose each powerful vice, - It would be libel, and we pay the price.” - Thus with licentious words the man went on, - Proving that liberty of speech was gone; - That all were slaves--nor had we better chance - For better times than as allies to France. - Loud groan’d the stranger--Why, he must relate, - And own’d, “In sorrow for his country’s fate.” - “Nay, she were safe,” the ready man replied, - “Might patriots rule her, and could reasoners guide; 230 - When all to vote, to speak, to teach, are free, - Whate’er their creeds or their opinions be; - When books of statutes are consumed in flames, - And courts and copyholds are empty names; - Then will be times of joy--but ere they come, - Havock, and war, and blood must be our doom.” - The man here paused--then loudly for reform - He call’d, and hail’d the prospect of the storm; - The wholesome blast, the fertilizing flood-- - Peace gain’d by tumult, plenty bought with blood: 240 - Sharp means, he own’d; but when the land’s disease - Asks cure complete, no med’cines are like these. - Our Justice now, more led by fear than rage, - Saw it in vain with madness to engage; - With imps of darkness no man seeks to fight, - Knaves to instruct, or set deceivers right. - Then, as the daring speech denounced these woes, - Sick at the soul, the grieving guest arose; - Quick on the board his ready cash he threw, - And from the dæmons to his closet flew. 250 - There when secured, he pray’d with earnest zeal, - That all they wish’d these patriot-souls might feel; - “Let them to France, their darling country, haste, - And all the comforts of a Frenchman taste; - Let them his safety, freedom, pleasure know, } - Feel all their rulers on the land bestow; } - And be at length dismiss’d by one unerring blow; } - Not hack’d and hew’d by one afraid to strike, - But shorn by that which shears all men alike; - Nor, as in Britain, let them curse delay } 260 - Of law, but borne without a form away-- } - Suspected, tried, condemn’d, and carted in a day; } - Oh! let them taste what they so much approve, - These strong fierce freedoms of the land they love[2].” - Home came our hero, to forget no more - The fear he felt and ever most deplore: - For, though he quickly join’d his friends again, - And could with decent force his themes maintain, - Still it occurr’d that, in a luckless time, - He fail’d to fight with heresy and crime; 270 - It was observed his words were not so strong, - His tones so powerful, his harangues so long, - As in old times--for he would often drop - The lofty look, and of a sudden stop; - When conscience whisper’d, that he once was still, - And let the wicked triumph at their will; - And therefore now, when not a foe was near, - He had no right so valiant to appear. - Some years had pass’d, and he perceived his fears - Yield to the spirit of his earlier years-- 280 - When at a meeting, with his friends beside, - He saw an object that awaked his pride; - His shame, wrath, vengeance, indignation--all - Man’s harsher feelings did that sight recall. - For lo! beneath him fix’d, our man of law - That lawless man the foe of order saw-- - Once fear’d, now scorn’d; once dreaded, now abhorr’d; - A wordy man, and evil every word. - Again he gazed--“It is,” said he, “the same; - Caught and secure: his master owes him shame:” 290 - So thought our hero, who each instant found - His courage rising, from the numbers round. - As when a felon has escaped and fled, - So long, that law conceives the culprit dead; - And back recall’d her myrmidons, intent - On some new game, and with a stronger scent; - Till she beholds him in a place, where none - Could have conceived the culprit would have gone; - There he sits upright in his seat, secure, - As one whose conscience is correct and pure; 300 - This rouses anger for the old offence, - And scorn for all such seeming and pretence: - So on this Hammond look’d our hero bold, - Rememb’ring well that vile offence of old; - And now he saw the rebel dared t’ intrude } - Among the pure, the loyal, and the good; } - The crime provoked his wrath, the folly stirr’d his blood. } - Nor wonder was it if so strange a sight - Caused joy with vengeance, terror with delight; - Terror like this a tiger might create, } 310 - A joy like that to see his captive state, } - At once to know his force and then decree his fate. } - Hammond, much praised by numerous friends, was come - To read his lectures, so admired at home: - Historic lectures, where he loved to mix - His free plain hints on modern politics. - Here, he had heard, that numbers had design, - Their business finish’d, to sit down and dine; - This gave him pleasure, for he judged it right - To show by day, that he could speak at night. 320 - Rash the design--for he perceived, too late, - Not one approving friend beside him sate; - The greater number, whom he traced around, - Were men in black, and he conceived they frown’d. - “I will not speak,” he thought; “no pearls of mine - Shall be presented to this herd of swine;” - Not this avail’d him, when he cast his eye - On Justice Bolt; he could not fight, nor fly. - He saw a man to whom he gave the pain, - Which now he felt must be return’d again; 330 - His conscience told him with what keen delight - He, at that time, enjoy’d a stranger’s fright; - That stranger now befriended--he alone, - For all his insult, friendless, to atone; - Now he could feel it cruel that a heart - Should be distress’d, and none to take its part; - “Though one by one,” said Pride, “I would defy } - Much greater men, yet meeting every eye, } - I do confess a fear--but he will pass me by.” } - Vain hope! the Justice saw the foe’s distress, 340 - With exultation he could not suppress; - He felt the fish was hook’d--and so forbore, - In playful spite, to draw it to the shore. - Hammond look’d round again; but none were near, - With friendly smile, to still his growing fear; - But all above him seem’d a solemn row - Of priests and deacons, so they seem’d below; - He wonder’d who his right-hand man might be-- - Vicar of Holt cum Uppingham was he; - And who the man of that dark frown possess’d-- 350 - Rector of Bradley and of Barton-west; - “A pluralist,” he growl’d--but check’d the word, - That warfare might not, by his zeal, be stirr’d. - But now began the man above to show - Fierce looks and threat’nings to the man below; - Who had some thoughts his peace by flight to seek-- - But how then lecture, if he dared not speak!-- - Now as the Justice for the war prepared, - He seem’d just then to question if he dared: - “He may resist, although his power be small, 360 - And growing desperate may defy us all; - One dog attack, and he prepares for flight-- - Resist another, and he strives to bite; - Nor can I say, if this rebellious cur - Will fly for safety, or will scorn to stir.” - Alarm’d by this, he lash’d his soul to rage, - Burn’d with strong shame, and hurried to engage. - As a male turkey straggling on the green, - When by fierce harriers, terriers, mongrels seen, - He feels the insult of the noisy train, 370 - And sculks aside, though moved by much disdain; - But when that turkey, at his own barn-door, - Sees one poor straying puppy and no more, - (A foolish puppy who had left the pack, - Thoughtless what foe was threat’ning at his back,) - He moves about, as ship prepared to sail, - He hoists his proud rotundity of tail, - The half-seal’d eyes and changeful neck he shows, - Where, in its quick’ning colours, vengeance glows; - From red to blue the pendant wattles turn, 380 - Blue mix’d with red, as matches when they burn; - And thus th’ intruding snarler to oppose, - Urged by enkindling wrath, he gobbling goes. - So look’d our hero in his wrath, his cheeks - Flush’d with fresh fires and glow’d in tingling streaks; - His breath by passion’s force awhile restrain’d, - Like a stopp’d current, greater force regain’d; - So spoke, so look’d he, every eye and ear - Were fix’d to view him, or were turn’d to hear. - “My friends, you know me, you can witness all, 390 - How, urged by passion, I restrain my gall; - And every motive to revenge withstand-- - Save when I hear abused my native land. - “Is it not known, agreed, confirm’d, confess’d, - That of all people, we are govern’d best? - We have the force of monarchies; are free, - As the most proud republicans can be; - And have those prudent counsels that arise - In grave and cautious aristocracies; - And live there those, in such all-glorious state, 400 - Traitors protected in the land they hate? - Rebels, still warring with the laws that give - To them subsistence?--Yes, such wretches live. - “Ours is a church reform’d, and now no more - Is aught for man to mend or to restore; - ’Tis pure in doctrines, ’tis correct in creeds, - Has nought redundant, and it nothing needs; - No evil is therein--no wrinkle, spot, - Stain, blame, or blemish:--I affirm there’s not. - “All this you know--now mark what once befell, 410 - With grief I bore it, and with shame I tell; - I was entrapp’d--yes, so it came to pass, - ’Mid heathen rebels, a tumultuous class; - Each to his country bore a hellish mind, - Each like his neighbour was of cursèd kind; - The land that nursed them they blasphemed; the laws, - Their sovereign’s glory, and their country’s cause; - And who their mouth, their master-fiend, and who - Rebellion’s oracle?----You, caitiff, you!” - He spoke, and standing stretch’d his mighty arm, 420 - And fix’d the man of words, as by a charm. - “How raved that railer! Sure some hellish power - Restrain’d my tongue in that delirious hour, - Or I had hurl’d the shame and vengeance due - On him, the guide of that infuriate crew; - But to mine eyes such dreadful looks appear’d, - Such mingled yell of lying words I heard, - That I conceived around were dæmons all, - And till I fled the house, I fear’d its fall. - “Oh! could our country from our coasts expel 430 - Such foes! to nourish those who wish her well: - This her mild laws forbid, but we may still - From us eject them by our sovereign will; - This let us do.”--He said, and then began - A gentler feeling for the silent man; - Ev’n in our hero’s mighty soul arose - A touch of pity for experienced woes; - But this was transient, and with angry eye - He sternly look’d, and paused for a reply. - ’Twas then the man of many words would speak-- 440 - But, in his trial, had them all to seek: - To find a friend he look’d the circle round, - But joy or scorn in every feature found; - He sipp’d his wine, but in those times of dread - Wine only adds confusion to the head; - In doubt he reason’d with himself--“And how - Harangue at night, if I be silent now?” - From pride and praise received he sought to draw - Courage to speak, but still remain’d the awe; - One moment rose he with a forced disdain, 450 - And then, abash’d, sunk sadly down again; - While in our hero’s glance he seem’d to read, - “Slave and insurgent! what hast thou to plead?”-- - By desperation urged, he now began: - “I seek no favour--I--the Rights of Man! - Claim; and I--nay!--but give me leave--and I - Insist--a man--that is--and, in reply, - I speak.”--Alas! each new attempt was vain: - Confused he stood, he sate, he rose again; - At length he growl’d defiance, sought the door, 460 - Cursed the whole synod, and was seen no more. - “Laud we,” said Justice Bolt, “the Powers above; - Thus could our speech the sturdiest foe remove.” - Exulting now he gain’d new strength of fame, - And lost all feelings of defeat and shame. - “He dared not strive, you witness’d--dared not lift - His voice, nor drive at his accursed drift: - So all shall tremble, wretches who oppose - Our church or state--thus be it to our foes.” - He spoke, and, seated with his former air, 470 - Look’d his full self, and fill’d his ample chair; - Took one full bumper to each favourite cause, } - And dwelt all night on politics and laws, } - With high applauding voice, that gain’d him high applause. } - -[2] The reader will perceive in these and the preceding verses -allusions to the state of France, as that country was circumstanced -some years since, rather than as it appears to be in the present -date; several years elapsing between the alarm of the loyal -magistrate on the occasion now related, and a subsequent event that -farther illustrates the remark with which the narrative commences. - - - - -TALE II. - -_THE PARTING HOUR._ - - - I did not take my leave of him, but had - Most pretty things to say: ere I could tell him - How I would think of him, at certain hours, - Such thoughts and such [. . . . . . . . . . . . . - . . . . . .] or ere I could - Give him that parting kiss, which I had set - Betwixt two charming words--comes in my father-- - _Cymbeline_, Act I. Scene 3. - - Grief hath changed me since you saw me last, - And careful hours with Time’s deformèd hand - Have written strange defeatures [in] my face. - _Comedy of Errors_, Act V. Scene 1. - - Oh! if thou be the same [Ægeon], speak, - And speak unto the same [Æmilia]. - _Comedy of Errors_, Act V. Scene 1. - - I ran it through, ev’n from my boyish days - To the very moment that [he bade] me tell it, - Wherein I spake of most disastrous chances, - Of moving accidents, by flood, and field; - Of being taken by [the] insolent foe - And sold to slavery. - _Othello_, Act I. Scene 3. - - An old man, broken with the storms of [state], - Is come to lay his weary bones among [ye]; - Give him a little earth for charity. - _Henry VIII._ Act IV. Scene 2. - - -TALE II. - -_THE PARTING HOUR._ - - Minutely trace man’s life; year after year, - Through all his days let all his deeds appear, - And then, though some may in that life be strange, - Yet there appears no vast nor sudden change; - The links that bind those various deeds are seen, - And no mysterious void is left between. - But let these binding links be all destroy’d, - All that through years he suffer’d or enjoy’d; - Let that vast gap be made, and then behold-- - This was the youth, and he is thus when old; 10 - Then we at once the work of Time survey, - And in an instant see a life’s decay: - Pain[s] mix’d with pity in our bosoms rise, - And sorrow takes new sadness from surprise. - Beneath yon tree, observe an ancient pair-- } - A sleeping man; a woman in her chair, } - Watching his looks with kind and pensive air; } - No wife, nor sister she, nor is the name - Nor kindred of this friendly pair the same; - Yet so allied are they, that few can feel 20 - Her constant, warm, unwearied, anxious zeal, - Their years and woes, although they long have loved, - Keep their good name and conduct unreproved; - Thus life’s small comforts they together share, - And while life lingers for the grave prepare. - No other subjects on their spirits press, - Nor gain such int’rest as the past distress; - Grievous events that from the mem’ry drive - Life’s common cares, and those alone survive, - Mix with each thought, in every action share, 30 - Darken each dream, and blend with every prayer. - To David Booth, his fourth and last-born boy, - Allen his name, was more than common joy; - And as the child grew up, there seem’d in him - A more than common life in every limb; - A strong and handsome stripling he became, - And the gay spirit answer’d to the frame; - A lighter, happier lad was never seen, - For ever easy, cheerful, or serene; - His early love he fix’d upon a fair 40 - And gentle maid--they were a handsome pair. - They at an infant-school together play’d, - Where the foundation of their love was laid; - The boyish champion would his choice attend - In every sport, in every fray defend. - As prospects open’d and as life advanced, - They walk’d together, they together danced; - On all occasions, from their early years, - They mix’d their joys and sorrows, hopes and fears; - Each heart was anxious, till it could impart 50 - Its daily feelings to its kindred heart; - As years increased, unnumber’d petty wars - Broke out between them; jealousies and jars; - Causeless indeed, and follow’d by a peace, - That gave to love--growth, vigour, and increase. - Whilst yet a boy, when other minds are void, - Domestic thoughts young Allen’s hours employ’d; - Judith in gaining hearts had no concern, - Rather intent the matron’s part to learn; - Thus early prudent and sedate they grew, 60 - While lovers, thoughtful--and, though children, true. - To either parents not a day appear’d, - When with this love they might have interfered: - Childish at first, they cared not to restrain; - And strong at last, they saw restriction vain; - Nor knew they when that passion to reprove-- - Now idle fondness, now resistless love. - So, while the waters rise, the children tread - On the broad estuary’s sandy bed; - But soon the channel fills, from side to side 70 - Comes danger rolling with the deep’ning tide; - Yet none who saw the rapid current flow - Could the first instant of that danger know. - The lovers waited till the time should come - When they together could possess a home: - In either house were men and maids unwed, - Hopes to be soothed, and tempers to be led. - Then Allen’s mother of his favourite maid - Spoke from the feelings of a mind afraid: - “Dress and amusements were her sole employ,” 80 - She said--“entangling her deluded boy;” - And yet, in truth, a mother’s jealous love - Had much imagined and could little prove; - Judith had beauty--and, if vain, was kind, - Discreet, and mild, and had a serious mind. - Dull was their prospect--when the lovers met, - They said, we must not--dare not venture yet: - “Oh! could I labour for thee,” Allen cried, - “Why should our friends be thus dissatisfied? - On my own arm I could depend, but they } 90 - Still urge obedience--must I yet obey?” } - Poor Judith felt the grief, but grieving begg’d delay. } - At length a prospect came that seem’d to smile, - And faintly woo them, from a Western Isle. - A kinsman there a widow’s hand had gain’d, - “Was old, was rich, and childless yet remain’d; - Would some young Booth to his affairs attend, - And wait awhile, he might expect a friend.” - The elder brothers, who were not in love, - Fear’d the false seas, unwilling to remove; 100 - But the young Allen, an enamour’d boy, - Eager an independence to enjoy, - Would through all perils seek it--by the sea-- - Through labour, danger, pain, or slavery. - The faithful Judith his design approved; - For both were sanguine, they were young and loved. - The mother’s slow consent was then obtain’d; - The time arrived, to part alone remain’d. - All things prepared, on the expected day - Was seen the vessel anchor’d in the bay. 110 - From her would seamen in the evening come, - To take th’ advent’rous Allen from his home; - With his own friends the final day he pass’d, - And every painful hour, except the last. - The grieving father urged the cheerful glass, - To make the moments with less sorrow pass; - Intent the mother look’d upon her son, - And wish’d th’ assent withdrawn, the deed undone; - The younger sister, as he took his way, - Hung on his coat, and begg’d for more delay: 120 - But his own Judith call’d him to the shore, - Whom he must meet, for they might meet no more;-- - And there he found her--faithful, mournful, true, - Weeping and waiting for a last adieu! - The ebbing tide had left the sand, and there - Moved with slow steps the melancholy pair: - Sweet were the painful moments--but how sweet, - And without pain, when they again should meet! - Now either spoke, as hope and fear impress’d - Each their alternate triumph in the breast. 130 - Distance alarm’d the maid--she cried, “’Tis far!” - And danger too--“it is a time of war. - Then, in those countries are diseases strange, - And women gay, and men are prone to change; - What, then, may happen in a year, when things - Of vast importance every moment brings! - But hark! an oar!” she cried, yet none appear’d-- - ’Twas love’s mistake, who fancied what it fear’d; - And she continued--“Do, my Allen, keep - Thy heart from evil, let thy passions sleep; 140 - Believe it good, nay glorious, to prevail, - And stand in safety where so many fail; - And do not, Allen, or for shame, or pride, - Thy faith abjure, or thy profession hide; - Can I believe _his_ love will lasting prove, - Who has no rev’rence for the God I love? - I know thee well! how good thou art and kind; - But strong the passions that invade thy mind.-- - Now, what to me hath Allen to commend?”-- - “Upon my mother,” said the youth, “attend; 150 - Forget her spleen, and in my place appear; - Her love to me will make my Judith dear: - Oft I shall think (such comfort lovers seek), - Who speaks of me, and fancy what they speak; - Then write on all occasions, always dwell - On hope’s fair prospects, and be kind and well, - And ever choose the fondest, tenderest style.” - She answer’d, “No,” but answer’d with a smile. - “And now, my Judith, at so sad a time, - Forgive my fear, and call it not my crime; 160 - When with our youthful neighbours ’tis thy chance - To meet in walks, the visit or the dance, - When every lad would on my lass attend, - Choose not a smooth designer for a friend; - That fawning Philip!--nay, be not severe, - A rival’s hope must cause a lover’s fear.” - Displeased she felt, and might in her reply - Have mix’d some anger, but the boat was nigh, - Now truly heard!--it soon was full in sight;-- - Now the sad farewell, and the long good-night; 170 - For, see!--his friends come hast’ning to the beach, - And now the gunwale is within the reach; - “Adieu!--farewell!--remember!”--and what more - Affection taught, was utter’d from the shore! - But Judith left them with a heavy heart, - Took a last view, and went to weep apart! - And now his friends went slowly from the place, - Where she stood still, the dashing oar to trace, - Till all were silent!--for the youth she pray’d, - And softly then return’d the weeping maid. 180 - They parted, thus by hope and fortune led, - And Judith’s hours in pensive pleasure fled. - But when return’d the youth?--the youth no more - Return’d exulting to his native shore. - But forty years were past, and then there came } - A worn-out man with wither’d limbs and lame, } - His mind oppress’d with woes, and bent with age his frame: } - Yes! old and grieved, and trembling with decay, } - Was Allen landing in his native bay, } - Willing his breathless form should blend with kindred clay. } - In an autumnal eve he left the beach, 191 - In such an eve he chanced the port to reach. - He was alone; he press’d the very place - Of the sad parting, of the last embrace: - There stood his parents, there retired the maid, - So fond, so tender, and so much afraid; - And on that spot, through many a year, his mind - Turn’d mournful back, half sinking, half resign’d. - No one was present; of its crew bereft, - A single boat was in the billows left; 200 - Sent from some anchor’d vessel in the bay, - At the returning tide to sail away. - O’er the black stern the moonlight softly play’d, - The loosen’d foresail flapping in the shade; - All silent else on shore; but from the town - A drowsy peal of distant bells came down; - From the tall houses here and there, a light - Served some confused remembrance to excite: - “There,” he observed, and new emotions felt, - “Was my first home--and yonder Judith dwelt; 210 - Dead! dead are all! I long--I fear to know,” - He said, and walk’d impatient, and yet slow. - Sudden there broke upon his grief a noise - Of merry tumult and of vulgar joys: - Seamen returning to their ship, were come, - With idle numbers straying from their home; - Allen among them mix’d, and in the old - Strove some familiar features to behold; - While fancy aided memory;--“Man! what cheer?” - A sailor cried; “Art thou at anchor here?” 220 - Faintly he answer’d, and then tried to trace - Some youthful features in some aged face; - A swarthy matron he beheld, and thought - She might unfold the very truths he sought; - Confused and trembling, he the dame address’d: - “The Booths! yet live they?” pausing and oppress’d; - Then spake again:--“Is there no ancient man, - David his name?--assist me, if you can.-- - Flemmings there were--and Judith, doth she live?” - The woman gazed, nor could an answer give; 230 - Yet wond’ring stood, and all were silent by, - Feeling a strange and solemn sympathy. - The woman musing said--“She knew full well - Where the old people came at last to dwell; - They had a married daughter and a son, - But they were dead, and now remain’d not one.” - “Yes,” said an elder, who had paused intent - On days long past, “there was a sad event;-- - One of these Booths--it was my mother’s tale-- - Here left his lass, I know not where to sail; 240 - She saw their parting, and observed the pain; - But never came th’ unhappy man again.” - “The ship was captured”--Allen meekly said, - “And what became of the forsaken maid?” - The woman answer’d: “I remember now, - She used to tell the lasses of her vow, - And of her lover’s loss, and I have seen - The gayest hearts grow sad where she has been; - Yet in her grief she married, and was made - Slave to a wretch, whom meekly she obey’d 250 - And early buried--but I know no more. - And hark! our friends are hast’ning to the shore.” - Allen soon found a lodging in the town, - And walk’d, a man unnoticed, up and down. - This house, and this, he knew, and thought a face - He sometimes could among a number trace; - Of names remember’d there remain’d a few, - But of no favourites, and the rest were new; - A merchant’s wealth, when Allen went to sea, - Was reckon’d boundless.--Could he living be? 260 - Or lived his son? for one he had, the heir - To a vast business, and a fortune fair. - No! but that heir’s poor widow, from her shed, - With crutches went to take her dole of bread. - There was a friend whom he had left a boy, - With hope to sail the master of a hoy; - Him, after many a stormy day, he found - With his great wish, his life’s whole purpose, crown’d. - This hoy’s proud captain look’d in Allen’s face;-- - “Yours is, my friend,” said he, “a woful case; 270 - We cannot all succeed; I now command - The Betsy sloop, and am not much at land; - But when we meet, you shall your story tell - Of foreign parts--I bid you now farewell!” - Allen so long had left his native shore, - He saw but few whom he had seen before; - The older people, as they met him, cast - A pitying look, oft speaking as they pass’d:-- - “The man is Allen Booth, and it appears - He dwelt among us in his early years; 280 - We see the name engraved upon the stones, - Where this poor wanderer means to lay his bones.” - Thus where he lived and loved--unhappy change!-- - He seems a stranger, and finds all are strange. - But now a widow, in a village near, - Chanced of the melancholy man to hear; - Old as she was, to Judith’s bosom came - Some strong emotions at the well-known name; - He was her much-loved Allen, she had stay’d - Ten troubled years, a sad afflicted maid; 290 - Then was she wedded, of his death assured, - And much of mis’ry in her lot endured; - Her husband died; her children sought their bread - In various places, and to her were dead. - The once fond lovers met; not grief nor age, - Sickness or pain, their hearts could disengage: - Each had immediate confidence; a friend - Both now beheld, on whom they might depend: - “Now is there one to whom I can express - My nature’s weakness and my soul’s distress.” 300 - Allen look’d up, and with impatient heart:-- - “Let me not lose thee--never let us part; - So Heaven this comfort to my sufferings give, - It is not all distress to think and live.” - Thus Allen spoke--for time had not removed - The charms attach’d to one so fondly loved; - Who with more health, the mistress of their cot, - Labours to soothe the evils of his lot. - To her, to her alone, his various fate, - At various times, ’tis comfort to relate; 310 - And yet his sorrow she too loves to hear - What wrings her bosom, and compels the tear. - First he related how he left the shore, - Alarm’d with fears that they should meet no more; - Then, ere the ship had reach’d her purposed course, - They met and yielded to the Spanish force; - Then ’cross th’ Atlantic seas they bore their prey, - Who grieving landed from their sultry bay; - And, marching many a burning league, he found - Himself a slave upon a miner’s ground: 320 - There a good priest his native language spoke, - And gave some ease to his tormenting yoke; - Kindly advanced him in his master’s grace, - And he was station’d in an easier place. - There, hopeless ever to escape the land, - He to a Spanish maiden gave his hand; - In cottage shelter’d from the blaze of day - He saw his happy infants round him play; - Where summer shadows, made by lofty trees, - Waved o’er his seat, and soothed his reveries; 330 - E’en then he thought of England, nor could sigh, - But his fond Isabel demanded, “Why?” - Grieved by the story, she the sigh repaid, - And wept in pity for the English maid: - Thus twenty years were pass’d, and pass’d his views - Of further bliss, for he had wealth to lose. - His friend now dead, some foe had dared to paint - “His faith as tainted: he his spouse would taint; - Make all his children infidels, and found - An English heresy on Christian ground.” 340 - “Whilst I was poor,” said Allen, “none would care - What my poor notions of religion were; - None ask’d me whom I worshipp’d, how I pray’d, - If due obedience to the laws were paid: - My good adviser taught me to be still, - Nor to make converts had I power or will. - I preached no foreign doctrine to my wife, - And never mention’d Luther in my life; - I, all they said, say what they would, allow’d, - And when the fathers bade me bow, I bow’d; 350 - Their forms I follow’d, whether well or sick, - And was a most obedient Catholic. - But I had money, and these pastors found - My notions vague, heretical, unsound: - A wicked book they seized; the very Turk - Could not have read a more pernicious work; - To me pernicious, who if it were good - Or evil question’d not, nor understood: - Oh! had I little but the book possess’d, - I might have read it, and enjoy’d my rest.” 360 - Alas! poor Allen, through his wealth was seen - Crimes that by poverty conceal’d had been: - Faults that in dusty pictures rest unknown - Are in an instant through the varnish shown. - He told their cruel mercy: how at last, - In Christian kindness for the merits past, - They spared his forfeit life, but bade him fly, - Or for his crime and contumacy die; - Fly from all scenes, all objects of delight; } - His wife, his children, weeping in his sight, } 370 - All urging him to flee, he fled, and cursed his flight.} - He next related how he found a way, - Guideless and grieving, to Campeachy Bay: - There in the woods he wrought, and there, among - Some lab’ring seamen, heard his native tongue. - The sound, one moment, broke upon his pain - With joyful force; he long’d to hear again; - Again he heard; he seized an offer’d hand, - “And when beheld you last our native land?” - He cry’d, “and in what county? quickly say!”-- 380 - The seamen answer’d, strangers all were they; - One only at his native port had been; - He, landing once, the quay and church had seen, - For that esteem’d; but nothing more he knew. - Still more to know, would Allen join the crew, - Sail where they sail’d; and, many a peril past, - They at his kinsman’s isle their anchor cast; - But him they found not, nor could one relate - Aught of his will, his wish, or his estate. - This grieved not Allen; then again he sail’d 390 - For England’s coast, again his fate prevail’d: - War raged, and he, an active man and strong, - Was soon impress’d, and served his country long. - By various shores he pass’d, on various seas, - Never so happy as when void of ease.-- - And then he told how, in a calm distress’d, - Day after day his soul was sick of rest; - When as a log upon the deep they stood, - Then roved his spirit to the inland wood; - Till, while awake, he dream’d, that on the seas 400 - Were his loved home, the hill, the stream, the trees. - He gazed, he pointed to the scenes:--“There stand - My wife, my children, ’tis my lovely land; - See! there my dwelling--oh! delicious scene - Of my best life--unhand me--are ye men?” - And thus the frenzy ruled him, till the wind - Brush’d the fond pictures from the stagnant mind. - He told of bloody fights, and how at length - The rage of battle gave his spirits strength. - ’Twas in the Indian seas his limb he lost, 410 - And he was left half-dead upon the coast; - But living gain’d, ’mid rich aspiring men, - A fair subsistence by his ready pen. - “Thus,” he continued, “pass’d unvaried years, - Without events producing hopes or fears.” - Augmented pay procured him decent wealth, - But years advancing undermined his health; - Then oft-times in delightful dream he flew - To England’s shore, and scenes his childhood knew: - He saw his parents, saw his fav’rite maid, 420 - No feature wrinkled, not a charm decay’d; - And, thus excited, in his bosom rose - A wish so strong, it baffled his repose; - Anxious he felt on English earth to lie; - To view his native soil, and there to die. - He then described the gloom, the dread he found, - When first he landed on the chosen ground, - Where undefined was all he hoped and fear’d, - And how confused and troubled all appear’d; - His thoughts in past and present scenes employ’d, 430 - All views in future blighted and destroy’d: - His were a medley of bewild’ring themes, - Sad as realities, and wild as dreams. - Here his relation closes, but his mind - Flies back again, some resting-place to find; - Thus silent, musing through the day, he sees - His children sporting by those lofty trees, - Their mother singing in the shady scene, - Where the fresh springs burst o’er the lively green;-- - So strong his eager fancy, he affrights 440 - The faithful widow by its powerful flights; - For what disturbs him he aloud will tell, - And cry--“’Tis she, my wife! my Isabel! - Where are my children?”--Judith grieves to hear - How the soul works in sorrows so severe; - Assiduous all his wishes to attend, - Deprived of much, he yet may boast a friend; - Watch’d by her care, in sleep, his spirit takes - Its flight, and watchful finds her when he wakes. - ’Tis now her office; her attention see! 450 - While her friend sleeps beneath that shading tree, - Careful she guards him from the glowing heat, - And pensive muses at her Allen’s feet. - And where is he? Ah! doubtless in those scenes - Of his best days, amid the vivid greens, - Fresh with unnumber’d rills, where ev’ry gale - Breathes the rich fragrance of the neighb’ring vale; - Smiles not his wife, and listens as there comes - The night-bird’s music from the thickening glooms? - And as he sits with all these treasures nigh, } 460 - Blaze not with fairy light the phosphor-fly, } - When like a sparkling gem it wheels illumined by? } - This is the joy that now so plainly speaks - In the warm transient flushing of his cheeks; - For he is list’ning to the fancied noise - Of his own children, eager in their joys: - All this he feels, a dream’s delusive bliss - Gives the expression, and the glow like this. - And now his Judith lays her knitting by, - These strong emotions in her friend to spy; 470 - For she can fully of their nature deem---- } - But see! he breaks the long-protracted theme, } - And wakes and cries--“My God! ’twas but a dream.” } - - - - -TALE III. - -_THE GENTLEMAN FARMER_. - - - Pause [there . . .] - And weigh thy value with an even hand; - If thou beest rated by thy estimation, - Thou dost deserve enough. - _Merchant of Venice_, Act II. Scene 7. - -Because I will not do them wrong to mistrust any, I will do myself -the right to trust none; and the fine is (for which I may go the -finer), I will live a bachelor. - - _Much Ado about Nothing_, Act I. Scene 1. - - Throw physic to the dogs, I’ll none of it. - _Macbeth_, Act V. Scene 3. - - His promises are, as he then was, mighty; - And his performance, as he now is, nothing. - _Henry VIII_. Act IV. Scene 2. - - -TALE III. - -_THE GENTLEMAN FARMER._ - - Gwyn was a farmer, whom the farmers all, - Who dwelt around, the Gentleman would call; - Whether in pure humility or pride, - They only knew, and they would not decide. - Far diff’rent he from that dull plodding tribe, - Whom it was his amusement to describe; - Creatures no more enliven’d than a clod, - But treading still as their dull fathers trod; - Who lived in times when not a man had seen - Corn sown by drill, or thresh’d by a machine: 10 - He was of those whose skill assigns the prize - For creatures fed in pens, and stalls, and sties; - And who, in places where improvers meet, - To fill the land with fatness, had a seat; - Who in large mansions live like petty kings, - And speak of farms but as amusing things; - Who plans encourage, and who journals keep, - And talk with lords about a breed of sheep. - Two are the species in this genus known; - One, who is rich in his profession grown, 20 - Who yearly finds his ample stores increase, - From fortune’s favours and a favouring lease; - Who rides his hunter, who his house adorns; - Who drinks his wine, and his disbursements scorns, - Who freely lives, and loves to show he can-- - This is the farmer, made the gentleman. - The second species from the world is sent, - Tired with its strife, or with his wealth content; - In books and men beyond the former read, - To farming solely by a passion led, 30 - Or by a fashion; curious in his land; - Now planning much, now changing what he plann’d; - Pleased by each trial, not by failures vex’d, - And ever certain to succeed the next; - Quick to resolve, and easy to persuade-- - This is the gentleman, a farmer made. - Gwyn was of these; he from the world withdrew - Early in life, his reasons known to few; - Some disappointment said, some pure good sense, - The love of land, the press of indolence; 40 - His fortune known, and coming to retire, - If not a farmer, men had call’d him ’squire. - Forty and five his years, no child or wife - Cross’d the still tenour of his chosen life; - Much land he purchased, planted far around, - And let some portions of superfluous ground - To farmers near him, not displeased to say, - “My tenants,” nor, “our worthy landlord,” they. - Fix’d in his farm, he soon display’d his skill - In small-boned lambs, the horse-hoe, and the drill; 50 - From these he rose to themes of nobler kind, - And show’d the riches of a fertile mind; - To all around their visits he repaid, - And thus his mansion and himself display’d. - His rooms were stately, rather fine than neat, - And guests politely call’d his house a seat; - At much expense was each apartment graced, - His taste was gorgeous, but it still was taste; - In full festoons the crimson curtains fell, - The sofas rose in bold elastic swell; 60 - Mirrors in gilded frames display’d the tints - Of glowing carpets and of colour’d prints; - The weary eye saw every object shine, - And all was costly, fanciful, and fine. - As with his friends he pass’d the social hours, - His generous spirit scorn’d to hide its powers; - Powers unexpected, for his eye and air - Gave no sure signs that eloquence was there; - Oft he began with sudden fire and force, - As loth to lose occasion for discourse; 70 - Some, ’tis observed, who feel a wish to speak, - Will a due place for introduction seek; - On to their purpose step by step they steal, - And all their way, by certain signals, feel; - Others plunge in at once, and never heed - Whose turn they take, whose purpose they impede; - Resolved to shine, they hasten to begin, - Of ending thoughtless--and of these was Gwyn. - And thus he spake: - ----“It grieves me to the soul - To see how man submits to man’s control; 80 - How overpower’d and shackled minds are led - In vulgar tracks, and to submission bred; - The coward never on himself relies, - But to an equal for assistance flies; - Man yields to custom as he bows to fate, - In all things ruled--mind, body, and estate; - In pain, in sickness, we for cure apply - To them we know not, and we know not why; - But that the creature has some jargon read, - And got some Scotchman’s system in his head; 90 - Some grave impostor, who will health insure, - Long as your patience or your wealth endure; - But mark them well, the pale and sickly crew, - They have not health, and can they give it you? - These solemn cheats their various methods choose; - A system fires them, as a bard his muse: - Hence wordy wars arise; the learn’d divide, - And groaning patients curse each erring guide. - “Next, our affairs are govern’d, buy or sell, - Upon the deed the law must fix its spell; 100 - Whether we hire or let, we must have still - The dubious aid of an attorney’s skill; - They take a part in every man’s affairs, - And in all business some concern is theirs; - Because mankind in ways prescribed are found, - Like flocks that follow on a beaten ground, - Each abject nature in the way proceeds, - That now to shearing, now to slaughter leads. - “Should you offend, though meaning no offence, - You have no safety in your innocence; 110 - The statute broken then is placed in view, - And men must pay for crimes they never knew. - Who would by law regain his plunder’d store, - Would pick up fallen merc’ry from the floor; - If he pursue it, here and there it slides; - He would collect it, but it more divides; - This part and this he stops, but still in vain, - It slips aside, and breaks in parts again; - Till, after time and pains, and care and cost, - He finds his labour and his object lost. 120 - “But most it grieves me, (friends alone are round,) - To see a man in priestly fetters bound; - Guides to the soul, these friends of Heaven contrive, - Long as man lives, to keep his fears alive; - Soon as an infant breathes, their rites begin; - Who knows not sinning, must be freed from sin; - Who needs no bond must yet engage in vows; - Who has no judgment, must a creed espouse: - Advanced in life, our boys are bound by rules, } - Are catechised in churches, cloisters, schools, } 130 - And train’d in thraldom to be fit for tools; } - The youth grown up, he now a partner needs, - And lo! a priest, as soon as he succeeds. - What man of sense can marriage-rites approve? - What man of spirit can be bound to love? - Forced to be kind! compell’d to be sincere! - Do chains and fetters make companions dear? - Pris’ners indeed we bind; but though the bond - May keep them safe, it does not make them fond: - The ring, the vow, the witness, licence, prayers, 140 - All parties known! made public all affairs! - Such forms men suffer, and from these they date - A deed of love begun with all they hate. - Absurd, that none the beaten road should shun, - But love to do what other dupes have done! - “Well, now your priest has made you one of twain, - Look you for rest? Alas! you look in vain. - If sick, he comes; you cannot die in peace, - Till he attends to witness your release; - To vex your soul, and urge you to confess 150 - The sins you feel, remember, or can guess; - Nay, when departed, to your grave he goes, - But there indeed he hurts not your repose. - “Such are our burthens; part we must sustain, - But need not link new grievance to the chain. - Yet men like idiots will their frames surround - With these vile shackles, nor confess they’re bound; - In all that most confines them they confide, - Their slavery boast, and make their bonds their pride; - E’en as the pressure galls them, they declare, 160 - (Good souls!) how happy and how free they are! - As madmen, pointing round their wretched cells, - Cry, ‘Lo! the palace where our honour dwells.’ - “Such is our state: but I resolve to live - By rules my reason and my feelings give; - No legal guards shall keep enthrall’d my mind, - No slaves command me, and no teachers blind. - “Tempted by sins, let me their strength defy, - But have no second in a surplice by - No bottle-holder, with officious aid, 170 - To comfort conscience, weaken’d and afraid: - Then if I yield, my frailty is not known; - And, if I stand, the glory is my own. - “When Truth and Reason are our friends, we seem - Alive! awake!--the superstitious dream. - “Oh! then, fair Truth, for thee alone I seek, - Friend to the wise, supporter of the weak; - From thee we learn whate’er is right and just; - Forms to despise, professions to distrust; - Creeds to reject, pretensions to deride, 180 - And, following thee, to follow none beside.” - Such was the speech; it struck upon the ear - Like sudden thunder, none expect to hear. - He saw men’s wonder with a manly pride, - And gravely smiled at guest electrified; - “A farmer this!” they said, “Oh! let him seek - That place where he may for his country speak; - On some great question to harangue for hours, - While speakers hearing, envy nobler powers!” - Wisdom like this, as all things rich and rare, 190 - Must be acquired with pains, and kept with care; - In books he sought it, which his friends might view, - When their kind host the guarding curtain drew. - There were historic works for graver hours, - And lighter verse, to spur the languid powers; - There metaphysics, logic there had place; - But of devotion not a single trace-- - Save what is taught in Gibbon’s florid page, - And other guides of this inquiring age; - There Hume appear’d, and, near, a splendid book 200 - Composed by Gay’s good Lord of Bolingbroke: - With these were mix’d the light, the free, the vain, - And from a corner peep’d the sage Tom Paine: - Here four neat volumes ‘Chesterfield’ were named, - For manners much and easy morals famed; - With chaste Memoirs of Females, to be read - When deeper studies had confused the head. - Such his resources, treasures where he sought - For daily knowledge till his mind was fraught: - Then, when his friends were present, for their use 210 - He would the riches he had stored produce; - He found his lamp burn clearer, when each day - He drew for all he purposed to display. - For these occasions, forth his knowledge sprung, - As mustard quickens on a bed of dung; - All was prepared, and guests allow’d the praise, - For what they saw he could so quickly raise. - Such this new friend; and, when the year came round, - The same impressive, reasoning sage was found: - Then, too, was seen the pleasant mansion graced 220 - With a fair damsel--his no vulgar taste: - The neat Rebecca--sly, observant, still; - Watching his eye, and waiting on his will; - Simple yet smart her dress, her manners meek, - Her smiles spoke for her, she would seldom speak; - But watch’d each look, each meaning to detect, - And (pleas’d with notice) felt for all neglect. - With her lived Gwyn a sweet harmonious life, - Who, forms excepted, was a charming wife. - The wives indeed, so made by vulgar law, 230 - Affected scorn, and censured what they saw; - And what they saw not, fancied; said ’twas sin, - And took no notice of the wife of Gwyn. - But he despised their rudeness, and would prove - Theirs was compulsion and distrust, not love; - “Fools as they were! could they conceive that rings - And parsons’ blessings were substantial things?” - They answer’d “Yes;” while he contemptuous spoke - Of the low notions held by simple folk; - Yet, strange that anger in a man so wise } 240 - Should from the notions of these fools arise; } - Can they so vex us, whom we so despise? } - Brave as he was, our hero felt a dread - Lest those who saw him kind should think him led; - If to his bosom fear a visit paid, - It was, lest he should be supposed afraid. - Hence sprang his orders; not that he desired - The things when done: obedience he required; - And thus, to prove his absolute command, - Ruled every heart, and moved each subject hand; 250 - Assent he ask’d for every word and whim, - To prove that _he alone was king of him_. - The still Rebecca, who her station knew, - With ease resign’d the honours not her due; - Well pleased, she saw that men her board would grace, - And wish’d not there to see a female face; - When by her lover she his spouse was styled, - Polite she thought it, and demurely smiled; - But when he wanted wives and maidens round - So to regard her, she grew grave, and frown’d; 260 - And sometimes whisper’d--“Why should you respect - These people’s notions, yet their forms reject?” - Gwyn, though from marriage bond and fetter free, - Still felt abridgment in his liberty; - Something of hesitation he betray’d, - And in her presence thought of what he said. - Thus fair Rebecca, though she walk’d astray, - His creed rejecting, judged it right to pray; - To be at church, to sit with serious looks, - To read her Bible and her Sunday-books. 270 - She hated all those new and daring themes, - And call’d his free conjectures “devil’s dreams;” - She honour’d still the priesthood in her fall, - And claim’d respect and reverence for them all; - Call’d them “of sin’s destructive power the foes, - And not such blockheads as he might suppose.” - Gwyn to his friends would smile, and sometimes say, - “’Tis a kind fool, why vex her in her way?” - Her way she took, and still had more in view, - For she contrived that he should take it too. 280 - The daring freedom of his soul, ’twas plain, - In part was lost in a divided reign: - A king and queen, who yet in prudence sway’d - Their peaceful state, and were in turn obey’d. - Yet such our fate that, when we plan the best, - Something arises to disturb our rest: - For, though in spirits high, in body strong, - Gwyn something felt--he knew not what--was wrong; - He wish’d to know, for he believed the thing, - If unremoved, would other evil bring: 290 - She must perceive, of late he could not eat, - And when he walk’d, he trembled on his feet; - He had forebodings, and he seem’d as one - Stopp’d on the road, or threatened by a dun; - He could not live, and yet, should he apply - To those physicians--he must sooner die.” - The mild Rebecca heard with some disdain, - And some distress, her friend and lord complain: - His death she fear’d not, but had painful doubt - What his distemper’d nerves might bring about; 300 - With power like hers she dreaded an ally, - And yet there was a person in her eye;-- - She thought, debated, fix’d--“Alas!” she said, - A case like yours must be no more delay’d. - You hate these doctors; well! but were a friend - And doctor one, your fears would have an end. - My cousin Mollet--Scotland holds him now-- - Is above all men skilful, all allow: - Of late a doctor, and within a while - He means to settle in this favour’d isle; 310 - Should he attend you, with his skill profound, - You must be safe, and shortly would be sound.” - When men in health against physicians rail, - They should consider that their nerves may fail; - Who calls a lawyer rogue, may find, too late, - On one of these depends his whole estate; - Nay, when the world can nothing more produce, - The priest, th’ insulted priest, may have his use. - Ease, health, and comfort, lift a man so high, - These powers are dwarfs that he can scarcely spy; 320 - Pain, sickness, languor, keep a man so low, - That these neglected dwarfs to giants grow. - Happy is he who through the medium sees - Of clear good sense--but Gwyn was not of these. - He heard and he rejoiced: “Ah! let him come, - And, till he fixes, make my house his home.” - Home came the doctor--he was much admired; - He told the patient what his case required; - His hours for sleep, his time to eat and drink; - When he should ride, read, rest, compose, or think. 330 - Thus join’d peculiar skill and art profound, - To make the fancy-sick no more than fancy-sound. - With such attention, who could long be ill? - Returning health proclaim’d the doctor’s skill. - Presents and praises from a grateful heart - Were freely offer’d on the patient’s part; - In high repute the doctor seem’d to stand, - But still had got no footing in the land; - And, as he saw the seat was rich and fair, - He felt disposed to fix his station there. 340 - To gain his purpose, he perform’d the part - Of a good actor, and prepared to start-- - Not like a traveller in a day serene, - When the sun shone and when the roads were clean; - Not like the pilgrim, when the morning gray, - The ruddy eve succeeding, sends his way; - But in a season when the sharp east wind - Had all its influence on a nervous mind. - When past the parlour’s front it fiercely blew, } - And Gwyn sat pitying every bird that flew, } 350 - This strange physician said--“Adieu! adieu! } - Farewell!--Heaven bless you!--if you should--but no, - You need not fear--farewell! ’tis time to go.” - The doctor spoke; and as the patient heard, - His old disorders (dreadful train!) appear’d; - He felt the tingling tremor, and the stress - Upon his nerves that he could not express; - Should his good friend forsake him, he perhaps - Might meet his death, and surely a relapse.” - So, as the doctor seem’d intent to part, 360 - He cried in terror--“Oh! be where thou art: - Come, thou art young, and unengaged; oh! come, - Make me thy friend, give comfort to mine home; - I have now symptoms that require thine aid, - Do, doctor, stay”--th’ obliging doctor stay’d. - Thus Gwyn was happy; he had now a friend, - And a meek spouse on whom he could depend. - But now, possess’d of male and female guide, - Divided power he thus must subdivide: - In earlier days he rode, or sat at ease 370 - Reclined, and having but himself to please; - Now, if he would a fav’rite nag bestride, - He sought permission--“Doctor, may I ride?”-- - (Rebecca’s eye her sovereign pleasure told,)-- - “I think you may; but, guarded from the cold, - Ride forty minutes.”--Free and happy soul! - He scorn’d submission, and a man’s control; - But where such friends in every care unite - All for his good, obedience is delight. - Now Gwyn, a sultan, bade affairs adieu, 380 - Led and assisted by the faithful two; - The favourite fair, Rebecca, near him sat, - And whisper’d whom to love, assist, or hate; - While the chief vizier eased his lord of cares, - And bore himself the burden of affairs. - No dangers could from such alliance flow, - But from that law that changes all below. - When wint’ry winds with leaves bestrew’d the ground, - And men were coughing all the village round; - When public papers of invasion told, 390 - Diseases, famines, perils new and old; - When philosophic writers fail’d to clear - The mind of gloom, and lighter works to cheer; - Then came fresh terrors on our hero’s mind-- - Fears unforeseen, and feelings undefined. - “In outward ills,” he cried, “I rest assured - Of my friend’s aid; they will in time be cured: - But can his art subdue, resist, control - These inward griefs and troubles of the soul? - Oh! my Rebecca! my disorder’d mind 400 - No help in study, none in thought can find; - What must I do, Rebecca?” She proposed - The parish-guide; but what could be disclosed - To a proud priest?--“No! him have I defied, - Insulted, slighted--shall he be my guide? - But one there is, and if report be just, - A wise good man, whom I may safely trust; - Who goes from house to house, from ear to ear, } - To make his truths, his Gospel truths, appear; } - True if indeed they be, ’tis time that I should hear. } 410 - Send for that man; and if report be just, - I, like Cornelius, will the teacher trust; - But, if deceiver, I the vile deceit - Shall soon discover, and discharge the cheat.” - To Doctor Mollet was the grief confess’d, - While Gwyn the freedom of his mind express’d; - Yet own’d it was to ills and errors prone, - And he for guilt and frailty must atone. - “My books, perhaps,” the wav’ring mortal cried, - “Like men deceive--I would be satisfied; 420 - And to my soul the pious man may bring - Comfort and light--do let me try the thing.” - The cousins met; what pass’d with Gwyn was told; - “Alas!” the doctor said; “how hard to hold - These easy minds, where all impressions made - At first sink deeply, and then quickly fade; - For while so strong these new-born fancies reign, - We must divert them, to oppose is vain. - You see him valiant now, he scorns to heed - The bigot’s threat’nings or the zealot’s creed; 430 - Shook by a dream, he next for truth receives - What frenzy teaches, and what fear believes; - And this will place him in the power of one - Whom we must seek, because we cannot shun.” - Wisp had been ostler at a busy inn, - Where he beheld and grew in dread of sin; - Then to a Baptists’ meeting found his way, - Became a convert, and was taught to pray; - Then preach’d; and, being earnest and sincere, - Brought other sinners to religious fear. 440 - Together grew his influence and his fame, - Till our dejected hero heard his name; - His little failings were a grain of pride, - Raised by the numbers he presumed to guide: - A love of presents, and of lofty praise - For his meek spirit and his humble ways; - But though this spirit would on flattery feed, - No praise could blind him and no arts mislead. - To him the doctor made the wishes known - Of his good patron, but concealed his own; 450 - He of all teachers had distrust and doubt, - And was reserved in what he came about; - Though on a plain and simple message sent, - He had a secret and a bold intent. - Their minds at first were deeply veil’d; disguise - Form’d the slow speech, and op’d the eager eyes; - Till by degrees sufficient light was thrown - On every view, and all the business shown. - Wisp, as a skilful guide who led the blind, } - Had powers to rule and awe the vapourish mind, } 460 - But not the changeful will, the wavering fear to bind; } - And, should his conscience give him leave to dwell - With Gwyn, and every rival power expel, - (A dubious point,) yet he, with every care, - Might soon the lot of the rejected share, - And other Wisps be found like him to reign, - And then be thrown upon the world again. - He thought it prudent, then, and felt it just, - The present guides of his new friend to trust; - True, he conceived, to touch the harder heart 470 - Of the cool doctor, was beyond his art; - But mild Rebecca he could surely sway, - While Gwyn would follow where she led the way: - So, to do good, (and why a duty shun, - Because rewarded for the good when done?) - He with his friends would join in all they plann’d, - Save when his faith or feelings should withstand; - There he must rest, sole judge of his affairs, - While they might rule exclusively in theirs. - When Gwyn his message to the teacher sent, 480 - He fear’d his friends would show their discontent; - And prudent seem’d it to th’ attendant pair, - Not all at once to show an aspect fair. - On Wisp they seem’d to look with jealous eye, - And fair Rebecca was demure and shy; - But by degrees the teacher’s worth they knew, - And were so kind, they seem’d converted too. - Wisp took occasion to the nymph to say, - “You must be married: will you name the day?” - She smiled,--“’Tis well; but, should he not comply, 490 - Is it quite safe th’ experiment to try?”-- - “My child,” the teacher said, “who feels remorse, - (And feels not he?) must wish relief of course; - And can he find it, while he fears the crime?-- - You must be married; will you name the time?” - Glad was the patron as a man could be, } - Yet marvell’d too, to find his guides agree; } - “But what the cause?” he cried; “’tis genuine love for me.” } - Each found his part, and let one act describe - The powers and honours of th’ accordant tribe:-- 500 - A man for favour to the mansion speeds, - And cons his threefold task as he proceeds; - To teacher Wisp he bows with humble air, - And begs his interest for a barn’s repair; - Then for the doctor he inquires, who loves - To hear applause for what his skill improves, - And gives, for praise, assent,--and to the fair - He brings of pullets a delicious pair; - Thus sees a peasant, with discernment nice, - A love of power, conceit, and avarice. 510 - Lo! now the change complete: the convert Gwyn - Has sold his books, and has renounced his sin; - Mollet his body orders, Wisp his soul, - And o’er his purse the lady takes control; - No friends beside he needs, and none attend-- - Soul, body, and estate, has each a friend; - And fair Rebecca leads a virtuous life-- - She rules a mistress, and she reigns a wife. - - - - -TALE IV. - -_PROCRASTINATION._ - - - Heaven witness - I have been to you [a true and humble wife.] - _Henry VIII_. Act II. Scene 4. - - Gentle lady, - When first I did impart my love to you, - I freely told you all the wealth I had. - _Merchant of Venice_, Act III. Scene 2. - - [The leisure and the fearful time] - Cuts off [the ceremonious] vows of love, - And ample interchange of sweet discourse, - Which so long sunder’d friends should dwell upon. - _Richard III_. Act V. Scene 3. - - I know thee not, old man; fall to thy prayers. - 2 _Henry IV_. Act V. Scene 5. - - Farewell, - Thou pure impiety [and] impious purity; - For thee I’ll lock up all the gates of love. - _Much Ado about Nothing_, Act IV. Scene 1. - - -TALE IV. - -_PROCRASTINATION._ - - Love will expire; the gay, the happy dream - Will turn to scorn, indiff’rence, or esteem. - Some favour’d pairs, in this exchange, are bless’d, - Nor sigh for raptures in a state of rest; - Others, ill match’d, with minds unpair’d, repent - At once the deed, and know no more content; - From joy to anguish they, in haste, decline, - And with their fondness, their esteem resign. - More luckless still their fate, who are the prey - Of long-protracted hope and dull delay; 10 - ’Mid plans of bliss the heavy hours pass on, - Till love is wither’d, and till joy is gone. - This gentle flame two youthful hearts possess’d, - The sweet disturber of unenvied rest: - The prudent Dinah was the maid beloved, - And the kind Rupert was the swain approved. - A wealthy aunt her gentle niece sustain’d, - He, with a father, at his desk remain’d; - The youthful couple, to their vows sincere, } - Thus loved expectant; year succeeding year, } 20 - With pleasant views and hopes, but not a prospect near. } - Rupert some comfort in his station saw, - But the poor virgin lived in dread and awe; - Upon her anxious looks the widow smiled, - And bade her wait, “for she was yet a child.” - She for her neighbour had a due respect, - Nor would his son encourage or reject; - And thus the pair, with expectations vain, - Beheld the seasons change and change again. - Meantime the nymph her tender tales perused, 30 - Where cruel aunts impatient girls refused; - While hers, though teasing, boasted to be kind, - And she, resenting, to be all resign’d. - The dame was sick, and, when the youth applied - For her consent, she groan’d, and cough’d, and cried; - Talk’d of departing, and again her breath - Drew hard, and cough’d, and talk’d again of death: - “Here you may live, my Dinah! here the boy - And you together my estate enjoy.” - Thus to the lovers was her mind express’d, 40 - Till they forbore to urge the fond request. - Servant, and nurse, and comforter, and friend, - Dinah had still some duty to attend; - But yet their walk, when Rupert’s evening call - Obtain’d an hour, made sweet amends for all; - So long they now each other’s thoughts had known, - That nothing seem’d exclusively their own; - But with the common wish, the mutual fear, - They now had travell’d to their thirtieth year. - At length a prospect open’d--but, alas! - Long time must yet before the union pass; 50 - Rupert was call’d in other clime, t’increase - Another’s wealth, and toil for future peace; - Loth were the lovers; but the aunt declared - ’Twas fortune’s call, and they must be prepared: - “You now are young, and for this brief delay, - And Dinah’s care, what I bequeath will pay; - All will be yours; nay, love, suppress that sigh; - The kind must suffer, and the best must die.” - Then came the cough, and strong the signs it gave - Of holding long contention with the grave. 60 - The lovers parted with a gloomy view, - And little comfort but that both were true; - He for uncertain duties doom’d to steer, - While hers remained too certain and severe. - Letters arrived, and Rupert fairly told - “His cares were many, and his hopes were cold; - The view more clouded, that was never fair, - And love alone preserved him from despair.” - In other letters brighter hopes he drew, 70 - “His friends were kind, and he believed them true.” - When the sage widow Dinah’s grief descried, - She wonder’d much why one so happy sigh’d; - Then bade her see how her poor aunt sustain’d - The ills of life, nor murmur’d nor complain’d. - To vary pleasures, from the lady’s chest - Were drawn the pearly string and tabby vest; - Beads, jewels, laces, all their value shown, - With the kind notice--“They will be your own.” - This hope, these comforts cherish’d day by day, 80 - To Dinah’s bosom made a gradual way; - Till love of treasure had as large a part - As love of Rupert in the virgin’s heart. - Whether it be that tender passions fail - From their own nature, while the strong prevail; - Or whether av’rice, like the poison-tree[3], - Kills all beside it, and alone will be: - Whatever cause prevail’d, the pleasure grew - In Dinah’s soul--she loved the hoards to view; - With lively joy those comforts she survey’d, 90 - And love grew languid in the careful maid. - Now the grave niece partook the widow’s cares; - Look’d to the great and ruled the small affairs; - Saw clean’d the plate, arranged the china show, - And felt her passion for a shilling grow. - Th’ indulgent aunt increased the maid’s delight, - By placing tokens of her wealth in sight; - She loved the value of her bonds to tell, - And spake of stocks, and how they rose and fell. - This passion grew, and gain’d at length such sway, 100 - That other passions shrank to make it way; - Romantic notions now the heart forsook, - She read but seldom, and she changed her book; - And for the verses she was wont to send, - Short was her prose, and she was Rupert’s friend. - Seldom she wrote, and then the widow’s cough, - And constant call, excused her breaking off; - Who now, oppress’d, no longer took the air, - But sate and dozed upon an easy chair. - The cautious doctor saw the case was clear, 110 - But judged it best to have companions near; - They came, they reason’d, they prescribed--at last, - Like honest men, they said their hopes were past; - Then came a priest--’tis comfort to reflect, - When all is over, there was no neglect; - And all was over--by her husband’s bones, - The widow rests beneath the sculptured stones, - That yet record their fondness and their fame, - While all they left the virgin’s care became: - Stock, bonds, and buildings;--it disturb’d her rest, 120 - To think what load of troubles she possess’d. - Yet, if a trouble, she resolved to take - Th’ important duty, for the donor’s sake; - She too was heiress to the widow’s taste, - Her love of hoarding, and her dread of waste. - Sometimes the past would on her mind intrude, - And then a conflict full of care ensued; - The thoughts of Rupert on her mind would press, - His worth she knew, but doubted his success; - Of old she saw him heedless; what the boy 130 - Forbore to save, the man would not enjoy; - Oft had he lost the chance that care would seize, - Willing to live, but more to live at ease; - Yet could she not a broken vow defend, - And Heav’n, perhaps, might yet enrich her friend. - Month after month was pass’d, and all were spent - In quiet comfort and in rich content: - Miseries there were, and woes the world around, - But these had not her pleasant dwelling found; - She knew that mothers grieved, and widows wept, 140 - And she was sorry, said her prayers, and slept. - Thus pass’d the seasons, and to Dinah’s board - Gave what the seasons to the rich afford; - For she indulged, nor was her heart so small, - That one strong passion should engross it all. - A love of splendour now with av’rice strove, - And oft appear’d to be the stronger love; - A secret pleasure fill’d the widow’s breast, - When she reflected on the hoards possess’d; - But livelier joy inspired th’ ambitious maid, 150 - When she the purchase of those hoards display’d. - In small but splendid room she loved to see - That all was placed in view and harmony; - There, as with eager glance she look’d around, - She much delight in every object found; - While books devout were near her--to destroy, - Should it arise, an overflow of joy. - Within that fair apartment, guests might see - The comforts cull’d for wealth by vanity. - Around the room an Indian paper blazed, 160 - With lively tint and figures boldly raised; - Silky and soft upon the floor below, - Th’ elastic carpet rose with crimson glow; - All things around implied both cost and care; - What met the eye was elegant or rare. - Some curious trifles round the room were laid, - By hope presented to the wealthy maid: - Within a costly case of varnish’d wood, - In level rows, her polish’d volumes stood; - Shown as a favour to a chosen few, 170 - To prove what beauty for a book could do; - A silver urn with curious work was fraught; - A silver lamp from Grecian pattern wrought; - Above her head, all gorgeous to behold, - A time-piece stood on feet of burnish’d gold; - A stag’s-head crest adorn’d the pictured case, - Through the pure crystal shone th’ enamell’d face; - And, while on brilliants moved the hands of steel, - It click’d from pray’r to pray’r, from meal to meal. - Here as the lady sate, a friendly pair 180 - Stept in t’ admire the view, and took their chair. - They then related how the young and gay - Were thoughtless wandering in the broad highway; - How tender damsels sail’d in tilted boats, - And laugh’d with wicked men in scarlet coats; - And how we live in such degen’rate times - That men conceal their wants, and show their crimes; - While vicious deeds are screen’d by fashion’s name, - And what was once our pride is now our shame. - Dinah was musing, as her friends discoursed, 190 - When these last words a sudden entrance forced - Upon her mind, and what was once her pride - And now her shame, some painful views supplied; - Thoughts of the past within her bosom press’d, - And there a change was felt, and was confess’d. - While thus the virgin strove with secret pain, - Her mind was wandering o’er the troubled main; - Still she was silent, nothing seem’d to see, - But sate and sigh’d in pensive reverie. - The friends prepared new subjects to begin, 200 - When tall Susannah, maiden starch, stalk’d in; - Not in her ancient mode, sedate and slow, - As when she came, the mind she knew to know; - Nor as, when list’ning half an hour before, - She twice or thrice tapp’d gently at the door; - But, all decorum cast in wrath aside, - “I think the devil’s in the man!” she cried; - “A huge tall sailor, with his tawny cheek, - And pitted face, will with my lady speak; - He grinn’d an ugly smile, and said he knew, 210 - Please you, my lady, ’twould be joy to you; - What must I answer?”--Trembling and distress’d - Sank the pale Dinah, by her fears oppress’d; - When thus alarm’d, and brooking no delay, - Swift to her room the stranger made his way. - “Revive, my love!” said he, “I’ve done thee harm, - Give me thy pardon,” and he look’d alarm; - Meantime the prudent Dinah had contrived - Her soul to question, and she then revived. - “See! my good friend,” and then she raised her head, } 220 - “The bloom of life, the strength of youth is fled; } - Living we die; to us the world is dead. } - We parted bless’d with health, and I am now - Age-struck and feeble, so I find art thou; - Thine eye is sunken, furrow’d is thy face, - And downward look’st thou--so we run our race; - And happier they, whose race is nearly run, - Their troubles over, and their duties done.”-- - “True, lady, true, we are not girl and boy; - But time has left us something to enjoy.”-- 230 - “What! thou hast learn’d my fortune?--yes, I live - To feel how poor the comforts wealth can give; - Thou too perhaps art wealthy; but our fate - Still mocks our wishes, wealth is come too late.”-- - “To me nor late nor early; I am come - Poor as I left thee to my native home: - Nor yet,” said Rupert, “will I grieve; ’tis mine - To share thy comforts, and the glory thine; - For thou wilt gladly take that generous part - That both exalts and gratifies the heart; 240 - While mine rejoices.”--“Heavens!” return’d the maid, - “This talk to one so wither’d and decayed? - No! all my care is now to fit my mind - For other spousal, and to die resign’d. - As friend and neighbour, I shall hope to see - These noble views, this pious love in thee; - That we together may the change await, - Guides and spectators in each other’s fate; - When fellow-pilgrims, we shall daily crave - The mutual prayer that arms us for the grave.” 250 - Half angry, half in doubt, the lover gazed - On the meek maiden, by her speech amazed. - “Dinah,” said he, “dost thou respect thy vows? - What spousal mean’st thou?--thou art Rupert’s spouse; - The chance is mine to take, and thine to give; - But trifling this, if we together live. - Can I believe, that, after all the past, - Our vows, our loves, thou wilt be false at last? - Something thou hast--I know not what--in view; - I find thee pious--let me find thee true.”-- 260 - “Ah! cruel this; but do, my friend, depart; - And to its feelings leave my wounded heart.”-- - “Nay, speak at once; and, Dinah, let me know, - Mean’st thou to take me, now I’m wreck’d, in tow? - Be fair; nor longer keep me in the dark; - Am I forsaken for a trimmer spark? - Heav’n’s spouse thou art not; nor can I believe - That God accepts her who will man deceive. - True, I am shatter’d; I have service seen, - And service done, and have in trouble been; 270 - My cheek (it shames me not) has lost its red, - And the brown buff is o’er my features spread; - Perchance my speech is rude; for I among - Th’ untamed have been, in temper and in tongue; - Have been trepann’d, have lived in toil and care, - And wrought for wealth I was not doom’d to share; - It touch’d me deeply, for I felt a pride - In gaining riches for my destined bride. - Speak, then, my fate; for these my sorrows past, - Time lost, youth fled, hope wearied, and at last 280 - This doubt of thee--a childish thing to tell, - But certain truth--my very throat they swell; - They stop the breath, and but for shame could I - Give way to weakness, and with passion cry; - These are unmanly struggles, but I feel - This hour must end them, and perhaps will heal.”-- - Here Dinah sigh’d as if afraid to speak-- - And then repeated--“They were frail and weak; - His soul she loved, and hoped he had the grace - To fix his thoughts upon a better place.” 290 - She ceased;--with steady glance, as if to see - The very root of this hypocrisy, - He her small fingers moulded in his hard - And bronzed broad hand; then told her, his regard, - His best respect were gone, but love had still - Hold in his heart, and govern’d yet the will-- - Or he would curse her;--saying this, he threw } - The hand in scorn away, and bade adieu } - To every lingering hope, with every care in view. } - Proud and indignant, suffering, sick, and poor, 300 - He grieved unseen, and spoke of love no more-- - Till all he felt in indignation died, - As hers had sunk in avarice and pride. - In health declining, as in mind distress’d, - To some in power his troubles he confess’d, - And shares a parish-gift;--at prayers he sees - The pious Dinah dropp’d upon her knees; - Thence as she walks the street with stately air, - As chance directs, oft meet the parted pair. - When he, with thickset coat of badge-man’s blue, 310 - Moves near her shaded silk of changeful hue; - When his thin locks of grey approach her braid, - A costly purchase made in beauty’s aid; - When his frank air, and his unstudied pace, } - Are seen with her soft manner, air, and grace. } - And his plain artless look with her sharp meaning face: } - It might some wonder in a stranger move, - How these together could have talk’d of love. - Behold them now!--see, there a tradesman stands, - And humbly hearkens to some fresh commands; 320 - He moves to speak, she interrupts him--“Stay,” - Her air expresses--“Hark to what I say!” - Ten paces off, poor Rupert on a seat - Has taken refuge from the noon-day heat, - His eyes on her intent, as if to find - What were the movements of that subtle mind; - How still! how earnest is he!--it appears - His thoughts are wand’ring through his earlier years; - Through years of fruitless labour, to the day - When all his earthly prospects died away. 330 - “Had I,” he thinks, “been wealthier of the two, } - Would she have found me so unkind, untrue? } - Or knows not man, when poor, what man when rich will do? } - Yes, yes! I feel that I had faithful proved, - And should have soothed and raised her, bless’d and loved.” - But Dinah moves--she had observed before - The pensive Rupert at an humble door. - Some thoughts of pity raised by his distress, - Some feeling touch of ancient tenderness; - Religion, duty, urged the maid to speak 340 - In terms of kindness to a man so weak; - But pride forbad, and to return would prove - She felt the shame of his neglected love; - Nor wrapp’d in silence could she pass, afraid - Each eye should see her, and each heart upbraid. - One way remain’d--the way the Levite took, - Who without mercy could on misery look, - (A way perceived by craft, approved by pride): - She cross’d, and pass’d him on the other side. - -[3] Allusion is here made, not to the well-known species of _sumach,_ -called the poison-oak, or _toxicodendron_, but to the _upas_, or -poison-tree of Java; whether it be real or imaginary, this is no -proper place for inquiry. - - - - -TALE V. - -_THE PATRON._ - - - It were all one, - That I should love a bright [particular] star, - And think to wed it; [he] is so much above me: - In [his] bright radiance and collateral heat - Must I be comforted, not in [his] sphere. - _All’s Well that Ends Well_, Act I. Scene 1. - - Poor wretches, that depend - On greatness’ favours, dream as I have done,-- - Wake, and find nothing. - _Cymbeline_, Act V. Scene 4. - - And since . . . - Th’ affliction of my mind amends, with which - I fear a madness held me. - _[The] Tempest_, Act V. - - -TALE V. - -_THE PATRON._ - - A borough-bailiff, who to law was train’d, - A wife and sons in decent state maintain’d; - He had his way in life’s rough ocean steer’d, - And many a rock and coast of danger clear’d; - He saw where others fail’d, and care had he - Others in him should not such failings see; - His sons in various busy states were placed, - And all began the sweets of gain to taste, - Save John, the younger; who, of sprightly parts, - Felt not a love for money-making arts. 10 - In childhood feeble, he, for country air, - Had long resided with a rustic pair; - All round whose room were doleful ballads, songs, - Of lovers’ sufferings and of ladies’ wrongs; - Of peevish ghosts who came at dark midnight, - For breach of promise guilty men to fright; - Love, marriage, murder, were the themes, with these, - All that on idle, ardent spirits seize; - Robbers at land and pirates on the main, - Enchanters foil’d, spells broken, giants slain; 20 - Legends of love, with tales of halls and bowers, } - Choice of rare songs, and garlands of choice flowers, } - And all the hungry mind without a choice devours. } - From village-children kept apart by pride, - With such enjoyments, and without a guide, - Inspired by feelings all such works infused, - John snatch’d a pen, and wrote as he perused: - With the like fancy he could make his knight - Slay half an host and put the rest to flight; - With the like knowledge, he could make him ride 30 - From isle to isle at Parthenissa’s side; - And with a heart yet free, no busy brain } - Form’d wilder notions of delight and pain, } - The raptures smiles create, the anguish of disdain. } - Such were the fruits of John’s poetic toil-- - Weeds, but still proofs of vigour in the soil. - He nothing purposed but with vast delight, - Let Fancy loose, and wonder’d at her flight; - His notions of poetic worth were high, - And of his own still-hoarded poetry.-- 40 - These to his father’s house he bore with pride, - A miser’s treasure, in his room to hide; - Till, spurr’d by glory, to a reading friend - He kindly show’d the sonnets he had penn’d. - With erring judgment, though with heart sincere, - That friend exclaim’d, “These beauties must appear.” - In Magazines they claim’d their share of fame, - Though undistinguish’d by their author’s name; - And with delight the young enthusiast found - The muse of ‘Marcus’ with applauses crown’d. 50 - This heard the father, and with some alarm; - “The boy,” said he, “will neither trade nor farm; - He for both law and physic is unfit; - Wit he may have, but cannot live on wit: - Let him his talents then to learning give, - Where verse is honour’d, and where poets live.” - John kept his terms at college unreproved, - Took his degree, and left the life he loved; - Not yet ordain’d, his leisure he employ’d - In the light labours he so much enjoy’d; 60 - His favourite notions and his daring views - Were cherish’d still, and he adored the Muse. - “A little time, and he should burst to light, - And admiration of the world excite; - And every friend, now cool and apt to blame - His fond pursuit, would wonder at his fame.” - When led by fancy, and from view retired, - He call’d before him all his heart desired; - “Fame shall be mine, then wealth shall I possess, - And beauty next an ardent lover bless; 70 - For me the maid shall leave her nobler state, - Happy to raise and share her poet’s fate.” - He saw each day his father’s frugal board - With simple fare by cautious prudence stored; - Where each indulgence was foreweigh’d with care, - And the grand maxims were to save and spare. - Yet in his walks, his closet, and his bed, - All frugal cares and prudent counsels fled; - And bounteous Fancy for his glowing mind - Wrought various scenes, and all of glorious kind; 80 - Slaves of the _ring_ and _lamp_! what need of you, - When Fancy’s self such magic deeds can do? - Though rapt in visions of no vulgar kind, - To common subjects stoop’d our poet’s mind; - And oft, when wearied with more ardent flight, - He felt a spur satiric song to write; - A rival burgess his bold muse attack’d, - And whipp’d severely for a well-known fact; - For, while he seem’d to all demure and shy, - Our poet gazed at what was passing by; 90 - And ev’n his father smiled when playful wit, - From his young bard, some haughty object hit. - From ancient times the borough where they dwelt - Had mighty contest at elections felt. - Sir Godfrey Ball, ’tis true, had held in pay - Electors many for the trying day; - But in such golden chains to bind them all - Required too much for e’en Sir Godfrey Ball. - A member died, and, to supply his place, - Two heroes enter’d for th’ important race; 100 - Sir Godfrey’s friend and Earl Fitzdonnel’s son, - Lord Frederick Damer, both prepared to run; - And partial numbers saw with vast delight - Their good young lord oppose the proud old knight. - Our poet’s father, at a first request, - Gave the young lord his vote and interest, - And, what he could, our poet; for he stung - The foe by verse satiric, said and sung. - Lord Frederick heard of all this youthful zeal, - And felt as lords upon a canvass feel; 110 - He read the satire, and he saw the use } - That such cool insult, and such keen abuse, } - Might on the wavering minds of voting men produce; } - Then, too, his praises were in contrast seen, - “A lord as noble as the knight was mean.” - “I much rejoice,” he cried, “such worth to find; - To this the world must be no longer blind; - His glory will descend from sire to son, - The Burns of English race, the happier Chatterton.” - Our poet’s mind, now hurried and elate, 120 - Alarm’d the anxious parent for his fate; - Who saw with sorrow, should their friend succeed, - That much discretion would the poet need. - Their friend succeeded, and repaid the zeal - The poet felt, and made opposers feel, - By praise (from lords how soothing and how sweet!) - And invitation to his noble seat. - The father ponder’d, doubtful if the brain - Of his proud boy such honour could sustain; - Pleased with the favours offer’d to a son, 130 - But seeing dangers few so ardent shun. - Thus, when they parted, to the youthful breast - The father’s fears were by his love impress’d: - “There you will find, my son, the courteous ease - That must subdue the soul it means to please; - That soft attention which ev’n beauty pays - To wake our passions, or provoke our praise; - There all the eye beholds will give delight, - Where every sense is flatter’d like the sight. - This is your peril; can you from such scene 140 - Of splendour part, and feel your mind serene, - And in the father’s humble state resume - The frugal diet and the narrow room?” - To this the youth with cheerful heart replied, - Pleased with the trial, but as yet untried; - And while professing patience, should he fail, - He suffer’d hope o’er reason to prevail. - Impatient, by the morning mail convey’d, - The happy guest his promised visit paid; - And now, arriving at the hall, he tried 150 - For air composed, serene and satisfied; - As he had practised in his room alone, - And there acquired a free and easy tone. - There he had said, “Whatever the degree - A man obtains, what more than man is he?” - And when arrived--“This room is but a room; - Can aught we see the steady soul o’ercome? - Let me in all a manly firmness show, - Upheld by talents, and their value know.” - This reason urged; but it surpass’d his skill 160 - To be in act as manly as in will: - When he his lordship and the lady saw, - Brave as he was, he felt oppress’d with awe; - And spite of verse, that so much praise had won, - The poet found he was the bailiff’s son. - But dinner came, and the succeeding hours - Fix’d his weak nerves, and raised his failing powers; - Praised and assured, he ventured once or twice - On some remark, and bravely broke the ice; - So that at night, reflecting on his words, 170 - He found in time, he might converse with lords. - Now was the sister of his patron seen-- - A lovely creature, with majestic mien; - Who, softly smiling while she look’d so fair, - Praised the young poet with such friendly air; - Such winning frankness in her looks express’d, - And such attention to her brother’s guest, - That so much beauty, join’d with speech so kind, - Raised strong emotions in the poet’s mind; - Till reason fail’d his bosom to defend 180 - From the sweet power of this enchanting friend.-- - Rash boy! what hope thy frantic mind invades? - What love confuses, and what pride persuades? - Awake to truth! shouldst thou deluded feed - On hopes so groundless, thou art mad indeed. - What say’st thou, wise-one? “that all-powerful love - Can fortune’s strong impediments remove; - Nor is it strange that worth should wed to worth, - The pride of genius with the pride of birth.” - While thou art dreaming thus, the beauty spies 190 - Love in thy tremor, passion in thine eyes; - And, with th’ amusement pleased, of conquest vain, - She seeks her pleasure, careless of thy pain; - She gives thee praise to humble and confound, - Smiles to ensnare, and flatters thee to wound. - Why has she said that in the lowest state - The noble mind insures a noble fate? - And why thy daring mind to glory call? - That thou may’st dare and suffer, soar and fall. - Beauties are tyrants, and if they can reign, 200 - They have no feeling for their subject’s pain; - Their victim’s anguish gives their charms applause, - And their chief glory is the woe they cause. - Something of this was felt, in spite of love, - Which hope, in spite of reason, would remove. - Thus lived our youth, with conversation, books, - And Lady Emma’s soul-subduing looks; - Lost in delight, astonish’d at his lot, } - All prudence banish’d, all advice forgot-- } - Hopes, fears, and every thought, were fix’d upon the spot.} 210 - ’Twas autumn yet, and many a day must frown - On Brandon-Hall, ere went my lord to town; - Meantime the father, who had heard his boy - Lived in a round of luxury and joy, - And, justly thinking that the youth was one - Who, meeting danger, was unskill’d to shun; - Knowing his temper, virtue, spirit, zeal, - How prone to hope and trust, believe and feel: - These on the parent’s soul their weight impress’d, - And thus he wrote the counsels of his breast. 220 - “John, thou’rt a genius; thou hast some pretence, - I think, to wit, but hast thou sterling sense? - That which, like gold, may through the world go forth, - And always pass for what ’tis truly worth? - Whereas this genius, like a bill, must take - Only the value our opinions make. - “Men famed for wit, of dangerous talents vain, - Treat those of common parts with proud disdain; - The powers that wisdom would, improving, hide, - They blaze abroad with inconsid’rate pride; 230 - While yet but mere probationers for fame, - They seize the honour they should then disclaim: - Honour so hurried to the light must fade; - The lasting laurels flourish in the shade. - “Genius is jealous; I have heard of some - Who, if unnoticed, grew perversely dumb; - Nay, different talents would their envy raise; - Poets have sicken’d at a dancer’s praise; - And one, the happiest writer of his time, - Grew pale at hearing Reynolds was sublime; 240 - That Rutland’s duchess wore a heavenly smile-- - And I, said he, neglected all the while! - “A waspish tribe are these, on gilded wings, - Humming their lays, and brandishing their stings; - And thus they move their friends and foes among, - Prepared for soothing or satiric song. - “Hear me, my boy; thou hast a virtuous mind-- - But be thy virtues of the sober kind; - Be not a Quixote, ever up in arms - To give the guilty and the great alarms: 250 - If never heeded, thy attack is vain; - And if they heed thee, they’ll attack again; - Then, too, in striking at that heedless rate, - Thou in an instant may’st decide thy fate. - “Leave admonition--let the vicar give - Rules how the nobles of his flock should live; - Nor take that simple fancy to thy brain, - That thou canst cure the wicked and the vain. - “Our Pope, they say, once entertain’d the whim, - Who fear’d not God should be afraid of him; 260 - But grant they fear’d him, was it further said, - That he reform’d the hearts he made afraid? - Did Chartres mend? Ward, Waters, and a score - Of flagrant felons, with his floggings sore? - Was Cibber silenced? No; with vigour bless’d, - And brazen front, half earnest, half in jest, - He dared the bard to battle, and was seen - In all his glory match’d with Pope and spleen; - Himself he stripp’d, the harder blow to hit, - Then boldly match’d his ribaldry with wit; 270 - The poet’s conquest Truth and Time proclaim, - But yet the battle hurt his peace and fame. - “Strive not too much for favour; seem at ease, - And rather pleased thyself, than bent to please: - Upon thy lord with decent care attend, - But not too near; thou canst not be a friend; - And favourite be not, ’tis a dangerous post-- - Is gain’d by labour, and by fortune lost. - Talents like thine may make a man approved, - But other talents trusted and beloved. 280 - Look round, my son, and thou wilt early see - The kind of man thou art not form’d to be. - “The real favourites of the great are they - Who to their views and wants attention pay, - And pay it ever; who, with all their skill, - Dive to the heart, and learn the secret will; - If that be vicious, soon can they provide - The favourite ill, and o’er the soul preside; - For vice is weakness, and the artful know - Their power increases as the passions grow; 290 - If indolent the pupil, hard their task; - Such minds will ever for amusement ask; - And great the labour for a man to choose - Objects for one whom nothing can amuse! - For ere those objects can the soul delight, - They must to joy the soul herself excite; - Therefore it is, this patient, watchful kind - With gentle friction stir the drowsy mind; - Fix’d on their end, with caution they proceed, - And sometimes give, and sometimes take the lead; 300 - Will now a hint convey, and then retire, - And let the spark awake the lingering fire; - Or seek new joys and livelier pleasures bring, - To give the jaded sense a quick’ning spring. - “These arts, indeed, my son must not pursue; - Nor must he quarrel with the tribe that do: - It is not safe another’s crimes to know, - Nor is it wise our proper worth to show.-- - ‘My lord,’ you say, ‘engaged me for that worth;’-- - True, and preserve it ready to come forth: 310 - If question’d, fairly answer--and, that done, - Shrink back, be silent, and thy father’s son; - For they who doubt thy talents scorn thy boast, - But they who grant them will dislike thee most. - Observe the prudent; they in silence sit, - Display no learning, and affect no wit; - They hazard nothing, nothing they assume, - But know the useful art of _acting dumb_. - Yet to their eyes each varying look appears, - And every word finds entrance at their ears. 320 - “Thou art religion’s advocate--take heed, - Hurt not the cause thy pleasure ’tis to plead; - With wine before thee, and with wits beside, - Do not in strength of reas’ning powers confide; - What seems to thee convincing, certain, plain, - They will deny, and dare thee to maintain; - And thus will triumph o’er thy eager youth, - While thou wilt grieve for so disgracing truth. - “With pain I’ve seen, these wrangling wits among, - Faith’s weak defenders, passionate and young; 330 - Weak thou art not, yet not enough on guard, - Where wit and humour keep their watch and ward: - Men gay and noisy will o’erwhelm thy sense, - Then loudly laugh at Truth’s and thy expense; - While the kind ladies will do all they can - To check their mirth, and cry, ‘_The good young man_!’ - “Prudence, my boy, forbids thee to commend - The cause or party of thy noble friend; - What are his praises worth, who must be known - To take a patron’s maxims for his own? 340 - When ladies sing, or in thy presence play, - Do not, dear John, in rapture melt away; - ’Tis not thy part, there will be list’ners round, - To cry ‘_divine_!’ and dote upon the sound; - Remember too, that though the poor have ears, - They take not in the music of the spheres; - They must not feel the warble and the thrill, - Or be dissolved in ecstacy at will; - Beside, ’tis freedom in a youth like thee - To drop his awe, and deal in ecstacy! 350 - “In silent ease, at least in silence, dine, - Nor one opinion start of food or wine: - Thou know’st that all the science thou canst boast - Is of thy father’s simple boil’d and roast; - Nor always these; he sometimes saved his cash, - By interlinear days of frugal hash. - Wine hadst thou seldom; wilt thou be so vain - As to decide on claret or champagne? - Dost thou from me derive this taste sublime, - Who order port the dozen at a time; 360 - When (every glass held precious in our eyes) - We judged the value by the bottle’s size? - Then, never merit for thy praise assume, - Its worth well knows each servant in the room. - “Hard, boy, thy task, to steer thy way among - That servile, supple, shrewd, insidious throng; - Who look upon thee as of doubtful race, - An interloper, one who wants a place: - Freedom with these let thy free soul condemn, - Nor with thy heart’s concerns associate them. 370 - “Of all be cautious--but be most afraid - Of the pale charms that grace my lady’s maid; - Of those sweet dimples, of that fraudful eye, } - The frequent glance, design’d for thee to spy; } - The soft bewitching look, the fond bewailing sigh. } - Let others frown and envy; she the while - (Insidious syren!) will demurely smile; - And, for her gentle purpose, every day - Inquire thy wants, and meet thee in thy way; - She has her blandishments, and, though so weak, 380 - Her person pleases, and her actions speak. - At first her folly may her aim defeat; - But kindness shown at length will kindness meet. - Have some offended? them will she disdain, - And, for thy sake, contempt and pity feign; - She hates the vulgar, she admires to look - On woods and groves, and dotes upon a book; - Let her once see thee on her features dwell, - And hear one sigh--then, liberty, farewell. - “But, John, remember, we cannot maintain 390 - A poor, proud girl, extravagant and vain. - “Doubt much of friendship: shouldst thou find a friend - Pleased to advise thee, anxious to commend; - Should he the praises he has heard report, - And confidence (in thee confiding) court; - Much of neglectful patrons should he say, - And then exclaim--‘How long must merit stay;’ - Then show how high thy modest hopes may stretch, - And point to stations far beyond thy reach: - Let such designer, by thy conduct, see 400 - (Civil and cool) he makes no dupe of thee; - And he will quit thee, as a man too wise - For him to ruin first, and then despise. - “Such are thy dangers;--yet, if thou canst steer - Past all the perils, all the quicksands clear, - Then may’st thou profit; but if storms prevail, - If foes beset thee, if thy spirits fail-- - No more of winds or waters be the sport, - But in thy father’s mansion find a port.” - Our poet read.--“It is, in truth,” said he, 410 - “Correct in part, but what is _this_ to me? - I love a foolish Abigail! in base - And sordid office! fear not such disgrace: - Am I so blind?”--“Or thou wouldst surely see - That lady’s fall, if she should stoop to thee.”-- - “The cases differ.”--“True! for what surprise - Could from thy marriage with the maid arise? - But through the island would the shame be spread, - Should the fair mistress deign with thee to wed.” - John saw not this; and many a week had pass’d, 420 - While the vain beauty held her victim fast; - The noble friend still condescension show’d, - And, as before, with praises overflow’d; - But his grave lady took a silent view - Of all that pass’d, and, smiling, pitied too. - Cold grew the foggy morn; the day was brief; - Loose on the cherry hung the crimson leaf; - The dew dwelt ever on the herb; the woods - Roar’d with strong blasts, with mighty showers the floods; - All green was vanish’d, save of pine and yew, 430 - That still display’d their melancholy hue; - Save the green holly with its berries red, - And the green moss that o’er the gravel spread. - To public views my lord must soon attend; - And soon the ladies--would they leave their friend? - The time was fix’d--approach’d--was near--was come, - The trying time that fill’d his soul with gloom. - Thoughtful our poet in the morning rose, - And cried, “One hour my fortune will disclose; - Terrific hour! from thee have I to date 440 - Life’s loftier views, or my degraded state; - For now to be what I have been before - Is so to fall, that I can rise no more.” - The morning meal was past, and all around - The mansion rang with each discordant sound; - Haste was in every foot, and every look - The trav’ller’s joy for London-journey spoke. - Not so our youth; whose feelings, at the noise - Of preparation, had no touch of joys; - He pensive stood, and saw each carriage drawn, 450 - With lackeys mounted, ready on the lawn. - The ladies came; and John in terror threw - One painful glance, and then his eyes withdrew; - Not with such speed, but he in other eyes - With anguish read--“I pity but despise-- - Unhappy boy! presumptuous scribbler!--you - To dream such dreams!--be sober, and adieu!” - Then came the noble friend--“And will my lord - Vouchsafe no comfort? drop no soothing word? - Yes, he must speak:” he speaks, “My good young friend,-- - You know my views; upon my care depend; 461 - My hearty thanks to your good father pay, - And be a student.--Harry, drive away.” - Stillness reign’d all around; of late so full, - The busy scene deserted now and dull. - Stern is his nature who forbears to feel - Gloom o’er his spirits on such trials steal; - Most keenly felt our poet as he went - From room to room without a fix’d intent; - “And here,” he thought, “I was caress’d; admired 470 - Were here my songs; she smiled, and I aspired: - The change how grievous!” As he mused, a dame - Busy and peevish to her duties came; - Aside the tables and the chairs she drew, - And sang and mutter’d in the poet’s view:-- - “This was her fortune; here they leave the poor; - Enjoy themselves, and think of us no more; - I had a promise--” here his pride and shame - Urged him to fly from this familiar dame; - He gave one farewell look, and by a coach 480 - Reach’d his own mansion at the night’s approach. - His father met him with an anxious air, - Heard his sad tale, and check’d what seem’d despair; - Hope was in him corrected, but alive; - My lord would something for a friend contrive; - His word was pledged; our hero’s feverish mind - Admitted this, and half his grief resign’d. - But when three months had fled, and every day - Drew from the sickening hopes their strength away, - The youth became abstracted, pensive, dull; 490 - He utter’d nothing, though his heart was full. - Teased by inquiring words and anxious looks, - And all forgetful of his muse and books, - Awake he mourn’d, but in his sleep perceived - A lovely vision that his pain relieved; - His soul transported, hail’d the happy seat, - Where once his pleasure was so pure and sweet; - Where joys departed came in blissful view, - Till reason wak’d, and not a joy he knew. - Questions now vex’d his spirit, most from those 500 - Who are called friends, because they are not foes. - “John!” they would say; he, starting, turn’d around; - “John!” there was something shocking in the sound; - Ill brook’d he then the pert familiar phrase, - The untaught freedom, and th’ inquiring gaze; - Much was his temper touch’d, his spleen provoked, - When ask’d how ladies talk’d, or walk’d, or look’d? - What said my lord of politics? how spent - He there his time? and was he glad he went?” - At length a letter came, both cool and brief, 510 - But still it gave the burthen’d heart relief: - Though not inspired by lofty hopes, the youth - Placed much reliance on Lord Frederick’s truth; - Summon’d to town, he thought the visit one - Where something fair and friendly would be done; - Although he judged not, as before his fall, - When all was love and promise at the hall. - Arrived in town, he early sought to know - The fate such dubious friendship would bestow; - At a tall building, trembling, he appear’d, 520 - And his low rap was indistinctly heard; - A well-known servant came--“A while,” said he, - “Be pleased to wait; my lord has company.” - Alone our hero sate; the news in hand, - Which, though he read, he could not understand. - Cold was the day; in days so cold as these - There needs a fire, where minds and bodies freeze; - The vast and echoing room, the polish’d grate, - The crimson chairs, the sideboard with its plate; - The splendid sofa, which, though made for rest, 530 - He then had thought it freedom to have press’d; - The shining tables, curiously inlaid, - Were all in comfortless proud style display’d; - And to the troubled feelings terror gave, - That made the once-dear friend the sick’ning slave. - “Was he forgotten?” Thrice upon his ear - Struck the loud clock, yet no relief was near; - Each rattling carriage, and each thundering stroke - On the loud door, the dream of fancy broke; - Oft as a servant chanced the way to come, 540 - “Brings he a message?” no! he pass’d the room. - At length ’tis certain; “Sir you will attend - At twelve on Thursday!” Thus the day had end. - Vex’d by these tedious hours of needless pain, - John left the noble mansion with disdain; - For there was something in that still, cold place, - That seem’d to threaten and portend disgrace. - Punctual again the modest rap declared - The youth attended; then was all prepared: - For the same servant, by his lord’s command, 550 - A paper offer’d to his trembling hand. - “No more!” he cried; “disdains he to afford - One kind expression, one consoling word?” - With troubled spirit he began to read - That “In the church my lord could not succeed;” - Who had “to peers of either kind applied, - And was with dignity and grace denied; - While his own livings were by men possess’d, - Not likely in their chancels yet to rest; - And therefore, all things weigh’d (as he, my lord, 560 - Had done maturely, and he pledged his word), - Wisdom it seem’d for John to turn his view - To busier scenes, and bid the church adieu!” - Here grieved the youth; he felt his father’s pride - Must with his own be shock’d and mortified; - But when he found his future comforts placed - Where he, alas! conceived himself disgraced-- - In some appointment on the London quays, - He bade farewell to honour and to ease; - His spirit fell; and, from that hour assured 570 - How vain his dreams, he suffer’d and was cured. - Our poet hurried on, with wish to fly - From all mankind, to be conceal’d, and die. - Alas! what hopes, what high romantic views } - Did that one visit to the soul infuse, } - Which cherish’d with such love, ’twas worse than death to lose! } - Still he would strive, though painful was the strife, - To walk in this appointed road of life; - On these low duties duteous he would wait, - And patient bear the anguish of his fate. 580 - Thanks to the patron, but of coldest kind, - Express’d the sadness of the poet’s mind; - Whose heavy hours were pass’d with busy men, - In the dull practice of th’ official pen; - Who to superiors must in time impart - (The custom this) his progress in their art. - But so had grief on his perception wrought, - That all unheeded were the duties taught; - No answers gave he when his trial came, - Silent he stood, but suffering without shame; 590 - And they observed that words severe or kind - Made no impression on his wounded mind; - For all perceived from whence his failure rose-- - Some grief whose cause he deign’d not to disclose. - A soul averse from scenes and works so new; - Fear, ever shrinking from the vulgar crew; - Distaste for each mechanic law and rule, - Thoughts of past honour and a patron cool; - A grieving parent, and a feeling mind, - Timid and ardent, tender and refined: 600 - These all with mighty force the youth assail’d, - Till his soul fainted, and his reason fail’d. - When this was known, and some debate arose - How they who saw it should the fact disclose, - He found their purpose, and in terror fled - From unseen kindness, with mistaken dread. - Meantime the parent was distress’d to find - His son no longer for a priest design’d; - But still he gain’d some comfort by the news - Of John’s promotion, though with humbler views; 610 - For he conceived that in no distant time - The boy would learn to scramble and to climb. - He little thought a son, his hope and pride, - His favour’d boy, was now a home denied: - Yes! while the parent was intent to trace - How men in office climb from place to place, - By day, by night, o’er moor and heath and hill, } - Roved the sad youth, with ever-changing will, } - Of every aid bereft, exposed to every ill. } - Thus as he sate, absorb’d in all the care 620 - And all the hope that anxious fathers share, - A friend abruptly to his presence brought, - With trembling hand, the subject of his thought, - Whom he had found afflicted and subdued - By hunger, sorrow, cold, and solitude. - Silent he enter’d the forgotten room - As ghostly forms may be conceived to come; - With sorrow-shrunken face and hair upright, - He look’d dismay, neglect, despair, affright; - But, dead to comfort, and on misery thrown, 630 - His parent’s loss he felt not, nor his own. - The good man, struck with horror, cried aloud, - And drew around him an astonish’d crowd; - The sons and servants to the father ran, - To share the feelings of the grieved old man. - “Our brother, speak!” they all exclaim’d; “explain - Thy grief, thy suffering;”--but they ask’d in vain: - The friend told all he knew; and all was known, - Save the sad causes whence the ills had grown. - But, if obscure the cause, they all agreed 640 - From rest and kindness must the cure proceed: - And he was cured; for quiet, love, and care, - Strove with the gloom, and broke on the despair. - Yet slow their progress; and, as vapours move - Dense and reluctant from the wintry grove; - All is confusion till the morning light - Gives the dim scene obscurely to the sight; - More and yet more defined the trunks appear, - Till the wild prospect stands distinct and clear-- - So the dark mind of our young poet grew 650 - Clear and sedate; the dreadful mist withdrew; - And he resembled that bleak wintry scene, - Sad, though unclouded; dismal, though serene. - At times he utter’d, “What a dream was mine! - And what a prospect! glorious and divine! - Oh! in that room, and on that night, to see - These looks, that sweetness beaming all on me; - That syren-flattery--and to send me then, - Hope-raised and soften’d, to those heartless men; - That dark-brow’d stern director, pleased to show 660 - Knowledge of subjects I disdain’d to know; - Cold and controlling--but ’tis gone, ’tis past; - I had my trial, and have peace at last.” - Now grew the youth resign’d; he bade adieu - To all that hope, to all that fancy drew; - His frame was languid, and the hectic heat - Flush’d on his pallid face, and countless beat - The quick’ning pulse, and faint the limbs that bore - The slender form that soon would breathe no more. - Then hope of holy kind the soul sustain’d, 670 - And not a lingering thought of earth remain’d; - Now Heaven had all, and he could smile at love, - And the wild sallies of his youth reprove; - Then could he dwell upon the tempting days, - The proud aspiring thought, the partial praise; - Victorious now, his worldly views were closed, - And on the bed of death the youth reposed. - The father grieved--but, as the poet’s heart - Was all unfitted for his earthly part; - As, he conceived, some other haughty fair 680 - Would, had he lived, have led him to despair; - As, with this fear, the silent grave shut out - All feverish hope, and all tormenting doubt; - While the strong faith the pious youth possess’d, - His hope enlivening, gave his sorrows rest: - Soothed by these thoughts, he felt a mournful joy - For his aspiring and devoted boy. - Meantime the news through various channels spread: - The youth, once favour’d with such praise, was dead. - “Emma,” the lady cried, “my words attend, 690 - Your syren-smiles have kill’d your humble friend; - The hope you raised can now delude no more, - Nor charms, that once inspired, can now restore.” - Faint was the flush of anger and of shame, - That o’er the cheek of conscious beauty came. - “You censure not,” said she, “the sun’s bright rays, - When fools imprudent dare the dangerous gaze; - And, should a stripling look till he were blind, - You would not justly call the light unkind.-- - But is he dead? and am I to suppose 700 - The power of poison in such looks as those?” - She spoke, and, pointing to the mirror, cast - A pleased gay glance, and curtsied as she pass’d. - My lord, to whom the poet’s fate was told, - Was much affected, for a man so cold. - “Dead!” said his lordship, “run distracted, mad! - Upon my soul I’m sorry for the lad; - And now, no doubt, th’ obliging world will say - That my harsh usage help’d him on his way. - What! I suppose, I should have nursed his muse, 710 - And with champagne have brighten’d up his views: - Then had he made me famed my whole life long, - And stunn’d my ears with gratitude and song. - Still, should the father hear that I regret - Our joint misfortune--Yes! I’ll not forget.”-- - Thus they.--The father to his grave convey’d - The son he loved, and his last duties paid. - “There lies my boy,” he cried, “of care bereft, - And, Heav’n be praised, I’ve not a genius left: - No one among ye, sons! is doom’d to live 720 - On high-raised hopes of what the great may give; - None, with exalted views and fortunes mean, - To die in anguish, or to live in spleen. - Your pious brother soon escaped the strife - Of such contention, but it cost his life; - You then, my sons, upon yourselves depend, - And in your own exertions find the friend.” - - - - -TALE VI. - -_THE FRANK COURTSHIP._ - - -Yes, faith; it is my cousin’s duty to make curtsy, and say, “Father, -as it please you;” but [yet] for all that, cousin, let him be a -handsome fellow, or else make another curtsy, and say, “Father, as it -pleases me.” - _Much Ado about Nothing,_ Act II. Scene 1. - - He cannot flatter, he! - An honest mind and plain--he must speak truth. - _King Lear_, Act II. Scene 2. - - God hath given you one face, and you make yourselves another; - you jig, you amble, [and you lisp, and] nick-name God’s creatures, - and make your wantonness your ignorance. - _Hamlet_, Act III. Scene 1. - - What fire is in mine ears? Can this be true? - [Stand I condemn’d] for pride and scorn so much? - _Much Ado about Nothing_, Act III. Scene 1. - - - - -TALE VI. - -_THE FRANK COURTSHIP._ - - - Grave Jonas Kindred, Sybil Kindred’s sire, - Was six feet high, and look’d six inches higher; - Erect, morose, determined, solemn, slow, - Who knew the man, could never cease to know; - His faithful spouse, when Jonas was not by, - Had a firm presence and a steady eye; - But with her husband dropp’d her look and tone, - And Jonas ruled unquestion’d and alone. - He read, and oft would quote the sacred words, - How pious husbands of their wives were lords; 10 - Sarah called Abraham lord! and who could be, - So Jonas thought, a greater man than he? - Himself he view’d with undisguised respect, - And never pardon’d freedom or neglect. - They had one daughter, and this favourite child - Had oft the father of his spleen beguiled; - Soothed by attention from her early years, - She gain’d all wishes by her smiles or tears: - But Sybil then was in that playful time, - When contradiction is not held a crime; 20 - When parents yield their children idle praise - For faults corrected in their after days. - Peace in the sober house of Jonas dwelt, - Where each his duty and his station felt: - Yet not that peace some favour’d mortals find, - In equal views and harmony of mind; - Not the soft peace that blesses those who love, - Where all with one consent in union move; - But it was that which one superior will - Commands, by making all inferiors still; 30 - Who bids all murmurs, all objections cease, - And with imperious voice announces--Peace! - They were, to wit, a remnant of that crew, - Who, as their foes maintain, their sovereign slew: - An independent race, precise, correct, - Who ever married in the kindred sect. - No son or daughter of their order wed - A friend to England’s king who lost his head; - Cromwell was still their saint, and, when they met, - They mourn’d that saints[4] were not our rulers yet. 40 - Fix’d were their habits; they arose betimes, - Then pray’d their hour, and sang their party-rhymes: - Their meals were plenteous, regular, and plain; - The trade of Jonas brought him constant gain; - Vender of hops and malt, of coals and corn-- - And, like his father, he was merchant born. - Neat was their house; each table, chair, and stool, - Stood in its place, or moving moved by rule; - No lively print or picture graced the room; - A plain brown paper lent its decent gloom; 50 - But here the eye, in glancing round, survey’d - A small recess that seem’d for china made; - Such pleasing pictures seem’d this pencill’d ware, - That few would search for nobler objects there-- - Yet, turn’d by chosen friends, and there appear’d - His stern, strong features, whom they all revered; - For there in lofty air was seen to stand - The bold protector of the conquer’d land; - Drawn in that look with which he wept and swore, - Turn’d out the members, and made fast the door, 60 - Ridding the house of every knave and drone; - Forced, though it grieved his soul, to rule alone. - The stern, still smile each friend, approving, gave; - Then turn’d the view, and all again were grave. - -[4] This appellation is here used not ironically, nor with malignity; -but it is taken merely to designate a morosely devout people, with -peculiar austerity of manners. - - There stood a clock, though small the owner’s need-- - For habit told when all things should proceed. - Few their amusements, but, when friends appear’d, - They with the world’s distress their spirits cheer’d; - The nation’s guilt, that would not long endure - The reign of men so modest and so pure. 70 - Their town was large, and seldom pass’d a day - But some had fail’d, and others gone astray; - Clerks had absconded, wives eloped, girls flown - To Gretna-Green, or sons rebellious grown; - Quarrels and fires arose;--and it was plain - The times were bad; the saints had ceased to reign! - A few yet lived to languish and to mourn - For good old manners, never to return. - Jonas had sisters, and of these was one - Who lost a husband and an only son: 80 - Twelve months her sables she in sorrow wore, - And mourn’d so long that she could mourn no more. - Distant from Jonas, and from all her race, - She now resided in a lively place; - There, by the sect unseen, at whist she play’d, - Nor was of churchmen or their church afraid. - If much of this the graver brother heard, - He something censured, but he little fear’d; - He knew her rich and frugal; for the rest, - He felt no care, or, if he felt, suppress’d; 90 - Nor, for companion when she ask’d her niece, - Had he suspicions that disturbed his peace; - Frugal and rich, these virtues as a charm - Preserved the thoughtful man from all alarm; - An infant yet, she soon would home return, - Nor stay the manners of the world to learn; - Meantime his boys would all his care engross, - And be his comforts if he felt the loss. - The sprightly Sybil, pleased and unconfined, - Felt the pure pleasure of the op’ning mind: 100 - All here was gay and cheerful--all at home - Unvaried quiet and unruffled gloom. - There were no changes, and amusements few; - Here, all was varied, wonderful, and new; - There were plain meals, plain dresses, and grave looks-- - Here, gay companions and amusing books; - And the young beauty soon began to taste - The light vocations of the scene she graced. - A man of business feels it as a crime - On calls domestic to consume his time; 110 - Yet this grave man had not so cold a heart, - But with his daughter he was grieved to part; - And he demanded that in every year - The aunt and niece should at his house appear. - “Yes! we must go, my child, and by our dress - A grave conformity of mind express; - Must sing at meeting, and from cards refrain, - The more t’ enjoy when we return again.” - Thus spake the aunt, and the discerning child - Was pleased to learn how fathers are beguiled. 120 - Her artful part the young dissembler took, - And from the matron caught th’ approving look. - When thrice the friends had met, excuse was sent - For more delay, and Jonas was content; - Till a tall maiden by her sire was seen, - In all the bloom and beauty of sixteen; - He gazed admiring;--she, with visage prim, - Glanced an arch look of gravity on him; - For she was gay at heart, but wore disguise, - And stood a vestal in her father’s eyes-- 130 - Pure, pensive, simple, sad; the damsel’s heart, - When Jonas praised, reproved her for the part; - For Sybil, fond of pleasure, gay and light, - Had still a secret bias to the right; - Vain as she was--and flattery made her vain-- - Her simulation gave her bosom pain. - Again return’d, the matron and the niece - Found the late quiet gave their joy increase; - The aunt, infirm, no more her visits paid, - But still with her sojourn’d the favourite maid. 140 - Letters were sent when franks could be procured; - And, when they could not, silence was endured. - All were in health, and, if they older grew, - It seem’d a fact that none among them knew; - The aunt and niece still led a pleasant life, - And quiet days had Jonas and his wife. - Near him a widow dwelt of worthy fame: - Like his her manners, and her creed the same. - The wealth her husband left her care retain’d - For one tall youth, and widow she remained; 150 - His love respectful all her care repaid, - Her wishes watch’d, and her commands obey’d. - Sober he was and grave from early youth, - Mindful of forms, but more intent on truth; - In a light drab he uniformly dress’d, - And look serene th’ unruffled mind express’d; - A hat with ample verge his brows o’erspread, - And his brown locks curl’d graceful on his head; - Yet might observers in his speaking eye } - Some observation, some acuteness spy; } 160 - The friendly thought it keen, the treacherous deem’d } - it sly. } - Yet not a crime could foe or friend detect; - His actions all were, like his speech, correct; - And they who jested on a mind so sound, - Upon his virtues must their laughter found: - ‘Chaste, sober, solemn,’ and ‘devout’ they named - Him who was thus, and not of _this_ ashamed. - Such were the virtues Jonas found in one - In whom he warmly wish’d to find a son. - Three years had pass’d since he had Sybil seen; 170 - But she was doubtless what she once had been-- - Lovely and mild, obedient and discreet: - The pair must love whenever they should meet; - Then, ere the widow or her son should choose - Some happier maid, he would explain his views. - Now she, like him, was politic and shrewd, - With strong desire of lawful gain embued; - To all he said, she bow’d with much respect, - Pleased to comply, yet seeming to reject; - Cool, and yet eager, each admired the strength 180 - Of the opponent, and agreed at length. - As a drawn battle shows to each a force, - Powerful as his, he honours it of course: - So in these neighbours, each the power discern’d, - And gave the praise that was to each return’d. - Jonas now ask’d his daughter; and the aunt, - Though loth to lose her, was obliged to grant.-- - But would not Sybil to the matron cling, - And fear to leave the shelter of her wing? - No! in the young there lives a love of change, 190 - And to the easy they prefer the strange! - Then too the joys she once pursued with zeal, - From whist and visits sprung, she ceased to feel; - When with the matrons Sybil first sat down, - To cut for partners and to stake her crown, - This to the youthful maid preferment seem’d, - Who thought [that] woman she was then esteem’d; - But in few years, when she perceived, indeed, - The real woman to the girl succeed, - No longer tricks and honours fill’d her mind, 200 - But other feelings, not so well defined. - She then reluctant grew, and thought it hard, - To sit and ponder o’er an ugly card; - Rather the nut-tree shade the nymph preferr’d, - Pleased with the pensive gloom and evening bird; - Thither, from company retired, she took - The silent walk, or read the fav’rite book. - The father’s letter, sudden, short, and kind, - Awaked her wonder, and disturb’d her mind; - She found new dreams upon her fancy seize, 210 - Wild roving thoughts and endless reveries. - The parting came;--and, when the aunt perceived - The tears of Sybil, and how much she grieved, - To love for her that tender grief she laid, - That various, soft, contending passions made. - When Sybil rested in her father’s arms, - His pride exulted in a daughter’s charms; - A maid accomplish’d he was pleased to find, - Nor seem’d the form more lovely than the mind. - But when the fit of pride and fondness fled, 220 - He saw his judgment by his hopes misled; - High were the lady’s spirits, far more free - Her mode of speaking than a maid’s should be; - Too much, as Jonas thought, she seem’d to know, - And all her knowledge was disposed to show: - “Too gay her dress, like theirs who idly dote - On a young coxcomb, or a coxcomb’s coat; - In foolish spirits when our friends appear, - And vainly grave when not a man is near.” - Thus Jonas, adding to his sorrow blame, 230 - And terms disdainful to his sister’s name:-- - “The sinful wretch has by her arts defiled - The ductile spirit of my darling child.” - “The maid is virtuous,” said the dame.--Quoth he, - “Let her give proof, by acting virtuously: - Is it in gaping when the elders pray? - In reading nonsense half a summer’s day? - In those mock forms that she delights to trace, - Or her loud laughs in Hezekiah’s face? - She--O Susannah!--to the world belongs; } 240 - She loves the follies of its idle throngs, } - And reads soft tales of love, and sings love’s } - soft’ning songs. } - But, as our friend is yet delay’d in town, - We must prepare her till the youth comes down; - You shall advise the maiden; I will threat; - Her fears and hopes may yield us comfort yet.” - Now the grave father took the lass aside, - Demanding sternly, “Wilt thou be a bride?” - She answer’d, calling up an air sedate, - “I have not vow’d against the holy state.” 250 - “No folly, Sybil,” said the parent; “know - What to their parents virtuous maidens owe: - A worthy, wealthy youth, whom I approve, - Must thou prepare to honour and to love. - Formal to thee his air and dress may seem, - But the good youth is worthy of esteem; - Shouldst thou with rudeness treat him, of disdain - Should he with justice or of slight complain, - Or of one taunting speech give certain proof: - Girl! I reject thee from my sober roof.” 260 - “My aunt,” said Sybil, “will with pride protect - One whom a father can for this reject; - Nor shall a formal, rigid, soul-less boy - My manners alter, or my views destroy!” - Jonas [then] lifted up his hands on high, } - And, utt’ring something ’twixt a groan and sigh, } - Left the determined maid her doubtful mother by. } - “Hear me,” she said; “incline thy heart, my child, - And fix thy fancy on a man so mild; - Thy father, Sybil, never could be moved 270 - By one who loved him, or by one he loved. - Union like ours is but a bargain made - By slave and tyrant--he will be obey’d, - Then calls the quiet comfort;--but thy youth - Is mild by nature, and as frank as truth.” - “But will he love?” said Sybil; “I am told - That these mild creatures are by nature cold.” - “Alas!” the matron answer’d, “much I dread - That dangerous love by which the young are led! - That love is earthy; you the creature prize, 280 - And trust your feelings and believe your eyes: - Can eyes and feelings inward worth descry? - No! my fair daughter, on our choice rely! - Your love, like that display’d upon the stage, - Indulged is folly, and opposed is rage;-- - More prudent love our sober couples show, - All that to mortal beings mortals owe. - All flesh is grass--before you give a heart, - Remember, Sybil, that in death you part; - And, should your husband die before your love, 290 - What needless anguish must a widow prove! - No! my fair child, let all such visions cease; - Yield but esteem, and only try for peace.” - “I must be loved,” said Sybil; “I must see - The man in terrors who aspires to me; - At my forbidding frown his heart must ache, - His tongue must falter, and his frame must shake; - And, if I grant him at my feet to kneel, - What trembling, fearful pleasure must he feel; - Nay, such the raptures that my smiles inspire, 300 - That reason’s self must for a time retire.” - “Alas! for good Josiah,” said the dame, - “These wicked thoughts would fill his soul with shame. - He kneel and tremble at a thing of dust! - He cannot, child.”--The child replied, “He must.” - They ceased; the matron left her with a frown; - So Jonas met her when the youth came down. - “Behold,” said he, “thy future spouse attends; - Receive him, daughter, as the best of friends; - Observe, respect him--humble be each word, 310 - That welcomes home thy husband and thy lord.” - Forewarn’d, thought Sybil, with a bitter smile, - I shall prepare my manner and my style. - Ere yet Josiah enter’d on his task, - The father met him:--“Deign to wear a mask - A few dull days, Josiah--but a few-- - It is our duty, and the sex’s due; - I wore it once, and every grateful wife - Repays it with obedience through her life: - Have no regard to Sybil’s dress, have none } 320 - To her pert language, to her flippant tone: } - Henceforward thou shalt rule unquestion’d and alone; } - And she thy pleasure in thy looks shall seek-- - How she shall dress, and whether she may speak.” - A sober smile return’d the youth, and said, - “Can I cause fear, who am myself afraid?” - Sybil, meantime, sat thoughtful in her room, - And often wonder’d--“Will the creature come? - Nothing shall tempt, shall force me to bestow - My hand upon him--yet I wish to know.” 330 - The door unclosed, and she beheld her sire - Lead in the youth, then hasten to retire. - “Daughter, my friend--my daughter, friend,” he cried, - And gave a meaning look, and stepp’d aside; - That look contain’d a mingled threat and prayer, - “Do take him, child--offend him, if you dare.” - The couple gazed--were silent; and the maid - Look’d in his face, to make the man afraid; - The man, unmoved, upon the maiden cast - A steady view--so salutation pass’d; 340 - But in this instant Sybil’s eye had seen - The tall fair person, and the still staid mien; - The glow that temp’rance o’er the cheek had spread, - Where the soft down half veil’d the purest red; - And the serene deportment that proclaim’d - A heart unspotted, and a life unblamed. - But then with these she saw attire too plain, - The pale brown coat, though worn without a stain; - The formal air, and something of the pride - That indicates the wealth it seems to hide; 350 - And looks that were not, she conceived, exempt - From a proud pity, or a sly contempt. - Josiah’s eyes had their employment too, - Engaged and soften’d by so bright a view: - A fair and meaning face, an eye of fire, - That check’d the bold, and made the free retire. - But then with these he mark’d the studied dress - And lofty air, that scorn or pride express; - With that insidious look, that seem’d to hide - In an affected smile the scorn and pride; 360 - And if his mind the virgin’s meaning caught, } - He saw a foe with treacherous purpose fraught-- } - Captive the heart to take, and to reject it caught. } - Silent they sate--thought Sybil, that he seeks - Something, no doubt; I wonder if he speaks. - Scarcely she wonder’d, when these accents fell - Slow in her ear--“Fair maiden, art thou well?”-- - “Art thou physician?” she replied; “my hand, - My pulse, at least, shall be at thy command.” - She said--and saw, surprised, Josiah kneel, 370 - And gave his lips the offer’d pulse to feel; - The rosy colour rising in her cheek - Seem’d that surprise, unmix’d with wrath, to speak; - Then sternness she assumed, and--“Doctor, tell, - Thy words cannot alarm me--am I well?” - “Thou art,” said he; “and yet thy dress so light, - I do conceive, some danger must excite.” - “In whom?” said Sybil, with a look demure; - “In more,” said he, “than I expect to cure. - I, in thy light luxuriant robe, behold } - Want and excess, abounding and yet cold: } - Here needed, there display’d, in many a wanton fold; } - Both health and beauty, learned authors show, - From a just medium in our clothing flow.” - “Proceed, good doctor; if so great my need, - What is thy fee? Good doctor! pray proceed.” - “Large is my fee, fair lady, but I take - None till some progress in my cure I make. - Thou hast disease, fair maiden; thou art vain; - Within that face sit insult and disdain; 390 - Thou art enamour’d of thyself; my art - Can see the naughty malice of thy heart; - With a strong pleasure would thy bosom move, - Were I to own thy power, and ask thy love; - And such thy beauty, damsel, that I might, } - But for thy pride, feel danger in thy sight, } - And lose my present peace in dreams of vain delight.” } - “And can thy patients,” said the nymph, “endure - Physic like this? and will it work a cure?” - “Such is my hope, fair damsel; thou, I find, 400 - Hast the true tokens of a noble mind; - But the world wins thee, Sybil, and thy joys - Are placed in trifles, fashions, follies, toys; - Thou hast sought pleasure in the world around, - That in thine own pure bosom should be found. - Did all that world admire thee, praise and love, - Could it the least of nature’s pains remove? - Could it for errors, follies, sins atone, - Or give thee comfort, thoughtful and alone? - It has, believe me, maid, no power to charm 410 - Thy soul from sorrow, or thy flesh from harm: - Turn then, fair creature, from a world of sin, - And seek the jewel happiness within.” - “Speak’st thou at meeting?” said the nymph; “thy speech - Is that of mortal very prone to teach; - But wouldst thou, doctor, from the patient learn - Thine own disease?--The cure is thy concern.” - “Yea, with good will.”--“Then know, ’tis thy complaint, - That, for a sinner, thou’rt too much a saint; - Hast too much show of the sedate and pure, 420 - And without cause art formal and demure: - This makes a man unsocial, unpolite; - Odious when wrong, and insolent if right. - Thou may’st be good, but why should goodness be - Wrapt in a garb of such formality? - Thy person well might please a damsel’s eye, - In decent habit with a scarlet dye; - But, jest apart--what virtue canst thou trace - In that broad brim that hides thy sober face? - Does that long-skirted drab, that over-nice 430 - And formal clothing, prove a scorn of vice? - Then for thine accent--what in sound can be - So void of grace as dull monotony? - Love has a thousand varied notes to move - The human heart--thou may’st not speak of love - Till thou hast cast thy formal ways aside, - And those becoming youth and nature tried; - Not till exterior freedom, spirit, ease, - Prove it thy study and delight to please; - Not till these follies meet thy just disdain, 440 - While yet thy virtues and thy worth remain.” - “This is severe!--Oh! maiden, wilt not thou - Something for habits, manners, modes, allow?”-- - “Yes! but allowing much, I much require, - In my behalf, for manners, modes, attire!” - “True, lovely Sybil; and, this point agreed, - Let me to those of greater weight proceed: - Thy father”--“Nay,” she quickly interposed, - “Good doctor, here our conference is closed!” - Then left the youth, who, lost in his retreat, 450 - Pass’d the good matron on her garden-seat; - His looks were troubled, and his air, once mild - And calm, was hurried:--“My audacious child!” - Exclaim’d the dame, “I read what she has done - In thy displeasure--Ah! the thoughtless one; - But yet, Josiah, to my stern good man - Speak of the maid as mildly as you can. - Can you not seem to woo a little while - The daughter’s will, the father to beguile, - So that his wrath in time may wear away? 460 - Will you preserve our peace, Josiah? say!” - “Yes! my good neighbour,” said the gentle youth, - “Rely securely on my care and truth; - And, should thy comfort with my efforts cease, - And only then--perpetual is thy peace.” - The dame had doubts: she well his virtues knew, - His deeds were friendly, and his words were true; - “But to address this vixen is a task - He is ashamed to take, and I to ask.” - Soon as the father from Josiah learn’d 470 - What pass’d with Sybil, he the truth discern’d. - “He loves,” the man exclaim’d, “he loves, ’tis plain, - The thoughtless girl, and shall he love in vain? - She may be stubborn, but she shall be tried, - Born as she is of wilfulness and pride.” - With anger fraught, but willing to persuade, - The wrathful father met the smiling maid. - “Sybil,” said he, “I long, and yet I dread - To know thy conduct--hath Josiah fled, - And, grieved and fretted by thy scornful air, 480 - For his lost peace betaken him to prayer? - Couldst thou his pure and modest mind distress, } - By vile remarks upon his speech, address, } - Attire, and voice?”--“All this I must confess.”-- } - “Unhappy child! what labour will it cost - To win him back!”--“I do not think him lost.” - “Courts he then, trifler, insult and disdain?”-- - “No: but from these he courts me to refrain.”-- - “Then hear me, Sybil: should Josiah leave - Thy father’s house?”--“My father’s child would grieve.”-- - “That is of grace; and if he come again 491 - To speak of love?”--“I might from grief refrain.”-- - “Then wilt thou, daughter, our design embrace?”-- - “Can I resist it, if it be of grace?”-- - “Dear child! in three plain words thy mind express-- - Wilt thou have this good youth?”--“Dear father! yes.” - - - - -TALE VII. - -_THE WIDOW’S TALE._ - - - Ah me! for aught that I could ever read, - [Could] ever hear by tale or history, - The course of true love never did run smooth; - But, either it was different in blood, [. . .] - Or else misgrafted in respect of years, [. . .] - Or else it stood upon the choice of friends, [. . .] - Or if there were a sympathy in choice, - War, death, or sickness did lay siege to it. - _Midsummer Night’s Dream_, Act I. Scene 1. - - Oh! thou didst then ne’er love so heartily, - If thou rememberest not the slightest folly - That ever love did make thee run into . . . - _As You Like It_, Act II. Scene 4. - - Cry the man mercy; love him; take his offer. - _As You Like It_, Act III. Scene 5. - - -TALE VII. - -_THE WIDOW’S TALE._ - - To farmer Moss, in Langar Vale, came down - His only daughter, from her school in town; - A tender, timid maid! who knew not how - To pass a pig-sty, or to face a cow: - Smiling she came, with petty talents graced, - A fair complexion, and a slender waist. - Used to spare meals, disposed in manner pure, - Her father’s kitchen she could ill endure; - Where by the steaming beef he hungry sat, - And laid at once a pound upon his plate; 10 - Hot from the field, her eager brother seized - An equal part, and hunger’s rage appeased; - The air, surcharged with moisture, flagg’d around, - And the offended damsel sigh’d and frown’d; - The swelling fat in lumps conglomerate laid, - And fancy’s sickness seized the loathing maid. - But, when the men beside their station took, - The maidens with them, and with these the cook; - When one huge wooden bowl before them stood, - Fill’d with huge balls of farinaceous food; 20 - With bacon, mass saline, where never lean - Beneath the brown and bristly rind was seen; - When from a single horn the party drew - Their copious draughts of heavy ale and new; - When the coarse cloth she saw, with many a stain, - Soil’d by rude hinds who cut and came again-- - She could not breathe; but, with a heavy sigh, - Rein’d the fair neck, and shut th’ offended eye; - She minced the sanguine flesh in frustums fine, - And wonder’d much to see the creatures dine: 30 - When she resolved her father’s heart to move, - If hearts of farmers were alive to love. - She now entreated by herself to sit - In the small parlour, if papa thought fit, - And there to dine, to read, to work alone.-- - “No!” said the farmer, in an angry tone; - “These are your school-taught airs; your mother’s pride - Would send you there; but I am now your guide.-- - Arise betimes, our early meal prepare, - And, this despatch’d, let business be your care; 40 - Look to the lasses, let there not be one - Who lacks attention, till her tasks be done; - In every household work your portion take, - And what you make not, see that others make. - At leisure times attend the wheel, and see - The whit’ning web be sprinkled on the [lea]; - When thus employ’d, should our young neighbour view - An useful lass, you may have more to do.” - Dreadful were these commands; but worse than these - The parting hint--a farmer could not please: 50 - ’Tis true she had without abhorrence seen - Young Harry Carr, when he was smart and clean; - But to be married--be a farmer’s wife-- - A slave! a drudge!--she could not, for her life. - With swimming eyes the fretful nymph withdrew, - And, deeply sighing, to her chamber flew; - There on her knees, to Heav’n she grieving pray’d - For change of prospect to a tortured maid. - Harry, a youth whose late-departed sire - Had left him all industrious men require, 60 - Saw the pale beauty--and her shape and air - Engaged him much, and yet he must forbear: - “For my small farm what can the damsel do?” - He said--then stopp’d to take another view: - “Pity so sweet a lass will nothing learn - Of household cares--for what can beauty earn - By those small arts which they at school attain, - That keep them useless, and yet make them vain?” - This luckless damsel look’d the village round, - To find a friend, and one was quickly found; 70 - A pensive widow--whose mild air and dress } - Pleased the sad nymph, who wish’d her soul’s distress } - To one so seeming kind, confiding, to confess.-- } - “What lady that?” the anxious lass inquired, - Who then beheld the one she most admired. - “Here,” said the brother, “are no ladies seen-- - That is a widow dwelling on the green; - A dainty dame, who can but barely live - On her poor pittance, yet contrives to give; - She happier days has known, but seems at ease, 80 - And you may call her lady, if you please. - But if you wish, good sister, to improve, - You shall see twenty better worth your love.” - These Nancy met; but, spite of all they taught, - This useless widow was the one she sought. - The father growl’d; but said he knew no harm - In such connexion that could give alarm; - “And if we thwart the trifler in her course, - ’Tis odds against us she will take a worse.” - Then met the friends; the widow heard the sigh 90 - That ask’d at once compassion and reply:-- - “Would you, my child, converse with one so poor, - Yours were the kindness--yonder is my door; - And, save the time that we in public pray, - From that poor cottage I but rarely stray.” - There went the nymph, and made her strong complaints, - Painting her wo as injured feeling paints. - “Oh, dearest friend! do think how one must feel, - Shock’d all day long, and sicken’d every meal; - Could you behold our kitchen (and to you 100 - A scene so shocking must indeed be new), - A mind like yours, with true refinement graced, - Would let no vulgar scenes pollute your taste; - And yet, in truth, from such a polish’d mind - All base ideas must resistance find, - And sordid pictures from the fancy pass, - As the breath startles from the polish’d glass. - “Here you enjoy a sweet romantic scene, - Without so pleasant, and within so clean; - These twining jess’mines, what delicious gloom 110 - And soothing fragrance yield they to the room! - What lovely garden! there you oft retire, - And tales of wo and tenderness admire: - In that neat case, your books, in order placed, - Soothe the full soul, and charm the cultured taste; - And thus, while all about you wears a charm, - How must you scorn the farmer and the farm!” - The widow smiled, and “Know you not,” said she, } - “How much these farmers scorn or pity me; } - Who see what you admire, and laugh at all they see? } 120 - True, their opinion alters not my fate, - By falsely judging of an humble state: - This garden, you with such delight behold, - Tempts not a feeble dame who dreads the cold; - These plants, which please so well your livelier sense, - To mine but little of their sweets dispense; - Books soon are painful to my failing sight, - And oftener read from duty than delight; - (Yet let me own, that I can sometimes find - Both joy and duty in the act combined;) 130 - But view me rightly, you will see no more - Than a poor female, willing to be poor; - Happy indeed, but not in books nor flowers, - Not in fair dreams, indulged in earlier hours, - Of never-tasted joys--such visions shun, - My youthful friend, nor scorn the farmer’s son.” - “Nay,” said the damsel, nothing pleased to see - A friend’s advice could like a father’s be; - “Bless’d in your cottage, you must surely smile - At those who live in our detested style. 140 - To my Lucinda’s sympathizing heart - Could I my prospects and my griefs impart, - She would console me; but I dare not show - Ills that would wound her tender soul to know: - And I confess, it shocks my pride to tell - The secrets of the prison where I dwell; - For that dear maiden would be shock’d to feel - The secrets I should shudder to reveal; - When told her friend was by a parent ask’d, - ‘Fed you the swine?’--Good heav’n! how I am task’d! 150 - What! can you smile? Ah! smile not at the grief - That woos your pity and demands relief.” - “Trifles, my love; you take a false alarm; - Think, I beseech you, better of the farm: - Duties in every state demand your care, - And light are those that will require it there: - Fix on the youth a favouring eye, and these, - To him pertaining, or as his, will please.” - “What words,” the lass replied, “offend my ear! - Try you my patience? Can you be sincere? 160 - And am I told a willing hand to give - To a rude farmer, and with rustic live? - Far other fate was yours--some gentle youth - Admired your beauty, and avow’d his truth; - The power of love prevail’d, and freely both - Gave the fond heart, and pledged the binding oath; - And then the rivals’ plot, the parent’s power, - And jealous fears, drew on the happy hour: - Ah! let not memory lose the blissful view, - But fairly show what love has done for you.” 170 - “Agreed, my daughter; what my heart has known - Of love’s strange power shall be with frankness shown: - But let me warn you, that experience finds - Few of the scenes that lively hope designs.”-- - “Mysterious all,” said Nancy; “you, I know, - Have suffer’d much; now deign the grief to show-- - I am your friend, and so prepare my heart - In all your sorrows to receive a part.” - The widow answer’d: “I had once, like you, - Such thoughts of love; no dream is more untrue. 180 - You judge it fated and decreed to dwell } - In youthful hearts, which nothing can expel, } - A passion doom’d to reign, and irresistible. } - The struggling mind, when once subdued, in vain - Rejects the fury or defies the pain; - The strongest reason fails the flame t’ allay, - And resolution droops and faints away: - Hence, when the destined lovers meet, they prove - At once the force of this all-powerful love; - Each from that period feels the mutual smart, 190 - Nor seeks to cure it--heart is changed for heart; - Nor is there peace till they delighted stand, - And, at the altar, hand is join’d to hand. - “Alas! my child, there are who, dreaming so, - Waste their fresh youth, and waking feel the wo; - There is no spirit sent the heart to move - With such prevailing and alarming love; - Passion to reason will submit--or why - Should wealthy maids the poorest swains deny? - Or how could classes and degrees create 200 - The slightest bar to such resistless fate? - Yet high and low, you see, forbear to mix; - No beggars’ eyes the heart of kings transfix; - And who but am’rous peers or nobles sigh - When titled beauties pass triumphant by? - For reason wakes, proud wishes to reprove; - You cannot hope, and therefore dare not love: - All would be safe, did we at first inquire-- - ‘Does reason sanction what our hearts desire?’ - But, quitting precept, let example show 210 - What joys from love uncheck’d by prudence flow. - “A youth my father in his office placed, - Of humble fortune, but with sense and taste; - But he was thin and pale, had downcast looks; - He studied much, and pored upon his books: - Confused he was when seen, and, when he saw - Me or my sisters, would in haste withdraw; - And had this youth departed with the year, - His loss had cost us neither sigh nor tear. - “But with my father still the youth remain’d, 220 - And more reward and kinder notice gain’d: - He often, reading, to the garden stray’d, - Where I by books or musing was delay’d; - This to discourse in summer evenings led, - Of these same evenings, or of what we read. - On such occasions we were much alone; - But, save the look, the manner, and the tone, - (These might have meaning,) all that we discuss’d - We could with pleasure to a parent trust. - “At length ’twas friendship--and my friend and I 230 - Said we were happy, and began to sigh; - My sisters first, and then my father, found - That we were wandering o’er enchanted ground; - But he had troubles in his own affairs, - And would not bear addition to his cares. - With pity moved, yet angry, ‘Child,’ said he, - ‘Will you embrace contempt and beggary? - Can you endure to see each other cursed - By want, of every human wo the worst? - Warring for ever with distress, in dread 240 - Either of begging or of wanting bread; - While poverty, with unrelenting force, - Will your own offspring from your love divorce; - They, through your folly, must be doom’d to pine, - And you deplore your passion, or resign; - For, if it die, what good will then remain? - And if it live, it doubles every pain.’”-- - “But you were true,” exclaim’d the lass, “and fled } - The tyrant’s power who fill’d your soul with dread?”-- } - “But,” said the smiling friend, “he fill’d my mouth } - with bread; } 250 - And in what other place that bread to gain - We long consider’d, and we sought in vain. - This was my twentieth year--at thirty-five - Our hope was fainter, yet our love alive; - So many years in anxious doubt had pass’d.”-- - “Then,” said the damsel, “you were bless’d at last?” - A smile again adorn’d the widow’s face, - But soon a starting tear usurp’d its place.-- - “Slow pass’d the heavy years, and each had more - Pains and vexations than the years before. 260 - My father fail’d; his family was rent, - And to new states his grieving daughters sent; - Each to more thriving kindred found a way, - Guests without welcome--servants without pay; - Our parting hour was grievous; still I feel - The sad, sweet converse at our final meal: - Our father then reveal’d his former fears, - Cause of his sternness, and then join’d our tears; - Kindly he strove our feelings to repress, - But died, and left us heirs to his distress. 270 - The rich, as humble friends, my sisters chose; - I with a wealthy widow sought repose; - Who with a chilling frown her friend received, - Bade me rejoice, and wonder’d that I grieved: - In vain my anxious lover tried his skill - To rise in life, he was dependent still; - We met in grief, nor can I paint the fears - Of these unhappy, troubled, trying years: - Our dying hopes and stronger fears between, - We felt no season peaceful or serene; 280 - Our fleeting joys, like meteors in the night, - Shone on our gloom with inauspicious light; - And then domestic sorrows, till the mind, - Worn with distresses, to despair inclined; - Add too the ill that from the passion flows, - When its contemptuous frown the world bestows-- - The peevish spirit caused by long delay, - When being gloomy we contemn the gay, - When, being wretched, we incline to hate - And censure others in a happier state; 290 - Yet loving still, and still compell’d to move - In the sad labyrinth of ling’ring love: - While you, exempt from want, despair, alarm, - May wed--oh! take the farmer and the farm.” - “Nay,” said the nymph, “joy smiled on you at last!” - “Smiled for a moment,” she replied, “and pass’d: - My lover still the same dull means pursued, - Assistant call’d, but kept in servitude; - His spirits wearied in the prime of life, - By fears and wishes in eternal strife; 300 - At length he urged impatient--‘Now consent; - With thee united, fortune may relent.’ - I paused, consenting; but a friend arose, - Pleased a fair view, though distant, to disclose; - From the rough ocean we beheld a gleam - Of joy, as transient as the joys we dream; - By lying hopes deceived, my friend retired, - And sail’d--was wounded--reach’d us--and expired! - You shall behold his grave, and, when I die, - There--but ’tis folly--I request to lie.” 310 - “Thus,” said the lass, “to joy you bade adieu! - But how a widow?--that cannot be true; - Or was it force, in some unhappy hour, - That placed you, grieving, in a tyrant’s power?” - “Force, my young friend, when forty years are fled, - Is what a woman seldom has to dread; - She needs no brazen locks nor guarding walls, - And seldom comes a lover, though she calls. - Yet moved by fancy, one approved my face, - Though time and tears had wrought it much disgrace. 320 - “The man I married was sedate and meek, - And spoke of love as men in earnest speak; - Poor as I was, he ceaseless sought, for years, - A heart in sorrow and a face in tears; - That heart I gave not; and ’twas long before - I gave attention, and then nothing more; - But in my breast some grateful feeling rose - For one whose love so sad a subject chose; - Till long delaying, fearing to repent, - But grateful still, I gave a cold assent. 330 - “Thus we were wed; no fault had I to find, - And he but one; my heart could not be kind: - Alas! of every early hope bereft, - There was no fondness in my bosom left; - So had I told him, but had told in vain, - He lived but to indulge me and complain. - His was this cottage, he inclosed this ground, - And planted all these blooming shrubs around; - He to my room these curious trifles brought, - And with assiduous love my pleasure sought; 340 - He lived to please me, and I oft-times strove - Smiling, to thank his unrequited love; - ‘Teach me,’ he cried, ‘that pensive mind to ease, - For all my pleasure is the hope to please.’ - “Serene, though heavy, were the days we spent, - Yet kind each word, and gen’rous each intent; - But his dejection lessen’d every day, - And to a placid kindness died away. - In tranquil ease we pass’d our latter years, - By griefs untroubl’d, unassail’d by fears. 350 - “Let not romantic views your bosom sway, - Yield to your duties, and their call obey: - Fly not a youth, frank, honest, and sincere; - Observe his merits, and his passion hear! - ’Tis true, no hero, but a farmer sues-- - Slow in his speech, but worthy in his views; - With him you cannot that affliction prove, - That rends the bosom of the poor in love; - Health, comfort, competence, and cheerful days, - Your friends’ approval, and your father’s praise, 360 - Will crown the deed, and you escape _their_ fate - Who plan so wildly, and are wise too late.” - The damsel heard; at first th’ advice was strange, - Yet wrought a happy, nay, a speedy change. - “I have no care,” she said, when next they met, - “But one may wonder he is silent yet; - He looks around him with his usual stare, - And utters nothing--not that I shall care.” - This pettish humour pleased th’ experienced friend-- - None need despair, whose silence can offend; 370 - “Should I,” resumed the thoughtful lass, “consent - To hear the man, the man may now repent. - Think you my sighs shall call him from the plough, - Or give one hint, that ‘You may woo me now?’” - “Persist, my love,” replied the friend, “and gain - A parent’s praise, _that_ cannot be in vain.” - The father saw the change, but not the cause, - And gave the alter’d maid his fond applause. - The coarser manners she in part removed, - In part endured, improving and improved; 380 - She spoke of household works, she rose betimes, - And said neglect and indolence were crimes; - The various duties of their life she weigh’d, - And strict attention to her dairy paid; - The names of servants now familiar grew, - And fair Lucinda’s from her mind withdrew. - As prudent travellers for their ease assume - _Their_ modes and language to whose lands they come: - So to the farmer this fair lass inclined, - Gave to the business of the farm her mind; 390 - To useful arts she turn’d her hand and eye; - And by her manners told him--“You may try.” - Th’ observing lover more attention paid, - With growing pleasure, to the alter’d maid; - He fear’d to lose her, and began to see - That a slim beauty might a helpmate be; - ’Twixt hope and fear he now the lass address’d, - And in his Sunday robe his love express’d. - She felt no chilling dread, no thrilling joy, - Nor was too quickly kind, too slowly coy; 400 - But still she lent an unreluctant ear - To all the rural business of the year; - Till love’s strong hopes endured no more delay, - And Harry ask’d, and Nancy named the day. - “A happy change! my boy,” the father cried: - “How lost your sister all her school-day pride?” - The youth replied, “It is the widow’s deed: - The cure is perfect, and was wrought with speed.”-- - “And comes there, boy, this benefit of books, - Of that smart dress, and of those dainty looks? 410 - We must be kind--some offerings from the farm - To the white cot will speak our feelings warm; - Will show that people, when they know the fact, - Where they have judged severely, can retract. - Oft have I smil’d, when I beheld her pass - With cautious step, as if she hurt the grass; - Where if a snail’s retreat she chanced to storm, - She look’d as begging pardon of the worm; - And what, said I, still laughing at the view, - Have these weak creatures in the world to do? 420 - But some are made for action, some to speak; } - And, while she looks so pitiful and meek, } - Her words are weighty, though her nerves are weak.” } - Soon told the village-bells the rite was done, - That join’d the school-bred miss and farmer’s son; - Her former habits some slight scandal raised, - But real worth was soon perceived and praised; - She, her neat taste imparted to the farm, - And he, th’ improving skill and vigorous arm. - - - - -TALE VIII. - -_THE MOTHER._ - - - What though you have beauty, - Must you be therefore proud and pitiless? - _As You Like It_, Act III. Scene 5. - -I would not marry her, though she were endow’d with all that Adam had -left him before he transgress’d. - _Much Ado about Nothing_, Act II. Scene 1. - -Wilt thou love such a woman? What! to make thee an instrument, and -play false strains upon thee!--Not to be endured. - - _As You Like It_, Act IV. Scene 3. - - Your son, - As mad in folly, lack’d the sense to know - Her estimation [home]. - _All’s Well that Ends Well_, Act V, Scene 3. - - He [lost] a wife - . . . whose words all ears took captive, - Whose dear perfection, hearts that scorn’d to serve - Humbly call’d mistress. . . . - Be this sweet Helen’s knell. - _All’s Well that Ends Well_, Act V. Scene 3. - - -TALE VIII. - -_THE MOTHER._ - - There was a worthy, but a simple pair, - Who nursed a daughter, fairest of the fair. - Sons they had lost, and she alone remain’d, - Heir to the kindness they had all obtain’d; - Heir to the fortune they design’d for all, - Nor had th’ allotted portion then been small; - But now, by fate enrich’d with beauty rare, - They watch’d their treasure with peculiar care. - The fairest features they could early trace, } - And, blind with love, saw merit in her face-- } 10 - Saw virtue, wisdom, dignity, and grace; } - And Dorothea, from her infant years, - Gain’d all her wishes from their pride or fears; - She wrote a billet, and a novel read, - And with her fame her vanity was fed; - Each word, each look, each action was a cause - For flattering wonder, and for fond applause; - She rode or danced, and ever glanced around, - Seeking for praise, and smiling when she found. - The yielding pair to her petitions gave 20 - An humble friend to be a civil slave; - Who for a poor support herself resign’d - To the base toil of a dependent mind. - By nature cold, our heiress stoop’d to art, - To gain the credit of a tender heart; - Hence at her door must suppliant paupers stand, - To bless the bounty of her beauteous hand. - And now, her education all complete, - She talk’d of virtuous love and union sweet; - She was indeed by no soft passion moved, 30 - But wish’d, with all her soul, to be beloved. - Here on the favour’d beauty fortune smiled; - Her chosen husband was a man so mild, - So humbly temper’d, so intent to please, } - It quite distress’d her to remain at ease, } - Without a cause to sigh, without pretence to tease. } - She tried his patience in a thousand modes, - And tired it not upon the roughest roads. - Pleasure she sought, and, disappointed, sigh’d - For joys, she said, “to her alone denied;” 40 - And she was “sure her parents, if alive, - Would many comforts for their child contrive.” - The gentle husband bade her name him one;-- - “No--that,” she answer’d, “should for her be done; - How could she say what pleasures were around? - But she was certain many might be found.”-- - “Would she some sea-port, Weymouth, Scarborough, grace?”-- - “He knew she hated every watering-place.”-- - “The town?”--“What! now ’twas empty, joyless, dull?” - --“In winter?”--“No; she liked it worse when full.” 50 - She talk’d of building--“Would she plan a room?”-- - “No! she could live, as he desired, in gloom.”-- - “Call then our friends and neighbours?”--“He might call, } - And they might come and fill his ugly hall; } - A noisy vulgar set, he knew she scorn’d them all.”-- } - “Then, might their two dear girls the time employ, - And their improvement yield a solid joy?”-- - “Solid indeed! and heavy--oh! the bliss - Of teaching letters to a lisping Miss!”-- - “My dear, my gentle Dorothea, say, 60 - Can I oblige you?”--“You may go away.” - Twelve heavy years this patient soul sustain’d } - This wasp’s attacks, and then her praise obtain’d, } - Graved on a marble tomb, where he at peace remain’d. } - Two daughters wept their loss: the one a child - With a plain face, strong sense, and temper mild, - Who keenly felt the mother’s angry taunt, - “Thou art the image of thy pious aunt.” - Long time had Lucy wept her slighted face, - And then began to smile at her disgrace. 70 - Her father’s sister, who the world had seen - Near sixty years when Lucy saw sixteen, - Begg’d the plain girl: the gracious mother smiled, - And freely gave her grieved but passive child; - And with her elder-born, the [beauty-bless’d,] - This parent rested, if such minds can rest. - No miss her waxen babe could so admire, - Nurse with such care, or with such pride attire; - They were companions meet, with equal mind, - Bless’d with one love, and to one point inclined: 80 - Beauty to keep, adorn, increase, and guard, - Was their sole care, and had its full reward. - In rising splendor with the one it reign’d, } - And in the other was by care sustain’d, } - The daughter’s charms increased, the parent’s yet remain’d.-- } - Leave we these ladies to their daily care, - To see how meekness and discretion fare. - A village maid, unvex’d by want or love, - Could not with more delight than Lucy move; - The village-lark, high mounted in the spring, 90 - Could not with purer joy than Lucy sing; - Her cares all light, her pleasures all sincere, - Her duty joy, and her companion dear; - In tender friendship and in true respect - Lived aunt and niece, no flattery, no neglect-- - They read, walk’d, visited--together pray’d, - Together slept the matron and the maid. - There was such goodness, such pure nature seen - In Lucy’s looks, a manner so serene; - Such harmony in motion, speech, and air, 100 - That without fairness she was more than fair; - Had more than beauty in each speaking grace, - That lent their cloudless glory to the face; - Where mild good sense in placid looks were shown, - And felt in every bosom but her own. - The one presiding feature in her mind, - Was the pure meekness of a will resign’d; - A tender spirit, freed from all pretence - Of wit, and pleased in mild benevolence; - Bless’d in protecting fondness she reposed, 110 - With every wish indulged though undisclosed; - But love, like zephyr on the limpid lake, } - Was now the bosom of the maid to shake, } - And in that gentle mind a gentle strife to make. } - Among their chosen friends, a favour’d few, - The aunt and niece a youthful rector knew; - Who, though a younger brother, might address - A younger sister, fearless of success. - His friends, a lofty race, their native pride - At first display’d, and their assent denied; 120 - But, pleased such virtues and such love to trace, - They own’d she would adorn the loftiest race. - The aunt, a mother’s caution to supply, - Had watch’d the youthful priest with jealous eye; - And, anxious for her charge, had view’d unseen - The cautious life that keeps the conscience clean. - In all she found him all she wish’d to find, - With slight exception of a lofty mind: - A certain manner that express’d desire, - To be received as brother to the ’squire. 130 - Lucy’s meek eye had beam’d with many a tear, - Lucy’s soft heart had beat with many a fear, - Before he told (although his looks, she thought, - Had oft confess’d) that he her favour sought; - But when he kneel’d, (she wish’d him not to kneel,) - And spoke the fears and hopes that lovers feel; - When too the prudent aunt herself confess’d, - Her wishes on the gentle youth would rest; - The maiden’s eye with tender passion beam’d, - She dwelt with fondness on the life she schemed-- 140 - The household cares, the soft and lasting ties - Of love, with all his binding charities; - Their village taught, consoled, assisted, fed, - Till the young zealot tears of pleasure shed. - But would her mother? Ah! she fear’d it wrong - To have indulged these forward hopes so long; - Her mother loved, but was not used to grant - Favours so freely as her gentle aunt.-- - Her gentle aunt, with smiles that angels wear, - Dispell’d her Lucy’s apprehensive tear: 150 - Her prudent foresight the request had made - To one whom none could govern, few persuade; - She doubted much if one in earnest woo’d - A girl with not a single charm endued; - The sister’s nobler views she then declared, - And what small sum for Lucy could be spared; - “If more than this the foolish priest requires, - Tell him,” she wrote, “to check his vain desires.” - At length, with many a cold expression mix’d, - With many a sneer on girls so fondly fix’d, 160 - There came a promise--should they not repent, } - But take with grateful minds the portion meant, } - And wait the sister’s day--the mother might consent. } - And here, might pitying hope o’er truth prevail, - Or love o’er fortune, we would end our tale: - For who more bless’d than youthful pair removed - From fear of want--by mutual friends approved-- - Short time to wait, and in that time to live - With all the pleasures hope and fancy give; - Their equal passion raised on just esteem, 170 - When reason sanctions all that love can dream? - Yes! reason sanctions what stern fate denies: - The early prospect in the glory dies, - As the soft smiles on dying infants play - In their mild features, and then pass away. - The beauty died, ere she could yield her hand - In the high marriage by the mother plann’d: - Who grieved indeed, but found a vast relief - In a cold heart, that ever warr’d with grief. - Lucy was present when her sister died, 180 - Heiress to duties that she ill supplied: - There were no mutual feelings, sister arts, - No kindred taste, nor intercourse of hearts; - When in the mirror play’d the matron’s smile, - The maiden’s thoughts were travelling all the while; - And, when desired to speak, she sigh’d to find - Her pause offended:--“Envy made her blind; - Tasteless she was, nor had a claim in life - Above the station of a rector’s wife; - Yet as an heiress, she must shun disgrace, 190 - Although no heiress to her mother’s face: - It is your duty,” said th’ imperious dame, } - “(Advanced your fortune) to advance your name, } - And with superior rank, superior offers claim. } - Your sister’s lover, when his sorrows die, - May look upon you, and for favour sigh; - Nor can you offer a reluctant hand; - His birth is noble, and his seat is grand.” - Alarm’d was Lucy, was in tears--“A fool! - Was she a child in love?--a miss at school? 200 - Doubts any mortal, if a change of state - Dissolves all claims and ties of earlier date?” - The rector doubted, for he came to mourn - A sister dead, and with a wife return. - Lucy with heart unchanged received the youth, - True in herself, confiding in his truth; - But own’d her mother’s change: the haughty dame - Pour’d strong contempt upon the youthful flame; - She firmly vow’d her purpose to pursue, - Judged her own cause, and bade the youth adieu! 210 - The lover begg’d, insisted, urged his pain; - His brother wrote to threaten and complain; - Her sister, reasoning, proved the promise made, - Lucy, appealing to a parent, pray’d; - But all opposed th’ event that she design’d, - And all in vain--she never changed her mind; - But coldly answer’d in her wonted way, - That she “would rule, and Lucy must obey.” - With peevish fear, she saw her health decline, - And cried, “Oh! monstrous, for a man to pine; 220 - But if your foolish heart must yield to love, - Let him possess it whom I now approve; - This is my pleasure.”--Still the rector came - With larger offers and with bolder claim; - But the stern lady would attend no more-- - She frown’d, and rudely pointed to the door; - Whate’er he wrote, he saw unread return’d, - And he, indignant, the dishonour spurn’d; - Nay, fix’d suspicion where he might confide, - And sacrificed his passion to his pride. 230 - Lucy, meantime, though threaten’d and distress’d, - Against her marriage made a strong protest. - All was domestic war: the aunt rebell’d - Against the sovereign will, and was expell’d; - And every power was tried and every art, - To bend to falsehood one determined heart; - Assail’d, in patience it received the shock, - Soft as the wave, unshaken as the rock; - But while th’ unconquer’d soul endures the storm - Of angry fate, it preys upon the form. 240 - With conscious virtue she resisted still, - And conscious love gave vigour to her will; - But Lucy’s trial was at hand; with joy - The mother cried--“Behold your constant boy-- - Thursday--was married--take the paper, sweet, - And read the conduct of your reverend cheat; - See with what pomp of coaches, in what crowd - The creature married--of his falsehood proud! - False, did I say?--at least no whining fool; - And thus will hopeless passions ever cool: 250 - But shall his bride your single state reproach? - No! give him crowd for crowd, and coach for coach. - Oh! you retire; reflect then, gentle miss, - And gain some spirit in a cause like this.” - Some spirit Lucy gain’d; a steady soul, - Defying all persuasion, all control: - In vain reproach, derision, threats were tried; } - The constant mind all outward force defied, } - By vengeance vainly urged, in vain assail’d by pride. } - Fix’d in her purpose, perfect in her part, 260 - She felt the courage of a wounded heart; - The world receded from her rising view, - When Heaven approach’d as earthly things withdrew; - Not strange before, for in the days of love, - Joy, hope, and pleasure, she had thoughts above; - Pious when most of worldly prospects fond, - When they best pleased her she could look beyond; - Had the young priest a faithful lover died, - Something had been her bosom to divide; - Now Heaven had all, for in her holiest views 270 - She saw the matron whom she fear’d to lose; - While from her parent the dejected maid - Forced the unpleasant thought, or thinking pray’d. - Surprised, the mother saw the languid frame, - And felt indignant, yet forbore to blame. - Once with a frown she cried, “And do you mean - To die of love--the folly of fifteen?” - But as her anger met with no reply, - She let the gentle girl in quiet die; - And to her sister wrote, impell’d by pain, 280 - “Come quickly, Martha, or you come in vain.” - Lucy meantime profess’d with joy sincere, - That nothing held, employ’d, engaged her here.-- - “I am an humble actor, doom’d to play - A part obscure, and then to glide away; - Incurious how the great or happy shine, - Or who have parts obscure and sad as mine; - In its best prospect I but wish’d, for life, - To be th’ assiduous, gentle, useful wife; - That lost, with wearied mind, and spirit poor, 290 - I drop my efforts, and can act no more; - With growing joy I feel my spirits tend - To that last scene where all my duties end.” - Hope, ease, delight, the thoughts of dying gave, - Till Lucy spoke with fondness of the grave; - She smiled with wasted form, but spirit firm, - And said, she left but little for the worm. - As toll’d the bell, “There’s one,” she said, “hath press’d - Awhile before me to the bed of rest;” - And she beside her with attention spread 300 - The decorations of the maiden dead. - While quickly thus the mortal part declined, - The happiest visions fill’d the active mind; - A soft, religious melancholy gain’d - Entire possession, and for ever reign’d; - On holy writ her mind reposing dwelt, - She saw the wonders, she the mercies felt; - Till in a bless’d and glorious reverie, } - She seem’d the Saviour as on earth to see, } - And, fill’d with love divine, th’ attending } - friend to be; } 310 - Or she, who trembling, yet confiding, stole - Near to the garment, touch’d it, and was whole; - When, such th’ intenseness of the working thought, - On her it seem’d the very deed was wrought; - She the glad patient’s fear and rapture found, - The holy transport, and the healing wound; - This was so fix’d, so grafted in the heart, - That she adopted, nay became, the part. - But one chief scene was present to her sight: - Her Saviour resting in the tomb by night; 320 - Her fever rose, and still her wedded mind - Was to that scene, that hallow’d cave, confined-- - Where in the shade of death the body laid, - There watch’d the spirit of the wandering maid; - Her looks were fix’d, entranced, illumed, serene, - In the still glory of the midnight scene; - There at her Saviour’s feet, in visions bless’d, - Th’ enraptured maid a sacred joy possess’d; - In patience waiting for the first-born ray - Of that all-glorious and triumphant day. 330 - To this idea all her soul she gave, - Her mind reposing by the sacred grave; - Then sleep would seal the eye, the vision close, - And steep the solemn thoughts in brief repose. - Then grew the soul serene, and all its powers, - Again restored illumed the dying hours; - But reason dwelt where fancy stray’d before, - And the mind wander’d from its views no more; - Till death approach’d, when every look express’d - A sense of bliss, till every sense had rest. 340 - The mother lives, and has enough to buy - Th’ attentive ear and the submissive eye - Of abject natures--these are daily told, - How triumph’d beauty in the days of old; - How, by her window seated, crowds have cast - Admiring glances, wondering as they pass’d; - How from her carriage as she stepp’d to pray, - Divided ranks would humbly make her way; - And how each voice in the astonish’d throng - Pronounced her peerless as she moved along. 350 - Her picture then the greedy dame displays; - Touch’d by no shame, she now demands its praise; - In her tall mirror then she shows a face, - Still coldly fair with unaffecting grace; - These she compares: “It has the form,” she cries, - “But wants the air, the spirit, and the eyes; - This, as a likeness, is correct and true, - But there alone the living grace we view.” - This said, th’ applauding voice the dame required, - And, gazing, slowly from the glass retired. 360 - - - - -TALE IX. - -_ARABELLA._ - - - Thrice blessed they that master so their blood-- - [. . . . . . . .] - But earthly happier is the rose distill’d, - Than that which, withering on the virgin thorn, - Grows, lives, and dies in single blessedness. - _Midsummer Night’s Dream_, Act I. Scene 1. - - I [something] do excuse the thing I hate, - For his advantage whom I dearly love. - _Measure for Measure_, Act II. Scene 4. - - Contempt, farewell! and maiden pride, adieu! - _Much Ado about Nothing_, Act III. Scene 1. - - -TALE IX. - -_ARABELLA._ - - Of a fair town, where Doctor Rack was guide, - His only daughter was the boast and pride; - Wise Arabella--yet not wise alone, - She like a bright and polish’d brilliant shone; - Her father own’d her for his prop and stay, - Able to guide, yet willing to obey; - Pleased with her learning while discourse could please, - And with her love in languor and disease. - To every mother were her virtues known, - And to their daughters as a pattern shown; 10 - Who in her youth had all that age requires, - And, with her prudence, all that youth admires. - These odious praises made the damsels try - Not to obtain such merits, but deny; - For, whatsoever wise mammas might say, - To guide a daughter this was not the way; - From such applause disdain and anger rise, - And envy lives where emulation dies. - In all his strength contends the noble horse - With one who just precedes him on the course; 20 - But when the rival flies too far before, - His spirit fails, and he attempts no more. - This reasoning maid, above her sex’s dread, - Had dared to read, and dared to say she read; - Not the last novel, not the new-born play; - Not the mere trash and scandal of the day; - But (though her young companions felt the shock) - She studied Berkeley, Bacon, Hobbes, and Locke: - Her mind within the maze of history dwelt, - And of the moral muse the beauty felt; 30 - The merits of the Roman page she knew, - And could converse with Moore and Montagu: - Thus she became the wonder of the town, - From that she reap’d, to that she gave, renown; - And strangers, coming, all were taught t’ admire - The learned lady, and the lofty spire. - Thus fame in public fix’d the maid, where all - Might throw their darts, and see the idol fall; - A hundred arrows came with vengeance keen, - From tongues envenom’d, and from arms unseen; 40 - A thousand eyes were fix’d upon the place, - That, if she fell, she might not fly disgrace. - But malice vainly throws the poison’d dart, - Unless our frailty shows the peccant part; - And Arabella still preserved her name - Untouch’d, and shone with undisputed fame; - Her very notice some respect would cause, - And her esteem was honour and applause. - Men she avoided--not in childish fear, - As if she thought some savage foe was near; 50 - Not as a prude, who hides that man should seek, - Or who by silence hints that they should speak; - But with discretion all the sex she view’d, - Ere yet engaged, pursuing, or pursued; - Ere love had made her to his vices blind, - Or hid the favourite’s failings from her mind. - Thus was the picture of the man portray’d, - By merit destined for so rare a maid; - At whose request she might exchange her state, - Or still be happy in a virgin’s fate. 60 - He must be one with manners like her own, - His life unquestion’d, his opinions known; - His stainless virtue must all tests endure, - His honour spotless, and his bosom pure; - She no allowance made for sex or times, - Of lax opinion--crimes were ever crimes; - No wretch forsaken must his frailty curse, - No spurious offspring drain his private purse: - He at all times his passions must command, - And yet possess--or be refused her hand. 70 - All this without reserve the maiden told, - And some began to weigh the rector’s gold; - To ask what sum a prudent man might gain, - Who had such store of virtues to maintain? - A Doctor Campbell, north of Tweed, came forth, - Declared his passion, and proclaim’d his worth; - Not unapproved, for he had much to say - On every cause, and in a pleasant way; - Not all his trust was in a pliant tongue, - His form was good, and ruddy he, and young. 80 - But, though the Doctor was a man of parts, - He read not deeply male or female hearts; - But judged that all whom he esteem’d as wise - Must think alike, though some assumed disguise; - That every reasoning Bramin, Christian, Jew, - Of all religions took their liberal view; - And of her own, no doubt, this learned maid - Denied the substance, and the forms obey’d; - And thus persuaded, he his thoughts express’d - Of her opinions, and his own profess’d: 90 - “All states demand this aid, the vulgar need - Their priests and pray’rs, their sermons and their creed; - And those of stronger minds should never speak - (In his opinion) what might hurt the weak. - A man may smile, but still he should attend } - His hour at church, and be the church’s friend, } - What there he thinks conceal, and what he hears commend.” } - Frank was the speech, but heard with high disdain, - Nor had the Doctor leave to speak again; - A man who own’d, nay gloried in deceit, 100 - “He might despise her, but he should not cheat.” - Then Vicar Holmes appear’d; he heard it said - That ancient men best pleased the prudent maid; - And true it was her ancient friends she loved; - Servants when old she favour’d and approved; - Age in her pious parents she revered, - And neighbours were by length of days endear’d; - But, if her husband too must ancient be, - The good old Vicar found it was not he. - On Captain Bligh her mind in balance hung-- 110 - Though valiant, modest; and reserved, though young: - Against these merits must defects be set-- - Though poor, imprudent; and though proud, in debt: - In vain the Captain close attention paid; - She found him wanting, whom she fairly weigh’d. - Then came a youth, and all their friends agreed, - That Edward Huntly was the man indeed; - Respectful duty he had paid awhile, - Then ask’d her hand, and had a gracious smile: - A lover now declared, he led the fair 120 - To woods and fields, to visits and to pray’r; - Then whisper’d softly--“Will you name the day?” - She softly whisper’d--“If you love me, stay.”-- - “Oh! try me not beyond my strength,” he cried;-- - “Oh! be not weak,” the prudent maid replied; - “But by some trial your affection prove-- - Respect and not impatience argues love; - And love no more is by impatience known, - Than Ocean’s depth is by its tempests shown. - He whom a weak and fond impatience sways, } 130 - But for himself with all his fervour prays, } - And not the maid he woos, but his own will obeys; } - And will she love the being who prefers, - With so much ardour, his desire to hers?” - Young Edward grieved, but let not grief be seen; - He knew obedience pleased his fancy’s queen: - Awhile he waited, and then cried--“Behold! - The year advancing, be no longer cold!” - For she had promised--“Let the flowers appear, - And I will pass with thee the smiling year.” 140 - Then pressing grew the youth; the more he press’d, - The less inclined the maid to his request: - “Let June arrive.”--Alas! when April came, - It brought a stranger, and the stranger, shame; - Nor could the lover from his house persuade - A stubborn lass whom he had mournful made; - Angry and weak, by thoughtless vengeance moved, - She told her story to the fair beloved; - In strongest words th’ unwelcome truth was shown, - To blight his prospects, careless of her own. 150 - Our heroine grieved, but had too firm a heart - For him to soften, when she swore to part; - In vain his seeming penitence and pray’r, - His vows, his tears: she left him in despair. - His mother fondly laid her grief aside, - And to the reason of the nymph applied-- - “It well becomes thee, lady, to appear, - But not to be, in very truth, severe; - Although the crime be odious in thy sight, - That daring sex is taught such things to slight: 160 - His heart is thine, although it once was frail; - Think of his grief, and let his love prevail!--” - “Plead thou no more,” the lofty lass return’d; - “Forgiving woman is deceived and spurn’d. - Say that the crime is common--shall I take - A common man my wedded lord to make? - See! a weak woman by his arts betray’d, - An infant born his father to upbraid; - Shall I forgive his vileness, take his name, - Sanction his error, and partake his shame? 170 - No! this assent would kindred frailty prove, - A love for him would be a vicious love: - Can a chaste maiden secret counsel hold - With one whose crime by every mouth is told? - Forbid it spirit, prudence, virtuous pride; - He must despise me, were he not denied. - The way from vice the erring mind to win } - Is with presuming sinners to begin, } - And show, by scorning them, a just contempt for sin.” } - The youth, repulsed, to one more mild convey’d 180 - His heart, and smiled on the remorseless maid; - The maid, remorseless in her pride, the while - Despised the insult, and return’d the smile. - First to admire, to praise her, and defend, - Was (now in years advanced) a virgin friend: - Much she preferr’d, she cried, a single state, - “It was her choice”--it surely was her fate; - And much it pleased her in the train to view - A maiden vot’ress, wise and lovely too. - Time to the yielding mind his change imparts, 190 - He varies notions, and he alters hearts; - ’Tis right, ’tis just to feel contempt for vice, - But he that shows it may be over-nice: - There are who feel, when young, the false sublime, - And proudly love to show disdain for crime; - To whom the future will new thoughts supply, - The pride will soften, and the scorn will die; - Nay, where they still the vice itself condemn, - They bear the vicious, and consort with them. - Young Captain Grove, when one had changed his side, 200 - Despised the venal turn-coat, and defied; - Old Colonel Grove now shakes him by the hand, - Though he who bribes may still his vote command. - Why would not Ellen to Belinda speak, - When she had flown to London for a week, - And then return’d, to every friend’s surprise, - With twice the spirit, and with half the size? - She spoke not then--but, after years had flown, - A better friend had Ellen never known: - Was it the lady her mistake had seen? 210 - Or had she also such a journey been? - No: ’twas the gradual change in human hearts, - That time, in commerce with the world, imparts; - That on the roughest temper throws disguise, - And steals from virtue her asperities. - The young and ardent, who with glowing zeal - Felt wrath for trifles, and were proud to feel, - Now find those trifles all the mind engage, - To soothe dull hours, and cheat the cares of age; - As young Zelinda, in her quaker-dress, 220 - Disdain’d each varying fashion’s vile excess, - And now her friends on old Zelinda gaze, - Pleased in rich silks and orient gems to blaze. - Changes like these ’tis folly to condemn, - So virtue yields not, nor is changed with them. - Let us proceed:--Twelve brilliant years were past, - Yet each with less of glory than the last; - Whether these years to this fair virgin gave - A softer mind--effect they often have; - Whether the virgin-state was not so bless’d 230 - As that good maiden in her zeal profess’d; - Or whether lovers falling from her train, - Gave greater price to those she could retain, - Is all unknown;--but Arabella now - Was kindly listening to a merchant’s vow; - Who offer’d terms so fair, against his love - To strive was folly; so she never strove.-- - Man in his earlier days we often find - With a too easy and unguarded mind; - But, by increasing years and prudence taught, 240 - He grows reserved, and locks up every thought. - Not thus the maiden, for in blooming youth - She hides her thought, and guards the tender truth; - This, when no longer young, no more she hides, - But frankly in the favour’d swain confides. - Man, stubborn man, is like the growing tree, - That longer standing, still will harder be; - And like its fruit the virgin, first austere, - Then kindly softening with the ripening year. - Now was the lover urgent, and the kind 250 - And yielding lady to his suit inclined: - “A little time, my friend, is just, is right; - We must be decent in our neighbours’ sight:” - Still she allow’d him of his hopes to speak, - And in compassion took off week by week; - Till few remain’d, when, wearied with delay, - She kindly meant to take off day by day. - That female friend who gave our virgin praise - For flying man and all his treacherous ways, - Now heard with mingled anger, shame and fear, 260 - Of one accepted, and a wedding near; - But she resolved again with friendly zeal - To make the maid her scorn of wedlock feel; - For she was grieved to find her work undone, - And like a sister mourn’d the failing nun. - Why are these gentle maidens prone to make - Their sister-doves the tempting world forsake? - Why all their triumph when a maid disdains - The tyrant-sex, and scorns to wear its chains? - Is it pure joy to see a sister flown 270 - From the false pleasures they themselves have known? - Or do they, as the call-birds in the cage, - Try, in pure envy, others to engage; - And therefore paint their native woods and groves, - As scenes of dangerous joys and naughty loves? - Strong was the maiden’s hope; her friend was proud, - And had her notions to the world avow’d; - And, could she find the Merchant weak and frail, - With power to prove it, then she must prevail; - For she aloud would publish his disgrace, 280 - And save his victim from a man so base. - When all inquiries had been duly made, - Came the kind friend her burthen to unlade:-- - “Alas! my dear! not all our care and art - Can tread the maze of man’s deceitful heart: - Look not surprise--nor let resentment swell - Those lovely features, all will yet be well; - And thou, from love’s and man’s deceptions free, - Wilt dwell in virgin-state, and walk to heav’n with me.” - The maiden frown’d, and then conceived “that wives 290 - Could walk as well, and lead as holy lives - As angry prudes who scorn’d the marriage-chain, - Or luckless maids who sought it still in vain.” - The friend was vex’d--she paused, at length she cried: - “Know your own danger, then your lot decide; - That traitor Beswell, while he seeks your hand, - Has, I affirm, a wanton at command; - A slave, a creature from a foreign place, - The nurse and mother of a spurious race; - Brown, ugly bastards--(Heaven the word forgive, 300 - And the deed punish!)--in his cottage live; - To town if business calls him, there he stays - In sinful pleasures wasting countless days; - Nor doubt the facts, for I can witness call - For every crime, and prove them one and all.” - Here ceased th’ informer; Arabella’s look - Was like a school-boy’s puzzled by his book; - Intent she cast her eyes upon the floor, - Paused--then replied-- - “I wish to know no more: - I question not your motive, zeal, or love, 310 - But must decline such dubious points to prove.-- - All is not true, I judge, for who can guess - Those deeds of darkness men with care suppress? - He brought a slave perhaps to England’s coast, - And made her free; it is our country’s boast! - And she perchance too grateful--good and ill - Were sown at first, and grow together still; - The colour’d infants on the village-green, - What are they more than we have often seen? - Children half-clothed who round their village stray, } 320 - In sun or rain, now starved, now beaten, they } - Will the dark colour of their fate betray; } - Let us in Christian love for all account, - And then behold to what such tales amount.” - “His heart is evil,” said th’ impatient friend-- - “My duty bids me try that heart to mend,” - Replied the virgin--“We may be too nice, - And lose a soul in our contempt of vice; - If false the charge, I then shall show regard - For a good man, and be his just reward; 330 - And what for virtue can I better do - Than to reclaim him, if the charge be true?” - She spoke, nor more her holy work delay’d; - ’Twas time to lend an erring mortal aid: - “The noblest way,” she judged, “a soul to win, } - Was with an act of kindness to begin, } - To make the sinner sure, and then t’ attack the sin[5].” } - -[5] As the author’s purpose in this Tale may be mistaken, he wishes -to observe, that conduct like that of the lady’s here described must -be meritorious or censurable just as the motives to it are pure or -selfish; that these motives may in a great measure be concealed from -the mind of the agent; and that we often take credit to our virtue -for actions which spring originally from our tempers, inclinations, -or our indifference. It cannot therefore be improper, much less -immoral, to give an instance of such self-deception. - - - - -TALE X. - -_THE LOVER’S JOURNEY._ - - - The sun is in the [heaven], and the proud day, - Attended with the pleasures of the world, - Is all too wanton. - _King John_, Act III. Scene 3. - - The lunatic, the lover, and the poet, - Are of imagination all compact. - _Midsummer Night’s Dream_, Act V. Scene 2. - - Oh! how the spring of love resembleth - Th’ uncertain glory of an April day, - Which now shows all her beauty to the sun, - And by and by a cloud bears all away. - - And happily I have arrived at last - Unto the wished haven of my bliss. - _Taming of the Shrew_, Act V. Scene 1. - - -TALE X. - -_THE LOVER’S JOURNEY._ - - It is the soul that sees; the outward eyes } - Present the object, but the mind descries; } - And thence delight, disgust, or cool indiff’rence rise: } - When minds are joyful, then we look around, - And what is seen is all on fairy ground; - Again they sicken, and on every view - Cast their own dull and melancholy hue; - Or, if absorb’d by their peculiar cares, - The vacant eye on viewless matter glares, - Our feelings still upon our views attend, 10 - And their own natures to the objects lend; - Sorrow and joy are in their influence sure, - Long as the passion reigns th’ effects endure; - But love in minds his various changes makes, - And clothes each object with the change he takes; - His light and shade on every view he throws, - And on each object, what he feels, bestows. - Fair was the morning, and the month was June, - When rose a lover; love awakens soon; - Brief his repose, yet much he dreamt the while 20 - Of that day’s meeting, and his Laura’s smile; - Fancy and love that name assign’d to her, - Call’d Susan in the parish-register; - And he no more was John--his Laura gave - The name Orlando to her faithful slave. - Bright shone the glory of the rising day, - When the fond traveller took his favourite way; - He mounted gaily, felt his bosom light, - And all he saw was pleasing in his sight. - “Ye hours of expectation, quickly fly, 30 - And bring on hours of blest reality; - When I shall Laura see, beside her stand, - Hear her sweet voice, and press her yielded hand.” - First o’er a barren heath beside the coast - Orlando rode, and joy began to boast. - “This neat low gorse,” said he, “with golden bloom, - Delights each sense, is beauty, is perfume; - And this gay ling, with all its purple flowers, - A man at leisure might admire for hours; - This green-fringed cup-moss has a scarlet tip, 40 - That yields to nothing but my Laura’s lip; - And then how fine this herbage! men may say - A heath is barren; nothing is so gay: - Barren or bare to call such charming scene - Argues a mind possess’d by care and spleen.” - Onward he went, and fiercer grew the heat, - Dust rose in clouds before the horse’s feet; - For now he pass’d through lanes of burning sand, - Bounds to thin crops or yet uncultured land; - Where the dark poppy flourished on the dry 50 - And sterile soil, and mock’d the thin-set rye. - “How lovely this!” the rapt Orlando said; - “With what delight is labouring man repaid! - The very lane has sweets that all admire, - The rambling suckling and the vigorous brier; - See! wholesome wormwood grows beside the way, - Where dew-press’d yet the dog-rose bends the spray; - Fresh herbs the fields, fair shrubs the banks adorn, - And snow-white bloom falls flaky from the thorn; - No fostering hand they need, no sheltering wall; 60 - They spring uncultured and they bloom for all.” - The lover rode as hasty lovers ride, - And reach’d a common pasture wild and wide; - Small black-legg’d sheep devour with hunger keen - The meagre herbage, fleshless, lank, and lean; - Such o’er thy level turf, Newmarket! stray, - And there, with other _black-legs_ find their prey. - He saw some scatter’d hovels; turf was piled - In square brown stacks; a prospect bleak and wild! - A mill, indeed, was in the centre found, 70 - With short sear herbage withering all around; - A smith’s black shed opposed a wright’s long shop, - And join’d an inn where humble travellers stop. - “Ay, this is Nature,” said the gentle ’squire; - “This ease, peace, pleasure--who would not admire? - With what delight these sturdy children play, - And joyful rustics at the close of day; - Sport follows labour, on this even space - Will soon commence the wrestling and the race; - Then will the village-maidens leave their home, 80 - And to the dance with buoyant spirits come; - No affectation in their looks is seen, - Nor know they what disguise or flattery mean; - Nor aught to move an envious pang they see-- - Easy their service, and their love is free; - Hence early springs that love, it long endures, - And life’s first comfort, while they live, ensures. - They the low roof and rustic comforts prize, - Nor cast on prouder mansions envying eyes; - Sometimes the news at yonder town they hear, 90 - And learn what busier mortals feel and fear; - Secure themselves, although by tales amazed - Of towns bombarded and of cities razed; - As if they doubted, in their still retreat, - The very news that makes their quiet sweet, - And their days happy--happier only knows - He on whom Laura her regard bestows.” - On rode Orlando, counting all the while - The miles he pass’d and every coming mile; - Like all attracted things, he quicker flies, 100 - The place approaching where th’ attraction lies; - When next appear’d a _dam_--so call the place-- - Where lies a road confined in narrow space; - A work of labour, for on either side } - Is level fen, a prospect wild and wide, } - With dikes on either hand by ocean’s self supplied. } - Far on the right the distant sea is seen, - And salt the springs that feed the marsh between; - Beneath an ancient bridge, the straiten’d flood - Rolls through its sloping banks of slimy mud; 110 - Near it a sunken boat resists the tide, - That frets and hurries to th’ opposing side; - The rushes sharp, that on the borders grow, } - Bend their brown flow’rets to the stream below, } - Impure in all its course, in all its progress slow: } - Here a grave Flora[6] scarcely deigns to bloom, - Nor wears a rosy blush, nor sheds perfume; - The few dull flowers that o’er the place are spread - Partake the nature of their fenny bed; - Here on its wiry stem, in rigid bloom, 120 - Grows the salt lavender that lacks perfume; - Here the dwarf sallows creep, the septfoil harsh, - And the soft slimy mallow of the marsh; - Low on the ear the distant billows sound, - And just in view appears their stony bound; - No hedge nor tree conceals the glowing sun, } - Birds, save a wat’ry tribe, the district shun, } - Nor chirp among the reeds where bitter waters run. } - “Various as beauteous, Nature, is thy face,” - Exclaim’d Orlando: “all that grows has grace; 130 - All are appropriate--bog, and marsh, and fen, - Are only poor to undiscerning men; - Here may the nice and curious eye explore - How Nature’s hand adorns the rushy moor; - Here the rare moss in secret shade is found, - Here the sweet myrtle of the shaking ground; - Beauties are these that from the view retire, - But well repay th’ attention they require; - For these my Laura will her home forsake, - And all the pleasures they afford partake.” 140 - Again the country was enclosed, a wide - And sandy road has banks on either side; - Where, lo! a hollow on the left appear’d, - And there a gipsy-tribe their tent had rear’d; - ’Twas open spread, to catch the morning sun, - And they had now their early meal begun, - When two brown boys just left their grassy seat, - The early trav’ller with their pray’rs to greet. - While yet Orlando held his pence in hand, - He saw their sister on her duty stand; 150 - Some twelve years old, demure, affected, sly, - Prepared the force of early powers to try; - Sudden a look of languor he descries, - And well-feign’d apprehension in her eyes; - Train’d but yet savage, in her speaking face - He mark’d the features of her vagrant race; - When a light laugh and roguish leer express’d - The vice implanted in her youthful breast. - Forth from the tent her elder brother came, - Who seem’d offended, yet forbore to blame 160 - The young designer, but could only trace - The looks of pity in the trav’ller’s face; - Within, the father, who from fences nigh } - Had brought the fuel for the fire’s supply, } - Watch’d now the feeble blaze, and stood dejected by; } - On ragged rug, just borrow’d from the bed, - And by the hand of coarse indulgence fed, - In dirty patchwork negligently dress’d, - Reclined the wife, an infant at her breast; - In her wild face some touch of grace remain’d, 170 - Of vigour palsied and of beauty stain’d; - Her bloodshot eyes on her unheeding mate - Were wrathful turn’d, and seem’d her wants to state, - Cursing his tardy aid--her mother there - With gipsy-state engross’d the only chair; - Solemn and dull her look; with such she stands, - And reads the milk-maid’s fortune in her hands, - Tracing the lines of life; assumed through years, - Each feature now the steady falsehood wears; - With hard and savage eye she views the food, 180 - And, grudging, pinches their intruding brood; - Last in the group, the worn-out grandsire sits - Neglected, lost, and living but by fits; - Useless, despised, his worthless labours done, - And half protected by the vicious son, - Who half supports him; he with heavy glance - Views the young ruffians who around him dance; - And, by the sadness in his face, appears - To trace the progress of their future years: - Through what strange course of misery, vice, deceit, 190 - Must wildly wander each unpractised cheat! - What shame and grief, what punishment and pain, - Sport of fierce passions, must each child sustain-- - Ere they like him approach their latter end, - Without a hope, a comfort, or a friend! - But this Orlando felt not; “Rogues,” said he, - “Doubtless they are, but merry rogues they be; - They wander round the land, and be it true, - They break the laws--then let the laws pursue - The wanton idlers; for the life they live, 200 - Acquit I cannot, but I can forgive.” - This said, a portion from his purse was thrown, - And every heart seem’d happy like his own. - He hurried forth, for now the town was nigh-- - “The happiest man of mortal men am I.” - Thou art! but change in every state is near, - (So, while the wretched hope, the blest may fear); - “Say, where is Laura!”--“That her words must show,” - A lass replied; “read this, and thou shalt know!” - “What, gone!”--Her friend insisted--forced to go-- 210 - Is vex’d, was teased, could not refuse her!--“No?”-- - “But you can follow;”--“Yes;”--“The miles are few, - The way is pleasant; will you come?--Adieu! - Thy Laura!” “No! I feel I must resign - The pleasing hope; thou hadst been here, if mine. - A lady was it?--Was no brother there? - But why should I afflict me if there were? - ‘The way is pleasant.’”--What to me the way? - I cannot reach her till the close of day. - My dumb companion! is it thus we speed? 220 - Not I from grief nor thou from toil art freed; - Still art thou doom’d to travel and to pine, - For my vexation--What a fate is mine! - “Gone to a friend, she tells me; I commend - Her purpose; means she to a female friend? - By Heaven, I wish she suffer’d half the pain - Of hope protracted through the day in vain: - Shall I persist to see th’ ungrateful maid? - Yes, I will see her, slight her, and upbraid. - What! in the very hour? She knew the time, 230 - And doubtless chose it to increase her crime.” - Forth rode Orlando by a river’s side, } - Inland and winding, smooth, and full and wide, } - That roll’d majestic on, in one soft-flowing tide; } - The bottom gravel, flow’ry were the banks, - Tall willows, waving in their broken ranks; - The road, now near, now distant, winding led - By lovely meadows which the waters fed; - He pass’d the way-side inn, the village spire, - Nor stopp’d to gaze, to question, or admire; 240 - On either side the rural mansions stood, } - With hedge-row trees, and hills high-crown’d with wood, } - And many a devious stream that reach’d the nobler flood. } - “I hate these scenes,” Orlando angry cried, - “And these proud farmers! yes, I hate their pride. - See! that sleek fellow, how he strides along, - Strong as an ox, and ignorant as strong; - Can yon close crops a single eye detain - But his who counts the profits of the grain? - And these vile beans with deleterious smell, 250 - Where is their beauty? can a mortal tell? - These deep fat meadows I detest; it shocks - One’s feelings there to see the grazing ox-- - For slaughter fatted, as a lady’s smile - Rejoices man, and means his death the while. - Lo! now the sons of labour! every day - Employ’d in toil, and vex’d in every way; - Theirs is but mirth assumed, and they conceal, - In their affected joys, the ills they feel: - I hate these long green lanes; there’s nothing seen 260 - In this vile country but eternal green; - Woods! waters! meadows! Will they never end? - ’Tis a vile prospect.--Gone to see a friend!”-- - Still on he rode! a mansion fair and tall - Rose on his view--the pride of Loddon-Hall: - Spread o’er the park he saw the grazing steer, - The full-fed steed, the herds of bounding deer; - On a clear stream the vivid sunbeams play’d, } - Through noble elms, and on the surface made } - That moving picture, checker’d light and shade; } 270 - Th’ attended children, there indulged to stray, - Enjoy’d and gave new beauty to the day; - Whose happy parents from their room were seen - Pleased with the sportive idlers on the green. - “Well!” said Orlando, “and for one so bless’d, } - A thousand reasoning wretches are distress’d; } - Nay, these so seeming glad, are grieving like the rest: } - Man is a cheat--and all but strive to hide - Their inward misery by their outward pride. - What do yon lofty gates and walls contain, 280 - But fruitless means to soothe unconquer’d pain? - The parents read each infant daughter’s smile, - Form’d to seduce, encouraged to beguile; - They view the boys unconscious of their fate, - Sure to be tempted, sure to take the bait; - These will be Lauras, sad Orlandos these-- - There’s guilt and grief in all one hears and sees.” - Our trav’ller, lab’ring up a hill, look’d down - Upon a lively, busy, pleasant town; - All he beheld were there alert, alive, 290 - The busiest bees that ever stock’d a hive: - A pair were married, and the bells aloud - Proclaim’d their joy, and joyful seem’d the crowd; - And now proceeding on his way, he spied, - Bound by strong ties, the bridegroom and the bride; - Each by some friends attended, near they drew, - And spleen beheld them with prophetic view. - “Married! nay, mad!” Orlando cried in scorn; - “Another wretch on this unlucky morn! - What are this foolish mirth, these idle joys? 300 - Attempts to stifle doubt and fear by noise: - To me these robes, expressive of delight, - Foreshow distress, and only grief excite; - And for these cheerful friends, will they behold - Their wailing brood in sickness, want, and cold; - And his proud look, and her soft languid air - Will--but I spare you--go, unhappy pair!” - And now approaching to the journey’s end, } - His anger fails, his thoughts to kindness tend, } - He less offended feels, and rather fears t’ offend: } 310 - Now gently rising, hope contends with doubt, - And casts a sunshine on the views without; - And still reviving joy and lingering gloom - Alternate empire o’er his soul assume; - Till, long perplex’d, he now began to find - The softer thoughts engross the settling mind. - He saw the mansion, and should quickly see - His Laura’s self--and angry could he be? - No! the resentment melted all away-- - “For this my grief a single smile will pay,” 320 - Our trav’ller cried;--“And why should it offend, - That one so good should have a pressing friend? - Grieve not, my heart! to find a favourite guest } - Thy pride and boast--ye selfish sorrows, rest; } - She will be kind, and I again be blest.” } - While gentler passions thus his bosom sway’d, - He reach’d the mansion, and he saw the maid; - “My Laura!”--“My Orlando!--this is kind; - In truth I came persuaded, not inclined. - Our friends’ amusement let us now pursue, 330 - And I to-morrow will return with you.” - Like man entranced, the happy lover stood-- - “As Laura wills, for she is kind and good; - Ever the truest, gentlest, fairest, best-- - As Laura wills, I see her and am blest.” - Home went the lovers through that busy place, - By Loddon-Hall, the country’s pride and grace; - By the rich meadows where the oxen fed, - Through the green vale that form’d the river’s bed; - And by unnumber’d cottages and farms, 340 - That have for musing minds unnumber’d charms, - And how affected by the view of these - Was then Orlando--did they pain or please? - Nor pain nor pleasure could they yield--and why? } - The mind was fill’d, was happy, and the eye } - Roved o’er the fleeting views, that but appear’d to die. } - Alone Orlando on the morrow paced - The well-known road; the [gipsy]-tent he traced; - The dam high-raised, the reedy dikes between, - The scatter’d hovels on the barren green, 350 - The burning sand, the fields of thin-set rye, - Mock’d by the useless Flora, blooming by; - And last the heath with all its various bloom, - And the close lanes that led the trav’ller home. - Then could these scenes the former joys renew? - Or was there now dejection in the view?-- - Nor one or other would they yield--and why? } - The mind was absent, and the vacant eye } - Wander’d o’er viewless scenes, that but appear’d to die. } - -[6] The ditches of a fen so near the ocean are lined with irregular -patches of a coarse and stained lava; a muddy sediment rests on the -horse-tail and other perennial herbs, which in part conceal the -shallowness of the stream; a fat-leaved pale-flowering scurvy-grass -appears early in the year, and the razor-edged bull-rush in the -summer and autumn. The fen itself has a dark and saline herbage; -there are rushes and _arrow-head_, and in a few patches the flakes -of the cotton-grass are seen, but more commonly the _sea-aster_, -the dullest of that numerous and hardy genus; a _thrift_, blue in -flower, but withering and remaining withered till the winter scatters -it; the _saltwort_, both simple and shrubby; a few kinds of grass -changed by their soil and atmosphere, and low plants of two or three -denominations undistinguished in a general view of the scenery;--such -is the vegetation of the fen when it is at a small distance from -the ocean; and in this case there arise from it effluvia strong and -peculiar, half-saline, half-putrid, which would be considered by most -people as offensive, and by some as dangerous; but there are others -to whom singularity of taste or association of ideas has rendered it -agreeable and pleasant. - - - - -TALE XI. - -_EDWARD SHORE._ - - - Seem they grave or learned? - Why, so didst thou [. . . . . . - . . . . . .] seem they religious? - Why, so didst thou; or are they spare in diet, - Free from gross passion or of mirth or anger, - Constant in spirit, not swerving with the blood, - Garnish’d and deck’d in modest compliment, - Not working with the eye without the ear, - And but [in] purged judgment trusting neither? - Such and so finely bolted didst thou seem. - _Henry V_. Act II. Scene 2. - - Better I were distract: - So should my thoughts be sever’d from my griefs, - And woes by strong imagination lose - The knowledge of themselves. - _Lear_, Act IV. Scene 6. - - -TALE XI. - -_EDWARD SHORE._ - - Genius! thou gift of Heav’n! thou light divine! - Amid what dangers art thou doom’d to shine! - Oft will the body’s weakness check thy force, - Oft damp thy vigour, and impede thy course; - And trembling nerves compel thee to restrain - Thy nobler efforts, to contend with pain; - Or Want (sad guest!) will in thy presence come, - And breathe around her melancholy gloom; - To life’s low cares will thy proud thought confine, - And make her sufferings, her impatience, thine. 10 - Evil and strong, seducing passions prey - On soaring minds, and win them from their way; - Who then to vice the subject spirits give, - And in the service of the conqu’ror live; - Like captive Samson making sport for all, - Who fear’d their strength, and glory in their fall. - Genius, with virtue, still may lack the aid - Implored by humble minds and hearts afraid; - May leave to timid souls the shield and sword - Of the tried faith, and the resistless word; 20 - Amid a world of dangers venturing forth, - Frail, but yet fearless, proud in conscious worth, - Till strong temptation, in some fatal time, - Assails the heart, and wins the soul to crime; - When, left by honour, and by sorrow spent, - Unused to pray, unable to repent, - The nobler powers that once exalted high - Th’ aspiring man, shall then degraded lie: - Reason, through anguish, shall her throne forsake, - And strength of mind but stronger madness make. 30 - When EDWARD SHORE had reach’d his twentieth year, - He felt his bosom light, his conscience clear; - Applause at school the youthful hero gain’d, - And trials there with manly strength sustain’d; - With prospects bright upon the world he came, - Pure love of virtue, strong desire of fame; - Men watch’d the way his lofty mind would take, - And all foretold the progress he would make. - Boast of these friends, to older men a guide, - Proud of his parts, but gracious in his pride; 40 - He bore a gay good-nature in his face, - And in his air were dignity and grace; - Dress that became his state and years he wore, - And sense and spirit shone in Edward Shore. - Thus while admiring friends the youth beheld, - His own disgust their forward hopes repell’d; - For he unfix’d, unfixing, look’d around, - And no employment but in seeking found; - He gave his restless thoughts to views refined, - And shrank from worldly cares with wounded mind. 50 - Rejecting trade, awhile he dwelt on laws, - “But who could plead, if unapproved the cause?” - A doubting, dismal tribe physicians seem’d; - Divines o’er texts and disputations dream’d; - War and its glory he perhaps could love, - But there again he must the cause approve. - Our hero thought no deed should gain applause, - Where timid virtue found support in laws; - He to all good would soar, would fly all sin, - By the pure prompting of the will within; 60 - “Who needs a law that binds him not to steal,” - Ask’d the young teacher, “can he rightly feel? - To curb the will, or arm in honour’s cause, - Or aid the weak--are these enforced by laws? - Should we a foul, ungenerous action dread, - Because a law condemns th’ adulterous bed? - Or fly pollution, not for fear of stain, - But that some statute tells us to refrain? - The grosser herd in ties like these we bind, - In virtue’s freedom moves th’ enlighten’d mind.” 70 - “Man’s heart deceives him,” said a friend. “Of course,” - Replied the youth, “but, has it power to force? - Unless it forces, call it as you will, - It is but wish, and proneness to the ill.” - “Art thou not tempted?” “Do I fall?” said Shore: - “The pure have fallen.”--“Then are pure no more. - While reason guides me, I shall walk aright, - Nor need a steadier hand, or stronger light; - Nor this in dread of awful threats, design’d - For the weak spirit and the grov’ling mind, 80 - But that, engaged by thoughts and views sublime, - I wage free war with grossness and with crime.” - Thus look’d he proudly on the vulgar crew, - Whom statutes govern, and whom fears subdue. - Faith, with his virtue, he indeed profess’d, - But doubts deprived his ardent mind of rest; - Reason, his sovereign mistress, fail’d to show - Light through the mazes of the world below; - Questions arose, and they surpass’d the skill - Of his sole aid, and would be dubious still; 90 - These to discuss he sought no common guide, - But to the doubters in his doubts applied; - When all together might in freedom speak, - And their loved truth with mutual ardour seek. - Alas! though men who feel their eyes decay - Take more than common pains to find their way, - Yet, when for this they ask each other’s aid, - Their mutual purpose is the more delay’d: - Of all their doubts, their reasoning clear’d not one, - Still the same spots were present in the sun; 100 - Still the same scruples haunted Edward’s mind, - Who found no rest, nor took the means to find. - But though with shaken faith, and slave to fame, - Vain and aspiring on the world he came; - Yet was he studious, serious, moral, grave, - No passion’s victim, and no system’s slave; - Vice he opposed, indulgence he disdain’d, - And o’er each sense in conscious triumph reign’d. - Who often reads, will sometimes wish to write, - And Shore would yield instruction and delight: 110 - A serious drama he design’d, but found - ’Twas tedious travelling in that gloomy ground; - A deep and solemn story he would try, - But grew ashamed of ghosts, and laid it by; - Sermons he wrote, but they who knew his creed, - Or knew it not, were ill disposed to read; - And he would lastly be the nation’s guide, - But, studying, fail’d to fix upon a side; - Fame he desired, and talents he possess’d, - But loved not labour, though he could not rest, 120 - Nor firmly fix the vacillating mind, - That, ever working, could no centre find. - ’Tis thus a sanguine reader loves to trace - The Nile forth rushing on his glorious race; - Calm and secure the fancied traveller goes - Through sterile deserts and by threat’ning foes; - He thinks not then of Afric’s scorching sands, - Th’ Arabian sea, the Abyssinian bands; - Fasils[7] and Michaels, and the robbers all, - Whom we politely chiefs and heroes call: 130 - He of success alone delights to think, } - He views that fount, he stands upon the brink, } - And drinks a fancied draught, exulting so to drink. } - In his own room, and with his books around, - His lively mind its chief employment found; - Then idly busy, quietly employ’d, - And, lost to life, his visions were enjoy’d; - Yet still he took a keen inquiring view - Of all that crowds neglect, desire, pursue; - And thus abstracted, curious, still, serene, 140 - He, unemploy’d, beheld life’s shifting scene; - Still more averse from vulgar joys and cares, - Still more unfitted for the world’s affairs. - There was a house where Edward oft-times went, - And social hours in pleasant trifling spent; - He read, conversed and reason’d, sang and play’d, - And all were happy while the idler stay’d; - Too happy one, for thence arose the pain, - Till this engaging trifler came again. - But did he love? We answer, day by day, 150 - The loving feet would take th’ accustom’d way; - The amorous eye would rove as if in quest - Of something rare, and on the mansion rest; - The same soft passion touch’d the gentle tongue, - And Anna’s charms in tender notes were sung; - The ear too seem’d to feel the common flame, - Sooth’d and delighted with the fair one’s name; - And thus as love each other part possess’d, - The heart, no doubt, its sovereign power confess’d. - Pleased in her sight, the youth required no more; 160 - Not rich himself, he saw the damsel poor; - And he too wisely, nay, too kindly loved, - To pain the being whom his soul approved. - A serious friend our cautious youth possess’d, - And at his table sat a welcome guest; - Both unemploy’d, it was their chief delight - To read what free and daring authors write; - Authors who loved from common views to soar, - And seek the fountains never traced before; - Truth they profess’d, yet often left the true 170 - And beaten prospect, for the wild and new. - His chosen friend his fiftieth year had seen, - His fortune easy, and his air serene; - Deist and atheist call’d; for few agreed - What were his notions, principles, or creed; - His mind reposed not, for he hated rest, - But all things made a query or a jest; - Perplex’d himself, he ever sought to prove - That man is doom’d in endless doubt to rove; - Himself in darkness he profess’d to be, 180 - And would maintain that not a man could see. - The youthful friend, dissentient, reason’d still - Of the soul’s prowess, and the subject will; - Of virtue’s beauty, and of honour’s force, - And a warm zeal gave life to his discourse; - Since from his feelings all his fire arose, - And he had interest in the themes he chose. - The friend, indulging a sarcastic smile, - Said--“Dear enthusiast! thou wilt change thy style, - When man’s delusions, errors, crimes, deceit, 190 - No more distress thee, and no longer cheat.” - Yet lo! this cautious man, so coolly wise, - On a young beauty fix’d unguarded eyes; - And her he married. Edward at the view - Bade to his cheerful visits long adieu; - But haply err’d, for this engaging bride - No mirth suppress’d, but rather cause supplied; - And, when she saw the friends, by reasoning long, - Confused if right, and positive if wrong, - With playful speech and smile, that spoke delight, 200 - She made them careless both of wrong and right. - This gentle damsel gave consent to wed, - With school and school-day dinners in her head: - She now was promised choice of daintiest food, - And costly dress, that made her sovereign good; - With walks on hilly heath to banish spleen, - And summer-visits when the roads were clean. - All these she loved, to these she gave consent, - And she was married to her heart’s content. - Their manner this--the friends together read, 210 - Till books a cause for disputation bred; - Debate then follow’d, and the vapour’d child - Declared they argued till her head was wild; - And strange to her it was that mortal brain - Could seek the trial, or endure the pain. - Then, as the friend reposed, the younger pair - Sat down to cards, and play’d beside his chair; - Till he, awaking, to his books applied, - Or heard the music of th’ obedient bride. - If mild the evening, in the fields they stray’d, 220 - And their own flock with partial eye survey’d; - But oft the husband, to indulgence prone, - Resumed his book, and bade them walk alone. - “Do, my kind Edward! I must take mine ease, - Name the dear girl the planets and the trees; - Tell her what warblers pour their evening song, - What insects flutter, as you walk along; - Teach her to fix the roving thoughts, to bind - The wandering sense, and methodize the mind.” - This was obey’d; and oft when this was done, 230 - They calmly gazed on the declining sun; - In silence saw the glowing landscape fade, - Or, sitting, sang beneath the arbour’s shade: - Till rose the moon, and on each youthful face - Shed a soft beauty, and a dangerous grace. - When the young wife beheld in long debate - The friends, all careless as she seeming sate; - It soon appear’d, there was in one combined - The nobler person and the richer mind: - He wore no wig, no grisly beard was seen, 240 - And none beheld him careless or unclean; - Or watch’d him sleeping--we indeed have heard - Of sleeping beauty, and it has appear’d; - ’Tis seen in infants; there indeed we find - The features soften’d by the slumbering mind-- - But other beauties, when disposed to sleep, - Should from the eye of keen inspector keep: - The lovely nymph who would her swain surprise, - May close her mouth, but not conceal her eyes; - Sleep from the fairest face some beauty takes, 250 - And all the homely features homelier makes; - So thought our wife, beholding with a sigh - Her sleeping spouse, and Edward smiling by. - A sick relation for the husband sent; - Without delay the friendly sceptic went; - Nor fear’d the youthful pair, for he had seen - The wife untroubled, and the friend serene; - No selfish purpose in his roving eyes, - No vile deception in her fond replies: - So judged the husband, and with judgment true, 260 - For neither yet the guilt or danger knew. - What now remain’d? but they again should play - Th’ accustom’d game, and walk th’ accustom’d way; - With careless freedom should converse or read, - And the friend’s absence neither fear nor heed. - But rather now they seem’d confused, constrain’d; } - Within their room still restless they remain’d, } - And painfully they felt, and knew each other pain’d.-- } - Ah! foolish men! how could ye thus depend, - One on himself, the other on his friend? 270 - The youth with troubled eye the lady saw, - Yet felt too brave, too daring to withdraw; - While she, with tuneless hand the jarring keys - Touching, was not one moment at her ease. - Now would she walk, and call her friendly guide, - Now speak of rain, and cast her cloak aside; - Seize on a book, unconscious what she read, - And restless still, to new resources fled; - Then laugh’d aloud, then tried to look serene, - And ever changed, and every change was seen. 280 - Painful it is to dwell on deeds of shame-- - The trying day was past, another came; - The third was all remorse, confusion, dread, - And (all too late!) the fallen hero fled. - Then felt the youth, in that seducing time, - How feebly honour guards the heart from crime: - Small is his native strength; man needs the stay, - The strength imparted in the trying day; - For all that honour brings against the force - Of headlong passion, aids its rapid course; 290 - Its slight resistance but provokes the fire, - As wood-work stops the flame, and then conveys it higher. - The husband came; a wife by guilt made bold - Had, meeting, sooth’d him, as in days of old; - But soon this fact transpired; her strong distress, - And his friend’s absence, left him nought to guess. - Still cool, though grieved, thus prudence bade him write-- - “I cannot pardon, and I will not fight; - Thou art too poor a culprit for the laws, - And I too faulty to support my cause. 300 - All must be punish’d; I must sigh alone, - At home thy victim for her guilt atone; - And thou, unhappy! virtuous now no more, - Must loss of fame, peace, purity deplore; - Sinners with praise will pierce thee to the heart, - And saints deriding, tell thee what thou art.” - Such was his fall; and Edward, from that time, - Felt in full force the censure and the crime-- - Despised, ashamed; his noble views before, - And his proud thoughts, degraded him the more. 310 - Should he repent--would that conceal his shame? - Could peace be his? It perish’d with his fame. - Himself he scorn’d, nor could his crime forgive; - He fear’d to die, yet felt ashamed to live; - Grieved, but not contrite was his heart--oppress’d, - Not broken; not converted, but distress’d; - He wanted will to bend the stubborn knee, } - He wanted light the cause of ill to see, } - To learn how frail is man, how humble then should be; } - For faith he had not, or a faith too weak 320 - To gain the help that humbled sinners seek; - Else had he pray’d--to an offended God - His tears had flown a penitential flood; - Though far astray, he would have heard the call - Of mercy--“Come! return, thou prodigal;” - Then, though confused, distress’d, ashamed, afraid, - Still had the trembling penitent obey’d; - Though faith had fainted, when assail’d by fear, - Hope to the soul had whisper’d, “Persevere!” - Till, in his Father’s house an humbled guest, 330 - He would have found forgiveness, comfort, rest. - But all this joy was to our youth denied - By his fierce passions and his daring pride; - And shame and doubt impell’d him in a course, - Once so abhorr’d, with unresisted force. - Proud minds and guilty, whom their crimes oppress, - Fly to new crimes for comfort and redress; - So found our fallen youth a short relief - In wine, the opiate guilt applies to grief-- - From fleeting mirth that o’er the bottle lives; 340 - From the false joy its inspiration gives; - And from associates, pleased to find a friend - With powers to lead them, gladden, and defend, - In all those scenes where transient ease is found - For minds whom sins oppress, and sorrows wound. - Wine is like anger; for it makes us strong, - Blind and impatient, and it leads us wrong; } - The strength is quickly lost, we feel the error long. } - Thus led, thus strengthen’d in an evil cause, } - For folly pleading, sought the youth applause; 350 - Sad for a time, then eloquently wild, - He gaily spoke as his companions smiled; - Lightly he rose, and with his former grace - Proposed some doubt, and argued on the case; - Fate and fore-knowledge were his favourite themes-- - How vain man’s purpose, how absurd his schemes: - “Whatever is, was ere our birth decreed; } - We think our actions from ourselves proceed, } - And idly we lament th’ inevitable deed; } - It seems our own, but there’s a power above 360 - Directs the motion, nay, that makes us move; - Nor good nor evil can you beings name, - Who are but rooks and castles in the game; - Superior natures with their puppets play, - Till, bagg’d or buried, all are swept away.” - Such were the notions of a mind to ill - Now prone, but ardent and determined still. - Of joy now eager, as before of fame, - And screen’d by folly when assail’d by shame, - Deeply he sank; obey’d each passion’s call, 370 - And used his reason to defend them all. - Shall I proceed, and step by step relate - The odious progress of a sinner’s fate? - No--let me rather hasten to the time - (Sure to arrive) when misery waits on crime. - With virtue, prudence fled; what Shore possess’d - Was sold, was spent, and he was now distress’d; - And Want, unwelcome stranger, pale and wan, - Met with her haggard looks the hurried man; - His pride felt keenly what he must expect 380 - From useless pity and from cold neglect. - Struck by new terrors, from his friends he fled, - And wept his woes upon a restless bed; - Retiring late, at early hour to rise, - With shrunken features, and with bloodshot eyes. - If sleep one moment closed the dismal view, - Fancy her terrors built upon the true; - And night and day had their alternate woes, - That baffled pleasure, and that mock’d repose; - Till to despair and anguish was consign’d 390 - The wreck and ruin of a noble mind. - Now seized for debt, and lodged within a jail, - He tried his friendships, and he found them fail; - Then fail’d his spirits, and his thoughts were all - Fix’d on his sins, his sufferings, and his fall. - His ruffled mind was pictured in his face, - Once the fair seat of dignity and grace; - Great was the danger of a man so prone - To think of madness, and to think alone; - Yet pride still lived, and struggled to sustain 400 - The drooping spirit and the roving brain; - But this too fail’d: a friend his freedom gave, - And sent him help the threat’ning world to brave; - Gave solid counsel what to seek or flee, - But still would stranger to his person be: - In vain! the truth determined to explore, - He traced the friend whom he had wrong’d before. - This was too much; both aided and advised - By one who shunn’d him, pitied, and despised, - He bore it not; ’twas a deciding stroke, 410 - And on his reason like a torrent broke: - In dreadful stillness he appear’d awhile, - With vacant horror and a ghastly smile; - Then rose at once into the frantic rage, - That force controll’d not, nor could love assuage. - Friends now appear’d, but in the man was seen - The angry maniac, with vindictive mien; - Too late their pity gave to care and skill - The hurried mind and ever-wandering will; - Unnoticed pass’d all time, and not a ray 420 - Of reason broke on his benighted way; - But now he spurn’d the straw in pure disdain, - And now laugh’d loudly at the clinking chain. - Then, as its wrath subsided, by degrees - The mind sank slowly to infantine ease; - To playful folly, and to causeless joy, - Speech without aim, and without end, employ; - He drew fantastic figures on the wall, - And gave some wild relation of them all; - With brutal shape he join’d the human face, 430 - And idiot smiles approved the motley race. - Harmless at length th’ unhappy man was found, - The spirit settled, but the reason drown’d; - And all the dreadful tempest died away, - To the dull stillness of the misty day. - And now his freedom he attain’d--if free, - The lost to reason, truth, and hope, can be; - His friends, or wearied with the charge, or sure - The harmless wretch was now beyond a cure, - Gave him to wander where he pleased, and find 440 - His own resources for the eager mind; - The playful children of the place he meets, - Playful with them he rambles through the streets; - In all they need, his stronger arm he lends, - And his lost mind to these approving friends. - That gentle maid, whom once the youth had loved, - Is now with mild religious pity moved; - Kindly she chides his boyish flights, while he - Will for a moment fix’d and pensive be; - And, as she trembling speaks, his lively eyes 450 - Explore her looks, he listens to her sighs; - Charm’d by her voice, th’ harmonious sounds invade - His clouded mind, and for a time persuade: - Like a pleased infant, who has newly caught - From the maternal glance a gleam of thought; - He stands enrapt, the half-known voice to hear, - And starts, half-conscious, at the falling tear. - Rarely from town, nor then unwatch’d, he goes, - In darker mood, as if to hide his woes; - Returning soon, he with impatience seeks 460 - His youthful friends, and shouts, and sings, and speaks; - Speaks a wild speech with action all as wild-- - The children’s leader, and himself a child; - He spins their top, or, at their bidding, bends - His back, while o’er it leap his laughing friends; - Simple and weak, he acts the boy once more, - And heedless children call him Silly Shore. - -[7] Fasil was a rebel chief, and Michael the general of the royal -army in Abyssinia, when Mr. Bruce visited that country. In all -other respects their characters were nearly similar. They are both -represented as cruel and treacherous; and even the apparently strong -distinction of loyal and rebellious is in a great measure set aside, -when we are informed that Fasil was an open enemy, and Michael an -insolent and ambitious controller of the royal person and family. - - -TALE XII. - -_’SQUIRE THOMAS_; OR, THE PRECIPITATE CHOICE. - - Such smiling rogues as these, - Like rats, oft bite the holy cords in twain, - Too intrinsicate t’ unloose---- - _Lear_, Act II. Scene 2. - - My other self, my counsel’s consistory, - My oracle, my prophet, . . . - I as a child will go by thy direction. - _Richard III_. Act II. Scene 2. - -If I do not have pity [of] her, I’m a villain; if I do not love her, -I am a Jew. - _Much Ado about Nothing_, Act II. Scene 3. - - Women are soft, mild, [pitiful and] flexible; - [Thou stern,] obdurate, flinty, rough, remorseless. - 3 _Henry VI_. Act I. Scene 4. - - He must be told of it, and he shall; the office - Becomes a woman best; I’ll take it upon me; - If I prove honey-mouth’d, let my tongue blister. - _Winter’s Tale_, Act II. Scene 2. - - Disguise--I see thou art a wickedness. - _Twelfth Night_, Act II. Scene 2. - - - - -TALE XII. - -_’SQUIRE THOMAS_. - - - ’Squire Thomas flatter’d long a wealthy aunt, - Who left him all that she could give or grant: - Ten years he tried, with all his craft and skill, - To fix the sovereign lady’s varying will; - Ten years enduring at her board to sit, - He meekly listen’d to her tales and wit; - He took the meanest office man can take, - And his aunt’s vices for her money’s sake. - By many a threat’ning hint she waked his fear, - And he was pain’d to see a rival near; 10 - Yet all the taunts of her contemptuous pride - He bore, nor found his grov’ling spirit tried; - Nay, when she wish’d his parents to traduce, - Fawning he smiled, and justice call’d th’ abuse; - “They taught you nothing; are you not, at best,” } - Said the proud dame, “a trifler, and a jest? } - Confess you are a fool!”--he bow’d, and he confess’d. } - This vex’d him much, but could not always last: - The dame is buried, and the trial past. - There was a female, who had courted long 20 - Her cousin’s gifts, and deeply felt the wrong; - By a vain boy forbidden to attend - The private councils of her wealthy friend, - She vow’d revenge, nor should that crafty boy - In triumph undisturb’d his spoils enjoy; - He heard, he smiled, and when the will was read, - Kindly dismiss’d the kindred of the dead; - “The dear deceased,” he call’d her, and the crowd - Moved off with curses deep and threat’nings loud. - The youth retired, and, with a mind at ease, 30 - Found he was rich, and fancied he must please. - He might have pleased, and to his comfort found - The wife he wish’d, if he had sought around; - For there were lasses of his own degree, - With no more hatred to the state than he; - But he had courted spleen and age so long, - His heart refused to woo the fair and young; - So long attended on caprice and whim, - He thought attention now was due to him; - And as his flattery pleased the wealthy dame, 40 - Heir to the wealth he might the flattery claim; - But this the fair with one accord denied, - Nor waved for man’s caprice the sex’s pride. - There is a season when to them is due - Worship and awe, and they will claim it too: - “Fathers,” they cry, “long hold us in their chain, - Nay, tyrant brothers claim a right to reign; - Uncles and guardians we in turn obey, - And husbands rule with ever-during sway; - Short is the time when lovers at the feet 50 - Of beauty kneel, and own the slavery sweet; - And shall we this our triumph, this the aim - And boast of female power, forbear to claim? - No! we demand that homage, that respect, - Or the proud rebel punish and reject.” - Our hero, still too indolent, too nice - To pay for beauty the accustom’d price, - No less forbore t’ address the humbler maid, - Who might have yielded with the price unpaid; - But lived, himself to humour and to please, 60 - To count his money, and enjoy his ease. - It pleased a neighbouring ’squire to recommend - A faithful youth, as servant to his friend; - Nay, more than servant, whom he praised for parts - Ductile yet strong, and for the best of hearts; - One who might ease him in his small affairs, - With tenants, tradesmen, taxes, and repairs; - Answer his letters, look to all his dues, - And entertain him with discourse and news. - The ’squire believed, and found the trusted youth 70 - A very pattern for his care and truth; - Not for his virtues to be praised alone, - But for a modest mien and humble tone; - Assenting always, but as if he meant - Only to strength of reasons to assent: - For was he stubborn, and retain’d his doubt, - Till the more subtle ’squire had forced it out; - Nay, still was right, but he perceived that strong - And powerful minds could make the right the wrong. - When the ’squire’s thoughts on some fair damsel dwelt, 80 - The faithful friend his apprehensions felt; - It would rejoice his faithful heart to find - A lady suited to his master’s mind; - But who deserved that master? who would prove - That hers was pure, uninterested love? - Although a servant, he would scorn to take - A countess, till she suffer’d for his sake; - Some tender spirit, humble, faithful, true, - Such, my dear master! must be sought for you. - Six months had pass’d, and not a lady seen, 90 - With just this love, ’twixt fifty and fifteen; - All seem’d his doctrine or his pride to shun, - All would be woo’d, before they would be won; - When the chance naming of a race and fair - Our ’squire disposed to take his pleasure there. - The friend profess’d, “although he first began - To hint the thing, it seem’d a thoughtless plan: - The roads, he fear’d, were foul, the days were short, - The village far, and yet there might be sport.” - “What! you of roads and starless nights afraid? 100 - You think to govern! you to be obey’d!” - Smiling he spoke; the humble friend declared - His soul’s obedience, and to go prepared. - The place was distant, but with great delight - They saw a race, and hail’d the glorious sight: - The ’squire exulted, and declared the ride - Had amply paid, and he was satisfied. - They gazed, they feasted, and, in happy mood, - Homeward return’d, and hastening as they rode; - For short the day, and sudden was the change 110 - From light to darkness, and the way was strange; - Our hero soon grew peevish, then distress’d; - He dreaded darkness, and he sigh’d for rest: - Going, they pass’d a village; but, alas! - Returning saw no village to repass; - The ’squire remember’d too a noble hall, - Large as a church, and whiter than its wall: - This he had noticed as they rode along, - And justly reason’d that their road was wrong. - George, full of awe, was modest in reply-- 120 - “The fault was his, ’twas folly to deny; - And of his master’s safety were he sure, - There was no grievance he would not endure.” - This made his peace with the relenting ’squire, - Whose thoughts yet dwelt on supper and a fire; - When, as they reach’d a long and pleasant green, - Dwellings of men, and next a man, were seen. - “My friend,” said George, “to travellers astray - Point out an inn, and guide us on the way.” - The man look’d up; “Surprising! can it be 130 - My master’s son? as I’m alive, ’tis he.” - “How! Robin,” George replied, “and are we near - My father’s house? how strangely things appear!-- - Dear sir, though wanderers, we at last are right: - Let us proceed, and glad my father’s sight; - We shall at least be fairly lodged and fed, - I can ensure a supper and a bed; - Let us this night, as one of pleasure date, - And of surprise: it is an act of fate.” - “Go on,” the ’squire in happy temper cried; 140 - “I like such blunder! I approve such guide.” - They ride, they halt; the farmer comes in haste; - Then tells his wife how much their house is graced; - They bless the chance, they praise the lucky son, - That caused the error.--Nay! it was not one, - But their good fortune--Cheerful grew the ’squire, - Who found dependants, flattery, wine, and fire; - He heard the jack turn round; the busy dame } - Produced her damask; and with supper came } - The daughter, dress’d with care, and full of } - maiden-shame. } 150 - Surprised, our hero saw the air and dress, - And strove his admiration to express; - Nay! felt it too--for Harriot was, in truth, - A tall fair beauty in the bloom of youth; - And, from the pleasure and surprise, a grace - Adorn’d the blooming damsel’s form and face; - Then too, such high respect and duty paid - By all--such silent reverence in the maid; - Vent’ring with caution, yet with haste, a glance; - Loth to retire, yet trembling to advance, 160 - Appear’d the nymph, and in her gentle guest - Stirr’d soft emotions till the hour of rest. - Sweet was his sleep, and in the morn again - He felt a mixture of delight and pain: - “How fair, how gentle,” said the ’squire, “how meek, - And yet how sprightly, when disposed to speak! - Nature has bless’d her form, and Heaven her mind, - But in her favours Fortune is unkind; - Poor is the maid--nay, poor she cannot prove - Who is enrich’d with beauty, worth, and love.” 170 - The ’squire arose, with no precise intent - To go or stay--uncertain what he meant. - He moved to part--they begg’d him first to dine; - And who could then escape from love and wine? - As came the night, more charming grew the fair, - And seem’d to watch him with a two-fold care: - On the third morn, resolving not to stay, - Though urged by love, he bravely rode away. - Arrived at home, three pensive days he gave - To feelings fond and meditations grave; 180 - Lovely she was, and, if he did not err, - As fond of him as his fond heart of her; - Still he delay’d, unable to decide - Which was the master-passion, love or pride: - He sometimes wonder’d how his friend could make, - And then exulted in, the night’s mistake; - Had she but fortune, “doubtless then,” he cried, - “Some happier man had won the wealthy bride.” - While thus he hung in balance, now inclined - To change his state, and then to change his mind-- 190 - That careless George dropp’d idly on the ground - A letter, which his crafty master found; - The stupid youth confess’d his fault, and pray’d - The generous ’squire to spare a gentle maid; - Of whom her tender mother, full of fears, - Had written much--“She caught her oft in tears, - For ever thinking on a youth above - Her humble fortune--still she own’d not love; - Nor can define, dear girl! the cherish’d pain, - But would rejoice to see the cause again. 200 - That neighbouring youth, whom she endured before, - She now rejects, and will behold no more; - Raised by her passion, she no longer stoops - To her own equals, but she pines and droops: - Like to a lily, on whose sweets the sun - Has withering gazed--she saw and was undone. - His wealth allured her not--nor was she moved - By his superior state, himself she loved: - So mild, so good, so gracious, so genteel-- } - But spare your sister, and her love conceal; } 210 - We must the fault forgive, since she the pain } - must feel.” } - “Fault!” said the ’squire, “there’s coarseness in the mind - That thus conceives of feelings so refined; - Here end my doubts, nor blame yourself, my friend, - Fate made you careless--here my doubts have end.” - The way is plain before us--there is now - The lover’s visit first, and then the vow - Mutual and fond, the marriage-rite, the bride - Brought to her home with all a husband’s pride; - The ’squire receives the prize his merits won, 220 - And the glad parents leave the patron-son. - But in short time he saw with much surprise, } - First gloom, then grief, and then resentment rise, } - From proud, commanding frowns and anger-darting eyes: } - “Is there in Harriot’s humble mind this fire, - This fierce impatience?” ask’d the puzzled ’squire: - “Has marriage changed her? or the mask she wore - Has she thrown by, and is herself once more?” - Hour after hour, when clouds on clouds appear, - Dark and more dark, we know the tempest near; 230 - And thus the frowning brow, the restless form, - And threat’ning glance, forerun domestic storm: - So read the husband, and, with troubled mind, - Reveal’d his fears--“My love, I hope you find - All here is pleasant--but I must confess } - You seem offended, or in some distress; } - Explain the grief you feel, and leave me to redress.” } - “Leave it to you?” replied the nymph--“indeed! - What--to the cause from whence the ills proceed? - Good Heaven! to take me from a place, where I 240 - Had every comfort underneath the sky; - And then immure me in a gloomy place, - With the grim monsters of your ugly race, - That from their canvas staring, make me dread - Through the dark chambers where they hang to tread! - No friend nor neighbour comes to give that joy, - Which all things here must banish or destroy: - Where is the promised coach? the pleasant ride? - Oh! what a fortune has a farmer’s bride! - Your sordid pride has placed me just above 250 - Your hired domestics--and what pays me? love! - A selfish fondness I endure each hour, - And share unwitness’d pomp, unenvied power; - I hear your folly, smile at your parade, - And see your favourite dishes duly made; - Then am I richly dress’d for you t’ admire, - Such is my duty and my lord’s desire; - Is this a life for youth, for health, for joy? - Are these my duties--this my base employ? - No! to my father’s house will I repair, 260 - And make your idle wealth support me there; - Was it your wish to have an humble bride - For bondage thankful? Curse upon your pride! - Was it a slave you wanted? You shall see, - That, if not happy, I at least am free; - Well, sir, your answer!”--silent stood the ’squire, - As looks a miser at his house on fire; - Where all he deems is vanish’d in that flame, - Swept from the earth his substance and his name: - So, lost to every promised joy of life, 270 - Our ’squire stood gaping at his angry wife;-- - His fate, his ruin, where he saw it vain - To hope for peace, pray, threaten, or complain; - And thus, betwixt his wonder at the ill - And his despair--there stood he gaping still. - “Your answer, sir--shall I depart a spot - I thus detest?”--“Oh, miserable lot!” - Exclaim’d the man; “Go, serpent! nor remain - To sharpen wo by insult and disdain: - A nest of harpies was I doom’d to meet; 280 - What plots, what combinations of deceit! - I see it now--all plann’d, design’d, contrived; - Served by that villain--by this fury wived-- - What fate is mine! What wisdom, virtue, truth, - Can stand, if dæmons set their traps for youth? - He lose his way! vile dog! he cannot lose - The way a villain through his life pursues; - And thou, deceiver! thou, afraid to move, - And hiding close the serpent in the dove! - I saw--but, fated to endure disgrace, 290 - Unheeding saw, the fury in thy face; - And call’d it spirit--Oh! I might have found - Fraud and imposture--all the kindred round! - A nest of vipers”---- - “Sir, I’ll not admit - These wild effusions of your angry wit: - Have you that value, that we all should use - Such mighty arts for such important views? - Are you such prize--and is my state so fair, - That they should sell their souls to get me there? - Think you that we alone our thoughts disguise? } 300 - When in pursuit of some contended prize, } - Mask we alone the heart, and soothe whom we despise? } - Speak you of craft and subtle schemes, who know - That all your wealth you to deception owe; - Who play’d for ten dull years a scoundrel-part, - To worm yourself into a widow’s heart? - Now, when you guarded, with superior skill, - That lady’s closet, and preserved her will, - Blind in your craft, you saw not one of those - Opposed by you might you in turn oppose; 310 - Or watch your motions, and by art obtain - Share of that wealth you gave your peace to gain? - Did conscience never”---- - “Cease, Tormentor, cease-- - Or reach me poison--let me rest in peace!” - “Agreed--but hear me--let the truth appear”-- - “Then state your purpose--I’ll be calm and hear”-- - “Know then, this wealth, sole object of your care, - I had some right, without your hand, to share; - My mother’s claim was just--but soon she saw - Your power, compell’d, insulted, to withdraw: 320 - ’Twas then my father, in his anger, swore - You should divide the fortune, or restore; - Long we debated--and you find me now - Heroic victim to a father’s vow; - Like Jephtha’s daughter, but in different state, - And both decreed to mourn our early fate; - Hence was my brother servant to your pride, - Vengeance made him your slave--and me your bride. - Now all is known--a dreadful price I pay - For our revenge--but still we have our day; 330 - All that you love you must with others share, - Or all you dread from their resentment dare! - Yet terms I offer--let contention cease: - Divide the spoil, and let us part in peace.” - Our hero trembling heard--he sat--he rose-- - Nor could his motions nor his mind compose; - He paced the room--and, stalking to her side, } - Gazed on the face of his undaunted bride; } - And nothing there but scorn and calm aversion spied. } - He would have vengeance, yet he fear’d the law: 340 - Her friends would threaten, and their power he saw; - “Then let her go;”--but oh! a mighty sum - Would that demand, since he had let her come; - Nor from his sorrows could he find redress, - Save that which led him to a like distress, - And all his ease was in his wife to see - A wretch as anxious and distress’d as he. - Her strongest wish, the fortune to divide - And part in peace, his avarice denied; - And thus it happen’d, as in all deceit, 350 - The cheater found the evil of the cheat; - The husband grieved--nor was the wife at rest; - Him she could vex, and he could her molest; - She could his passion into frenzy raise, - But, when the fire was kindled, fear’d the blaze: - As much they studied, so in time they found - The easiest way to give the deepest wound; - But then, like fencers, they were equal still, - Both lost in danger what they gain’d in skill; - Each heart a keener kind of rancour gain’d, 360 - And paining more, was more severely pain’d; - And thus by both were equal vengeance dealt, - And both the anguish they inflicted felt. - - - - -TALE XIII. - -_JESSE AND COLIN._ - - -Then she plots, then she ruminates, then she devises; and what they -think in their hearts they may effect, they will break their hearts -but they will effect. - _Merry Wives of Windsor_, Act II. Scene 2. - -She hath spoken that she should not, I am sure of that; Heaven knows -what she hath known. - _Macbeth_, Act V. Scene 1. - - Our house is hell, and thou a merry devil. - _Merchant of Venice_, Act II. Scene 3. - - -And yet, for aught I see, they are as sick that surfeit of too much, -as they that starve with nothing; it is no mean happiness, therefore, -to be seated in the mean. - _Merchant of Venice_, Act I. Scene 2. - - -TALE XIII. - -_JESSE AND COLIN._ - - A vicar died, and left his daughter poor-- - It hurt her not, she was not rich before: - Her humble share of worldly goods she sold, - Paid every debt, and then her fortune told; - And found, with youth and beauty, hope and health, - Two hundred guineas was her worldly wealth; - It then remain’d to choose her path in life, - And first, said Jesse, “Shall I be a wife?-- - Colin is mild and civil, kind and just, - I know his love, his temper I can trust; 10 - But small his farm, it asks perpetual care, - And we must toil as well as trouble share. - True, he was taught in all the gentle arts - That raise the soul, and soften human hearts, - And boasts a parent, who deserves to shine - In higher class, and I could wish her mine; - Nor wants he will his station to improve, - A just ambition waked by faithful love;-- - Still is he poor--and here my father’s friend - Deigns for his daughter, as her own, to send; 20 - A worthy lady, who it seems has known - A world of griefs and troubles of her own. - I was an infant, when she came, a guest - Beneath my father’s humble roof to rest; - Her kindred all unfeeling, vast her woes; - Such her complaint, and there she found repose; - Enrich’d by fortune, now she nobly lives, - And nobly, from the blest abundance, gives; - The grief, the want of human life, she knows, - And comfort there and here relief bestows; 30 - But are they not dependants?--Foolish pride! - Am I not honour’d by such friend and guide? - Have I a home,” (here Jesse dropp’d a tear,) - “Or friend beside?”--A faithful friend was near. - Now Colin came, at length resolved to lay - His heart before her and to urge her stay; - True, his own plough the gentle Colin drove, - An humble farmer with aspiring love; - Who, urged by passion, never dared till now, - Thus urged by fears, his trembling hopes avow. 40 - Her father’s glebe he managed; every year - The grateful vicar held the youth more dear; - He saw indeed the prize in Colin’s view, - And wish’d his Jesse with a man so true; - Timid as true, he urged with anxious air - His tender hope, and made the trembling prayer; - When Jesse saw, nor could with coldness see, - Such fond respect, such tried sincerity, - Grateful for favours to her father dealt, - She more than grateful for his passion felt; 50 - Nor could she frown on one so good and kind, - Yet fear’d to smile, and was unfix’d in mind; - But prudence placed the female friend in view-- - What might not one so rich and grateful do? - So lately, too, the good old vicar died, } - His faithful daughter must not cast aside } - The signs of filial grief, and be a ready bride: } - Thus, led by prudence, to the lady’s seat - The village-beauty purposed to retreat; - But, as in hard-fought fields the victor knows 60 - What to the vanquish’d he, in honour, owes, - So, in this conquest over powerful love, - Prudence resolved a generous foe to prove; - And Jesse felt a mingled fear and pain - In her dismission of a faithful swain, - Gave her kind thanks, and when she saw his wo, - Kindly betray’d that she was loth to go. - But would she promise, if abroad she met } - A frowning world, she would remember yet } - “Where dwelt a friend?”--“That could she not forget.” } - And thus they parted; but each faithful heart 71 - Felt the compulsion, and refused to part. - Now by the morning mail the timid maid - Was to that kind and wealthy dame convey’d; - Whose invitation, when her father died, - Jesse as comfort to her heart applied. - She knew the days her generous friend had seen-- - As wife and widow, evil days had been; - She married early, and for half her life - Was an insulted and forsaken wife; 80 - Widow’d and poor, her angry father gave, - Mix’d with reproach, the pittance of a slave; - Forgetful brothers pass’d her, but she knew - Her humbler friends, and to their home withdrew; - The good old vicar to her sire applied - For help, and help’d her when her sire denied; - When in few years death stalk’d through bower and hall, - Sires, sons, and sons of sons, were buried all; - She then abounded, and had wealth to spare - For softening grief she once was doom’d to share; 90 - Thus train’d in misery’s school, and taught to feel, - She would rejoice an orphan’s woes to heal. - So Jesse thought, who look’d within her breast, - And thence conceived how bounteous minds are bless’d. - From her vast mansion look’d the lady down - On humbler buildings of a busy town; - Thence came her friends of either sex, and all - With whom she lived on terms reciprocal. - They pass’d the hours with their accustom’d ease, - As guests inclined, but not compell’d to please; 100 - But there were others in the mansion found, - For office chosen, and by duties bound; - Three female rivals, each of power possess’d, - Th’ attendant-maid, poor friend, and kindred-guest. - To these came Jesse, as a seaman thrown - By the rude storm upon a coast unknown: - The view was flattering, civil seem’d the race, - But all unknown the dangers of the place. - Few hours had pass’d, when, from attendants freed, - The lady utter’d--“This is kind indeed; 110 - Believe me, love! that I for one like you - Have daily pray’d, a friend discreet and true; - Oh! wonder not that I on you depend, - You are mine own hereditary friend: - Hearken, my Jesse, never can I trust - Beings ungrateful, selfish, and unjust; - But you are present, and my load of care - Your love will serve to lighten and to share. - Come near me, Jesse--let not those below - Of my reliance on your friendship know; 120 - Look as they look, be in their freedoms free-- - But all they say do you convey to me.” - Here Jesse’s thoughts to Colin’s cottage flew, - And with such speed she scarce their absence knew. - “Jane loves her mistress, and should she depart, - I lose her service, and she breaks her heart; - My ways and wishes, looks and thoughts she knows, - And duteous care by close attention shows; - But is she faithful? in temptation strong? - Will she not wrong me? ah! I fear the wrong. 130 - Your father loved me; now, in time of need, - Watch for my good, and to his place succeed. - “Blood doesn’t bind--that girl, who every day - Eats of my bread, would wish my life away; - I am her _dear relation_, and she thinks - To make her fortune, an ambitious minx! - She only courts me for the prospect’s sake, - Because she knows I have a will to make; - Yes, love! my will delay’d, I know not how-- - But you are here, and I will make it now. 140 - “That idle creature, keep her in your view, - See what she does, what she desires to do; - On her young mind may artful villains prey, - And to my plate and jewels find a way; - A pleasant humour has the girl; her smile - And cheerful manner tedious hours beguile; - But well observe her, ever near her be, - Close in your thoughts, in your professions free. - “Again, my Jesse, hear what I advise, - And watch a woman ever in disguise; 150 - Issop, that widow, serious, subtle, sly-- - But what of this?--I must have company. - She markets for me, and although she makes - Profit, no doubt, of all she undertakes, - Yet she is one I can to all produce, - And all her talents are in daily use; - Deprived of her, I may another find - As sly and selfish, with a weaker mind: - But never trust her, she is full of art, - And worms herself into the closest heart; 160 - Seem then, I pray you, careless in her sight, - Nor let her know, my love, how we unite. - “Do, my good Jesse, cast a view around, - And let no wrong within my house be found; - That girl associates with--I know not who - Are her companions, nor what ill they do; - ’Tis then the widow plans, ’tis then she tries - Her various arts and schemes for fresh supplies; - ’Tis then, if ever, Jane her duty quits, - And, whom I know not, favours and admits: 170 - Oh! watch their movements all; for me ’tis hard, - Indeed is vain, but you may keep a guard; - And I, when none your watchful glance deceive, - May make my will, and think what I shall leave.” - Jesse, with fear, disgust, alarm, surprise, - Heard of these duties for her ears and eyes; - Heard by what service she must gain her bread, - And went with scorn and sorrow to her bed. - Jane was a servant fitted for her place, - Experienced, cunning, fraudful, selfish, base; 180 - Skill’d in those mean, humiliating arts - That make their way to proud and selfish hearts; - By instinct taught, she felt an awe, a fear, - For Jesse’s upright, simple character; - Whom with gross flattery she awhile assail’d, - And then beheld with hatred when it fail’d; - Yet, trying still upon her mind for hold, - She all the secrets of the mansion told; - And to invite an equal trust she drew - Of every mind a bold and rapid view; 190 - But on the widow’d friend with deep disdain, - And rancorous envy, dwelt the treacherous Jane.-- - In vain such arts; without deceit or pride, - With a just taste and feeling for her guide, - From all contagion Jesse kept apart, - Free in her manners, guarded in her heart. - Jesse one morn was thoughtful, and her sigh - The widow heard as she was passing by; - And--“Well!” she said, “is that some distant swain, - Or aught with us, that gives your bosom pain? 200 - Come, we are fellow-sufferers, slaves in thrall, - And tasks and griefs are common to us all; - Think not my frankness strange: they love to paint - Their state with freedom, who endure restraint; - And there is something in that speaking eye - And sober mien, that prove I may rely. - You came a stranger; to my words attend, - Accept my offer, and you find a friend; - It is a labyrinth in which you stray, - Come, hold my clue, and I will lead the way. 210 - “Good Heav’n! that one so jealous, envious, base, - Should be the mistress of so sweet a place; - She, who so long herself was low and poor, - Now broods suspicious on her useless store; - She loves to see us abject, loves to deal - Her insult round, and then pretends to feel; - Prepare to cast all dignity aside, - For know your talents will be quickly tried; - Nor think, from favours past, a friend to gain, - ’Tis but by duties we our posts maintain: 220 - I read her novels, gossip through the town, - And daily go, for idle stories, down; - I cheapen all she buys, and bear the curse - Of honest tradesmen for my niggard-purse; - And, when for her this meanness I display, - She cries, ’I heed not what I throw away;’ - Of secret bargains I endure the shame, - And stake my credit for our fish and game; - Oft has she smiled to hear, ’her generous soul - Would gladly give, but stoops to my control’; 230 - Nay! I have heard her, when she chanced to come - Where I contended for a petty sum, - Affirm ’twas painful to behold such care, - ‘But Issop’s nature is to pinch and spare:’ - Thus all the meanness of the house is mine, - And my reward--to scorn her, and to dine. - “See next that giddy thing, with neither pride - To keep her safe, nor principle to guide: - Poor, idle, simple flirt! as sure as fate - Her maiden-fame will have an early date. 240 - Of her beware; for all who live below - Have faults they wish not all the world to know; - And she is fond of listening, full of doubt, - And stoops to guilt to find an error out. - “And now once more observe the artful maid, - A lying, prying, jilting, thievish jade; - I think, my love, you would not condescend - To call a low, illiterate girl your friend; - But in our troubles we are apt, you know, - To lean on all who some compassion show; 250 - And she has flexile features, acting eyes, - And seems with every look to sympathise; - No mirror can a mortal’s grief express - With more precision, or can feel it less; - That proud, mean spirit, she by fawning courts, - By vulgar flattery, and by vile reports; - And by that proof she every instant gives - To one so mean, that yet a meaner lives.-- - “Come, I have drawn the curtain, and you see - Your fellow-actors, all our company; 260 - Should you incline to throw reserve aside, - And in my judgment and my love confide, - I could some prospects open to your view, - That ask attention--and, till then, adieu.” - “Farewell!” said Jesse, hastening to her room, - Where all she saw within, without, was gloom: - Confused, perplex’d, she pass’d a dreary hour, - Before her reason could exert its power; - To her all seem’d mysterious, all allied - To avarice, meanness, folly, craft, and pride; 270 - Wearied with thought, she breathed the garden’s air, - Then came the laughing lass, and join’d her there. - “My sweetest friend has dwelt with us a week, - And does she love us? be sincere and speak; - My aunt you cannot--Lord! how I should hate - To be like her, all misery and state; - Proud, and yet envious, she disgusted sees - All who are happy, and who look at ease. - Let friendship bind us, I will quickly show - Some favourites near us you’ll be bless’d to know; 280 - My aunt forbids it--but, can she expect, - To soothe her spleen, we shall ourselves neglect? - Jane and the widow were to watch and stay - My free-born feet; I watch’d as well as they; - Lo! what is this? this simple key explores - The dark recess that holds the spinster’s stores; - And led by her ill star, I chanced to see - Where Issop keeps her stock of ratafie; - Used in the hours of anger and alarm, - It makes her civil, and it keeps her warm; 290 - Thus bless’d with secrets, both would choose to hide, - Their fears now grant me what their scorn denied. - “My freedom thus by their assent secured, - Bad as it is, the place may be endured; - And bad it is, but her estates, you know, - And her beloved hoards, she must bestow; - So we can slyly our amusements take, - And friends of dæmons, if they help us, make.” - “Strange creatures these,” thought Jesse, half inclined - To smile at one malicious and yet kind; 300 - Frank and yet cunning, with a heart to love - And malice prompt--the serpent and the dove; - Here could she dwell? or could she yet depart? - Could she be artful? could she bear with art?-- - This splendid mansion gave the cottage grace, - She thought a dungeon was a happier place; - And Colin pleading, when he pleaded best, - Wrought not such sudden change in Jesse’s breast. - The wondering maiden, who had only read - Of such vile beings, saw them now with dread; 310 - Safe in themselves--for nature has design’d - The creature’s poison harmless to the kind; - But all beside who in the haunts are found - Must dread the poison, and must feel the wound. - Days full of care, slow weary weeks pass’d on; - Eager to go, still Jesse was not gone; - Her time in trifling or in tears she spent, - She never gave, she never felt content: - The lady wonder’d that her humble guest - Strove not to please, would neither lie nor jest; 320 - She sought no news, no scandal would convey, - But walk’d for health, and was at church to pray; - All this displeased, and soon the widow cried: - “Let me be frank--I am not satisfied; - You know my wishes, I your judgment trust; - You can be useful, Jesse, and you must; - Let me be plainer, child--I want an ear, - When I am deaf, instead of mine to hear; - When mine is sleeping, let your eye awake; - When I observe not, observation take; 330 - Alas! I rest not on my pillow laid, - Then threat’ning whispers make my soul afraid; - The tread of strangers to my ear ascends, - Fed at my cost, the minions of my friends; - While you, without a care, a wish to please, - Eat the vile bread of idleness and ease.” - Th’ indignant girl astonish’d answer’d--“Nay! - This instant, madam, let me haste away; - Thus speaks my father’s, thus an orphan’s, friend? - This instant, lady, let your bounty end.” 340 - The lady frown’d indignant--“What!” she cried, - “A vicar’s daughter with a princess’ pride! - And pauper’s lot! but pitying I forgive; - How, simple Jesse, do you think to live? - Have I not power to help you, foolish maid? - To my concerns be your attention paid; - With cheerful mind th’ allotted duties take, - And recollect I have a will to make.” - Jesse, who felt as liberal natures feel, - When thus the baser their designs reveal, 350 - Replied--“Those duties were to her unfit, - Nor would her spirit to her tasks submit.” - In silent scorn the lady sate awhile, - And then replied with stern contemptuous smile-- - “Think you, fair madam, that you came to share - Fortunes like mine without a thought or care? - A guest, indeed! from every trouble free, - Dress’d by my help, with not a care for me. - When I a visit to your father made, - I for the poor assistance largely paid; 360 - To his domestics I their tasks assign’d; - I fix’d the portion for his hungry hind; - And had your father (simple man!) obey’d - My good advice, and watch’d as well as pray’d, - He might have left you something with his prayers, - And lent some colour for these lofty airs.-- - “In tears! my love! Oh, then my soften’d heart - Cannot resist--we never more will part; - I need your friendship--I will be your friend; - And thus determined, to my will attend.” 370 - Jesse went forth, but with determined soul - To fly such love, to break from such control; - “I hear enough,” the trembling damsel cried; - “Flight be my care, and Providence my guide: - Ere yet a prisoner, I escape will make; } - Will, thus display’d, th’ insidious arts forsake, } - And, as the rattle sounds, will fly the fatal snake.” } - Jesse her thanks upon the morrow paid, - Prepared to go, determined though afraid. - “Ungrateful creature,” said the lady, “this 380 - Could I imagine?--are you frantic, miss? - What! leave your friend, your prospects--is it true?” - This Jesse answer’d by a mild “Adieu!” - The dame replied, “Then houseless may you rove, - The starving victim to a guilty love; - Branded with shame, in sickness doom’d to nurse - An ill-form’d cub, your scandal and your curse; - Spurn’d by its scoundrel father, and ill fed - By surly rustics with the parish-bread!-- - Relent you not?--speak--yet I can forgive; 390 - Still live with me”--“With you,” said Jesse, “live? - No! I would first endure what you describe, - Rather than breathe with your detested tribe: - Who long have feign’d, till now their very hearts - Are firmly fix’d in their accursed parts; - Who all profess esteem, and feel disdain, - And all, with justice, of deceit complain; - Whom I could pity, but that, while I stay, - My terror drives all kinder thoughts away; - Grateful for this, that when I think of you, 400 - I little fear what poverty can do.” - The angry matron her attendant Jane - Summon’d in haste to soothe the fierce disdain. - “A vile detested wretch!” the lady cried, } - “Yet shall she be, by many an effort, tried, } - And, clogg’d with debt and fear, against her will abide; } - And, once secured, she never shall depart - Till I have proved the firmness of her heart; - Then when she dares not, would not, cannot go, - I’ll make her feel what ’tis to use me so.” 410 - The pensive Colin in his garden stray’d, - But felt not then the beauties it display’d; - There many a pleasant object met his view, - A rising wood of oaks behind it grew; - A stream ran by it, and the village-green - And public road were from the gardens seen; - Save where the pine and larch the bound’ry made, - And on the rose-beds threw a softening shade. - The mother sat beside the garden-door, - Dress’d as in times ere she and hers were poor; 420 - The broad-laced cap was known in ancient days, - When madam’s dress compell’d the village praise; - And still she look’d as in the times of old, - Ere his last farm the erring husband sold; - While yet the mansion stood in decent state, - And paupers waited at the well-known gate. - “Alas! my son!” the mother cried, “and why - That silent grief and oft-repeated sigh? - True, we are poor, but thou hast never felt - Pangs to thy father for his error dealt; 430 - Pangs from strong hopes of visionary gain, - For ever raised, and ever found in vain. - He rose unhappy! from his fruitless schemes, - As guilty wretches from their blissful dreams; - But thou wert then, my son, a playful child, - Wondering at grief, gay, innocent, and wild; - Listening at times to thy poor mother’s sighs, - With curious looks and innocent surprise; - Thy father dying, thou, my virtuous boy, - My comfort always, waked my soul to joy; 440 - With the poor remnant of our fortune left, - Thou hast our station of its gloom bereft: - Thy lively temper, and thy cheerful air, - Have cast a smile on sadness and despair; - Thy active hand has dealt to this poor space - The bliss of plenty and the charm of grace; - And all around us wonder when they find - Such taste and strength, such skill and power combined; - There is no mother, Colin, no not one, - But envies me so kind, so good a son; 450 - By thee supported on this failing side, - Weakness itself awakes a parent’s pride; - I bless the stroke that was my grief before, - And feel such joy that ’tis disease no more; - Shielded by thee, my want becomes my wealth-- - And, soothed by Colin, sickness smiles at health; - The old men love thee, they repeat thy praise, - And say, like thee were youth in earlier days; - While every village-maiden cries, ’How gay, - How smart, how brave, how good is Colin Grey!’ 460 - “Yet art thou sad; alas! my son, I know - Thy heart is wounded, and the cure is slow; - Fain would I think that Jesse still may come - To share the comforts of our rustic home: - She surely loved thee; I have seen the maid, - When thou hast kindly brought the vicar aid-- - When thou hast eased his bosom of its pain, - Oh! I have seen her--she will come again.” - The matron ceased; and Colin stood the while - Silent, but striving for a grateful smile; 470 - He then replied--“Ah! sure, had Jesse stay’d, - And shared the comforts of our sylvan shade, - The tenderest duty and the fondest love - Would not have fail’d that generous heart to move; - A grateful pity would have ruled her breast, - And my distresses would have made me blest. - “But she is gone, and ever has in view } - Grandeur and taste--and what will then ensue? } - Surprise and then delight in scenes so fair and new; } - For many a day, perhaps for many a week, 480 - Home will have charms, and to her bosom speak; - But thoughtless ease, and affluence, and pride, - Seen day by day, will draw the heart aside: - And she at length, though gentle and sincere, - Will think no more of our enjoyments here.” - Sighing he spake--but hark! he hears th’ approach - Of rattling wheels! and lo! the evening-coach; - Once more the movement of the horses’ feet - Makes the fond heart with strong emotion beat; - Faint were his hopes, but ever had the sight 490 - Drawn him to gaze beside his gate at night; - And when with rapid wheels it hurried by, - He grieved his parent with a hopeless sigh; - And could the blessing have been bought--what sum - Had he not offer’d, to have Jesse come! - She came--he saw her bending from the door, - Her face, her smile, and he beheld no more; - Lost in his joy--the mother lent her aid - T’ assist and to detain the willing maid; - Who thought her late, her present home to make, 500 - Sure of a welcome for the vicar’s sake. - But the good parent was so pleased, so kind, - So pressing Colin, she so much inclined, - That night advanced; and then so long detain’d, } - No wishes to depart she felt, or feign’d; } - Yet long in doubt she stood, and then perforce remain’d. } - Here was a lover fond, a friend sincere; - Here was content and joy, for she was here: - In the mild evening, in the scene around, - The maid, now free, peculiar beauties found; 510 - Blended with village-tones, the evening-gale - Gave the sweet night-bird’s warblings to the vale; - The youth embolden’d, yet abash’d, now told - His fondest wish, nor found the maiden cold; - The mother smiling whisper’d--“Let him go - And seek the licence!” Jesse answer’d, “No:” - But Colin went, I know not if they live - With all the comforts wealth and plenty give; - But with pure joy to envious souls denied, - To suppliant meanness and suspicious pride; 520 - And village-maids of happy couples say, - “They live like Jesse Bourn and Colin Grey.” - - - - -TALE XIV. - -_THE STRUGGLES OF CONSCIENCE._ - - - I am a villain; yet I lie, I am not; - Fool! of thyself speak well:--Fool! do not flatter. - My Conscience hath a thousand several tongues, - And every tongue brings in a several tale. - _Richard III._ Act V. Scene 3. - -My Conscience is but a kind of hard Conscience. . . . The fiend gives -the more friendly counsel. - _Merchant of Venice_, Act II. Scene 2. - - Thou hast it now. . . . - . . . and I fear - Thou play’dst most foully [for’t]. - _Macbeth_, Act III. Scene 1. - - Canst thou not minister to a mind diseased, - Pluck from the memory a rooted sorrow, - Rase out the written troubles of the brain, - And with some sweet oblivious antidote - Cleanse the foul bosom of that perilous stuff - Which weighs upon the heart? - _Macbeth_, Act V. Scene 3. - - Soft! I did but dream-- - Oh! coward Conscience, how dost thou afflict me! - _Richard III._ Act V. Scene 3. - - -TALE XIV. - -_THE STRUGGLES OF CONSCIENCE._ - - A serious toyman in the city dwelt, - Who much concern for his religion felt; - Reading, he changed his tenets, read again, - And various questions could with skill maintain; - Papist and quaker if we set aside, - He had the road of every traveller tried; - There walk’d awhile, and on a sudden turn’d - Into some by-way he had just discern’d: - He had a nephew, Fulham--Fulham went - His uncle’s way, with every turn content; 10 - He saw his pious kinsman’s watchful care, } - And thought such anxious pains his own might spare, } - And he, the truth obtain’d, without the toil, might share. } - In fact, young Fulham, though he little read, - Perceived his uncle was by fancy led; - And smiled to see the constant care he took, - Collating creed with creed, and book with book. - At length the senior fix’d; I pass the sect - He call’d a church, ’twas precious and elect; - Yet the seed fell not in the richest soil, 20 - For few disciples paid the preacher’s toil; - All in an attic-room were wont to meet, - These few disciples at their pastor’s feet; - With these went Fulham, who, discreet and grave, - Follow’d the light his worthy uncle gave; - Till a warm preacher found a way t’ impart - Awakening feelings to his torpid heart: - Some weighty truths, and of unpleasant kind, - Sank, though resisted, in his struggling mind; - He wish’d to fly them, but, compell’d to stay, 30 - Truth to the waking Conscience found her way; - For though the youth was call’d a prudent lad, - And prudent was, yet serious faults he had; - Who now reflected--“Much am I surprised, - I find these notions cannot be despised; - No! there is something I perceive at last, - Although my uncle cannot hold it fast; - Though I the strictness of these men reject, - Yet I determine to be circumspect: - This man alarms me, and I must begin 40 - To look more closely to the things within; - These sons of zeal have I derided long, - But now begin to think the laughers wrong; - Nay, my good uncle, by all teachers moved, } - Will be preferr’d to him who none approved: } - Better to love amiss than nothing to have loved.” } - Such were his thoughts, when Conscience first began - To hold close converse with th’ awaken’d man. - He from that time reserved and cautious grew, - And for his duties felt obedience due; 50 - Pious he was not, but he fear’d the pain - Of sins committed, nor would sin again. - Whene’er he stray’d, he found his Conscience rose, } - Like one determined what was ill t’ oppose, } - What wrong t’ accuse, what secret to disclose; } - To drag forth every latent act to light, - And fix them fully in the actor’s sight: - This gave him trouble, but he still confess’d - The labour useful, for it brought him rest. - The uncle died, and when the nephew read 60 - The will, and saw the substance of the dead-- - Five hundred guineas, with a stock in trade-- - He much rejoiced, and thought his fortune made; - Yet felt aspiring pleasure at the sight, - And, for increase, increasing appetite. - Desire of profit idle habits check’d, - (For Fulham’s virtue was to be correct); - He and his Conscience had their compact made-- - “Urge me with truth, and you will soon persuade; - But not,” he cried, “for mere ideal things 70 - Give me to feel those terror-breeding stings.” - “Let not such thoughts,” she said, “your mind confound; - Trifles may wake me, but they never wound; - In them indeed there is a wrong and right, - But you will find me pliant and polite; - Not like a Conscience of the dotard kind, - Awake to dreams, to dire offences blind. - Let all within be pure; in all beside - Be your own master, governor, and guide; - Alive to danger, in temptation strong-- 80 - And I shall sleep our whole existence long.” - “Sweet be thy sleep,” said Fulham; “strong must be - The tempting ill that gains access to me; - Never will I to evil deed consent, - Or, if surprised, oh! how will I repent! - Should gain be doubtful, soon would I restore - The dangerous good, or give it to the poor; - Repose for them my growing wealth shall buy-- - Or build--who knows?--an hospital like Guy.-- - Yet why such means to soothe the smart within, 90 - While firmly purposed to renounce the sin?” - Thus our young Trader and his Conscience dwelt - In mutual love, and great the joy they felt; - But yet in small concerns, in trivial things, - “She was,” he said, “too ready with the stings;” - And he too apt, in search of growing gains, - To lose the fear of penalties and pains: - Yet these were trifling bickerings, petty jars, - Domestic strifes, preliminary wars; - He ventured little, little she express’d 100 - Of indignation, and they both had rest. - Thus was he fix’d to walk the worthy way, - When profit urged him to a bold essay.-- - A time was that when all at pleasure gamed - In lottery-chances, yet of law unblamed; - This Fulham tried: who would to him advance - A pound or crown, he gave in turn a chance - For weighty prize--and should they nothing share, - They had their crown or pound in Fulham’s ware; - Thus the old stores within the shop were sold 110 - For that which none refuses, new or old. - Was this unjust? Yet Conscience could not rest - But made a mighty struggle in the breast; - And gave th’ aspiring man an early proof, - That should they war he would have work enough: - “Suppose,” said she, “your vended numbers rise - The same with those which gain each real prize, - (Such your proposal,) can you ruin shun?” - “A hundred thousand,” he replied, “to one.”-- - “Still it may happen.”--“I the sum must pay.”-- 120 - “You know you cannot.”--“I can run away.”-- - “That is dishonest.”--“Nay, but you must wink - At a chance-hit; it cannot be, I think. - Upon my conduct as a whole decide, - Such trifling errors let my virtues hide; - Fail I at meeting? am I sleepy there? - My purse refuse I with the priest to share? - Do I deny the poor a helping hand? - Or stop the wicked women in the Strand? - Or drink at club beyond a certain pitch? 130 - Which are your charges? Conscience, tell me which.” - “’Tis well,” said she, “but--” “Nay, I pray, have done: - Trust me, I will not into danger run.” - The lottery drawn, not one demand was made; - Fulham gain’d profit and increase of trade. - “See now,” said he--for Conscience yet arose-- - “How foolish ’tis such measures to oppose: - Have I not blameless thus my state advanced?”-- - “Still,” mutter’d Conscience, “still it might have chanced.”-- - “Might!” said our hero, “who is so exact 140 - As to inquire what might have been a fact?” - Now Fulham’s shop contain’d a curious view - Of costly trifles, elegant and new: - The papers told where kind mammas might buy - The gayest toys to charm an infant’s eye; - Where generous beaux might gentle damsels please, - And travellers call who cross the land or seas, - And find the curious art, the neat device, - Of precious value and of trifling price. - Here Conscience rested: she was pleased to find 150 - No less an active than an honest mind; - But, when he named his price, and when he swore, - His Conscience check’d him, that he ask’d no more-- - When half he sought had been a large increase - On fair demand--she could not rest in peace - (Beside th’ affront to call th’ adviser in, - Who would prevent, to justify the sin.) - She therefore told him, that “he vainly tried - To soothe her anger, conscious that he lied; - If thus he grasp’d at such usurious gains, 160 - He must deserve, and should expect, her pains.” - The charge was strong; he would in part confess - Offence there was--but, who offended less? - “What! is a mere assertion call’d a lie? - And if it be, are men compell’d to buy? - ’Twas strange that Conscience on such points should dwell, } - While he was acting (he would call it) well; } - He bought as others buy, he sold as others sell: } - There was no fraud, and he demanded cause - Why he was troubled, when he kept the laws?” 170 - “My laws?” said Conscience: “What,” said he, “are thine? - Oral or written, human or divine? - Show me the chapter, let me see the text; - By laws uncertain subjects are perplex’d; - Let me my finger on the statute lay, - And I shall feel it duty to obey.” - “Reflect,” said Conscience, “’twas your own desire - That I should warn you--does the compact tire? - Repent you this? then bid me not advise, - And rather hear your passions as they rise; 180 - So you may counsel and remonstrance shun, - But then remember it is war begun; - And you may judge from some attacks, my friend, - What serious conflicts will on war attend.” - “Nay, but,” at length the thoughtful man replied, - “I say not that; I wish you for my guide; - Wish for your checks and your reproofs--but then - Be like a Conscience of my fellow-men; - Worthy I mean, and men of good report, - And not the wretches who with conscience sport. 190 - There’s Bice, my friend, who passes off his grease - Of pigs for bears’, in pots a crown apiece; - His Conscience never checks him when he swears - The fat he sells is honest fat of bears; - And so it is, for he contrives to give - A drachm to each--’tis thus that tradesmen live: - Now why should you and I be over-nice; - What man is held in more repute than Bice?” - Here ended the dispute; but yet ’twas plain - The parties both expected strife again. 200 - Their friendship cool’d, he look’d about and saw - Numbers who seem’d unshackled by his awe; - While like a school-boy he was threaten’d still, - Now for the deed, now only for the will; - Here Conscience answer’d, “To thy neighbour’s guide - Thy neighbour leave, and in thine own confide.” - Such were each day the charges and replies, - When a new object caught the trader’s eyes; - A vestry-patriot, could he gain the name, - Would famous make him, and would pay the fame. 210 - He knew full well the sums bequeath’d in charge - For schools, for alms-men, for the poor, were large; - Report had told, and he could feel it true, - That most unfairly dealt the trusted few; - No partners would they in their office take, - Nor clear accounts at annual meetings make; - Aloud our hero in the vestry spoke - Of hidden deeds, and vow’d to draw the cloak; - It was the poor man’s cause, and he for one - Was quite determined to see justice done. 220 - His foes affected laughter, then disdain, } - They too were loud and threat’ning, but in vain; } - The pauper’s friend, their foe, arose and spoke again. } - Fiercely he cried, “Your garbled statements show - That you determine we shall nothing know; - But we shall bring your hidden crimes to light, - Give you to shame, and to the poor their right.” - Virtue like this might some approval ask-- - But Conscience sternly said, “You wear a mask!” - “At least,” said Fulham, “if I have a view 230 - To serve myself, I serve the public too.” - Fulham, though check’d, retain’d his former zeal, - And this the cautious rogues began to feel. - “Thus will he ever bark,” in peevish tone - An elder cried--“the cur must have a bone.” - They then began to hint--and to begin - Was all they needed: it was felt within; - In terms less veil’d an offer then was made, - Though distant still, it fail’d not to persuade; - More plainly then was every point proposed, 240 - Approved, accepted, and the bargain closed. - “Th’ exulting paupers hail’d their friend’s success, - And bade adieu to murmurs and distress.” - Alas! their friend had now superior light, - And, view’d by that, he found that all was right; - “There were no errors, the disbursements small; - This was the truth, and truth was due to all.” - And rested Conscience? No! she would not rest, - Yet was content with making a protest. - Some acts she now with less resistance bore, 250 - Nor took alarm so quickly as before; - Like those in towns besieged, who every ball - At first with terror view, and dread them all; - But, grown familiar with the scenes, they fear - The danger less, as it approaches near: - So Conscience, more familiar with the view - Of growing evils, less attentive grew; - Yet he who felt some pain, and dreaded more, - Gave a peace-offering to the angry poor. - Thus had he quiet--but the time was brief, 260 - From his new triumph sprang a cause of grief; - In office join’d, and acting with the rest, - He must admit the sacramental test. - Now, as a sectary, who had all his life, - As he supposed, been with the church at strife - (No rules of hers, no laws had he perused, - Nor knew the tenets he by rote abused); - Yet Conscience here arose more fierce and strong, - Than when she told of robbery and wrong; - “Change his religion! No! he must be sure 270 - That was a blow no conscience could endure.” - Though friend to virtue, yet she oft abides - In early notions, fix’d by erring guides, - And is more startled by a call from those, - Than when the foulest crimes her rest oppose; - By error taught, by prejudice misled, - She yields her rights, and fancy rules instead; - When Conscience all her stings and terror deals, - Not as truth dictates, but as fancy feels; - And thus within our hero’s troubled breast, 280 - Crime was less torture than the odious test. - New forms, new measures, he must now embrace, - With sad conviction that they warr’d with grace; - To his new church no former friend would come, - They scarce preferr’d her to the church of Rome. - But, thinking much, and weighing guilt and gain, - Conscience and he commuted for her pain; - Then promised Fulham to retain his creed, - And their peculiar paupers still to feed; - Their attic-room (in secret) to attend, 290 - And not forget he was the preacher’s friend; - Thus he proposed, and Conscience, troubled, tried, - And wanting peace, reluctantly complied. - Now care subdued, and apprehensions gone, - In peace our hero went aspiring on; - But short the period--soon a quarrel rose, - Fierce in the birth, and fatal in the close; - With times of truce between, which rather proved - That both were weary, than that either loved. - Fulham ev’n now disliked the heavy thrall, } 300 - And for her death would in his anguish call, } - As Rome’s mistaken friend exclaim’d, } - _Let Carthage fall_! } - So felt our hero, so his wish express’d, - Against this powerful sprite--_delenda est_. - Rome in her conquest saw not danger near, - Freed from her rival, and without a fear; - So, Conscience conquer’d, men perceive how free, - But not how fatal, such a state must be. - Fatal, not free, our hero’s: foe or friend, - Conscience on him was destined to attend; 310 - She [dozed] indeed, grew dull, nor seem’d to spy - Crime following crime, and each of deeper dye; - But all were noticed, and the reckoning time - With her account came on--crime following crime. - This, once a foe, now brother in the trust, - Whom Fulham late described as fair and just, - Was the sole guardian of a wealthy maid, - Placed in his power, and of his frown afraid: - Not quite an idiot, for her busy brain - Sought, by poor cunning, trifling points to gain; 320 - Success in childish projects her delight, - She took no heed of each important right. - The friendly parties met--the guardian cried, - “I am too old; my sons have each a bride: - Martha, my ward, would make an easy wife; - On easy terms I’ll make her yours for life; - And then the creature is so weak and mild, - She may be soothed and threaten’d as a child--” - “Yet not obey,” said Fulham, “for your fools, - Female and male, are obstinate as mules.” 330 - Some points adjusted, these new friends agreed, - Proposed the day, and hurried on the deed. - “’Tis a vile act,” said Conscience;--“It will prove,” - Replied the bolder man, “an act of love; - Her wicked guardian might the girl have sold - To endless misery for a tyrant’s gold; - Now may her life be happy--for I mean - To keep my temper even and serene.” - “I cannot thus compound,” the spirit cried, - “Nor have my laws thus broken and defied; 340 - This is a fraud, a bargain for a wife; - Expect my vengeance, or amend your life.” - The wife was pretty, trifling, childish, weak; - She could not think, but would not cease to speak. - This he forbad--she took the caution ill, - And boldly rose against his sovereign will; - With idiot-cunning she would watch the hour, - When friends were present, to dispute his power: - With tyrant-craft, he then was still and calm, - But raised in private terror and alarm: 350 - By many trials, she perceived how far - To vex and tease, without an open war; - And he discover’d that so weak a mind - No art could lead, and no compulsion bind; - The rudest force would fail such mind to tame, - And she was callous to rebuke and shame; - Proud of her wealth, the power of law she knew, - And would assist him in the spending too. - His threat’ning words with insult she defied, - To all his reasoning with a stare replied; 360 - And when he begg’d her to attend, would say, - “Attend I will--but let me have my way.” - Nor rest had Conscience: “While you merit pain - From me,” she cried, “you seek redress in vain.” - His thoughts were grievous: “All that I possess - From this vile bargain adds to my distress; - To pass a life with one who will not mend, } - Who cannot love, nor save, nor wisely spend, } - Is a vile prospect, and I see no end; } - For if we part, I must of course restore 370 - Much of her money, and must wed no more. - “Is there no way?”--here Conscience rose in power, - “Oh! fly the danger of this fatal hour; - I am thy Conscience, faithful, fond, and true, - Ah, fly this thought, or evil must ensue; - Fall on thy knees, and pray with all thy soul, - Thy purpose banish, thy design control; - Let every hope of such advantage cease, - Or never more expect a moment’s peace.” - Th’ affrighten’d man a due attention paid, 380 - Felt the rebuke, and the command obey’d. - Again the wife rebell’d, again express’d - A love for pleasure--a contempt of rest; - “She, whom she pleased, would visit, would receive - Those who pleased her, nor deign to ask for leave.” - “One way there is,” said he; “I might contrive - Into a trap this foolish thing to drive: - Who pleased her, said she?--I’ll be certain who--” - “Take heed,” said Conscience, “what thou mean’st to do: - Ensnare thy wife?”--“Why yes,” he must confess, 390 - “It might be wrong--but there was no redress; - Beside, to think,” said he, “is not to sin.” - “Mistaken man!” replied the power within. - No guest unnoticed to the lady came, - He judged th’ event with mingled joy and shame; - Oft he withdrew, and seem’d to leave her free. - But still as watchful as a lynx was he; - Meanwhile the wife was thoughtless, cool, and gay, - And, without virtue, had no wish to stray. - Though thus opposed, his plans were not resign’d; 400 - “Revenge,” said he, “will prompt that daring mind; - Refused supplies, insulted and distress’d, - Enraged with me, and near a favourite guest-- - Then will her vengeance prompt the daring deed, - And I shall watch, detect her, and be freed.” - There was a youth--but let me hide the name, - With all the progress of this deed of shame; - He had his views--on him the husband cast - His net, and saw him in his trammels fast. - “Pause but a moment--think what you intend,” 410 - Said the roused sleeper; “I am yet a friend; - Must all our days in enmity be spent?” - “No!” and he paused--“I surely shall repent:” - Then hurried on--the evil plan was laid, } - The wife was guilty, and her friend betray’d, } - And Fulham gain’d his wish, and for his will was paid. } - Had crimes less weighty on the spirit press’d, - This troubled Conscience might have sunk to rest; - And, like a foolish guard, been bribed to peace, - By a false promise, that offence should cease; 420 - Past faults had seem’d familiar to the view, - Confused if many, and obscure though true; - And Conscience, troubled with the dull account, - Had dropp’d her tale, and slumber’d o’er th’ amount. - But, struck by daring guilt, alert she rose, - Disturbed, alarm’d, and could no more repose; - All hopes of friendship, and of peace, were past, - And every view with gloom was overcast. - Hence from that day, that day of shame and sin, - Arose the restless enmity within; 430 - On no resource could Fulham now rely, - Doom’d all expedients, and in vain, to try; - For Conscience, roused, sat boldly on her throne, } - Watch’d every thought, attack’d the foe alone, } - And with envenom’d sting drew forth the inward groan: } - Expedients fail’d that brought relief before, } - In vain his alms gave comfort to the poor: } - Give what he would, to him the comfort came no more. } - Not prayer avail’d, and when (his crimes confess’d) - He felt some ease, she said--“are they redress’d? 440 - You still retain the profit, and be sure, - Long as it lasts, this anguish shall endure.” - Fulham still tried to soothe her, cheat, mislead; } - But Conscience laid her finger on the deed, } - And read the crime with power, and all that must succeed. } - He tried t’ expel her, but was sure to find - Her strength increased by all that he design’d; - Nor ever was his groan more loud and deep, - Than when refresh’d she rose from momentary sleep. - Now desperate grown, weak, harass’d, and afraid, 450 - From new allies he sought for doubtful aid; - To thought itself he strove to bid adieu, - And from devotions to diversions flew; - He took a poor domestic for a slave, - (Though Avarice grieved to see the price he gave); - Upon his board, once frugal, press’d a load - Of viands rich, the appetite to goad; - The long-protracted meal, the sparkling cup, - Fought with his gloom, and kept his courage up; - Soon as the morning came, there met his eyes 460 - Accounts of wealth, that he might reading rise; - To profit then he gave some active hours, - Till food and wine again should renovate his powers. - Yet, spite of all defence, of every aid, - The watchful foe her close attention paid; - In every thoughtful moment, on she press’d, - And gave at once her dagger to his breast; - He waked at midnight, and the fears of sin, - As waters through a bursten dam, broke in; - Nay, in the banquet, with his friends around, 470 - When all their cares and half their crimes were drown’d, - Would some chance act awake the slumbering fear, - And care and crime in all their strength appear: - The news is read, a guilty victim swings, - And troubled looks proclaim the bosom-stings; - Some pair are wed; this brings the wife in view, - And some divorced: this shows the parting too; - Nor can he hear of evil word or deed, - But they to thought, and thought to sufferings lead. - Such was his life--no other changes came, 480 - The hurrying day, the conscious night the same; - The night of horror--when he, starting, cried - To the poor startled sinner at his side: - “Is it in law? am I condemn’d to die? - Let me escape!--I’ll give--oh! let me fly-- - How! but a dream--no judges! dungeon! chain! - Or these grim men!--I will not sleep again.-- - Wilt thou, dread being! thus thy promise keep? - Day is thy time--and wilt thou murder sleep? - Sorrow and want repose, and wilt thou come, 490 - Nor give one hour of pure untroubled gloom? - “Oh! Conscience! Conscience! man’s most faithful friend, - Him canst thou comfort, ease, relieve, defend; - But if he will thy friendly checks forego, - Thou art, oh! woe for me, his deadliest foe!” - - - - -TALE XV. - -_ADVICE_; OR, THE ’SQUIRE AND THE PRIEST. - - - His hours fill’d up with riots, banquets, sports---- - And never noted in him any study, - Any retirement, any sequestration. - _Henry V_. Act I. Scene 1. - - I will converse with iron-witted fools, - With unrespective boys; none are for me, - Who look into me with considerate eyes. - _Richard III._ Act IV. Scene 2. - - You cram these words into mine ears, against - The stomach of my sense. - _Tempest_, Act II. Scene 1. - - -TALE XV. - -_THE ’SQUIRE AND THE PRIEST._ - - A wealthy lord of far-extended land - Had all that pleased him placed at his command; - Widow’d of late, but finding much relief - In the world’s comforts, he dismiss’d his grief; - He was by marriage of his daughters eased, - And knew his sons could marry if they pleased; - Meantime in travel he indulged the boys, - And kept no spy nor partner of his joys. - These joys, indeed, were of the grosser kind, - That fed the cravings of an earthly mind; 10 - A mind that, conscious of its own excess, - Felt the reproach his neighbours would express. - Long at th’ indulgent board he loved to sit, - Where joy was laughter, and profaneness wit; - And such the guest and manners of the hall, - No wedded lady on the ’squire would call. - Here reign’d a favourite, and her triumph gain’d - O’er other favourites who before had reign’d; - Reserved and modest seem’d the nymph to be, - Knowing her lord was charm’d with modesty; 20 - For he, a sportsman keen, the more enjoy’d, - The greater value had the thing destroy’d. - Our ’squire declared, that, from a wife released, - He would no more give trouble to a priest; - Seem’d it not, then, ungrateful and unkind, - That he should trouble from the priesthood find? - The church he honour’d, and he gave the due - And full respect to every son he knew; - But envied those who had the luck to meet - A gentle pastor, civil, and discreet; 30 - Who never bold and hostile sermon penn’d, - To wound a sinner, or to shame a friend; - One whom no being either shunn’d or fear’d, - Such must be loved wherever they appear’d. - Not such the stern old rector of the time, - Who soothed no culprit, and who spared no crime; - Who would his fears and his contempt express, - For irreligion and licentiousness; - Of him our village lord, his guests among, - By speech vindictive proved his feelings stung. 40 - “Were he a bigot,” said the ’squire, “whose zeal - Condemn’d us all, I should disdain to feel: - But when a man of parts, in college train’d, - Prates of our conduct--who would not be pain’d, - While he declaims (where no one dares reply) } - On men abandon’d, grov’ling in the sty } - (Like beasts in human shape) of shameless luxury? } - Yet with a patriot’s zeal I stand the shock - Of vile rebuke, example to his flock; - But let this rector, thus severe and proud, 50 - Change his wide surplice for a narrow shroud, - And I will place within his seat a youth, - Train’d by the Graces, to explain the truth; - Then shall the flock with gentle hand be led, - By wisdom won, and by compassion fed.” - This purposed teacher was a sister’s son, - Who of her children gave the priesthood one; - And she had early train’d for this employ - The pliant talents of her college-boy. - At various times her letters painted all 60 - Her brother’s views--the manners of the hall; - The rector’s harshness, and the mischief made - By chiding those whom preachers should persuade: - This led the youth to views of easy life, - A friendly patron, an obliging wife; - His tithe, his glebe, the garden and the steed, - With books as many as he wish’d to read. - All this accorded with the uncle’s will; - He loved a priest compliant, easy, still; - Sums he had often to his favourite sent, 70 - “To be,” he wrote, “in manly freedom spent; - For well it pleased his spirit to assist - An honest lad, who scorn’d a Methodist.” - His mother too, in her maternal care, - Bade him of canting hypocrites beware; - Who from his duties would his heart seduce, - And make his talents of no earthly use. - Soon must a trial of his worth be made-- - The ancient priest is to the tomb convey’d; - And the youth summon’d from a serious friend, 80 - His guide and host, new duties to attend. - Three months before, the nephew and the ’squire - Saw mutual worth to praise and to admire; - And though the one too early left his wine, - The other still exclaim’d--“My boy will shine: - Yes, I perceive that he will soon improve, - And I shall form the very guide I love; - Decent abroad, he will my name defend, - And, when at home, be social and unbend.” - The plan was specious, for the mind of James 90 - Accorded duly with his uncle’s schemes: - He then aspired not to a higher name - Than sober clerks of moderate talents claim; - Gravely to pray, and rev’rendly to preach, - Was all he saw, good youth! within his reach. - Thus may a mass of sulphur long abide, - Cold and inert, but, to the flame applied, - Kindling it blazes, and consuming turns - To smoke and poison, as it boils and burns. - James, leaving college, to a preacher stray’d; 100 - What call’d, he knew not--but the call obey’d, - Mild, idle, pensive, ever led by those - Who could some specious novelty propose; - Humbly he listen’d, while the preacher dwelt - On touching themes, and strong emotions felt; - And in this night was fix’d that pliant will - To one sole point, and he retains it still. - At first his care was to himself confined; - Himself assured, he gave it to mankind: - His zeal grew active--honest, earnest zeal, 110 - And comfort dealt to him, he long’d to deal; - He to his favourite preacher now withdrew, - Was taught to teach, instructed to subdue; - And train’d for ghostly warfare, when the call - Of his new duties reach’d him from the hall. - Now to the ’squire, although alert and stout, - Came unexpected an attack of gout; - And the grieved patron felt such serious pain, - He never thought to see a church again. - Thrice had the youthful rector taught the crowd, 120 - Whose growing numbers spoke his powers aloud, - Before the patron could himself rejoice - (His pain still lingering) in the general voice; - For he imputed all this early fame - To graceful manner, and the well-known name; - And to himself assumed a share of praise, - For worth and talents he was pleased to raise. - A month had flown, and with it fled disease; - What pleased before, began again to please; - Emerging daily from his chamber’s gloom, 130 - He found his old sensations hurrying home; - Then call’d his nephew, and exclaim’d, “My boy, - Let us again the balm of life enjoy; - The foe has left me, and I deem it right, - Should he return, to arm me for the fight.” - Thus spoke the ’squire, the favourite nymph stood by, - And view’d the priest with insult in her eye. - She thrice had heard him when he boldly spoke - On dangerous points, and fear’d he would revoke; - For James she loved not--and her manner told, 140 - “This warm affection will be quickly cold.” - And still she fear’d impression might be made - Upon a subject nervous and decay’d; - She knew her danger, and had no desire - Of reformation in the gallant ’squire; - And felt an envious pleasure in her breast - To see the rector daunted and distress’d. - Again the uncle to the youth applied-- - “Cast, my dear lad, that cursed gloom aside: - There are for all things time and place; appear 150 - Grave in your pulpit, and be merry here. - Now take your wine--for woes a sure resource, - And the best prelude to a long discourse.” - James half obey’d, but cast an angry eye - On the fair lass, who still stood watchful by; - Resolving thus, “I have my fears--but still - I must perform my duties, and I will; - No love, no interest, shall my mind control; - Better to lose my comforts than my soul; - Better my uncle’s favour to abjure, 160 - Than the upbraidings of my heart endure.” - He took his glass, and then address’d the ’squire: - “I feel not well, permit me to retire.” - The ’squire conceived that the ensuing day - Gave him these terrors for the grand essay, - When he himself should this young preacher try, - And stand before him with observant eye; - This raised compassion in his manly breast, - And he would send the rector to his rest; - Yet first, in soothing voice--“A moment stay, 170 - And these suggestions of a friend obey; - Treasure these hints, if fame or peace you prize-- - The bottle emptied, I shall close my eyes. - “On every priest a two-fold care attends, - To prove his talents, and insure his friends: - First, of the first--your stores at once produce, - And bring your reading to its proper use; - On doctrines dwell, and every point enforce - By quoting much, the scholar’s sure resource; - For he alone can show us on each head 180 - What ancient schoolmen and sage fathers said: - No worth has knowledge, if you fail to show - How well you studied, and how much you know. - Is faith your subject, and you judge it right - On theme so dark to cast a ray of light: - Be it that faith the orthodox maintain, - Found in the rubrick, what the creeds explain; - Fail not to show us on this ancient faith - (And quote the passage) what some martyr saith. - Dwell not one moment on a faith that shocks 190 - The minds of men sincere and orthodox: - That gloomy faith, that robs the wounded mind - Of all the comfort it was wont to find - From virtuous acts, and to the soul denies - Its proper due for alms and charities; - That partial faith, that, weighing sins alone, - Lets not a virtue for a fault atone; - That starving faith, that would our tables clear, - And make one dreadful Lent of all the year; - And cruel too, for this is faith that rends 200 - Confiding beauties from protecting friends; - A faith that all embracing, what a gloom - Deep and terrific o’er the land would come! - What scenes of horror would that time disclose! - No sight but misery, and no sound but woes; - Your nobler faith, in loftier style convey’d, - Shall be with praise and admiration paid. - On points like these your hearers all admire - A preacher’s depth, and nothing more require; - Shall we a studious youth to college send, 210 - That every clown his words may comprehend? - ’Tis for your glory, when your hearers own - Your learning matchless, but the sense unknown. - “Thus honour gain’d, learn now to gain a friend, - And the sure way is--never to offend; - For, James, consider--what your neighbours do - Is their own business, and concerns not you. - Shun all resemblance to that forward race - Who preach of sins before a sinner’s face; - And seem as if they overlook’d a pew, 220 - Only to drag a failing man in view. - Much should I feel, when groaning in disease, - If a rough hand upon my limb should seize; - But great my anger, if this hand were found - The very doctor’s, who should make it sound; - So feel our minds, young priest, so doubly feel, - When hurt by those whose office is to heal. - “Yet of our duties you must something tell, - And must at times on sin and frailty dwell; - Here you may preach in easy, flowing style, 230 - How errors cloud us, and how sins defile; - Here bring persuasive tropes and figures forth, - To show the poor that wealth is nothing worth; - That they, in fact, possess an ample share - Of the world’s good, and feel not half its care; - Give them this comfort, and, indeed, my gout - In its full vigour causes me some doubt; - And let it always, for your zeal, suffice, - That vice you combat, in the abstract--vice: - The very captious will be quiet then; 240 - We all confess we are offending men. - In lashing sin, of every stroke beware, - For sinners feel, and sinners you must spare; - In general satire, every man perceives - A slight attack, yet neither fears nor grieves; - But name th’ offence, and you absolve the rest, - And point the dagger at a single breast. - “Yet are there sinners of a class so low, - That you with safety may the lash bestow: - Poachers, and drunkards, idle rogues, who feed 250 - At others’ cost, a mark’d correction need; - And all the better sort, who see your zeal, - Will love and reverence for their pastor feel; - Reverence for one who can inflict the smart, - And love, because he deals them not a part. - “Remember well what love and age advise; - A quiet rector is a parish prize, - Who in his learning has a decent pride; - Who to his people is a gentle guide; - Who only hints at failings that he sees; } 260 - Who loves his glebe, his patron, and his ease, } - And finds the way to fame and profit is to please.” } - The nephew answer’d not, except a sigh - And look of sorrow might be term’d reply; - He saw the fearful hazard of his state, - And held with truth and safety strong debate; - Nor long he reason’d, for the zealous youth - Resolved, though timid, to profess the truth; - And, though his friend should like a lion roar, - Truth would he preach, and neither less nor more. 270 - The bells had toll’d--arrived the time of prayer, - The flock assembled, and the ’squire was there: - And now can poet sing, or proseman say, - The disappointment of that trying day? - As he who long had train’d a favourite steed - (Whose blood and bone gave promise of his speed), - Sanguine with hope, he runs with partial eye - O’er every feature, and his bets are high; - Of triumph sure, he sees the rivals start, - And waits their coming with exulting heart; 280 - Forestalling glory, with impatient glance, - And sure to see his conquering steed advance; - The conquering steed advances--luckless day! - A rival’s Herod bears the prize away; - Nor second his, nor third, but lagging last, - With hanging head he comes, by all surpass’d; - Surprise and wrath the owner’s mind inflame, - Love turns to scorn, and glory ends in shame:-- - Thus waited, high in hope, the partial ’squire, - Eager to hear, impatient to admire. 290 - When the young preacher in the tones that find - A certain passage to the kindling mind, - With air and accent strange, impressive, sad, - Alarm’d the judge--he trembled for the lad; - But when the text announced the power of grace, } - Amazement scowl’d upon his clouded face, } - At this degenerate son of his illustrious race; } - Staring he stood, till hope again arose, - That James might well define the words he chose: - For this he listen’d--but, alas! he found 300 - The preacher always on forbidden ground. - And now the uncle left the hated pew, - With James, and James’s conduct in his view. - A long farewell to all his favourite schemes! } - For now no crazed fanatic’s frantic dreams } - Seem’d vile as James’s conduct, or as James. } - All he had long derided, hated, fear’d, - This from the chosen youth the uncle heard-- - The needless pause, the fierce disorder’d air, - The groan for sin, the vehemence of prayer, 310 - Gave birth to wrath, that, in a long discourse - Of grace, triumphant rose to four-fold force. - He found his thoughts despised, his rules transgress’d; } - And, while the anger kindled in his breast, } - The pain must be endured that could not be express’d. } - Each new idea more inflamed his ire, - As fuel thrown upon a rising fire: - A hearer yet, he sought by threatening sign - To ease his heart, and awe the young divine; - But James refused those angry looks to meet, 320 - Till he dismiss’d his flock, and left his seat. - Exhausted then he felt his trembling frame, - But fix’d his soul--his sentiments the same; - And therefore wise it seem’d to fly from rage, - And seek for shelter in his parsonage: - There, if forsaken, yet consoled to find - Some comforts left, though not a few resign’d; - There, if he lost an erring parent’s love, - An honest conscience must the cause approve; - If the nice palate were no longer fed, 330 - The mind enjoy’d delicious thoughts instead; - And if some part of earthly good was flown, - Still was the tithe of ten good farms his own. - Fear now, and discord, in the village reign, } - The cool remonstrate, and the meek complain; } - But there is war within, and wisdom pleads in vain. } - Now dreads the uncle, and proclaims his dread, - Lest the boy-priest should turn each rustic head; - The certain converts cost him certain wo; - The doubtful fear lest they should join the foe; 340 - Matrons of old, with whom he used to joke, - Now pass his Honour with a pious look; - Lasses, who met him once with lively airs, - Now cross his way, and gravely walk to prayers; - An old companion, whom he long has loved, - By coward fears confess’d his conscience moved; - As the third bottle gave its spirit forth. - And they bore witness to departed worth, - The friend arose, and he too would depart-- - “Man,” said the ’squire, “thou wert not wont to start; 350 - Hast thou attended to that foolish boy, - Who would abridge all comforts, or destroy?” - Yes, he had listen’d, who had slumber’d long, - And was convinced that something must be wrong; - But, though affected, still his yielding heart, - And craving palate, took the uncle’s part. - Wine now oppress’d him, who, when free from wine, - Could seldom clearly utter his design; - But, though by nature and indulgence weak, - Yet, half-converted, he resolved to speak; 360 - And, speaking, own’d, “that in his mind the youth - Had gifts and learning, and that truth was truth. - The ’squire he honour’d, and, for his poor part, - He hated nothing like a hollow heart; - But ’twas a maxim he had often tried, - That right was right, and there he would abide; - He honour’d learning, and he would confess - The preacher had his talents--more or less: - Why not agree? he thought the young divine - Had no such strictness--they might drink and dine, 370 - For them sufficient--but he said before, - That truth was truth, and he would drink no more.” - This heard the ’squire with mix’d contempt and pain; - He fear’d the priest this recreant sot would gain. - The favourite nymph, though not a convert made, - Conceived the man she scorn’d her cause would aid; - And when the spirits of her lord were low, - The lass presumed the wicked cause to show: - “It was the wretched life his Honour led, - And would draw vengeance on his guilty head; 380 - Their loves (Heav’n knew how dreadfully distress’d - The thought had made her!) were as yet unbless’d: - And till the church had sanction’d”--here she saw - The wrath that forced her trembling to withdraw. - Add to these outward ills some inward light, - That show’d him all was not correct and right: - Though now he less indulged--and to the poor, - From day to day, sent alms from door to door; - Though he some ease from easy virtues found, - Yet conscience told him he could not compound; 390 - But must himself the darling sin deny, } - Change the whole heart--but here a heavy sigh } - Proclaim’d, “How vast the toil! and ah! how weak am I!” } - James too has trouble--he divided sees - A parish, once harmonious and at ease: - With him united are the simply meek, - The warm, the sad, the nervous, and the weak; - The rest his uncle’s, save the few beside, - Who own no doctrine, and obey no guide; - With stragglers of each adverse camp, who lend 400 - Their aid to both, but each in turn offend. - Though zealous still, yet he begins to feel - The heat too fierce, that glows in vulgar zeal; - With pain he hears his simple friends relate - Their week’s experience, and their woful state: - With small temptation struggling every hour, - And bravely battling with the tempting power; - His native sense is hurt by strange complaints - Of inward motions in these warring saints: - Who never cast on sinful bait a look 410 - But they perceive the devil at the hook. - Grieved, yet compell’d to smile, he finds it hard - Against the blunders of conceit to guard; - He sighs to hear the jests his converts cause, - He cannot give their erring zeal applause; - But finds it inconsistent to condemn - The flights and follies he has nursed in them: - These, in opposing minds, contempt produce, - Or mirth occasion, or provoke abuse; - On each momentous theme disgrace they bring, 420 - And give to Scorn her poison and her sting. - - - - -TALE XVI. - -_THE CONFIDANT._ - - - Think’st thou I’d make a life of jealousy, - To follow still the changes of the moon, - With fresh suspicion? - _Othello_, Act III. Scene 3. - - Why hast thou lost the fresh blood in thy cheeks, - And given my treasure and my rights [of] thee - To thick-eyed musing and cursed melancholy? - 1 _Henry IV._ Act II. Scene 3. - - It is excellent - To have a giant’s strength, but [it is] tyrannous - To use it as a giant. - _Measure for Measure_, Act II. Scene 2. - - -TALE XVI. - -_THE CONFIDANT._ - - Anna was young and lovely--in her eye - The glance of beauty, in her cheek the dye; - Her shape was slender, and her features small, - But graceful, easy, unaffected all. - The liveliest tints her youthful face disclosed; - There beauty sparkled, and there health reposed; - For the pure blood that flush’d that rosy cheek - Spoke what the heart forbad the tongue to speak; - And told the feelings of that heart as well, - Nay, with more candour than the tongue could tell. 10 - Though this fair lass had with the wealthy dwelt, - Yet like the damsel of the cot she felt; - And, at the distant hint or dark surmise, - The blood into the mantling cheek would rise. - Now Anna’s station frequent terrors wrought - In one whose looks were with such meaning fraught; - For on a lady, as an humble friend, - It was her painful office to attend. - Her duties here were of the usual kind-- - And some the body harass’d, some the mind: 20 - Billets she wrote, and tender stories read, - To make the lady sleepy in her bed; - She play’d at whist, but with inferior skill, - And heard the summons as a call to drill; - Music was ever pleasant till she play’d - At a request that no request convey’d; - The lady’s tales with anxious looks she heard, - For she must witness what her friend averr’d; - The lady’s taste she must in all approve, - Hate whom she hated, whom she loved must love; 30 - These, with the various duties of her place, - With care she studied, and perform’d with grace; - She veil’d her troubles in a mask of ease, - And show’d her pleasure was a power to please. - Such were the damsel’s duties; she was poor-- - Above a servant, but with service more. - Men on her face with careless freedom gazed, - Nor thought how painful was the glow they raised; - A wealthy few to gain her favour tried, - But not the favour of a grateful bride: 40 - They spoke their purpose with an easy air, - That shamed and frighten’d the dependent fair: - Past time she view’d, the passing time to cheat, - But nothing found to make the present sweet; - With pensive soul she read life’s future page, - And saw dependent, poor, repining age. - But who shall dare t’ assert what _years_ may bring, - When wonders from the passing _hour_ may spring?-- - There dwelt a yeoman in the place, whose mind - Was gentle, generous, cultivated, kind; 50 - For thirty years he labour’d; fortune then - Placed the mild rustic with superior men: - A richer Stafford, who had lived to save, - What he had treasured to the poorer gave; - Who with a sober mind that treasure view’d, - And the slight studies of his youth renew’d. - He not profoundly, but discreetly read, - And a fair mind with useful culture fed; - Then thought of marriage--“But the great,” said he, - “I shall not suit, nor will the meaner me.” 60 - Anna he saw, admired her modest air; - He thought her virtuous, and he knew her fair; - Love raised his pity for her humble state, - And prompted wishes for her happier fate; - No pride in money would his feelings wound, - Nor vulgar manners hurt him and confound: - He then the lady at the hall address’d, - Sought her consent, and his regard express’d; - Yet, if some cause his earnest wish denied, - He begg’d to know it; and he bow’d and sigh’d. 70 - The lady own’d that she was loth to part, - But praised the damsel for her gentle heart, - Her pleasing person, and her blooming health; - But ended thus, “Her virtue is her wealth.” - “Then is she rich!” he cried, with lively air; - “But whence, so please you, came a lass so fair?” - “A placeman’s child was Anna, one who died - And left a widow by afflictions tried; - She to support her infant daughter strove, - But early left the object of her love; 80 - Her youth, her beauty, and her orphan-state - Gave a kind countess interest in her fate; - With her she dwelt, and still might dwelling be, - When the earl’s folly caused the lass to flee; - A second friend was she compell’d to shun, - By the rude offers of an uncheck’d son; - I found her then, and with a mother’s love - Regard the gentle girl whom you approve. - Yet, e’en with me, protection is not peace; - Nor man’s designs, nor beauty’s trial, cease; 90 - Like sordid boys by costly fruit they feel: - They will not purchase, but they try to steal.” - Now this good lady, like a witness true, - Told but the truth, and all the truth she knew; - And ’tis our duty and our pain to show - Truth this good lady had not means to know. - Yes, there was lock’d within the damsel’s breast - A fact important to be now confess’d; - Gently, my muse, th’ afflicting tale relate, - And have some feeling for a sister’s fate. 100 - Where Anna dwelt, a conquering hero came-- - An Irish captain, Sedley was his name; - And he too had that same prevailing art, - That gave soft wishes to the virgin’s heart. - In years they differ’d; he had thirty seen - When this young beauty counted just fifteen; - But still they were a lovely lively pair, - And trod on earth as if they trod on air. - On love, delightful theme! the captain dwelt - With force still growing with the hopes he felt; 110 - But with some caution and reluctance told, - He had a father crafty, harsh, and old; - Who, as possessing much, would much expect, - Or both, for ever, from his love reject: - Why then offence to one so powerful give, - Who (for their comfort) had not long to live? - With this poor prospect the deluded maid, - In words confiding, was indeed betray’d; - And, soon as terrors in her bosom rose, - The hero fled; they hinder’d his repose. 120 - Deprived of him, she to a parent’s breast - Her secret trusted, and her pains impress’d: - Let her to town (so prudence urged) repair, - To shun disgrace, at least to hide it there; - But ere she went, the luckless damsel pray’d - A chosen friend might lend her timely aid: - “Yes! my soul’s sister, my Eliza, come, - Hear her last sigh, and ease thy Anna’s doom:” - “’Tis a fool’s wish,” the angry father cried, - But, lost in troubles of his own, complied; 130 - And dear Eliza to her friend was sent, - T’ indulge that wish, and be her punishment: - The time arrived, and brought a tenfold dread; - The time was past, and all the terror fled; - The infant died; the face resumed each charm, - And reason now brought trouble and alarm: - “Should her Eliza--no! she was too just, - Too good and kind--but ah! too young to trust.” - Anna return’d, her former place resumed, - And faded beauty with new grace re-bloom’d; 140 - And, if some whispers of the past were heard, - They died innoxious, as no cause appear’d; - But other cares on Anna’s bosom press’d, - She saw her father gloomy and distress’d; - He died o’erwhelm’d with debt, and soon was shed } - The filial sorrow o’er a mother dead: } - She sought Eliza’s arms, that faithful friend was wed; } - Then was compassion by the countess shown, - And all th’ adventures of her life are known. - And now beyond her hopes--no longer tried 150 - By slavish awe--she lived a yeoman’s bride; - Then bless’d her lot, and with a grateful mind - Was careful, cheerful, vigilant, and kind. - The gentle husband felt supreme delight, - Bless’d by her joy, and happy in her sight; - He saw with pride in every friend and guest - High admiration and regard express’d; - With greater pride, and with superior joy, - He look’d exulting on his first-born boy; - To her fond breast the wife her infant strain’d, 160 - Some feelings utter’d, some were not explain’d; - And she enraptured with her treasure grew, - The sight familiar, but the pleasure new. - Yet there appear’d within that tranquil state - Some threat’ning prospect of uncertain fate; - Between the married when a secret lies, - It wakes suspicion from enforced disguise. - Still thought the wife upon her absent friend, - With all that must upon her truth depend: - “There is no being in the world beside, 170 - Who can discover what that friend will hide; - Who knew the fact, knew not my name or state, - Who these can tell cannot the fact relate; - But thou, Eliza, canst the whole impart, - And all my safety is thy generous heart.” - Mix’d with these fears--but light and transient these-- - Fled years of peace, prosperity, and ease; - So tranquil all that scarce a gloomy day - For days of gloom unmix’d prepared the way. - One eve, the wife, still happy in her state, 180 - Sang gaily, thoughtless of approaching fate; - Then came a letter, that (received in dread - Not unobserved) she in confusion read; - The substance this--“Her friend rejoiced to find - That she had riches with a grateful mind; - While poor Eliza had from place to place - Been lured by hope to labour for disgrace; - That every scheme her wandering husband tried, - Pain’d while he lived, and perish’d when he died.” - She then of want in angry style complain’d: } 190 - Her child a burthen to her life remain’d, } - Her kindred shunn’d her prayers, no friend her } - soul sustain’d. } - “Yet why neglected? Dearest Anna knew - Her worth once tried, her friendship ever true; - She hoped, she trusted, though by wants oppress’d, - To lock the treasured secret in her breast; - Yet, vex’d by trouble, must apply to one, - For kindness due to her for kindness done.” - In Anna’s mind was tumult; in her face - Flushings of dread had momentary place. 200 - “I must,” she judged, “these cruel lines expose, - Or fears, or worse than fears, my crime disclose.” - The letter shown, he said, with sober smile-- - “Anna, your friend has not a friendly style. - Say, where could you with this fair lady dwell, - Who boasts of secrets that she scorns to tell?” - “At school,” she answer’d; he “at school!” replied; - “Nay, then I know the secrets you would hide: - Some [early] longings these, without dispute; - Some youthful gaspings for forbidden fruit. 210 - Why so disorder’d, love? are such the crimes - That give us sorrow in our graver times? - Come, take a present for your friend, and rest - In perfect peace--you find you are confess’d.” - This cloud, though past, alarm’d the conscious wife, - Presaging gloom and sorrow for her life; - Who to her answer join’d a fervent prayer, - That her Eliza would a sister spare: - If she again--but was there cause?--should send, - Let her direct--and then she named a friend.-- 220 - A sad expedient, untried friends to trust, - And still to fear the tried may be unjust: - Such is his pain, who, by his debt oppress’d, - Seeks by new bonds a temporary rest. - Few were her peaceful days till Anna read - The words she dreaded, and had cause to dread:-- - “Did she believe, did she, unkind, suppose - That thus Eliza’s friendship was to close? - No! though she tried, and her desire was plain, - To break the friendly bond, she strove in vain: 230 - Ask’d she for silence? why so loud the call, - And yet the token of her love so small? - By means like these will you attempt to bind - And check the movements of an injured mind? - Poor as I am, I shall be proud to show - What dangerous secrets I may safely know. - Secrets, to men of jealous minds convey’d, - Have many a noble house in ruins laid; - Anna, I trust, although with wrongs beset, - And urged by want, I shall be faithful yet; 240 - But what temptation may from these arise, - To take a slighted woman by surprise, - Becomes a subject for your serious care-- - For who offends, must for offence prepare.” - Perplex’d, dismay’d, the wife foresaw her doom; - A day deferr’d was yet a day to come; - But still, though painful her suspended state, - She dreaded more the crisis of her fate; - Better to die than Stafford’s scorn to meet, - And her strange friend perhaps would be discreet. 250 - Presents she sent, and made a strong appeal - To woman’s feelings, begging her to feel; - With too much force she wrote of jealous men, - And her tears falling spoke beyond the pen; - Eliza’s silence she again implored, - And promised all that prudence could afford. - For looks composed and careless Anna tried; - She seem’d in trouble, and unconscious sigh’d: - The faithful husband, who devoutly loved - His silent partner, with concern reproved: 260 - “What secret sorrows on my Anna press, - That love may not partake, nor care redress?” - “None, none,” she answer’d, with a look so kind, - That the fond man determined to be blind. - A few succeeding weeks of brief repose - In Anna’s cheek revived the faded rose; - A hue like this the western sky displays, - That glows awhile, and withers as we gaze. - Again the friend’s tormenting letter came-- - “The wants she suffer’d were affection’s shame; 270 - She with her child a life of terrors led, - Unhappy fruit! but of a lawful bed. - Her friend was tasting every bliss in life, - The joyful mother, and the wealthy wife; - While she was placed in doubt, in fear, in want, - To starve on trifles that the happy grant; - Poorly for all her faithful silence paid, - And tantalized by ineffectual aid. - She could not thus a beggar’s lot endure; - She wanted something permanent and sure: 280 - If they were friends, then equal be their lot, - And she was free to speak if they were not.” - Despair and terror seized the wife, to find - The artful workings of a vulgar mind: - Money she had not, but the hint of dress - Taught her new bribes, new terrors to redress; - She with such feeling then described her woes, - That envy’s self might on the view repose; - Then to a mother’s pains she made appeal, - And painted grief like one compell’d to feel. 290 - Yes! so she felt, that in her air, her face, - In every purpose, and in every place; - In her slow motion, in her languid mien, - The grief, the sickness of her soul were seen. - Of some mysterious ill the husband sure, - Desired to trace it, for he hoped to cure; - Something he knew obscurely, and had seen - His wife attend a cottage on the green; - Love, loth to wound, endured conjecture long, - Till fear would speak, and spoke in language strong. 300 - “All I must know, my Anna--truly know - Whence these emotions, terrors, troubles flow; - Give me thy grief, and I will fairly prove - Mine is no selfish, no ungenerous love.” - Now Anna’s soul the seat of strife became: - Fear with respect contended, love with shame; - But fear, prevailing, was the ruling guide, - Prescribing what to show and what to hide. - “It is my friend,” she said--“but why disclose - A woman’s weakness struggling with her woes? 310 - Yes, she has grieved me by her fond complaints, - The wrongs she suffers, the distress she paints; - Something we do--but she afflicts me still, - And says, with power to help, I want the will. - This plaintive style I pity and excuse, - Help when I can, and grieve when I refuse; - But here my useless sorrows I resign, - And will be happy in a love like thine.” - The husband doubted; he was kind but cool:-- - “’Tis a strong friendship to arise at school; 320 - Once more then, love, once more the sufferer aid-- - I too can pity, but I must upbraid; - Of these vain feelings then thy bosom free, - Nor be o’erwhelm’d by useless sympathy.” - The wife again despatch’d the useless bribe, - Again essay’d her terrors to describe; - Again with kindest words entreated peace, - And begg’d her offerings for a time might cease. - A calm succeeded, but too like the one - That causes terror ere the storm comes on: 330 - A secret sorrow lived in Anna’s heart, - In Stafford’s mind a secret fear of art; - Not long they lasted--this determined foe - Knew all her claims, and nothing would forego; - Again her letter came, where Anna read, - “My child, one cause of my distress, is dead; - Heav’n has my infant.” “Heartless wretch!” she cried, - “Is this thy joy?”--“I am no longer tied: - Now will I, hast’ning to my friend, partake - Her cares and comforts, and no more forsake; 340 - Now shall we both in equal station move, - Save that my friend enjoys a husband’s love.” - Complaint and threats so strong the wife amazed, - Who wildly on her cottage-neighbour gazed; - Her tones, her trembling, first betray’d her grief; - When floods of tears gave anguish its relief. - She fear’d that Stafford would refuse assent, - And knew her selfish friend would not relent; - She must petition, yet delay’d the task, - Ashamed, afraid, and yet compell’d to ask; 350 - Unknown to him some object filled her mind, - And, once suspicious, he became unkind.-- - They sate one evening, each absorb’d in gloom, } - When, hark! a noise and rushing to the room, } - The friend tripp’d lightly in, and laughing said, “I come.” } - Anna received her with an anxious mind, - And meeting whisper’d, “Is Eliza kind?” - Reserved and cool, the husband sought to prove - The depth and force of this mysterious love. - To nought that pass’d between the stranger-friend 360 - And his meek partner seem’d he to attend; - But, anxious, listen’d to the lightest word - That might some knowledge of his guest afford; - And learn the reason one to him so dear - Should feel such fondness, yet betray such fear. - Soon he perceived this uninvited guest, - Unwelcome too, a sovereign power possess’d; - Lofty she was and careless, while the meek - And humbled Anna was afraid to speak: - As mute she listen’d with a painful smile, 370 - Her friend sate laughing and at ease the while, - Telling her idle tales with all the glee - Of careless and unfeeling levity. - With calm good sense he knew his wife endued, - And now with wounded pride her conduct view’d; - Her speech was low, her every look convey’d-- - “I am a slave, subservient and afraid.” - All trace of comfort vanish’d if she spoke; - The noisy friend upon her purpose broke, - To her remarks with insolence replied, 380 - And her assertions doubted or denied; - While the meek Anna like an infant shook, - Wo-struck and trembling at the serpent’s look. - “There is,” said Stafford, “yes, there is a cause-- - This creature frights her, overpowers and awes.” - Six weeks had pass’d--“In truth, my love, this friend - Has liberal notions; what does she intend? - Without a hint she came, and will she stay - Till she receives the hint to go away?” - Confused the wife replied, in spite of truth, 390 - “I love the dear companion of my youth.” - “’Tis well,” said Stafford; “then your loves renew; - Trust me, your rivals, Anna, will be few.” - Though playful this, she felt too much distress’d - T’ admit the consolation of a jest; - Ill she reposed, and in her dreams would sigh - And, murmuring forth her anguish, beg to die; - With sunken eye, slow pace, and pallid cheek, - She look’d confusion, and she fear’d to speak. - All this the friend beheld, for, quick of sight, 400 - She knew the husband eager for her flight; - And that by force alone she could retain - The lasting comforts she had hope to gain: - She now perceived, to win her post for life, - She must infuse fresh terrors in the wife; - Must bid to friendship’s feebler ties adieu, - And boldly claim the object in her view; - She saw the husband’s love, and knew the power - Her friend might use in some propitious hour. - Meantime the anxious wife, from pure distress 410 - Assuming courage, said, “I will confess;” - But with her children felt a parent’s pride, - And sought once more the hated truth to hide. - Offended, grieved, impatient, Stafford bore - The odious change till he could bear no more. - A friend to truth, in speech and action plain, - He held all fraud and cunning in disdain; - But fraud to find, and falsehood to detect, - For once he fled to measures indirect. - One day the friends were seated in that room 420 - The guest with care adorn’d, and named her home. - To please the eye, there curious prints were placed, - And some light volumes to amuse the taste; - Letters and music, on a table laid, - The favourite studies of the fair betray’d; - Beneath the window was the toilet spread, - And the fire gleam’d upon a crimson bed. - In Anna’s looks and falling tears were seen - How interesting had their subjects been: - “Oh! then,” resumed the friend, “I plainly find 430 - That you and Stafford know each other’s mind; - I must depart, must on the world be thrown, - Like one discarded, worthless and unknown; - But shall I carry, and to please a foe, - A painful secret in my bosom? No! - Think not your friend a reptile you may tread - Beneath your feet, and say, the worm is dead: - I have some feeling, and will not be made - The scorn of her whom love cannot persuade. - Would not your word, your slightest wish, effect 440 - All that I hope, petition, or expect? - The power you have, but you the use decline-- - Proof that you feel not, or you fear not mine. - There was a time, when I, a tender maid, - Flew at a call, and your desires obey’d; - A very mother to the child became, - Consoled your sorrow, and conceal’d your shame; - But now, grown rich and happy, from the door - You thrust a bosom-friend, despised and poor; - That child alive, its mother might have known 450 - The hard, ungrateful spirit she has shown.” - Here paused the guest, and Anna cried at length-- - “You try me, cruel friend! beyond my strength; - Would I had been beside my infant laid, - Where none would vex me, threaten, or upbraid.” - In Anna’s looks the friend beheld despair; - Her speech she soften’d, and composed her air; - Yet, while professing love, she answered still-- - “You can befriend me, but you want the will.” - They parted thus, and Anna went her way, 460 - To shed her secret sorrows, and to pray. - Stafford, amused with books, and fond of home, - By reading oft dispell’d the evening gloom; - History or tale--all heard him with delight, - And thus was pass’d this memorable night. - The listening friend bestow’d a flattering smile; - A sleeping boy the mother held the while; - And, ere she fondly bore him to his bed, - On his fair face the tear of anguish shed. - And now, his task resumed, “My tale,” said he, 470 - “Is short and sad, short may our sadness be!”-- - “The Caliph Harun[8], as historians tell, - Ruled, for a tyrant, admirably well; - Where his own pleasures were not touch’d, to men - He was humane, and sometimes even then. - Harun was fond of fruits, and gardens fair; - And wo to all whom he found poaching there. - Among his pages was a lively boy, - Eager in search of every trifling joy; - His feelings vivid, and his fancy strong, 480 - He sigh’d for pleasure while he shrank from wrong; - When by the caliph in the garden placed, - He saw the treasures which he long’d to taste; - And oft alone he ventured to behold - Rich hanging fruits with rind of glowing gold; - Too long he staid forbidden bliss to view, - His virtue failing, as his longings grew; - Athirst and wearied with the noon-tide heat, - Fate to the garden led his luckless feet; - With eager eyes and open mouth he stood, 490 - Smelt the sweet breath, and touch’d the fragrant food; - The tempting beauty sparkling in the sun - Charm’d his young sense--he ate, and was undone. - When the fond glutton paused, his eyes around - He turn’d, and eyes upon him turning found; - Pleased he beheld the spy, a brother-page, - A friend allied in office and in age; - Who promised much that secret he would be, - But high the price he fix’d on secrecy. - “‘Were you suspected, my unhappy friend,’ 500 - Began the boy, ‘where would your sorrows end? - In all the palace there is not a page - The caliph would not torture in his rage: - I think I see thee now impaled alive, - Writhing in pangs--but come, my friend! revive; - Had some beheld you, all your purse contains - Could not have saved you from terrific pains; - I scorn such meanness; and, if not in debt, - Would not an asper on your folly set.’ - “The hint was strong; young Osmyn search’d his store - For bribes, and found he soon could bribe no more; 511 - That time arrived, for Osmyn’s stock was small, - And the young tyrant now possess’d it all; - The cruel youth, with his companions near, - Gave the broad hint that raised the sudden fear; - Th’ ungenerous insult now was daily shown, - And Osmyn’s peace and honest pride were flown; - Then came augmenting woes, and fancy strong - Drew forms of suffering, a tormenting throng; - He felt degraded, and the struggling mind 520 - Dared not be free, and could not be resign’d; - And all his pains and fervent prayers obtain’d - Was truce from insult, while the fears remain’d. - “One day it chanced that this degraded boy - And tyrant-friend were fix’d at their employ; - Who now had thrown restraint and form aside, - And for his bribe in plainer speech applied: - ‘Long have I waited, and the last supply - Was but a pittance, yet how patient I! - But, give me now what thy first terrors gave, 530 - My speech shall praise thee, and my silence save.’ - “Osmyn had found, in many a dreadful day, - The tyrant fiercer when he seem’d in play: - He begg’d forbearance: ‘I have not to give; - Spare me awhile, although ’tis pain to live. - Oh! had that stolen fruit the power possess’d - To war with life, I now had been at rest.’ - “‘So fond of death,’ replied the boy, ’’tis plain - Thou hast no certain notion of the pain; - But, to the caliph were a secret shown, 540 - Death has no pain that would be then unknown,’ - “Now,” says the story, “in a closet near, - The monarch, seated, chanced the boys to hear; - There oft he came, when wearied on his throne, - To read, sleep, listen, pray, or be alone. - “The tale proceeds: when first the caliph found - That he was robb’d, although alone, he frown’d; - And swore in wrath, that he would send the boy - Far from his notice, favour, or employ; - But gentler movements soothed his ruffled mind, 550 - And his own failings taught him to be kind. - “Relenting thoughts then painted Osmyn young, - His passion urgent, and temptation strong; - And that he suffer’d from that villain-spy - Pains worse than death till he desired to die; - Then, if his morals had received a stain, - His bitter sorrows made him pure again; - To Reason Pity lent her generous aid, - For one so tempted, troubled, and betray’d; - And a free pardon the glad boy restored 560 - To the kind presence of a gentle lord; - Who from his office and his country drove - That traitor-friend, whom pains nor pray’rs could move; - Who raised the fears no mortal could endure, - And then with cruel av’rice sold the cure. - “My tale is ended; but, to be applied, - I must describe the place where caliphs hide.” - Here both the females look’d alarm’d, distress’d, - With hurried passions hard to be express’d. - “It was a closet by a chamber placed, 570 - Where slept a lady of no vulgar taste; - Her friend attended in that chosen room - That she had honour’d and proclaim’d her home; - To please the eye were chosen pictures placed, - And some light volumes to amuse the taste; - Letters and music on a table laid, - For much the lady wrote, and often play’d; - Beneath the window was a toilet spread, - And a fire gleam’d upon a crimson bed.” - He paused, he rose; with troubled joy the wife 580 - Felt the new era of her changeful life; - Frankness and love appear’d in Stafford’s face, - And all her trouble to delight gave place. - Twice made the guest an effort to sustain } - Her feelings, twice resumed her seat in vain, } - Nor could suppress her shame, nor could support her pain. } - Quick she retired, and all the dismal night - Thought of her guilt, her folly, and her flight; - Then sought unseen her miserable home, - To think of comforts lost, and brood on wants to come. 590 - -[8] The sovereign here meant is the Haroun Alraschid, or Harun -al Rashid, who died early in the ninth century; he is often the -hearer, and sometimes the hero, of a tale in the Arabian Nights’ -Entertainments. - - - - -TALE XVII. - -_RESENTMENT._ - - - _She_ hath a tear for pity, and a hand - Open as day for melting charity; - Yet, notwithstanding, being incensed, is flint---- - _Her_ temper, therefore, must be well observ’d. - _2 Henry IV._ Act IV. Scene 4. - -Three or four wenches, where I stood, cried--“Alas! good soul!” and -forgave him with all their hearts; but [there’s] no heed to be taken -of them; if Cæsar had stabb’d their mothers, they would have done no -less. - _Julius Cæsar_, Act I. Scene 2. - - How dost . . .? Art cold? - I’m cold myself--Where is the straw, my fellow? - The art of our necessities is strange, - That can make vile things precious. - _King Lear_, Act III. Scene 2. - - -TALE XVII. - -_RESENTMENT._ - - Females there are of unsuspicious mind, - Easy and soft, and credulous and kind; - Who, when offended for the twentieth time, - Will hear th’ offender and forgive the crime; - And there are others whom, like these to cheat, - Asks but the humblest effort of deceit; - But they, once injured, feel a strong disdain, - And, seldom pardoning, never trust again; - Urged by religion, they forgive--but yet - Guard the warm heart, and never more forget. 10 - Those are like wax--apply them to the fire, - Melting, they take th’ impressions you desire; - Easy to mould, and fashion as you please, - And again moulded with an equal ease; - Like smelted iron these the forms retain, - But once impress’d will never melt again. - A busy port a serious merchant made - His chosen place to recommence his trade; - And brought his lady, who, their children dead, - Their native seat of recent sorrow fled. 20 - The husband duly on the quay was seen; - The wife at home became at length serene; - There in short time the social couple grew - With all acquainted, friendly with a few; - When the good lady, by disease assail’d, - In vain resisted--hope and science fail’d. - Then spake the female friends, by pity led, - “Poor merchant Paul! what think ye? will he wed? - A quiet, easy, kind, religious man, - Thus can he rest?--I wonder if he can.” 30 - He too, as grief subsided in his mind, - Gave place to notions of congenial kind; - Grave was the man, as we have told before; - His years were forty--he might pass for more; - Composed his features were, his stature low, - His air important, and his motion slow; - His dress became him, it was neat and plain, - The colour purple, and without a stain; - His words were few, and special was his care - In simplest terms his purpose to declare; 40 - A man more civil, sober, and discreet, - More grave and courteous, you could seldom meet. - Though frugal he, yet sumptuous was his board, - As if to prove how much he could afford; - For, though reserved himself, he loved to see - His table plenteous, and his neighbours free. - Among these friends he sat in solemn style, - And rarely soften’d to a sober smile; - For this observant friends their reasons gave-- - “Concerns so vast would make the idlest grave; 50 - And for such man to be of language free, - Would seem incongruous as a singing tree: - Trees have their music, but the birds they shield - The pleasing tribute for protection yield; - Each ample tree the tuneful choir defends, - As this rich merchant cheers his happy friends!” - In the same town it was his chance to meet - A gentle lady, with a mind discreet; - Neither in life’s decline, nor bloom of youth, - One fam’d for maiden modesty and truth. 60 - By nature cool, in pious habits bred, - She look’d on lovers with a virgin’s dread: - Deceivers, rakes, and libertines were they, - And harmless beauty their pursuit and prey; - As bad as giants in the ancient times - Were modern lovers, and the same their crimes. - Soon as she heard of her all-conquering charms, - At once she fled to her defensive arms; - Conn’d o’er the tales her maiden aunt had told, - And, statue-like, was motionless and cold; 70 - From prayer of love, like that Pygmalion pray’d, - Ere the hard stone became the yielding maid, - A different change in this chaste nymph ensued, - And turn’d to stone the breathing flesh and blood. - Whatever youth described his wounded heart, - “He came to rob her, and she scorn’d his art; - And who of raptures once presumed to speak, - Told listening maids he thought them fond and weak. - But should a worthy man his hopes display - In few plain words, and beg a _yes_ or _nay_, 80 - He would deserve an answer just and plain, } - Since adulation only moved disdain-- } - Sir, if my friends object not, come again.” } - Hence, our grave lover, though he liked the face, - Praised not a feature--dwelt not on a grace; - But in the simplest terms declared his state: - “A widow’d man, who wish’d a virtuous mate; - Who fear’d neglect, and was compell’d to trust - Dependents wasteful, idle, or unjust; - Or, should they not the trusted stores destroy, 90 - At best, they could not help him to enjoy; - But with her person and her prudence blest, - His acts would prosper, and his soul have rest. - Would she be his?”--“Why, that was much to say; - She would consider; he awhile might stay; - She liked his manners, and believed his word; - He did not flatter, flattery she abhorr’d; - It was her happy lot in peace to dwell-- - Would change make better what was now so well? - But she would ponder.”---“This,” he said, “was kind,” 100 - And begg’d to know “when she had fix’d her mind.” - Romantic maidens would have scorn’d the air, - And the cool prudence of a mind so fair; - But well it pleased this wiser maid to find - Her own mild virtues in her lover’s mind. - His worldly wealth she sought, and quickly grew - Pleased with her search, and happy in the view - Of vessels freighted with abundant stores, - Of rooms whose treasures press’d the groaning floors; - And he of clerks and servants could display 110 - A little army, on a public day: - Was this a man like needy bard to speak - Of balmy lip, bright eye, or rosy cheek? - The sum appointed for her widow’d state, - Fix’d by her friend, excited no debate; - Then the kind lady gave her hand and heart, - And, never finding, never dealt with art: - In his engagements she had no concern; - He taught her not, nor had she wish to learn: - On him in all occasions she relied, 120 - His word her surety, and his worth her pride. - When ship was launch’d, and merchant Paul had share, - A bounteous feast became the lady’s care; - Who then her entry to the dinner made, - In costly raiment, and with kind parade. - Call’d by this duty on a certain day, - And robed to grace it in a rich array, - Forth from her room with measured step she came, - Proud of th’ event, and stately look’d the dame. - The husband met her at his study-door-- 130 - “This way, my love--one moment and no more: - A trifling business--you will understand, - The law requires that you affix your hand; - But first attend, and you shall learn the cause - Why forms like these have been prescribed by laws:” - Then from his chair a man in black arose, - And with much quickness hurried off his prose: - That “Ellen Paul the wife, and so forth, freed - From all control, her own the act and deed, - And forasmuch”----said she, “I’ve no distrust, 140 - For he that asks it is discreet and just; - Our friends are waiting--where am I to sign?-- - There!--Now be ready when we meet to dine.” - This said, she hurried off in great delight: - The ship was launch’d, and joyful was the night. - Now, says the reader, and in much disdain, - This serious merchant was a rogue in grain; - A treacherous wretch, an artful, sober knave, - And ten times worse for manners cool and grave; - And she devoid of sense, to set her hand 150 - To scoundrel deeds she could not understand. - Alas! ’tis true; and I in vain had tried - To soften crime, that cannot be denied; - And might have labour’d many a tedious verse - The latent cause of mischief to rehearse: - Be it confess’d, that long with troubled look - This trader view’d a huge accompting-book - (His former marriage for a time delay’d - The dreaded hour, the present lent its aid); - But he too clearly saw the evil day, 160 - And put the terror, by deceit, away; - Thus by connecting with his sorrows crime, - He gain’d a portion of uneasy time.-- - All this too late the injured lady saw, - What law had given, again she gave to law; - His guilt, her folly--these at once impress’d - Their lasting feelings on her guileless breast. - “Shame I can bear,” she cried, “and want sustain, - But will not see this guilty wretch again:” - For all was lost, and he, with many a tear, 170 - Confess’d the fault--she turning scorn’d to hear. - To legal claims he yielded all his worth; - But small the portion, and the wrong’d were wroth, - Nor to their debtor would a part allow; - And where to live he knew not--knew not how. - The wife a cottage found, and thither went - The suppliant man, but she would not relent; - Thenceforth she utter’d with indignant tone, - “I feel the misery, and will feel alone.” - He would turn servant for her sake, would keep 180 - The poorest school; the very streets would sweep, - To show his love--“It was already shown, - And her affliction should be all her own. - His wants and weakness might have touch’d her heart, - But from his meanness she resolved to part.” - In a small alley was she lodged, beside - Its humblest poor, and at the view she cried: - “Welcome--yes! let me welcome, if I can, - The fortune dealt me by this cruel man; - Welcome this low thatch’d roof, this shatter’d door, 190 - These walls of clay, this miserable floor; - Welcome my envied neighbours; this, to you, - Is all familiar--all to me is new. - You have no hatred to the loathsome meal; } - Your firmer nerves no trembling terrors feel, } - Nor, what you must expose, desire you to conceal; } - What your coarse feelings bear without offence, - Disgusts my taste, and poisons every sense. - Daily shall I your sad relations hear, - Of wanton women, and of men severe; 200 - There will dire curses, dreadful oaths abound, - And vile expressions shock me and confound; - Noise of dull wheels, and songs with horrid words, - Will be the music that this lane affords; - Mirth that disgusts, and quarrels that degrade - The human mind, must my retreat invade. - Hard is my fate! yet easier to sustain, - Than to abide with guilt and fraud again, - A grave impostor--who expects to meet, - In such grey locks and gravity, deceit? 210 - Where the sea rages, and the billows roar, - Men know the danger, and they quit the shore; - But, be there nothing in the way descried, - When o’er the rocks smooth runs the wicked tide-- - Sinking unwarn’d, they execrate the shock, - And the dread peril of the sunken rock.” - A frowning world had now the man to dread, - Taught in no arts, to no profession bred; - Pining in grief, beset with constant care, - Wandering he went, to rest he knew not where. 220 - Meantime the wife--but she abjured the name-- - Endured her lot, and struggled with the shame: - When, lo! an uncle on the mother’s side, - In nature something, as in blood allied, - Admired her firmness, his protection gave, - And show’d a kindness she disdain’d to crave. - Frugal and rich the man, and frugal grew - The sister-mind, without a selfish view; - And further still--the temp’rate pair agreed - With what they saved the patient poor to feed. 230 - His whole estate, when to the grave consign’d, - Left the good kinsman to the kindred mind; - Assured that law, with spell secure and tight, - Had fix’d it as her own peculiar right. - Now to her ancient residence removed, - She lived as widow, well endow’d and loved; - Decent her table was, and to her door - Came daily welcomed the neglected poor. - The absent sick were soothed by her relief, - As her free bounty sought the haunts of grief; 240 - A plain and homely charity had she, - And loved the objects of her alms to see; - With her own hands she dress’d the savoury meat, - With her own fingers wrote the choice receipt; - She heard all tales that injured wives relate, - And took a double interest in their fate; - But of all husbands not a wretch was known - So vile, so mean, so cruel, as her own. - This bounteous lady kept an active spy, - To search th’ abodes of want, and to supply; 250 - The gentle Susan served the liberal dame-- - Unlike their notions, yet their deeds the same: - No practised villain could a victim find, - Than this stern lady more completely blind; - Nor (if detected in his fraud) could meet - One less disposed to pardon a deceit; - The wrong she treasured, and on no pretence - Received th’ offender, or forgot th’ offence; - But the kind servant, to the thrice-proved knave - A fourth time listen’d, and the past forgave. 260 - First in her youth, when she was blithe and gay, - Came a smooth rogue, and stole her love away; - Then to another and another flew, - To boast the wanton mischief he could do. - Yet she forgave him, though so great her pain, - That she was never blithe or gay again. - Then came a spoiler, who, with villain-art, - Implored her hand, and agonized her heart; - He seized her purse, in idle waste to spend - With a vile wanton, whom she call’d her friend; 270 - Five years she suffer’d--he had revell’d five-- - Then came to show her he was just alive; - Alone he came, his vile companion dead, - And he, a wand’ring pauper, wanting bread; - His body wasted, wither’d life and limb, - When this kind soul became a slave to him. - Nay, she was sure that, should he now survive, - No better husband would be left alive; - For him she mourn’d, and then, alone and poor, - Sought and found comfort at her lady’s door: 280 - Ten years she served, and, mercy her employ, - Her tasks were pleasure, and her duty joy. - Thus lived the mistress and the maid, design’d - Each other’s aid--one cautious, and both kind. - Oft at their window, working, they would sigh - To see the aged and the sick go by; - Like wounded bees, that at their home arrive, - Slowly and weak, but labouring for the hive. - The busy people of a mason’s yard - The curious lady view’d with much regard; 290 - With steady motion she perceived them draw - Through blocks of stone the slowly-working saw; - It gave her pleasure and surprise to see - Among these men the signs of revelry; - Cold was the season, and confined their view, - Tedious their tasks, but merry were the crew. - There she beheld an aged pauper wait, - Patient and still, to take an humble freight; - Within the panniers on an ass he laid - The ponderous grit, and for the portion paid; 300 - This he re-sold, and, with each trifling gift, - Made shift to live, and wretched was the shift. - Now will it be by every reader told - Who was this humble trader, poor and old.-- - In vain an author would a name suppress, - From the least hint a reader learns to guess; - Of children lost our novels sometimes treat; - We never care--assured again to meet. - In vain the writer for concealment tries, - We trace his purpose under all disguise; 310 - Nay, though he tells us they are dead and gone, - Of whom we wot--they will appear anon; - Our favourites fight, are wounded, hopeless lie; - Survive they cannot--nay, they cannot die: - Now, as these tricks and stratagems are known, - ’Tis best, at once, the simple truth to own. - This was the husband--in an humble shed - He nightly slept, and daily sought his bread. - Once for relief the weary man applied; - “Your wife is rich,” the angry vestry cried; 320 - Alas! he dared not to his wife complain, - Feeling her wrongs, and fearing her disdain: - By various methods he had tried to live, - But not one effort would subsistence give. - He was an usher in a school, till noise - Made him less able than the weaker boys; - On messages he went, till he in vain - Strove names, or words, or meanings to retain; - Each small employment in each neighbouring town - By turn he took, to lay as quickly down; 330 - For, such his fate, he fail’d in all he plann’d, - And nothing prosper’d in his luckless hand. - At his old home, his motive half suppress’d, - He sought no more for riches, but for rest: - There lived the bounteous wife, and at her gate - He saw in cheerful groups the needy wait; - “Had he a right with bolder hope t’ apply?” - He ask’d--was answer’d, and went groaning by; - For some remains of spirit, temper, pride, - Forbade a prayer he knew would be denied. 340 - Thus was the grieving man, with burthen’d ass, - Seen day by day along the street to pass: - “Who is he, Susan? who the poor old man? - He never calls--do make him, if you can.”-- - The conscious damsel still delay’d to speak, - She stopp’d confused, and had her words to seek; - From Susan’s fears the fact her mistress knew, - And cried--“The wretch! what scheme has he in view? - Is this his lot?--but let him, let him feel-- - Who wants the courage, not the will to steal.” 350 - A dreadful winter came, each day severe, - Misty when mild, and icy cold when clear; - And still the humble dealer took his load, - Returning slow, and shivering on the road: - The lady, still relentless, saw him come, - And said--“I wonder, has the wretch a home?”-- - “A hut! a hovel!”--“Then his fate appears - To suit his crime;”--“Yes, lady, not his years-- - No! nor his sufferings--nor that form decay’d.”-- - “Well! let the parish give its paupers aid; 360 - You must the vileness of his acts allow.”-- - “And you, dear lady, that he feels it now.”-- - “When such dissemblers on their deeds reflect, - Can they the pity they refused expect? - He that doth evil, evil shall he dread.”-- } - “The snow,” quoth Susan, “falls upon his bed-- } - It blows beside the thatch--it melts upon his head.”-- } - “’Tis weakness, child, for grieving guilt to feel.”-- - “Yes, but he never sees a wholesome meal; - Through his bare dress appears his shrivell’d skin, 370 - And ill he fares without, and worse within; - With that weak body, lame, diseased, and slow, - What cold, pain, peril, must the sufferer know!”-- - “Think on his crime.”--“Yes, sure ’twas very wrong; - But look, (God bless him!) how he gropes along.”-- - “Brought me to shame.”--“Oh! yes, I know it all-- } - What cutting blast! and he can scarcely crawl; } - He freezes as he moves--he dies! if he should fall. } - With cruel fierceness drives this icy sleet-- - And must a Christian perish in the street, 380 - In sight of Christians?--There! at last, he lies; - Nor unsupported can he ever rise: - He cannot live.”--“But is he fit to die?”-- - Here Susan softly mutter’d a reply, - Look’d round the room--said something of its state, - Dives the rich, and Lazarus at his gate; - And then, aloud--“In pity do behold - The man affrighten’d, weeping, trembling, cold. - Oh! how those flakes of snow their entrance win - Through the poor rags, and keep the frost within; 390 - His very heart seems frozen as he goes, - Leading that starved companion of his woes: - He tried to pray--his lips, I saw them move, - And he so turn’d his piteous looks above; - But the fierce wind the willing heart opposed, - And, ere he spoke, the lips in misery closed. - Poor suffering object! yes, for ease you pray’d, - And God will hear--he only, I’m afraid.”-- - “Peace! Susan, peace! Pain ever follows sin.”-- - “Ah! then,” thought Susan, “when will ours begin? 400 - When reach’d his home, to what a cheerless fire - And chilling bed will those cold limbs retire! - Yet ragged, wretched as it is, that bed - Takes half the space of his contracted shed; - I saw the thorns beside the narrow grate, - With straw collected in a putrid state. - There will he, kneeling, strive the fire to raise, - And that will warm him, rather than the blaze; - The sullen, smoky blaze, that cannot last - One moment after his attempt is past: 410 - And I so warmly and so purely laid, - To sink to rest--indeed, I am afraid.”-- - “Know you his conduct?”--“Yes, indeed, I know-- - And how he wanders in the wind and snow: - Safe in our rooms the threat’ning storm we hear, - But he feels strongly what we faintly fear.”-- - “Wilful was rich, and he the storm defied; - Wilful is poor, and must the storm abide;” - Said the stern lady;--“’tis in vain to feel; - Go and prepare the chicken for our meal.” 420 - Susan her task reluctantly began, - And utter’d as she went--“The poor old man!”-- - But while her soft and ever-yielding heart - Made strong protest against her lady’s part, - The lady’s self began to think it wrong, - To feel so wrathful and resent so long. - “No more the wretch would she receive again, - No more behold him--but she would sustain; - Great his offence, and evil was his mind-- - But he had suffer’d, and she would be kind: 430 - She spurn’d such baseness, and she found within - A fair acquittal from so foul a sin; - Yet she too err’d, and must of Heaven expect - To be rejected, him should she reject.” - Susan was summon’d--“I’m about to do - A foolish act, in part seduced by you: - Go to the creature--say that I intend, - Foe to his sins, to be his sorrow’s friend; - Take, for his present comforts, food and wine, - And mark his feelings at this act of mine; 440 - Observe if shame be o’er his features spread, - By his own victim to be soothed and fed; - But, this inform him, that it is not love - That prompts my heart, that duties only move. - Say, that no merits in his favour plead, - But miseries only, and his abject need; - Nor bring me grov’ling thanks, nor high-flown praise; - I would his spirits, not his fancy raise. - Give him no hope that I shall ever more - A man so vile to my esteem restore; 450 - But warn him rather, that, in time of rest, - His crimes be all remember’d and confess’d: - I know not all that form the sinner’s debt, - But there is one that he must not forget.” - The mind of Susan prompted her with speed - To act her part in every courteous deed: - All that was kind she was prepared to say, - And keep the lecture for a future day; - When he had all life’s comforts by his side, - Pity might sleep, and good advice be tried. 460 - This done, the mistress felt disposed to look, - As self-approving, on a pious book: - Yet, to her native bias still inclined, - She felt her act too merciful and kind; - But when, long musing on the chilling scene - So lately past--the frost and sleet so keen-- - The man’s whole misery in a single view-- - Yes! she could think some pity was his due. - Thus fix’d, she heard not her attendant glide - With soft slow step--till, standing by her side, 470 - The trembling servant gasp’d for breath, and shed - Relieving tears, then utter’d---“He is dead!” - “Dead!” said the startled lady; “Yes, he fell - Close at the door where he was wont to dwell; - There his sole friend, the ass, was standing by, - Half-dead himself, to see his master die.” - “Expired he then, good Heaven! for want of food?”-- - “No! crusts and water in a corner stood;-- - To have this plenty, and to wait so long, - And to be right too late, is doubly wrong: 480 - Then, every day to see him totter by, - And to forbear--Oh! what a heart had I!”-- - “Blame me not, child; I tremble at the news.”-- - “’Tis my own heart,” said Susan, “I accuse: - To have this money in my purse--to know - What grief was his, and what to grief we owe; - To see him often, always to conceive - How he must pine and languish, groan and grieve; - And every day in ease and peace to dine - And rest in comfort!--what a heart is mine!”-- 490 - - - - -TALE XVIII. - -_THE WAGER._ - - - ’Tis thought your deer doth hold you at a bay. - _Taming [of] the Shrew_, Act V. Scene 2. - - I choose her for myself: - If she and I are pleased, what’s that to you? - ----, Act II. Scene 1. - - Let’s send each one to his wife, - And he whose wife is most obedient - [. . . . . .] - Shall win the wager. - ----, Act V. Scene 2. - - Now by the world it is a lusty wench, - I love her ten times more than e’er I did. - ----, Act II. Scene 1. - - -TALE XVIII. - -_THE WAGER._ - - Counter and Clubb were men in trade, whose pains, - Credit, and prudence, brought them constant gains; - Partners and punctual, every friend agreed - Counter and Clubb were men who must succeed. - When they had fix’d some little time in life, - Each thought of taking to himself a wife; - As men in trade alike, as men in love - They seem’d with no according views to move; - As certain ores in outward view the same, - They show’d their difference when the magnet came. 10 - Counter was vain; with spirit strong and high, - ’Twas not in him like suppliant swain to sigh: - “His wife might o’er his men and maids preside, - And in her province be a judge and guide; - But what he thought, or did, or wish’d to do, - She must not know, or censure if she knew; - At home, abroad, by day, by night, if he - On aught determined, so it was to be. - How is a man,” he ask’d, “for business fit, - Who to a female can his will submit? 20 - Absent awhile, let no inquiring eye - Or plainer speech presume to question why, - But all be silent; and, when seen again, - Let all be cheerful--shall a wife complain? - Friends I invite, and who shall dare t’ object, - Or look on them with coolness or neglect? - No! I must ever of my house be head, - And, thus obey’d, I condescend to wed.” - Clubb heard the speech--“My friend is nice,” said he; - “A wife with less respect will do for me. 30 - How is he certain such a prize to gain? } - What he approves, a lass may learn to feign, } - And so affect t’ obey till she begins to reign; } - Awhile complying, she may vary then, - And be as wives of more unwary men; - Beside, to him who plays such lordly part, - How shall a tender creature yield her heart? - Should he the promised confidence refuse, - She may another more confiding choose; - May show her anger, yet her purpose hide, 40 - And wake his jealousy, and wound his pride. - In one so humbled, who can trace the friend? - I on an equal, not a slave, depend; - If true, my confidence is wisely placed, - And, being false, she only is disgraced.” - Clubb, with these notions, cast his eye around, - And one so easy soon a partner found. - The lady chosen was of good repute; - Meekness she had not, and was seldom mute; - Though quick to anger, still she loved to smile; 50 - And would be calm if men would wait awhile: - She knew her duty, and she loved her way, - More pleased in truth to govern than obey; - She heard her priest with reverence, and her spouse - As one who felt the pressure of her vows. - Useful and civil, all her friends confess’d-- - Give her her way, and she would choose the best; - Though some indeed a sly remark would make-- - Give it her not, and she would choose to take. - All this, when Clubb some cheerful months had spent, 60 - He saw, confess’d, and said he was content. - Counter meantime selected, doubted, weigh’d, - And then brought home a young complying maid-- - A tender creature, full of fears as charms, - A beauteous nursling from its mother’s arms; - A soft, sweet blossom, such as men must love, - But to preserve must keep it in the stove. - She had a mild, subdued, expiring look-- - Raise but the voice, and this fair creature shook; - Leave her alone, she felt a thousand fears-- 70 - Chide, and she melted into floods of tears; - Fondly she pleaded and would gently sigh, - For very pity, or she knew not why; - One whom to govern none could be afraid-- - Hold up the finger, this meek thing obey’d; - Her happy husband had the easiest task-- - Say but his will, no question would she ask; - She sought no reasons, no affairs she knew, - Of business spoke not, and had nought to do. - Oft he exclaim’d, “How meek! how mild! how kind! 80 - With her ’twere cruel but to seem unkind; - Though ever silent when I take my leave, - It pains my heart to think how hers will grieve; - ’Tis heaven on earth with such a wife to dwell, - I am in raptures to have sped so well; - But let me not, my friend, your envy raise, - No! on my life, your patience has my praise.” - His friend, though silent, felt the scorn implied-- - “What need of patience?” to himself he cried: - “Better a woman o’er her house to rule, 90 - Than a poor child just hurried from her school: - Who has no care, yet never lives at ease; - Unfit to rule, and indisposed to please; - What if he govern, there his boast should end, - No husband’s power can make a slave his friend.” - It was the custom of these friends to meet - With a few neighbours in a neighbouring street; - Where Counter oft-times would occasion seize, - To move his silent friend by words like these: - “A man,” said he, “if govern’d by his wife, 100 - Gives up his rank and dignity in life; - Now better fate befalls my friend and me.”-- - He spoke, and look’d th’ approving smile to see. - The quiet partner, when he chose to speak, - Desired his friend, “another theme to seek; - When thus they met, he judged that state-affairs - And such important subjects should be theirs.” - But still the partner, in his lighter vein, - Would cause in Clubb affliction or disdain; - It made him anxious to detect the cause 110 - Of all that boasting--“Wants my friend applause? - This plainly proves him not at perfect ease, - For, felt he pleasure, he would wish to please.-- - These triumphs here for some regrets atone-- - Men who are blest let other men alone.” - Thus made suspicious, he observed and saw - His friend each night at early hour withdraw; - He sometimes mention’d Juliet’s tender nerves, - And what attention such a wife deserves. - “In this,” thought Clubb, “full sure some mystery lies--} - He laughs at me, yet he with much complies, } 121 - And all his vaunts of bliss are proud apologies.” } - With such ideas treasured in his breast, - He grew composed, and let his anger rest; - Till Counter once (when wine so long went round - That friendship and discretion both were drown’d) - Began in teasing and triumphant mood - His evening banter--“Of all earthly good, - The best,” he said, “was an obedient spouse, - Such as my friend’s--that every one allows: 130 - What if she wishes his designs to know? - It is because she would her praise bestow; - What if she wills that he remains at home? - She knows that mischief may from travel come. - I, who am free to venture where I please, - Have no such kind preventing checks as these; - But mine is double duty, first to guide - Myself aright, then rule a house beside; - While this our friend, more happy than the free, - Resigns all power, and laughs at liberty.” 140 - “By Heaven,” said Clubb, “excuse me if I swear, - I’ll bet a hundred guineas, if he dare, - That uncontroll’d I will such freedoms take, - That he will fear to equal--there’s my stake.” - “A match!” said Counter, much by wine inflamed; - “But we are friends--let smaller stake be named: - Wine for our future meeting, that will I - Take and no more--what peril shall we try?” - “Let’s to Newmarket,” Clubb replied; “or choose - Yourself the place, and what you like to lose; 150 - And he who first returns, or fears to go, - Forfeits his cash.”--Said Counter, “Be it so.” - The friends around them saw with much delight - The social war, and hail’d the pleasant night; - Nor would they further hear the cause discuss’d, - Afraid the recreant heart of Clubb to trust. - Now sober thoughts return’d as each withdrew, - And of the subject took a serious view. - “’Twas wrong,” thought Counter, “and will grieve my love;” - “’Twas wrong,” thought Clubb, “my wife will not approve; - But friends were present; I must try the thing, 161 - Or with my folly half the town will ring.” - He sought his lady--“Madam, I’m to blame, - But was reproach’d, and could not bear the shame; - Here in my folly--for ’tis best to say - The very truth--I’ve sworn to have my way: - To that Newmarket--(though I hate the place, - And have no taste or talents for a race, - Yet so it is--well, now prepare to chide--) - I laid a wager that I dared to ride; 170 - And I must go: by Heaven, if you resist - I shall be scorn’d, and ridiculed, and hiss’d; - Let me with grace before my friends appear, - You know the truth, and must not be severe; - He too must go, but that he will of course; - Do you consent?--I never think of force.” - “You never need,” the worthy dame replied; - “The husband’s honour is the woman’s pride; - If I in trifles be the wilful wife, - Still for your credit I would lose my life; 180 - Go! and when fix’d the day of your return, - Stay longer yet, and let the blockheads learn, - That, though a wife may sometimes wish to rule, - She would not make th’ indulgent man a fool; - I would at times advise--but idle they - Who think th’ assenting husband _must_ obey.” - The happy man, who thought his lady right - In other cases, was assured to-night; - Then for the day with proud delight prepared, - To show his doubting friends how much he dared. 190 - Counter--who grieving sought his bed, his rest - Broken by pictures of his love distress’d-- - With soft and winning speech the fair prepared: - “She all his councils, comforts, pleasures shared; - She was assured he loved her from his soul; - She never knew and need not fear control; - But so it happen’d--he was grieved at heart, - It happen’d so, that they awhile must part-- - A little time--the distance was but short, - And business call’d him--he despised the sport; 200 - But to Newmarket he engaged to ride, - With his friend Clubb;” and there he stopp’d and sigh’d. - Awhile the tender creature look’d dismay’d, - Then floods of tears the call of grief obey’d:-- - “She an objection! No!” she sobb’d, “not one; - Her work was finish’d, and her race was run; - For die she must, indeed she would not live - A week alone, for all the world could give; - He too must die in that same wicked place; - It always happen’d--was a common case; 210 - Among those horrid horses, jockeys, crowds, - ’Twas certain death--they might bespeak their shrouds; - He would attempt a race, be sure to fall-- - And she expire with terror--that was all; - With love like hers she was indeed unfit - To bear such horrors, but she must submit.”-- - “But for three days, my love! three days at most--” - “Enough for me; I then shall be a ghost.--” - “My honour’s pledged!”--“Oh! yes, my dearest life, - I know your honour must outweigh your wife; 220 - But ere this absence, have you sought a friend-- - I shall be dead--on whom can you depend?-- - Let me one favour of your kindness crave: - Grant me the stone I mention’d for my grave.--” - “Nay, love, attend--why, bless my soul--I say - I will return--there--weep no longer--nay!”-- - “Well! I obey, and to the last am true, - But spirits fail me; I must die; adieu!” - “What, madam! must?--’tis wrong--I’m angry--zounds! - Can I remain and lose a thousand pounds?” 230 - “Go then, my love! it is a monstrous sum, - Worth twenty wives--go, love! and I am dumb-- - Nor be displeased--[had] I the power to live, - You might be angry, now you must forgive; - Alas! I faint--ah! cruel--there’s no need - Of wounds or fevers--this had done the deed.” - The lady fainted, and the husband sent - For every aid, for every comfort went; - Strong terror seized him; “Oh! she loved so well, - And who th’ effect of tenderness could tell?” 240 - She now recover’d, and again began - With accent querulous--“Ah! cruel man--” - Till the sad husband, conscience-struck, confess’d, - ’Twas very wicked with his friend to jest; - For now he saw that those who were obey’d, - Could like the most subservient feel afraid; - And, though a wife might not dispute the will - Of her liege lord, she could prevent it still. - The morning came, and Clubb prepared to ride - With a smart boy, his servant and his guide; 250 - When, ere he mounted on the ready steed, - Arrived a letter, and he stopp’d to read. - “My friend,” he read--“our journey I decline: - A heart too tender for such strife is mine; - Yours is the triumph, be you so inclined; - But you are too considerate and kind, - In tender pity to my Juliet’s fears - I thus relent, o’ercome by love and tears; - She knows your kindness; I have heard her say, - A man like you ’tis pleasure to obey. 260 - Each faithful wife, like ours, must disapprove - Such dangerous trifling with connubial love; - What has the idle world, my friend, to do - With our affairs? they envy me and you. - What if I could my gentle spouse command-- - Is that a cause I should her tears withstand? - And what if you, a friend of peace, submit - To one you love--is that a theme for wit? - ’Twas wrong; and I shall henceforth judge it weak - Both of submission and control to speak. 270 - Be it agreed that all contention cease, - And no such follies vex our future peace; - Let each keep guard against domestic strife, - And find nor slave nor tyrant in his wife.” - “Agreed,” said Clubb, “with all my soul agreed”-- - And to the boy, delighted, gave his steed; - “I think my friend has well his mind express’d, - And I assent; such things are not a jest.” - “True,” said the wife, “no longer he can hide - The truth that pains him by his wounded pride. 280 - Your friend has found it not an easy thing, - Beneath his yoke this yielding soul to bring; - These weeping willows, though they seem inclined } - By every breeze, yet not the strongest wind } - Can from their bent divert this weak but stubborn kind; } - Drooping they seek your pity to excite, - But ’tis at once their nature and delight. - Such women feel not; while they sigh and weep, - ’Tis but their habit--their affections sleep; - They are like ice that in the hand we hold, 290 - So very melting, yet so very cold; - On such affection let not man rely: - The husbands suffer, and the ladies sigh. - But your friend’s offer let us kindly take, - And spare his pride for his vexation’s sake; - For he has found, and through his life will find, } - ’Tis easiest dealing with the firmest mind-- } - More just when it resists, and, when it yields, more kind.” } - - - - -TALE XIX. - -_THE CONVERT._ - - - A tapster is a good trade, an old cloak makes - a new jerkin; a wither’d serving-man a fresh tapster. - _Merry Wives of Windsor_, Act I. Scene 3. - - A fellow, sir, that I have known go about with [troll-my-dames]. - _Winter’s Tale_, Act IV. Scene 3. - -I myself, sometimes leaving the fear of Heaven on the left hand, and -[hiding] mine honour in my necessity, am forced to shuffle, to hedge, -and to lurch. - _Merry Wives of Windsor_, Act II. Scene 3. - - Yea, and at that very moment, - Consideration like an angel came, - And whipp’d th’ offending Adam out of him. - _Henry V._ Act I. Scene 1. - - I have lived long enough: my May of life - Is fall’n into the sear, the yellow leaf; - And that which should accompany old age, - As honour, love, obedience, troops of friends, - I must not look to have. - _Macbeth_, Act V. Scene 3. - - -TALE XIX. - -_THE CONVERT._ - - Some to our hero have a hero’s name - Denied, because no father’s he could claim; - Nor could his mother with precision state - A full fair claim to her certificate; - On her own word the marriage must depend-- - A point she was not eager to defend. - But who, without a father’s name, can raise - His own so high, deserves the greater praise: - The less advantage to the strife he brought, - The greater wonders has his prowess wrought; 10 - He who depends upon his wind and limbs, - Needs neither cork or bladder when he swims; - Nor will by empty breath be puff’d along, - As not himself--but in his helpers--strong. - Suffice it then, our hero’s name was clear, - For, call John Dighton, and he answer’d, “Here!” - But who that name in early life assign’d - He never found, he never tried to find; - Whether his kindred were to John disgrace, - Or John to them, is a disputed case; 20 - His infant-state owed nothing to their care-- - His mind neglected, and his body bare; - All his success must on himself depend, - He had no money, counsel, guide, or friend; - But, in a market-town, an active boy - Appear’d, and sought in various ways employ; - Who soon, thus cast upon the world, began - To show the talents of a thriving man. - With spirit high John learn’d the world to brave, - And in both senses was a ready knave; 30 - Knave [as of] old, obedient, keen, and quick, - Knave as at present, skill’d to shift and trick. - Some humble part of many trades he caught: - He for the builder and the painter wrought; - For serving-maids on secret errands ran, - The waiter’s helper, and the hostler’s man; - And, when he chanced (oft chanced he) place to lose, - His varying genius shone in blacking shoes. - A midnight fisher by the pond he stood; - Assistant poacher, he o’erlook’d the wood; 40 - At an election John’s impartial mind - Was to no cause nor candidate confined; - To all in turn he full allegiance swore, - And in his hat the various badges bore; - His liberal soul with every sect agreed; - Unheard their reasons, he received their creed. - At church he deign’d the organ-pipes to fill, - And at the meeting sang both loud and shrill; - But the full purse these different merits gain’d, - By strong demands his lively passions drain’d; 50 - Liquors he loved of each inflaming kind, - To midnight revels flew with ardent mind; - Too warm at cards, a losing game he play’d; - To fleecing beauty his attention paid; - His boiling passions were by oaths express’d, - And lies he made his profit and his jest. - Such was the boy, and such the man had been, - But fate or happier fortune changed the scene; - A fever seized him; “he should surely die--” - He fear’d, and lo! a friend was praying by. 60 - With terror moved, this teacher he address’d, - And all the errors of his youth confess’d: - The good man kindly clear’d the sinner’s way - To lively hope, and counsell’d him to pray: - Who then resolved, should he from sickness rise, - To quit cards, liquors, poaching, oaths, and lies. - His health restored, he yet resolved, and grew - True to his masters, to their meeting true; - His old companions at his sober face } - Laugh’d loud, while he, attesting it was grace, } 70 - With tears besought them all his calling to embrace. } - To his new friends such convert gave applause, - Life to their zeal, and glory to their cause; - Though terror wrought the mighty change, yet strong - Was the impression, and it lasted long; - John at the lectures due attendance paid, - A convert meek, obedient, and afraid. - His manners strict, though form’d on fear alone, } - Pleased the grave friends, nor less his solemn tone, } - The lengthen’d face of care, the low and inward groan. } 80 - The stern good men exulted, when they saw - Those timid looks of penitence and awe; - Nor thought that one so passive, humble, meek, - Had yet a creed and principles to seek. - The faith that reason finds, confirms, avows, - The hopes, the views, the comforts she allows-- - These were not his, who by his feelings found, - And by them only, that his faith was sound: - Feelings of terror these, for evil past, - Feelings of hope, to be received at last; 90 - Now weak, now lively, changing with the day, - These were his feelings, and he felt his way. - Sprung from such sources, will this faith remain - While these supporters can their strength retain? - As heaviest weights the deepest rivers pass, - While icy chains fast bind the solid mass: - So, born of feelings, faith remains secure, - Long as their firmness and their strength endure; - But, when the waters in their channel glide, - A bridge must bear us o’er the threat’ning tide; 100 - Such bridge is reason, and there faith relies, - Whether the varying spirits fall or rise. - His patrons, still disposed their aid to lend, - Behind a counter placed their humble friend; - Where pens and paper were on shelves display’d, - And pious pamphlets on the windows laid. - By nature active, and from vice restrain’d, - Increasing trade his bolder views sustain’d; - His friends and teachers, finding so much zeal - In that young convert whom they taught to feel, 110 - His trade encouraged, and were pleased to find - A hand so ready, with such humble mind. - And now, his health restored, his spirits eased, - He wish’d to marry, if the teachers pleased. - They, not unwilling, from the virgin-class - Took him a comely and a courteous lass; - Simple and civil, loving and beloved, - She long a fond and faithful partner proved; - In every year the elders and the priest - Were duly summon’d to a christening feast; 120 - Nor came a babe, but by his growing trade, - John had provision for the coming made; - For friends and strangers all were pleased to deal - With one whose care was equal to his zeal. - In human friendships, it compels a sigh, - To think what trifles will dissolve the tie. - John, now become a master of his trade, - Perceived how much improvement might be made; - And, as this prospect open’d to his view, - A certain portion of his zeal withdrew; 130 - His fear abated--“What had he to fear-- - His profits certain, and his conscience clear?” - Above his door a board was placed by John, - And “Dighton, stationer,” was gilt thereon; - His window next, enlarged to twice the size, - Shone with such trinkets as the simple prize; - While in the shop with pious works were seen - The last new play, review, or magazine. - In orders punctual, he observed--“The books - He never read, and could he judge their looks? 140 - Readers and critics should their merits try, - He had no office but to sell and buy; - Like other traders, profit was his care; - Of what they print, the authors must beware.” - He held his patrons and his teachers dear, - But with his trade--they must not interfere. - ’Twas certain now that John had lost the dread - And pious thoughts that once such terrors bred; - His habits varied, and he more inclined - To the vain world, which he had half resign’d: 150 - He had moreover in his brethren seen, - Or he imagined, craft, conceit, and spleen; - “They are but men,” said John, “and shall I then - Fear man’s control, or stand in awe of men? - ’Tis their advice (their convert’s rule and law), - And good it is--I will not stand in awe.” - Moreover Dighton, though he thought of books - As one who chiefly on the title looks, - Yet sometimes ponder’d o’er a page to find, - When vex’d with cares, amusement for his mind; 160 - And by degrees that mind had treasured much - From works his teachers were afraid to touch. - Satiric novels, poets bold and free, - And what their writers term philosophy, - All these were read; and he began to feel - Some self-approval on his bosom steal. - Wisdom creates humility, but he - Who thus collects it, will not humble be. - No longer John was fill’d with pure delight - And humble reverence in a pastor’s sight, 170 - Who, like a grateful zealot, listening stood, - To hear a man so friendly and so good; - But felt the dignity of one who made - Himself important by a thriving trade; - And growing pride in Dighton’s mind was bred - By the strange food on which it coarsely fed. - Their brother’s fall the grieving brethren heard, - The pride indeed to all around appear’d; - The world, his friends agreed, had won the soul - From its best hopes, the man from their control. 180 - To make him humble, and confine his views - Within their bounds, and books which they peruse, - A deputation from these friends select, - Might reason with him to some good effect; - Arm’d with authority, and led by love, - They might those follies from his mind remove; - Deciding thus, and with this kind intent, - A chosen body with its speaker went. - “John,” said the teacher, “John, with great concern - We see thy frailty, and thy fate discern-- 190 - Satan with toils thy simple soul beset, - And thou art careless, slumbering in the net; - Unmindful art thou of thy early vow; - Who at the morning-meeting sees thee now? - Who at the evening? where is brother John? - We ask--are answer’d, ‘To the tavern gone.’ - Thee on the sabbath seldom we behold; - Thou canst not sing, thou’rt nursing for a cold: - This from the churchmen thou hast learn’d, for they - Have colds and fevers on the sabbath-day; 200 - When in some snug warm room they sit, and pen - Bills from their ledgers, world-entangled men! - “See with what pride thou hast enlarged thy shop; - To view thy tempting stores the heedless stop; - By what strange names dost thou these baubles know, - Which wantons wear, to make a sinful show? - Hast thou in view these idle volumes placed - To be the pander of a vicious taste? - What’s here? a book of dances!--you advance - In goodly knowledge--John, wilt learn to dance? 210 - How! ‘Go--’ it says, and ‘to the devil go! - And shake thyself!’ I tremble--but ’tis so---- - Wretch as thou art, what answer canst thou make? - Oh! without question, thou wilt go and shake. - What’s here? ‘The School for Scandal’--pretty schools! - Well, and art thou proficient in the rules? - Art thou a pupil, is it thy design - To make our names contemptible as thine? - ‘Old Nick, a Novel!’ oh! ’tis mighty well-- - A fool has courage when he laughs at hell; 220 - ‘Frolic and Fun,’ ‘The humours of Tim Grin’; - Why, John, thou grow’st facetious in thy sin; - And what? ‘The Archdeacon’s Charge’--‘tis mighty well-- - If Satan publish’d, thou wouldst doubtless sell; - Jests, novels, dances, and this precious stuff-- - To crown thy folly we have seen enough; - We find thee fitted for each evil work--- - Do print the Koran, and become a Turk! - “John, thou art lost; success and worldly pride } - O’er all thy thoughts and purposes preside, } 230 - Have bound thee fast, and drawn thee far aside; } - Yet turn, these sin-traps from thy shop expel, - Repent and pray, and all may yet be well. - “And here thy wife, thy Dorothy, behold, - How fashion’s wanton robes her form infold! - Can grace, can goodness with such trappings dwell? - John, thou hast made thy wife a Jezebel. - See! on her bosom rests the sign of sin, - The glaring proof of naughty thoughts within; - What? ’tis a cross; come hither--as a friend, 240 - Thus from thy neck the shameful badge I rend.” - “Rend, if you dare,” said Dighton; “you shall find - A man of spirit, though to peace inclined; - Call me ungrateful! have I not my pay - At all times ready for the expected day?-- - To share my plenteous board you deign to come, - Myself your pupil, and my house your home; - And shall the persons who my meat enjoy - Talk of my faults, and treat me as a boy? - Have you not told how Rome’s insulting priests 250 - Led their meek laymen like a herd of beasts; - And by their fleecing and their forgery made - Their holy calling an accursed trade? - Can you such acts and insolence condemn, - Who to your utmost power resemble them? - “Concerns it you what books I set for sale? - The tale perchance may be a virtuous tale; - And, for the rest, ’tis neither wise nor just - In you, who read not, to condemn on trust; - Why should th’ Archdeacon’s Charge your spleen excite? - He, or perchance th’ archbishop, may be right. 261 - “That from your meetings I refrain, is true; - I meet with nothing pleasant--nothing new, - But the same proofs, that not one text explain, - And the same lights, where all things dark remain; - I thought you saints on earth--but I have found - Some sins among you, and the best unsound; - You have your failings, like the crowds below, - And at your pleasure hot and cold can blow. - When I at first your grave deportment saw, 270 - (I own my folly,) I was fill’d with awe; - You spoke so warmly, and it [seemed] so well, - I should have thought it treason to rebel. - Is it a wonder that a man like me - Should such perfection in such teachers see; - Nay, should conceive you sent from Heav’n to brave - The host of sin, and sinful souls to save? - But, as our reason wakes, our prospects clear, - And failings, flaws, and blemishes appear. - “When you were mounted in your rostrum high, 280 - We shrank beneath your tone, your frown, your eye; - Then you beheld us abject, fallen, low, - And felt your glory from our baseness grow; - Touch’d by your words, I trembled like the rest, - And my own vileness and your power confess’d: - These, I exclaim’d, are men divine, and gazed - On him who taught, delighted and amazed; - Glad, when he finish’d, if by chance he cast - One look on such a sinner, as he pass’d. - “But, when I view’d you in a clearer light, 290 - And saw the frail and carnal appetite; - When, at his humble pray’r, you deign’d to eat, - Saints as you are, a civil sinner’s meat; - When, as you sat contented and at ease, - Nibbling at leisure on the ducks and peas, - And, pleased some comforts in such place to find, - You could descend to be a little kind; - And gave us hope, in Heaven there might be room - For a few souls beside your own to come; - While this world’s good engaged your carnal view, 300 - And like a sinner you enjoy’d it too: - All this perceiving, can you think it strange - That change in you should work an equal change?” - “Wretch that thou art,” an elder cried, “and gone - For everlasting”----“Go thyself,” said John; - “Depart this instant, let me hear no more; - My house my castle is, and that my door.” - The hint they took, and from the door withdrew, - And John to meeting bade a long adieu; - Attach’d to business; he in time became 310 - A wealthy man of no inferior name. - It seem’d, alas! in John’s deluded sight, - That all was wrong because not all was right; - And, when he found his teachers had their stains, - Resentment and not reason broke his chains. - Thus on his feelings he again relied, - And never look’d to reason for his guide. - Could he have wisely view’d the frailty shown, - And rightly weigh’d their wanderings and his own, - He might have known that men may be sincere, 320 - Though gay and feasting on the savoury cheer; - That doctrines sound and sober they may teach, - Who love to eat with all the glee they preach; - Nay, who believe the duck, the grape, the pine, - Were not intended for the dog and swine. - But Dighton’s hasty mind on every theme - Ran from the truth, and rested in th’ extreme; - Flaws in his friends he found, and then withdrew - (Vain of his knowledge) from their virtues too; - Best of his books he loved the liberal kind, 330 - That, if they improve not, still enlarge the mind; - And found himself, with such advisers, free - From a fix’d creed, as mind enlarged could be. - His humble wife at these opinions sigh’d, - But her he never heeded till she died; - He then assented to a last request, - And by the meeting-window let her rest; - And on her stone the sacred text was seen, - Which had her comfort in departing been. - Dighton with joy beheld his trade advance, 340 - Yet seldom published, loth to trust to chance; - Then wed a doctor’s sister--poor indeed, - But skill’d in works her husband could not read; - Who, if he wish’d new ways of wealth to seek, - Could make her half-crown pamphlet in a week: - This he rejected, though without disdain, - And chose the old and certain way to gain. - Thus he proceeded; trade increased the while, - And fortune woo’d him with perpetual smile. - On early scenes he sometimes cast a thought, 350 - When on his heart the mighty change was wrought; - And all the ease and comfort converts find - Was magnified in his reflecting mind; - Then on the teacher’s priestly pride he dwelt, - That caused his freedom, but with this he felt - The danger of the free--for since that day, - No guide had shown, no brethren join’d his way; - Forsaking one, he found no second creed, - But reading doubted, doubting what to read. - Still, though reproof had brought some present pain, 360 - The gain he made was fair and honest gain; - He laid his wares indeed in public view, - But that all traders claim a right to do. - By means like these, he saw his wealth increase, - And felt his consequence, and dwelt in peace. - Our hero’s age was threescore years and five, - When he exclaim’d, “Why longer should I strive? - Why more amass, who never must behold - A young John Dighton to make glad the old?” - (The sons he had to early graves were gone, 370 - And girls were burdens to the mind of John.) - “Had I [a] boy, he would our name sustain, - That now to nothing must return again; - But what are all my profits, credit, trade, - And parish-honours?--folly and parade.” - Thus Dighton thought, and in his looks appear’d - Sadness, increased by much he saw and heard. - The brethren often at the shop would stay, - And make their comments ere they walk’d away; - They mark’d the window, fill’d in every pane 380 - With lawless prints of reputations slain; - Distorted forms of men with honours graced, - And our chief rulers in derision placed: - Amazed they stood, remembering well the days, - When to be humble was their brother’s praise; - When at the dwelling of their friend they stopp’d - To drop a word, or to receive it dropp’d; - Where they beheld the prints of men renown’d, - And far-famed preachers pasted all around; - (Such mouths! eyes! hair! so prim! so fierce! so sleek! 390 - They look’d as speaking what is wo to speak): - On these the passing brethren loved to dwell-- - How long they spake! how strongly! warmly! well! - What power had each to dive in mysteries deep, - To warm the cold, to make the harden’d weep; - To lure, to fright, to soothe, to awe the soul, - And list’ning flocks to lead and to control! - But now discoursing, as they linger’d near, - They tempted John (whom they accused) to hear - Their weighty charge--“And can the lost-one feel, 400 - As in the time of duty, love, and zeal: - When all were summon’d at the rising sun, - And he was ready with his friends to run; - When he, partaking with a chosen few, - Felt the great change, sensation rich and new? - No! all is lost, her favours Fortune shower’d - Upon the man, and he is overpower’d; - The world has won him with its tempting store - Of needless wealth, and that has made him poor. - Success undoes him; he has risen to fall, 410 - Has gain’d a fortune, and has lost his all; - Gone back from Sion, he will find his age - Loth to commence a second pilgrimage; - He has retreated from the chosen track; - And now must ever bear the burden on his back.” - Hurt by such censure, John began to find - Fresh revolutions working in his mind; - He sought for comfort in his books, but read - Without a plan or method in his head; - What once amused, now rather made him sad, 420 - What should inform, increased the doubts he had; - Shame would not let him seek at church a guide, - And from his meeting he was held by pride; - His wife derided fears she never felt, - And passing brethren daily censures dealt; - Hope for a son was now for ever past, - He was the first John Dighton, and the last; - His stomach fail’d, his case the doctor knew, - But said, “he still might hold a year or two.” - “No more?” he said, “but why should I complain? 430 - A life of doubt must be a life of pain. - Could I be sure--but why should I despair? - I’m sure my conduct has been just and fair; - In youth indeed I had a wicked will, - But I repented, and have sorrow still; - I had my comforts, and a growing trade - Gave greater pleasure than a fortune made; - And, as I more possess’d and reason’d more, - I lost those comforts I enjoy’d before, - When reverend guides I saw my table round, 440 - And in my guardian guest my safety found. - Now sick and sad, no appetite, no ease, - Nor pleasure have I, nor a wish to please; - Nor views, nor hopes, nor plans, nor taste have I, - Yet sick of life, have no desire to die.” - He said, and died; his trade, his name is gone, - And all that once gave consequence to John. - Unhappy Dighton! had he found a friend, - When conscience told him it was time to mend! - A friend discreet, considerate, kind, sincere, 450 - Who would have shown the grounds of hope and fear; - And proved that spirits, whether high or low, - No certain tokens of man’s safety show; - Had reason ruled him in her proper place, - And virtue led him while he lean’d on grace; - Had he while zealous been discreet and pure, - His knowledge humble, and his hope secure-- - These guides had placed him on the solid rock, - Where faith had rested, nor received a shock; - But his, alas! was placed upon the sand, 460 - Where long it stood not, and where none can stand. - - - - -TALE XX. - -_THE BROTHERS._ - - - A brother noble, - Whose nature is so far from doing harms - That he suspects none; on whose foolish honesty - My [practices] ride easy. - _King Lear_, Act I. Scene 2. - - He lets me feed with [his] hinds; bars me the place of brother. - _As You Like It_, Act I. Scene 1. - - ’Twas I, but ’tis not I: I do not shame - To tell you what I was, [. . . - . . .] being [the thing] I am. - _As You Like It_, Act IV. Scene 3. - - -TALE XX. - -_THE BROTHERS._ - - Than old George Fletcher on the British coast - Dwelt not a seaman who had more to boast: - Kind, simple, and sincere--he seldom spoke, - But sometimes sang and chorus’d “_Hearts of Oak_;” - In dangers steady, with his lot content, - His days in labour and in love were spent. - He left a son so like him, that the old - With joy exclaim’d, “’Tis Fletcher we behold;” - But to his brother when the kinsmen came, - And view’d his form, they grudged the father’s name. 10 - George was a bold, intrepid, careless lad, - With just the failings that his father had; - Isaac was weak, attentive, slow, exact, - With just the virtues that his father lack’d. - George lived at sea: upon the land a guest-- - He sought for recreation, not for rest-- - While, far unlike, his brother’s feebler form - Shrank from the cold, and shudder’d at the storm; - Still with the seaman’s to connect his trade, - The boy was bound where blocks and ropes were made. 20 - George, strong and sturdy, had a tender mind, - And was to Isaac pitiful and kind; - A very father, till his art was gain’d, - And then a friend unwearied he remain’d. - He saw his brother was of spirit low, - His temper peevish, and his motions slow; - Not fit to bustle in a world, or make - Friends to his fortune for his merit’s sake: - But the kind sailor could not boast the art - Of looking deeply in the human heart; 30 - Else had he seen that this weak brother knew - What men to court--what objects to pursue; - That he to distant gain the way discern’d, - And none so crooked but his genius learn’d. - Isaac was poor, and this the brother felt; - He hired a house, and there the landman dwelt; - Wrought at his trade, and had an easy home, - For there would George with cash and comforts come; - And, when they parted, Isaac look’d around, - Where other friends and helpers might be found. 40 - He wish’d for some port-place, and one might fall, - He wisely thought, if he should try for all; - He had a vote--and, were it well applied, - Might have its worth--and he had views beside; - Old Burgess Steel was able to promote - An humble man who served him with a vote; - For Isaac felt not what some tempers feel, - But bow’d and bent the neck to Burgess Steel; - And great attention to a lady gave, - His ancient friend, a maiden spare and grave: 50 - One whom the visage long and look demure - Of Isaac pleased--he seem’d sedate and pure; - And his soft heart conceived a gentle flame - For her who waited on this virtuous dame: - Not an outrageous love, a scorching fire, - But friendly liking and chastised desire; - And thus he waited, patient in delay, - In present favour and in fortune’s way. - George then was coasting--war was yet delay’d, - And what he gain’d was to his brother paid; 60 - Nor ask’d the seaman what he saved or spent: - But took his grog, wrought hard, and was content; - Till war awaked the land, and George began - To think what part became a useful man: - “Press’d, I must go; why, then, ’tis better far - At once to enter like a British tar, - Than a brave captain and the foe to shun, - As if I fear’d the music of a gun.” - “Go not!” said Isaac--“You shall wear disguise.” - “What!” said the seaman, “clothe myself with lies?”-- 70 - “Oh! but there’s danger.”--“Danger in the fleet? - You cannot mean, good brother, of defeat; - And other dangers I at land must share-- - So now adieu! and trust a brother’s care.” - Isaac awhile demurr’d--but, in his heart, - So might he share, he was disposed to part: - The better mind will sometimes feel the pain } - Of benefactions--favour is a chain; } - But they the feeling scorn, and what they wish, disdain;-- } - While beings form’d in coarser mould will hate 80 - The helping hand they ought to venerate. - No wonder George should in this cause prevail, - With one contending who was glad to fail: - “Isaac, farewell! do wipe that doleful eye; } - Crying we came, and groaning we may die. } - Let us do something ’twixt the groan and cry: } - And hear me, brother, whether pay or prize, - One half to thee I give and I devise; - For thou hast oft occasion for the aid - Of learn’d physicians, and they will be paid: 90 - Their wives and children men support, at sea, - And thou, my lad, art wife and child to me: - Farewell!--I go where hope and honour call, - Nor does it follow that who fights must fall.” - Isaac here made a poor attempt to speak, - And a huge tear moved slowly down his cheek; - Like Pluto’s iron drop, hard sign of grace, } - It slowly roll’d upon the rueful face, } - Forced by the striving will alone its way to trace. } - Years fled--war lasted--George at sea remain’d, 100 - While the slow landman still his profits gain’d. - A humble place was vacant--he besought - His patron’s interest, and the office caught; - For still the virgin was his faithful friend, - And one so sober could with truth commend, - Who of his own defects most humbly thought, - And their advice with zeal and reverence sought. - Whom thus the mistress praised, the maid approved, - And her he wedded whom he wisely loved. - No more he needs assistance--but, alas! 110 - He fears the money will for liquor pass; - Or that the seaman might to flatterers lend, - Or give support to some pretended friend. - Still, he must write--he wrote, and he confess’d - That, till absolved, he should be sore distress’d; - But one so friendly would, he thought, forgive - The hasty deed--Heav’n knew how he should live; - “But you,” he added, “as a man of sense, - Have well consider’d danger and expense: - I ran, alas! into the fatal snare, 120 - And now for trouble must my mind prepare; - And how, with children, I shall pick my way, - Through a hard world, is more than I can say: - Then change not, brother, your more happy state, - Or on the hazard long deliberate.” - George answer’d gravely, “It is right and fit, - In all our crosses, humbly to submit: - Your apprehensions are unwise, unjust; - Forbear repining, and expel distrust.”-- - He added, “Marriage was the joy of life,” 130 - And gave his service to his brother’s wife; - Then vow’d to bear in all expense a part, - And thus concluded, “Have a cheerful heart.” - Had the glad Isaac been his brother’s guide, - In these same terms the seaman had replied; - At such reproofs the crafty landman smiled, - And softly said--“This creature is a child.” - Twice had the gallant ship a capture made-- - And when in port the happy crew were paid, - Home went the sailor, with his pocket stored, 140 - Ease to enjoy, and pleasure to afford. - His time was short; joy shone in every face; - Isaac half fainted in the fond embrace; - The wife resolved her honour’d guest to please, - The children clung upon their uncle’s knees; - The grog went round, the neighbours drank his health, - And George exclaim’d--“Ah! what to this is wealth? - Better,” said he, “to bear a loving heart, - Than roll in riches----but we now must part!” - All yet is still--but hark! the winds o’ersweep 150 - The rising waves, and howl upon the deep; - Ships, late becalm’d, on mountain-billows ride-- - So life is threaten’d, and so man is tried. - Ill were the tidings that arrived from sea: - The worthy George must now a cripple be; - His leg was lopp’d; and, though his heart was sound, - Though his brave captain was with glory crown’d-- - Yet much it vex’d him to repose on shore, - An idle log, and be of use no more. - True, he was sure that Isaac would receive 160 - All of his brother that the foe might leave; - To whom the seaman his design had sent, - Ere from the port the wounded hero went; - His wealth and expectations told, he “knew - Wherein they fail’d, what Isaac’s love would do; - That he the grog and cabin would supply, - Where George at anchor during life would lie.” - The landman read--and, reading, grew distress’d:-- - “Could he resolve t’ admit so poor a guest? - Better at Greenwich might the sailor stay, 170 - Unless his purse could for his comforts pay;” - So Isaac judged, and to his wife appeal’d, - But yet acknowledged it was best to yield: - “Perhaps his pension, with what sums remain - Due or unsquander’d, may the man maintain; - Refuse we must not.”--With a heavy sigh - The lady heard, and made her kind reply: - “Nor would I wish it, Isaac, were we sure - How long his crazy building will endure; - Like an old house, that every day appears 180 - About to fall--he may be propp’d for years; - For a few months, indeed, we might comply, - But these old batter’d fellows never die.” - The hand of Isaac George on entering took, - With love and resignation in his look; - Declared his comfort in the fortune past, - And joy to find his anchor safely cast; - “Call then my nephews, let the grog be brought, - And I will tell them how the ship was fought.” - Alas! our simple seaman should have known, } 190 - That all the care, the kindness, he had shown, } - Were from his brother’s heart, if not his memory, } - flown: } - All swept away to be perceived no more, - Like idle structures on the sandy shore; - The chance amusement of the playful boy, - That the rude billows in their rage destroy. - Poor George confess’d, though loth the truth to find, - Slight was his knowledge of a brother’s mind: - The vulgar pipe was to the wife offence, - The frequent grog to Isaac an expense; 200 - “Would friends like hers,” she question’d, “choose to come, - Where clouds of poison’d fume defiled a room? - This could their lady-friend, and Burgess Steel, - (Teased with his worship’s asthma) bear to feel? - Could they associate or converse with him-- - A loud rough sailor with a timber limb?” - Cold as he grew, still Isaac strove to show, - By well-feign’d care, that cold he could not grow; - And when he saw his brother look distress’d, - He strove some petty comforts to suggest; 210 - On his wife solely their neglect to lay, - And then t’ excuse it as a woman’s way; - He too was chidden when her rules he broke, - And then she sicken’d at the scent of smoke. - George, though in doubt, was still consoled to find - His brother wishing to be reckon’d kind. - That Isaac seem’d concern’d by his distress, - Gave to his injured feelings some redress; - But none he found disposed to lend an ear - To stories all were once intent to hear; 220 - Except his nephew, seated on his knee, - He found no creature cared about the sea; - But George indeed--for George they call’d the boy, - When his good uncle was their boast and joy-- - Would listen long, and would contend with sleep, - To hear the woes and wonders of the deep; - Till the fond mother cried--“That man will teach - The foolish boy his loud and boisterous speech.” - So judged the father--and the boy was taught - To shun the uncle, whom his love had sought. 230 - The mask of kindness now but seldom worn, - George felt each evil harder to be borne; - And cried (vexation growing day by day), - “Ah! brother Isaac!--What! I’m in the way!”-- - “No! on my credit, look ye, No! but I } - Am fond of peace, and my repose would buy } - On any terms--in short, we must comply: } - My spouse had money--she must have her will-- - Ah! brother--marriage is a bitter pill.”-- - George tried the lady--“Sister, I offend”-- 240 - “Me?” she replied; “Oh no!--you may depend - On my regard--but watch your brother’s way, - Whom I, like you, must study and obey.” - “Ah!” thought the seaman, “what a head was mine, - That easy birth at Greenwich to resign! - I’ll to the parish”--but a little pride, - And some affection, put the thought aside. - Now gross neglect and open scorn he bore - In silent sorrow--but he felt the more; - The odious pipe he to the kitchen took, 250 - Or strove to profit by some pious book. - When the mind stoops to this degraded state, - New griefs will darken the dependent’s fate; - “Brother!” said Isaac, “you will sure excuse - The little freedom I’m compell’d to use: - My wife’s relations--(curse the haughty crew)-- - Affect such niceness, and such dread of you: - You speak so loud--and they have natures soft-- - Brother----I wish----do go upon the loft!” - Poor George obey’d, and to the garret fled, 260 - Where not a being saw the tears he shed. - But more was yet required, for guests were come, - Who could not dine if he disgraced the room. - It shock’d his spirit to be esteem’d unfit - With an own brother and his wife to sit; - He grew rebellious--at the vestry spoke - For weekly aid----they heard it as a joke: - So kind a brother, and so wealthy----you - Apply to us?----No! this will never do: - Good neighbour Fletcher,” said the overseer, 270 - “We are engaged--you can have nothing here!” - George mutter’d something in despairing tone, - Then sought his loft, to think and grieve alone; - Neglected, slighted, restless on his bed, - With heart half broken, and with scraps ill fed; - Yet was he pleased that hours for play design’d - Were given to ease his ever-troubled mind; - The child still listen’d with increasing joy, - And he was soothed by the attentive boy. - At length he sicken’d, and this duteous child 280 - Watch’d o’er his sickness, and his pains beguiled; - The mother bade him from the loft refrain, - But, though with caution, yet he went again; - And now his tales the sailor feebly told, - His heart was heavy, and his limbs were cold: - The tender boy came often to entreat - His good kind friend would of his presents eat, - Purloin’d or purchased; for he saw, with shame, - The food untouch’d that to his uncle came: - Who, sick in body and in mind, received 290 - The boy’s indulgence, gratified and grieved. - “Uncle will die!” said George--the piteous wife - Exclaim’d, “she saw no value in his life; - But sick or well, to my commands attend, - And go no more to your complaining friend.” - The boy was vex’d, he felt his heart reprove - The stern decree.--What! punish’d for his love! - No! he would go, but softly, to the room - Stealing in silence--for he knew his doom. - Once in a week the father came to say, 300 - “George, are you ill?”--and hurried him away; - Yet to his wife would on their duties dwell, - And often cry, “Do use my brother well;” - And something kind, no question, Isaac meant, - Who took vast credit for the vague intent. - But, truly kind, the gentle boy essay’d - To cheer his uncle, firm, although afraid; - But now the father caught him at the door, - And, swearing--yes, the man in office swore, - And cried, “Away! How! Brother, I’m surprised, 310 - That one so old can be so ill advised. - Let him not dare to visit you again, - Your cursed stories will disturb his brain; - Is it not vile to court a foolish boy, - Your own absurd narrations to enjoy? - What! sullen!--ha! George Fletcher? you shall see, - Proud as you are, your bread depends on me!” - He spoke, and, frowning, to his dinner went, - Then cool’d and felt some qualms of discontent; - And thought on times when he compell’d his son 320 - To hear these stories, nay, to beg for one; - But the wife’s wrath o’ercame the brother’s pain, - And shame was felt, and conscience rose in vain. - George yet stole up--he saw his uncle lie - Sick on the bed, and heard his heavy sigh: - So he resolved, before he went to rest, - To comfort one so dear and so distress’d; - Then watch’d his time, but, with a child-like art, - Betray’d a something treasured at his heart. - Th’ observant wife remark’d, “the boy is grown 330 - So like your brother, that he seems his own; - So close and sullen! and I still suspect - They often meet--do watch them and detect.” - George now remark’d that all was still as night, - And hasten’d up with terror and delight; - “Uncle!” he cried, and softly tapp’d the door; - “Do let me in”--but he could add no more; - The careful father caught him in the fact, - And cried, “You serpent! is it thus you act? - Back to your mother!” and, with hasty blow, 340 - He sent th’ indignant boy to grieve below; - Then at the door an angry speech began: - “Is this your conduct--is it thus you plan? - Seduce my child, and make my house a scene - Of vile dispute--What is it that you mean?-- - George, are you dumb? do learn to know your friends, - And think awhile on whom your bread depends.-- - What! not a word? be thankful I am cool; - But, sir, beware, nor longer play the fool.-- - Come! brother, come! what is that you seek 350 - By this rebellion?--Speak, you villain, speak!-- - Weeping! I warrant, sorrow makes you dumb; - I’ll ope your mouth, impostor! if I come. - Let me approach--I’ll shake you from the bed, - You stubborn dog----Oh God! my brother’s dead!----” - Timid was Isaac, and in all the past - He felt a purpose to be kind at last; - Nor did he mean his brother to depart, - Till he had shown this kindness of his heart: - But day by day he put the cause aside, 360 - Induced by av’rice, peevishness, or pride. - But, now awaken’d, from this fatal time - His conscience Isaac felt, and found his crime: - He raised to George a monumental stone, - And there retired to sigh and think alone; - An ague seized him, he grew pale, and shook-- - “So,” said his son, “would my poor uncle look.”-- - “And so, my child, shall I like him expire.”-- - “No! you have physic and a cheerful fire.”-- - “Unhappy sinner! yes, I’m well supplied 370 - With every comfort my cold heart denied.” - He view’d his brother now, but not as one - Who vex’d his wife by fondness for her son; - Not as with wooden limb, and seaman’s tale, - The odious pipe, vile grog, or humbler ale: - He now the worth and grief alone can view - Of one so mild, so generous, and so true: - The frank, kind brother, with such open heart, - And I to break it--’twas a dæmon’s part!” - So Isaac now, as led by conscience, feels, 380 - Nor his unkindness palliates or conceals. - “This is your folly,” said his heartless wife; - “Alas! my folly cost my brother’s life: - It suffer’d him to languish and decay, } - My gentle brother, whom I could not pay, } - And therefore left to pine, and fret his life away.” } - He takes his son, and bids the boy unfold - All the good uncle of his feelings told, - All he lamented--and the ready tear - Falls as he listens, soothed and grieved to hear. 390 - “Did he not curse me, child?”--“He never cursed, - But could not breathe, and said his heart would burst”-- - “And so will mine.”--“Then, father, you must pray; - My uncle said it took his pains away.” - Repeating thus his sorrows, Isaac shows } - That he, repenting, feels the debt he owes, } - And from this source alone his every comfort flows. } - He takes no joy in office, honours, gain; - They make him humble, nay, they give him pain; - “These from my heart,” he cries, “all feeling drove; 400 - They made me cold to nature, dead to love.” - He takes no joy in home, but, sighing, sees - A son in sorrow, and a wife at ease; - He takes no joy in office--see him now, - And Burgess Steel has but a passing bow; - Of one sad train of gloomy thoughts possess’d, } - He takes no joy in friends, in food, in rest-- } - Dark are the evil days, and void of peace the best. } - And thus he lives, if living be to sigh, } - And from all comforts of the world to fly, } 410 - Without a hope in life--without a wish to die. } - - - - -TALE XXI. - -_THE LEARNED BOY._ - - - Like one well studied in a sad ostent, - To please his grandam. - _Merchant of Venice_, Act II. Scene 2. - - And then the whining school-boy, with his satchel - And shining morning face, creeping like snail - Unwillingly to school. - _As You Like It_, Act II. Scene 7. - -He is a better scholar than I thought he was.--He [is] a good sprag -memory. - _Merry Wives of Windsor_, Act IV. Scene 1. - - One that feeds - On objects, arts, and imitations, - Which, out of use, and stal’d by other men, - Begin his fashion. - _Julius Cæsar,_ Act IV. Scene 1. - - Oh! torture me no more--I will confess. - 2 _Henry VI._ Act III. Scene 3. - - -TALE XXI. - -_THE LEARNED BOY._ - - An honest man was Farmer Jones, and true; - He did by all as all by him should do; - Grave, cautious, careful, fond of gain was he, - Yet famed for rustic hospitality. - Left with his children in a widow’d state, - The quiet man submitted to his fate; - Though prudent matrons waited for his call, - With cool forbearance he avoided all; - Though each profess’d a pure maternal joy, - By kind attention to his feeble boy. 10 - And--though a friendly widow knew no rest, - Whilst neighbour Jones was lonely and distress’d, - Nay, though the maidens spoke in tender tone - Their hearts’ concern to see him left alone-- - Jones still persisted in that cheerless life, - As if t’were sin to take a second wife. - Oh! ’tis a precious thing, when wives are dead, - To find such numbers who will serve instead; - And, in whatever state a man be thrown, - ’Tis that precisely they would wish their own. 20 - Left the departed infants--then their joy - Is to sustain each lovely girl and boy; - Whatever calling his, whatever trade, - To that their chief attention has been paid; - His happy taste in all things they approve, - His friends they honour, and his food they love; - His wish for order, prudence in affairs, - And equal temper, (thank their stars!) are theirs; - In fact, it seem’d to be a thing decreed, - And fix’d as fate, that marriage must succeed. 30 - Yet some, like Jones, with stubborn hearts and hard, - Can hear such claims, and show them no regard. - Soon as our farmer, like a general, found - By what strong foes he was encompass’d round-- - Engage he dared not, and he could not fly, - But saw his hope in gentle parley lie; - With looks of kindness then, and trembling heart, - He met the foe, and art opposed to art. - Now spoke that foe insidious--gentle tones, - And gentle looks, assumed for Farmer Jones: 40 - “Three girls,” the widow cried, “a lively three - To govern well--indeed it cannot be.” - “Yes,” he replied, “it calls for pains and care; - But I must bear it.”--“Sir, you cannot bear; - Your son is weak, and asks a mother’s eye.”-- - “That, my kind friend, a father’s may supply.”-- - “Such growing griefs your very soul will tease.”-- - “To grieve another would not give me ease; - I have a mother.”--“She, poor ancient soul! - Can she the spirits of the young control? 50 - Can she thy peace promote, partake thy care, - Procure thy comforts, and thy sorrows share? - Age is itself impatient, uncontroll’d.”-- - “But wives like mothers must at length be old.”-- - “Thou hast shrewd servants--they are evils sore.”-- - “Yet a shrewd mistress might afflict me more.”-- - “Wilt thou not be a weary wailing man?”-- - “Alas! and I must bear it as I can.” - Resisted thus, the widow soon withdrew, - That in his pride the hero might pursue; 60 - And off his wonted guard, in some retreat, - Find from a foe prepared entire defeat. - But he was prudent, for he knew in flight - These Parthian warriors turn again and fight; - He but at freedom, not at glory aim’d, - And only safety by his caution claim’d. - Thus, when a great and powerful state decrees - Upon a small one, in its love, to seize-- - It vows in kindness to protect, defend, - And be the fond ally, the faithful friend; 70 - It therefore wills that humbler state to place - Its hopes of safety in a fond embrace: - Then must that humbler state its wisdom prove, - By kind rejection of such pressing love; - Must dread such dangerous friendship to commence, - And stand collected in its own defence.-- - Our farmer thus the proffer’d kindness fled, - And shunn’d the love that into bondage led. - The widow failing, fresh besiegers came, - To share the fate of this retiring dame; 80 - And each foresaw a thousand ills attend - The man that fled from so discreet a friend; - And pray’d, kind soul! that no event might make - The harden’d heart of Farmer Jones to ache. - But he still govern’d with resistless hand, - And where he could not guide he would command. - With steady view in course direct he steer’d, - And his fair daughters loved him, though they fear’d; - Each had her school, and, as his wealth was known, - Each had in time a household of her own. 90 - The boy indeed was, at the grandam’s side, - Humour’d and train’d, her trouble and her pride: - Companions dear, with speech and spirits mild, - The childish widow and the vapourish child. - This nature prompts; minds uninform’d and weak - In such alliance ease and comfort seek; - Push’d by the levity of youth aside, } - The cares of man, his humour, or his pride, } - They feel, in their defenceless state, allied. } - The child is pleased to meet regard from age, 100 - The old are pleased ev’n children to engage; - And all their wisdom, scorn’d by proud mankind, - They love to pour into the ductile mind, - By its own weakness into error led, - And by fond age with prejudices fed. - The father, thankful for the good he had, - Yet saw with pain a whining, timid lad; - Whom he, instructing, led through cultured fields, - To show what man performs, what nature yields; - But Stephen, listless, wander’d from the view; } 110 - From beasts he fled, for butterflies he flew, } - And idly gazed about, in search of something new. } - The lambs indeed he loved, and wish’d to play - With things so mild, so harmless, and so gay; - Best pleased the weakest of the flock to see, - With whom he felt a sickly sympathy. - Meantime, the dame was anxious, day and night, } - To guide the notions of her babe aright, } - And on the favourite mind to throw her glimmering light; } - Her Bible-stories she impress’d betimes, 120 - And fill’d his head with hymns and holy rhymes; - On powers unseen, the good and ill, she dwelt, - And the poor boy mysterious terrors felt; - From frightful dreams, he, waking, sobb’d in dread, - Till the good lady came to guard his bed. - The father wish’d such errors to correct, - But let them pass in duty and respect. - But more it grieved his worthy mind to see - That Stephen never would a farmer be; - In vain he tried the shiftless lad to guide, 130 - And yet ’twas time that something should be tried. - He at the village-school perchance might gain - All that such mind could gather and retain; - Yet the good dame affirm’d her favourite child - Was apt and studious, though sedate and mild; - “That he on many a learned point could speak, - And that his body, not his mind, was weak.” - The father doubted--but to school was sent - The timid Stephen, weeping as he went: - There the rude lads compell’d the child to fight, 140 - And sent him bleeding to his home at night; - At this the grandam more indulgent grew, - And bade her darling “shun the beastly crew; - Whom Satan ruled, and who were sure to lie - Howling in torments, when they came to die.” - This was such comfort, that in high disdain - He told their fate, and felt their blows again. - Yet, if the boy had not a hero’s heart, - Within the school he play’d a better part: - He wrote a clean, fine hand, and at his slate 150 - With more success than many a hero sate; - He thought not much indeed--but what depends - On pains and care was at his fingers’ ends. - This had his father’s praise, who now espied - A spark of merit, with a blaze of pride; - And, though a farmer he would never make, - He might a pen with some advantage take; - And as a clerk that instrument employ, - So well adapted to a timid boy. - A London cousin soon a place obtain’d, 160 - Easy but humble--little could be gain’d. - The time arrived when youth and age must part, - Tears in each eye, and sorrow in each heart; - The careful father bade his son attend - To all his duties, and obey his friend; - To keep his church and there behave aright, } - As one existing in his Maker’s sight, } - Till acts to habits led, and duty to delight: } - “Then try, my boy, as quickly as you can, - T’ assume the looks and spirit of a man; 170 - I say, be honest, faithful, civil, true, - And this you may, and yet have courage too. - Heroic men, their country’s boast and pride, - Have fear’d their God, and nothing fear’d beside; - While others daring, yet imbecile, fly - The power of man, and that of God defy. - Be manly then, though mild, for, sure as fate, - Thou art, my Stephen, too effeminate; - Here, take my purse, and make a worthy use - (’Tis fairly stock’d) of what it will produce; 180 - And now my blessing, not as any charm - Or conjuration; but ’twill do no harm.” - Stephen, whose thoughts were wandering up and down, - Now charm’d with promised sights in London-town, - Now loth to leave his grandam--lost the force, - The drift and tenor of this grave discourse; - But, in a general way, he understood - ’Twas good advice, and meant, “My son, be good;” - And Stephen knew that all such precepts mean, - That lads should read their Bible, and be clean. 190 - The good old lady, though in some distress, - Begg’d her dear Stephen would his grief suppress: - “Nay, dry those eyes, my child--and, first of all, - Hold fast thy faith, whatever may befall; - Hear the best preacher, and preserve the text - For meditation, till you hear the next; - Within your Bible night and morning look-- - There is your duty, read no other book; - Be not in crowds, in broils, in riots seen, - And keep your conscience and your linen clean. 200 - Be you a Joseph, and the time may be, - When kings and rulers will be ruled by thee.” - “Nay,” said the father----“Hush, my son,” replied - The dame----“The Scriptures must not be denied.” - The lad, still weeping, heard the wheels approach, - And took his place within the evening coach, - With heart quite rent asunder: On one side - Was love, and grief, and fear, for scenes untried; - Wild beasts and wax-work fill’d the happier part - Of Stephen’s varying and divided heart; 210 - This he betray’d by sighs and questions strange, - Of famous shows, the Tower, and the Exchange. - Soon at his desk was placed the curious boy, - Demure and silent at his new employ; - Yet, as he could, he much attention paid - To all around him, cautious and afraid. - On older clerks his eager eyes were fix’d, - But Stephen never in their council mix’d; - Much their contempt he fear’d, for, if like them, - He felt assured he should himself contemn: 220 - “Oh! they were all so eloquent, so free, - No! he was nothing--nothing could he be. - They dress so smartly, and so boldly look, - And talk as if they read it from a book; - But I,” said Stephen, “will forbear to speak, - And they will think me prudent, and not weak. - They talk, the instant they have dropp’d the pen, - Of singing-women and of acting-men; - Of plays and places where at night they walk - Beneath the lamps, and with the ladies talk; 230 - While other ladies for their pleasure sing, - Oh! ’tis a glorious and a happy thing. - They would despise me, did they understand - I dare not look upon a scene so grand; - Or see the plays when critics rise and roar, - And hiss and groan, and cry--‘Encore! encore!’-- - There’s one among them looks a little kind; - If more encouraged, I would ope my mind.” - Alas! poor Stephen, happier had he kept - His purpose secret, while his envy slept; 240 - Virtue, perhaps, had conquer’d, or his shame - At least preserved him simple as he came. - A year elapsed before this clerk began - To treat the rustic something like a man; - He then in trifling points the youth advised, - Talk’d of his coat, and had it modernized; - Or with the lad a Sunday-walk would take, - And kindly strive his passions to awake; - Meanwhile explaining all they heard and saw, - Till Stephen stood in wonderment and awe. 250 - To a neat garden near the town they stray’d, - Where the lad felt delighted and afraid; - There all he saw was smart, and fine, and fair-- - He could but marvel how he ventured there: - Soon he observed, with terror and alarm, - His friend enlock’d within a lady’s arm, - And freely talking--“But it is,” said he, - “A near relation, and that makes him free;” - And much amazed was Stephen, when he knew - This was the first and only interview; 260 - Nay, had that lovely arm by him been seized, - The lovely owner had been highly pleased: - “Alas!” he sigh’d, “I never can contrive, - At such bold, blessed freedoms to arrive; - Never shall I such happy courage boast; - I dare as soon encounter with a ghost.” - Now to a play the friendly couple went, - But the boy murmur’d at the money spent; - “He loved,” he said, “to buy, but not to spend-- - They only talk awhile, and there’s an end.” 270 - “Come, you shall purchase books,” the friend replied; - “You are bewilder’d, and you want a guide; - To me refer the choice, and you shall find - The light break in upon your stagnant mind!” - The cooler clerks exclaim’d, “In vain your art - T’ improve a cub without a head or heart; - Rustics, though coarse, and savages, though wild, - Our cares may render liberal and mild; - But what, my friend, can flow from all these pains? - There is no dealing with a lack of brains.”-- 280 - “True I am hopeless to behold him man; - But let me make the booby what I can: - Though the rude stone no polish will display, - Yet you may strip the rugged coat away.” - Stephen beheld his books--“I love to know - How money goes--now here is that to show; - And now,” he cried, “I shall be pleased to get - Beyond the Bible--there I puzzle yet.” - He spoke abash’d--“Nay, nay!” the friend replied, - “You need not lay the good old book aside; 290 - Antique and curious, I myself indeed - Read it at times, but as a man should read; - A fine old work it is, and I protest - I hate to hear it treated as a jest; - The book has wisdom in it, if you look - Wisely upon it, as another book; - For superstition (as our priests of sin - Are pleased to tell us) makes us blind within.-- - Of this hereafter--we will now select - Some works to please you, others to direct; 300 - Tales and romances shall your fancy feed, - And reasoners form your morals and your creed.” - The books were view’d, the price was fairly paid, - And Stephen read, undaunted, undismay’d-- - But not till first he paper’d all the row, - And placed in order, to enjoy the show; - Next letter’d all the backs with care and speed, - Set them in ranks, and then began to read. - The love of order,--I the thing receive - From reverend men, and I in part believe-- 310 - Shows a clear mind and clean, and whoso needs - This love but seldom in the world succeeds; - And yet with this some other love must be, - Ere I can fully to the fact agree. - Valour and study may by order gain, - By order sovereigns hold more steady reign; - Through all the tribes of nature order runs, - And rules around in systems and in suns; - Still has the love of order found a place } - With all that’s low, degrading, mean, and base, } 320 - With all that merits scorn, and all that meets } - disgrace: } - In the cold miser, of all change afraid; - In pompous men, in public seats obey’d; - In humble placemen, heralds, solemn drones, - Fanciers of flowers, and lads like Stephen Jones; - Order to these is armour and defence, - And love of method serves in lack of sense. - For rustic youth could I a list produce - Of Stephen’s books, how great might be the use; - But evil fate was theirs--survey’d, enjoy’d 330 - Some happy months, and then by force destroy’d. - So will’d the fates--but these, with patience read, - Had vast effect on Stephen’s heart and head. - This soon appear’d--within a single week - He oped his lips, and made attempt to speak; - He fail’d indeed--but still his friend confess’d - The best have fail’d, and he had done his best. - The first of swimmers, when at first he swims, - Has little use or freedom in his limbs; - Nay, when at length he strikes with manly force, 340 - The cramp may seize him, and impede his course. - Encouraged thus, our clerk again essay’d - The daring act, though daunted and afraid; - Succeeding now, though partial his success, - And pertness mark’d his manner and address, - Yet such improvement issued from his books, - That all discern’d it in his speech and looks. - He ventured then on every theme to speak, - And felt no feverish tingling in his cheek; - His friend, approving, hail’d the happy change; 350 - The clerks exclaim’d--“’Tis famous, and ’tis strange.”-- - Two years had pass’d; the youth attended still, - (Though thus accomplish’d) with a ready quill; - He sat th’ allotted hours, though hard the case, - While timid prudence ruled in virtue’s place; - By promise bound, the son his letters penn’d - To his good parent, at the quarter’s end. - At first, he sent those lines, the state to tell - Of his own health, and hoped his friends were well; - He kept their virtuous precepts in his mind, 360 - And needed nothing--then his name was sign’d; - But now he wrote of Sunday walks and views, - Of actors’ names, choice novels, and strange news; - How coats were cut, and of his urgent need - For fresh supply, which he desired with speed. - The father doubted, when these letters came, - To what they tended, yet was loth to blame: - “Stephen was once _my duteous son_, and now - _My most obedient_--this can I allow? - Can I with pleasure or with patience see 370 - A boy at once so heartless, and so free?” - But soon the kinsman heavy tidings told, - That love and prudence could no more withhold: - “Stephen, though steady at his desk, was grown - A rake and coxcomb--this he grieved to own; - His cousin left his church, and spent the day - Lounging about in quite a heathen way; - Sometimes he swore, but had indeed the grace - To show the shame imprinted on his face. - I search’d his room, and in his absence read 380 - Books that I knew would turn a stronger head: - The works of atheists half the number made, - The rest were lives of harlots leaving trade; - Which neither man nor boy would deign to read, - If from the scandal and pollution freed. - I sometimes threaten’d, and would fairly state - My sense of things so vile and profligate; - But I’m a cit, such works are lost on me-- - They’re knowledge, and (good Lord!) philosophy.” - “Oh, send him down,” the father soon replied; 390 - “Let me behold him, and my skill be tried: - If care and kindness lose their wonted use, - Some rougher medicine will the end produce.” - Stephen with grief and anger heard his doom-- - “Go to the farmer? to the rustic’s home? - Curse the base threat’ning--” “Nay, child, never curse; - Corrupted long, your case is growing worse.”-- - “I!” quoth the youth, “I challenge all mankind - To find a fault; what fault have you to find? - Improve I not in manner, speech, and grace? 400 - Inquire--my friends will tell it to your face; - Have I been taught to guard his kine and sheep? - A man like me has other things to keep; - This let him know.”--“It would his wrath excite; - But come, prepare, you must away to-night.”-- - “What! leave my studies, my improvements leave, - My faithful friends and intimates to grieve!”-- - “Go to your father, Stephen, let him see - All these improvements; they are lost on me.” - The youth, though loth, obey’d, and soon he saw 410 - The farmer-father, with some signs of awe: - Who kind, yet silent, waited to behold - How one would act, so daring, yet so cold; - And soon he found, between the friendly pair - That secrets pass’d which he was not to share; - But he resolved those secrets to obtain, - And quash rebellion in his lawful reign. - Stephen, though vain, was with his father mute; - He fear’d a crisis, and he shunn’d dispute; - And yet he long’d with youthful pride to show 420 - He knew such things as farmers could not know; - These to the grandam he with freedom spoke, - Saw her amazement, and enjoy’d the joke. - But, on the father when he cast his eye, - Something he found that made his valour shy; - And thus there seem’d to be a hollow truce, - Still threat’ning something dismal to produce. - Ere this the father at his leisure read - The son’s choice volumes, and his wonder fled; - He saw how wrought the works of either kind 430 - On so presuming, yet so weak, a mind; - These in a chosen hour he made his prey, - Condemn’d, and bore with vengeful thoughts away; - Then in a close recess the couple near, - He sat unseen to see, unheard to hear. - There soon a trial for his patience came; - Beneath were placed the youth and ancient dame, - Each on a purpose fix’d--but neither thought - How near a foe, with power and vengeance fraught. - And now the matron told, as tidings sad, 440 - What she had heard of her beloved lad; - How he to graceless, wicked men gave heed, - And wicked books would night and morning read; - Some former lectures she again began, - And begg’d attention of her little man; - She brought, with many a pious boast, in view - His former studies, and condemn’d the new: - Once he the names of saints and patriarchs old, - Judges and kings, and chiefs and prophets, told; - Then he in winter-nights the Bible took, 450 - To count how often in the sacred book - The sacred name appear’d, and could rehearse - Which were the middle chapter, word, and verse, - The very letter in the middle placed, - And so employ’d the hours that others waste. - “Such wert thou once; and now, my child, they say - Thy faith like water runneth fast away; - The prince of devils hath, I fear, beguiled - The ready wit of my backsliding child.” - On this, with lofty looks, our clerk began 460 - His grave rebuke, as he assumed the man-- - “There is no devil,” said the hopeful youth, - “Nor prince of devils; that I know for truth. - Have I not told you how my books describe - The arts of priests and all the canting tribe? - Your Bible mentions Egypt, where, it seems, - Was Joseph found when Pharaoh dream’d his dreams. - Now, in that place, in some bewilder’d head, - (The learned write) religious dreams were bred; - Whence through the earth, with various forms combined, - They came to frighten and afflict mankind, 471 - Prone (so I read) to let a priest invade } - Their souls with awe, and by his craft be made } - Slave to his will, and profit to his trade. } - So say my books, and how the rogues agreed - To blind the victims, to defraud and lead; - When joys above to ready dupes were sold, - And hell was threaten’d to the shy and cold. - “Why so amazed, and so prepared to pray? - As if a Being heard a word we say! 480 - This may surprise you; I myself began - To feel disturb’d, and to my Bible ran; - I now am wiser--yet agree in this, - The book has things that are not much amiss; - It is a fine old work, and I protest - I hate to hear it treated as a jest: - The book has wisdom in it, if you look - Wisely upon it as another book.”-- - “Oh! wicked! wicked! my unhappy child, - How hast thou been by evil men beguiled!”-- 490 - “How! wicked, say you? you can little guess - The gain of that which you call wickedness: - Why, sins you think it sinful but to name - Have gain’d both wives and widows wealth and fame; - And this, because such people never dread - Those threaten’d pains; hell comes not in their head. - Love is our nature, wealth we all desire, - And what we wish ’tis lawful to acquire; - So say my books--and what beside they show - ’Tis time to let this honest farmer know. 500 - Nay, look not grave; am I commanded down - To feed his cattle and become his clown? - Is such his purpose? then he shall be told - The vulgar insult----” - ----“Hold, in mercy hold--” - “Father, oh! father! throw the whip away; - I was but jesting, on my knees I pray-- - There, hold his arm--oh! leave us not alone; - In pity cease, and I will yet atone - For all my sin--” In vain: stroke after stroke - On side and shoulder quick as mill-wheels broke; 510 - Quick as the patient’s pulse, who trembling cried, - And still the parent with a stroke replied; - Till all the medicine he prepared was dealt, - And every bone the precious influence felt; - Till all the panting flesh was red and raw, - And every thought was turn’d to fear and awe; - Till every doubt to due respect gave place-- - Such cures are done when doctors know the case. - “Oh! I shall die--my father! do receive - My dying words; indeed, I do believe; 520 - The books are lying books, I know it well, - There is a devil, oh! there is a hell; - And I’m a sinner: spare me, I am young, - My sinful words were only on my tongue; - My heart consented not; ’tis all a lie: - Oh! spare me then, I’m not prepared to die.” - “Vain, worthless, stupid wretch!” the father cried, - “Dost thou presume to teach? art thou a guide? - Driveller and dog, it gave the mind distress - To hear thy thoughts in their religious dress; 530 - Thy pious folly moved my strong disdain, - Yet I forgave thee for thy want of brain. - But Job in patience must the man exceed - Who could endure thee in thy present creed; - Is it for thee, thou idiot, to pretend - The wicked cause a helping hand to lend? - Canst thou a judge in any question be? - Atheists themselves would scorn a friend like thee.-- - “Lo! yonder blaze thy worthies; in one heap - Thy scoundrel-favourites must for ever sleep: 540 - Each yields its poison to the flame in turn, - Where whores and infidels are doom’d to burn; - Two noble faggots made the flame you see, - Reserving only two fair twigs for thee; - That in thy view the instruments may stand, - And be in future ready for my hand: - The just mementos that, though silent, show - Whence thy correction and improvements flow; - Beholding these, thou wilt confess their power, - And feel the shame of this important hour. 550 - “Hadst thou been humble, I had first design’d - By care from folly to have freed thy mind; - And, when a clean foundation had been laid, - Our priest, more able, would have lent his aid. - But thou art weak, and force must folly guide, - And thou art vain, and pain must humble pride. - Teachers men honour, learners they allure; } - But learners teaching of contempt are sure; } - Scorn is their certain meed, and smart their only cure!” } - - - - -TALES OF THE HALL. - - -TO HER GRACE THE DUCHESS OF RUTLAND - -MADAM, - -It is the privilege of those who are placed in that elevated -situation to which your Grace is an ornament, that they give honour -to the person upon whom they confer a favour. When I dedicate to your -Grace the fruits of many years, and speak of my debt to the House of -Rutland, I feel that I am not without pride in the confession nor -insensible to the honour which such gratitude implies. Forty years -have elapsed since this debt commenced. On my entrance into the -cares of life, and while contending with its difficulties, a Duke -and Duchess of Rutland observed and protected me--in my progress a -Duke and Duchess of Rutland favoured and assisted me--and, when I -am retiring from the world, a Duke and Duchess of Rutland receive -my thanks, and accept my offering. All, even in this world of -mutability, is not change: I have experienced unvaried favour--I have -felt undiminished respect. - -With the most grateful remembrance of what I owe, and the most -sincere conviction of the little I can return, I present these pages -to your Grace’s acceptance, and beg leave to subscribe myself, - - May it please your Grace, - With respect and gratitude, - Your Grace’s - Most obedient and devoted Servant, - GEORGE CRABBE. - - _Trowbridge_, - _June_, 1819. - - -PREFACE. - -If I did not fear that it would appear to my readers like arrogancy, -or if it did not seem to myself indecorous to send two volumes of -considerable magnitude from the press without preface or apology, -without one petition for the reader’s attention, or one plea for the -writer’s defects, I would most willingly spare myself an address of -this kind, and more especially for these reasons: first, because a -preface is a part of a book seldom honoured by a reader’s perusal; -secondly, because it is both difficult and distressing to write that -which we think will be disregarded; and thirdly, because I do not -conceive that I am called upon for such introductory matter by any of -the motives which usually influence an author when he composes his -prefatory address. - -When a writer, whether of poetry or prose, first addresses the -public, he has generally something to offer which relates to himself -or to his work, and which he considers as a necessary prelude to the -work itself, to prepare his readers for the entertainment or the -instruction they may expect to receive; for one of these every man -who publishes must suppose he affords--this the act itself implies, -and in proportion to his conviction of this fact must be his feeling -of the difficulty in which he has placed himself: the difficulty -consists in reconciling the implied presumption of the undertaking, -whether to please or to instruct mankind, with the diffidence and -modesty of an untried candidate for fame or favour. Hence originate -the many reasons an author assigns for his appearance in that -character, whether they actually exist, or are merely offered to hide -the motives which cannot be openly avowed: namely, the want or the -vanity of the man, as his wishes for profit or reputation may most -prevail with him. - -Now, reasons of this kind, whatever they may be, cannot be availing -beyond their first appearance. An author, it is true, may again feel -his former apprehensions, may again be elevated or depressed by -the suggestions of vanity and diffidence, and may be again subject -to the cold and hot fit of aguish expectation; but he is no more a -stranger to the press, nor has the motives or privileges of one who -is. With respect to myself, it is certain they belong not to me. Many -years have elapsed since I became a candidate for indulgence as an -inexperienced writer; and to assume the language of such writer now, -and to plead for his indulgences, would be proof of my ignorance -of the place assigned to me, and the degree of favour which I have -experienced; but of that place I am not uninformed, and with that -degree of favour I have no reason to be dissatisfied. - -It was the remark of the pious, but on some occasions the querulous, -author of the _Night Thoughts_, that he had “been so long remembered, -he was forgotten”--an expression in which there is more appearance -of discontent than of submission: if he had patience, it was not the -patience that _smiles at grief_. It is not therefore entirely in the -sense of the good Doctor that I apply these words to myself, or to my -more early publications. So many years indeed have passed since their -first appearance, that I have no reason to complain, on that account, -if they be now slumbering with other poems of decent reputation in -their day--not dead indeed, nor entirely forgotten, but certainly not -the subjects of discussion or conversation as when first introduced -to the notice of the public by those whom the public will not forget, -whose protection was credit to their author, and whose approbation -was fame to them. Still these early publications had so long preceded -any other, that, if not altogether unknown, I was, when I came again -before the public, in a situation which excused, and perhaps rendered -necessary, some explanation; but this also has passed away, and none -of my readers will now take the trouble of making any inquiries -respecting my motives for writing or for publishing these Tales or -verses of any description. Known to each other as readers and authors -are known, they will require no preface to bespeak their good will; -nor shall I be under the necessity of soliciting the kindness which -experience has taught me, endeavouring to merit, I shall not fail to -receive. - -There is one motive--and it is a powerful one--which sometimes -induces an author, and more particularly a poet, to ask the attention -of his readers to his prefatory address. This is when he has some -favourite and peculiar style or manner which he would explain and -defend, and chiefly if he should have adopted a mode of versification -of which an uninitiated reader was not likely to perceive either -the merit or the beauty. In such case it is natural, and surely -pardonable, to assert and to prove, as far as reason will bear -us on, that such method of writing has both; to show in what the -beauty consists, and what peculiar difficulty there is, which, when -conquered, creates the merit. How far any particular poet has or has -not succeeded in such attempt is not my business nor my purpose to -inquire: I have no peculiar notion to defend, no poetical heterodoxy -to support, nor theory of any kind to vindicate or oppose--that which -I have used is probably the most common measure in our language; and -therefore, whatever be its advantages or defects, they are too well -known to require from me a description of the one, or an apology for -the other. - -Perhaps still more frequent than any explanation of the work is an -account of the author himself, the situation in which he is placed, -or some circumstances of peculiar kind in his life, education, or -employment. How often has youth been pleaded for deficiencies or -redundancies, for the existence of which youth may be an excuse, -and yet be none for their exposure. Age too has been pleaded for -the errors and failings in a work which the octogenarian had -the discernment to perceive, and yet had not the fortitude to -suppress. Many other circumstances are made apologies for a writer’s -infirmities: his much employment, and many avocations, adversity, -necessity, and the good of mankind. These, or any of them, however -availing in themselves, avail not me. I am neither so young nor so -old, so much engaged by one pursuit, or by many--I am not so urged -by want, or so stimulated by a desire of public benefit--that I can -borrow one apology from the many which I have named. How far they -prevail with our readers, or with our judges, I cannot tell; and it -is unnecessary for me to inquire into the validity of arguments which -I have not to produce. - -If there be any combination of circumstances which may be supposed -to affect the mind of a reader, and in some degree to influence his -judgment, the junction of youth, beauty, and merit in a female writer -may be allowed to do this; and yet one of the most forbidding of -titles is “Poems by a very young Lady”--and this, although beauty -and merit were largely insinuated. Ladies, it is true, have of late -little need of any indulgence as authors, and names may readily be -found which rather excite the envy of man than plead for his lenity. -Our estimation of title also in a writer has materially varied from -that of our predecessors; “Poems by a Nobleman” would create a very -different sensation in our minds from that which was formerly excited -when they were so announced. A noble author had then no pretensions -to a seat so secure on the “sacred hill,” that authors not noble, -and critics not gentle, dared not attack; and they delighted to take -revenge, by their contempt and derision of the poet, for the pain -which their submission and respect to the man had cost them. But -in our times we find that a nobleman writes, not merely as well, -but better than other men: insomuch that readers in general begin -to fancy that the Muses have relinquished their old partiality for -rags and a garret, and are become altogether aristocratical in -their choice. A conceit so well supported by fact would be readily -admitted, did it not appear at the same time, that there were in -the higher ranks of society men who could write as tamely, or as -absurdly, as they had ever been accused of doing. We may, therefore, -regard the works of any noble author as extraordinary productions, -but must not found any theory upon them; and, notwithstanding their -appearance, must look on genius and talent as we are wont to do on -time and chance, that happen indifferently to all mankind. - -But, whatever influence any peculiar situation of a writer might -have, it cannot be a benefit to me, who have no such peculiarity. -I must rely upon the willingness of my readers to be pleased -with that which was designed to give them pleasure, and upon the -cordiality which naturally springs from a remembrance of our having -before parted without any feelings of disgust on the one side, or of -mortification on the other. - -With this hope I would conclude the present subject; but I am called -upon by duty to acknowledge my obligations, and more especially -for two of the following Tales--the Story of Lady Barbara, in Book -XVI; and that of Ellen in Book XVIII. The first of these I owe to -the kindness of a fair friend, who will, I hope, accept the thanks -which I very gratefully pay, and pardon me if I have not given to -her relation the advantages which she had so much reason to expect. -The other story, that of Ellen, could I give it in the language of -him who related it to me, would please and affect my readers. It is -by no means my only debt, though the one I now more particularly -acknowledge; for who shall describe all that he gains in the social, -the unrestrained, and the frequent conversations with a friend, -who is at once communicative and judicious--whose opinions, on all -subjects of literary kind, are founded on good taste, and exquisite -feeling? It is one of the greatest “pleasures of my memory” to -recal in absence those conversations; and, if I do not in direct -terms mention with whom I conversed, it is both because I have no -permission, and my readers will have no doubt. - -The first intention of the poet must be to please; for, if he means -to instruct, he must render the instruction which he hopes to convey -palatable and pleasant. I will not assume the tone of a moralist, -nor promise that my relations shall be beneficial to mankind; but I -have endeavoured, not unsuccessfully I trust, that, in whatsoever I -have related or described, there should be nothing introduced which -has a tendency to excuse the vices of man by associating with them -sentiments that demand our respect, and talents that compel our -admiration. There is nothing in these pages which has the mischievous -effect of confounding truth and error, or confusing our ideas of -right and wrong. I know not which is most injurious to the yielding -minds of the young--to render virtue less respectable by making -its possessors ridiculous, or by describing vice with so many -fascinating qualities, that it is either lost in the assemblage, or -pardoned by the association. Man’s heart is sufficiently prone to -make excuse for man’s infirmity, and needs not the aid of poetry, or -eloquence, to take from vice its native deformity. A character may be -respectable with all its faults, but it must not be made respectable -by them. It is grievous when genius will condescend to place strong -and evil spirits in a commanding view, or excite our pity and -admiration for men of talents, degraded by crime, when struggling -with misfortune. It is but too true that great and wicked men may be -so presented to us as to demand our applause, when they should excite -our abhorrence; but it is surely for the interest of mankind, and -our own self-direction, that we should ever keep at unapproachable -distance our respect and our reproach. - -I have one observation more to offer. It may appear to some that a -minister of religion, in the decline of life, should have no leisure -for such amusements as these; and for them I have no reply. But to -those who are more indulgent to the propensities, the studies, and -the habits of mankind, I offer some apology when I produce these -volumes, not as the occupations of my life, but the fruits of my -leisure--the employment of that time which, if not given to them, had -passed in the vacuity of unrecorded idleness, or had been lost in the -indulgence of unregistered thoughts and fancies, that melt away in -the instant they are conceived, and “_leave not a wreck behind_.” - - - - -TALES OF THE HALL. - - -BOOK I. - -_THE HALL._ - - The Meeting of the Brothers, George and - Richard--The Retirement of the elder to his - native Village--Objects and Persons whom he - found there--The Brother described in various - Particulars--The Invitation and Journey of the - younger--His Soliloquy and Arrival. - -TALES OF THE HALL. - -BOOK I. - -_THE HALL._ - - The Brothers met who many a year had past - Since their last meeting, and that seem’d their last; - They had no parent then or common friend - Who might their hearts to mutual kindness bend; - Who, touching both in their divided state, - Might generous thoughts and warm desires create; - For there are minds whom we must first excite - And urge to feeling, ere they can unite; - As we may hard and stubborn metals beat - And blend together, if we duly heat. 10 - The elder, George, had past his threescore years, - A busy actor, sway’d by hopes and fears - Of powerful kind; and he had fill’d the parts - That try our strength and agitate our hearts. - He married not, and yet he well approved - The social state; but then he rashly loved; - Gave to a strong delusion all his youth, - Led by a vision till alarm’d by truth. - That vision past, and of that truth possest, - His passions wearied and disposed to rest, 20 - George yet had will and power a place to choose, - Where Hope might sleep, and terminate her views. - He chose his native village, and the hill - He climb’d a boy had its attraction still; - With that small brook beneath, where he would stand, - And stooping fill the hollow of his hand, - To quench th’ impatient thirst--then stop awhile - To see the sun upon the waters smile, - In that sweet weariness when, long denied, - We drink and view the fountain that supplied 30 - The sparkling bliss--and feel, if not express, - Our perfect ease in that sweet weariness. - The oaks yet flourish’d in that fertile ground, - Where still the church with lofty tower was found; - And still that Hall, a first, a favourite view, - But not the elms that form’d its avenue; - They fell ere George arrived, or yet had stood, - For he in reverence held the living wood, - That widely spreads in earth the deepening root, - And lifts to heaven the still aspiring shoot; 40 - From age to age they fill’d a growing space, - But hid the mansion they were meant to grace. - It was an ancient, venerable hall, - And once surrounded by a moat and wall; - A part was added by a squire of taste, - Who, while unvalued acres ran to waste, - Made spacious rooms, whence he could look about, - And mark improvements as they rose without: - He fill’d the moat, he took the wall away, - He thinn’d the park, and bade the view be gay. 50 - The scene was rich, but he who should behold - Its worth was poor, and so the whole was sold. - Just then our merchant from his desk retired, - And made the purchase that his heart desired-- - The Hall of Binning, his delight a boy, - That gave his fancy in her flight employ. - Here, from his father’s modest home, he gazed, - Its grandeur charm’d him, and its height amazed, - Work of past ages; and the brick-built place - Where he resided was in much disgrace; 60 - But never in his fancy’s proudest dream - Did he the master of that mansion seem. - Young was he then, and little did he know - What years on care and diligence bestow; - Now, young no more, retired to views well known, - He finds that object of his awe his own: - The Hall at Binning!--how he loves the gloom - That sun-excluding window gives the room; - Those broad brown stairs on which he loves to tread; - Those beams within; without, that length of lead, 70 - On which the names of wanton boys appear, - Who died old men, and left memorials here-- - Carvings of feet and hands, and knots and flowers, - The fruits of busy minds in idle hours. - Here, while our squire the modern part possess’d, } - His partial eye upon the old would rest; } - That best his comforts gave--this sooth’d his feelings best. } - Here, day by day, withdrawn from busy life, - No child t’ awake him, to engage no wife, - When friends were absent, not to books inclined, 80 - He found a sadness steal upon his mind; - Sighing the works of former lords to see, - “I follow them,” he cried, “but who will follow me?” - Some ancient men whom he a boy had known - He knew again; their changes were his own. - Comparing now he view’d them, and he felt - That time with him in lenient mood had dealt; - While some the half-distinguish’d features bore } - That he was doubtful if he saw before, } - And some in memory lived, whom he must see no more. } 90 - Here George had found, yet scarcely hoped to find, - Companions meet, minds fitted to his mind; - Here, late and loth, the worthy rector came, - From college dinners and a fellow’s fame; - Yet, here when fix’d, was happy to behold - So near a neighbour in a friend so old. - Boys on one form they parted, now to meet - In equal state, their worships on one seat. - Here were a sister-pair, who seem’d to live - With more respect than affluence can give; 100 - Although not affluent, they, by nature graced, - Had sense and virtue, dignity and taste; - Their minds by sorrows, by misfortunes tried, - Were vex’d and heal’d, were pain’d and purified. - Hither a sage physician came, and plann’d, - With books his guides, improvements on his land; - Nor less to mind than matter would he give - His noble thoughts, to know how spirits live, - And what is spirit; him his friends advised - To think with fear; but caution he despised; 110 - And hints of fear provoked him till he dared - Beyond himself, nor bold assertion spared, - But fiercely spoke, like those who strongly feel, - “Priests and their craft, enthusiasts and their zeal.” - More yet appear’d, of whom as we proceed-- - Ah! yield not yet to languor--you shall read. - But ere the events that from this meeting rose, - Be they of pain or pleasure, we disclose, - It is of custom, doubtless is of use, - That we our heroes first should introduce. 120 - Come, then, fair Truth! and let me clearly see - The minds I paint, as they are seen in thee; - To me their merits and their faults impart; } - Give me to say, “frail being! such thou art,” } - And closely let me view the naked human heart. } - GEORGE loved to think; but, as he late began - To muse on all the grander thoughts of man, - He took a solemn and a serious view - Of his religion, and he found it true; - Firmly, yet meekly, he his mind applied 130 - To this great subject, and was satisfied. - He then proceeded, not so much intent, - But still in earnest, and to church he went. - Although they found some difference in their creed, - He and his pastor cordially agreed, - Convinced that they who would the truth obtain - By disputation, find their efforts vain; - The church he view’d as liberal minds will view, - And there he fix’d his principles and pew. - He saw--he thought he saw--how weakness, pride, 140 - And habit, draw seceding crowds aside: - Weakness, that loves on trifling points to dwell; - Pride, that at first from Heaven’s own worship fell; - And habit, going where it went before, - Or to the meeting or the tavern door. - George loved the cause of freedom, but reproved - All who with wild and boyish ardour loved: - Those who believed they never could be free, - Except when fighting for their liberty; - Who by their very clamour and complaint 150 - Invite coercion or enforce restraint. - He thought a trust so great, so good a cause, - Was only to be kept by guarding laws; - For, public blessings firmly to secure, - We must a lessening of the good endure. - The public waters are to none denied; - All drink the stream, but only few must guide. - There must be reservoirs to hold supply, - And channels form’d to send the blessing by; - The public good must be a private care; 160 - None all they would may have, but all a share. - So we must freedom with restraint enjoy; - What crowds possess they will, uncheck’d, destroy; - And hence, that freedom may to all be dealt, - Guards must be fix’d, and safety must be felt. - So thought our squire, nor wish’d the guards t’ appear - So strong, that safety might be bought too dear; - The constitution was the ark that he - Join’d to support with zeal and sanctity; - Nor would expose it, as th’ accursed son 170 - His father’s weakness, to be gazed upon. - “I for that freedom make,” said he, “my prayer, - That suits with all, like atmospheric air; - That is to mortal man by heaven assign’d, - Who cannot bear a pure and perfect kind. - The lighter gas, that, taken in the frame, - The spirit heats, and sets the blood in flame: - Such is the freedom which when men approve, - They know not what a dangerous thing they love.” - George chose the company of men of sense, 180 - But could with wit in moderate share dispense; - He wish’d in social ease his friends to meet, - When still he thought the female accent sweet; - Well from the ancient, better from the young, - He loved the lispings of the mother tongue. - He ate and drank, as much as men who think - Of life’s best pleasures, ought to eat or drink; - Men purely temperate might have taken less, - But still he loved indulgence, not excess; - Nor would alone the grants of fortune taste, 190 - But shared the wealth he judged it crime to waste; - And thus obtained the sure reward of care-- - For none can spend like him who learns to spare. - Time, thought, and trouble made the man appear-- - By nature shrewd--sarcastic and severe; - Still, he was one whom those who fully knew - Esteem’d and trusted, one correct and true; - All on his word with surety might depend, - Kind as a man, and faithful as a friend. - But him the many [knew] not, knew not cause 200 - In their new squire for censure or applause; - Ask them, “Who dwelt within that lofty wall?” - And they would say, “the gentleman was tall; - Look’d old when follow’d, but alert when met, - And had some vigour in his movements yet; - He stoops, but not as one infirm; and wears - Dress that becomes his station and his years.” - Such was the man who from the world return’d - Nor friend nor foe; he prized it not, nor spurn’d; - But came and sat him in his village down, 210 - Safe from its smile, and careless of its frown: - He, fairly looking into life’s account, - Saw frowns and favours were of like amount; - And viewing all--his perils, prospects, purse-- - He said, “Content! ’tis well it is no worse.” - Through ways more rough had fortune RICHARD led, - The world he traversed was the book he read; - Hence clashing notions and opinions strange - Lodged in his mind: all liable to change. - By nature generous, open, daring, free, 220 - The vice he hated was hypocrisy. - Religious notions, in her latter years, - His mother gave, admonish’d by her fears; - To these he added, as he chanced to read - A pious work or learn a christian creed. - He heard the preacher by the highway side, - The church’s teacher, and the meeting’s guide; - And, mixing all their matters in his brain, - Distill’d a something he could ill explain; - But still it served him for his daily use, 230 - And kept his lively passions from abuse; - For he believed, and held in reverence high, - The truth so dear to man--“not all shall die.” - The minor portions of his creed hung loose, - For time to shapen and an whole produce; - This love effected, and a favourite maid - With clearer views his honest flame repaid; - Hers was the thought correct, the hope sublime, - She shaped his creed, and did the work of time. - He spake of freedom as a nation’s cause, 240 - And loved, like George, our liberty and laws; - But had more youthful ardour to be free, - And stronger fears for injured liberty. - With him, on various questions that arose, - The monarch’s servants were the people’s foes; - And, though he fought with all a Briton’s zeal, - He felt for France as Freedom’s children feel; - Went far with her in what she thought reform, - And hail’d the revolutionary storm; - Yet would not here, where there was least to win, 250 - And most to lose, the doubtful work begin; - But look’d on change with some religious fear, - And cried, with filial dread, “Ah! come not here.” - His friends he did not as the thoughtful choose; - Long to deliberate was, he judged, to lose; - Frankly he join’d the free, nor suffered pride - Or doubt to part them, whom their fate allied; - Men with such minds at once each other aid; } - “Frankness,” they cry, “with frankness is repaid; } - If honest, why suspect? if poor, of what afraid? } 260 - Wealth’s timid votaries may with caution move; - Be it our wisdom to confide and love.” - So pleasures came, (not purchased first or plann’d) - But the chance pleasures that the poor command; - They came but seldom, they remain’d not long, - Nor gave him time to question “are they wrong?” - These he enjoy’d, and left to after time - To judge the folly or decide the crime; - Sure had he been, he had perhaps been pure - From this reproach--but Richard was not sure-- 270 - Yet from the sordid vice, the mean, the base, - He stood aloof--death frown’d not like disgrace. - With handsome figure, and with manly air, - He pleased the sex, who all to him were fair; - With filial love he look’d on forms decay’d, - And admiration’s debt to beauty paid; - On sea or land, wherever Richard went, - He felt affection, and he found content; - There was in him a strong presiding hope - In fortune’s tempests, and it bore him up. 280 - But when that mystic vine his mansion graced, - When numerous branches round his board were placed, - When sighs of apprehensive love were heard-- - Then first the spirit of the hero fear’d; - Then he reflected on the father’s part, - And all an husband’s sorrow touch’d his heart; - Then thought he, “Who will their assistance lend? - And be the children’s guide, the parent’s friend? - Who shall their guardian, their protector be? - I have a brother--Well!--and so has he.” 290 - And now they met; a message--kind, ’tis true, - But verbal only--ask’d an interview; - And many a mile, perplex’d by doubt and fear, - Had Richard past, unwilling to appear-- - “How shall I now my unknown way explore, - He proud and rich--I very proud and poor? - Perhaps my friend a dubious speech mistook, - And George may meet me with a stranger’s look; - Then to my home when I return again, } - How shall I bear this business to explain, } 300 - And tell of hopes raised high, and feelings hurt, in } - vain? } - “How stands the case? My brother’s friend and mine - Met at an inn, and sat them down to dine: - When, having settled all their own affairs, - And kindly canvass’d such as were not theirs, - Just as my friend was going to retire-- - ‘Stay!--you will see the brother of our squire,’ - Said his companion; ‘be his friend, and tell - The captain that his brother loves him well, - And, when he has no better thing in view, 310 - Will be rejoiced to see him. Now, adieu!’ - Well! here I am; and, brother, take you heed, - I am not come to flatter you and feed; - You shall no soother, fawner, hearer find, - I will not brush your coat, nor smooth your mind; - I will not hear your tales the whole day long, - Nor swear you’re right if I believe you wrong. - Nor be a witness of the facts you state, - Nor as my own adopt your love or hate: - I will not earn my dinner when I dine, 320 - By taking all your sentiments for mine; - Nor watch the guiding motions of your eye, - Before I venture question or reply; - Nor when you speak affect an awe profound, - Sinking my voice, as if I fear’d the sound; - Nor to your looks obediently attend, - The poor, the humble, the dependant friend; - Yet, son of that dear mother could I meet-- - But lo! the mansion--’tis a fine old seat!” - The Brothers met, with both too much at heart 330 - To be observant of each other’s part. - “Brother, I’m glad,” was all that George could say, - Then stretch’d his hand, and turn’d his head away; - For he in tender tears had no delight, - But scorn’d the thought, and ridiculed the sight; - Yet now with pleasure, though with some surprise, - He felt his heart o’erflowing at his eyes. - Richard, mean time, made some attempts to speak, - Strong in his purpose, in his trial weak; - We cannot nature by our wishes rule, 340 - Nor at our will her warm emotions cool;-- - At length affection, like a risen tide, - Stood still, and then seem’d slowly to subside; - Each on the other’s looks had power to dwell, - And Brother Brother greeted passing well. - - - - -TALES OF THE HALL. - -BOOK II. - -_THE BROTHERS._ - - - Further Account of the Meeting--Of the Men--The - Mother--The Uncle--The private Tutor--The second - Husband--Dinner Conversation-- School of the Rector - and Squire--The Master. - -TALES OF THE HALL. - -BOOK II. - -_THE BROTHERS._ - - At length the Brothers met, no longer tried - By those strong feelings that in time subside; - Not fluent yet their language, but the eye - And action spoke both question and reply; - Till the heart rested, and could calmly feel; - Till the shook compass felt the settling steel; - Till playful smiles on graver converse broke, - And either speaker less abruptly spoke. - Still was there oft-times silence, silence blest, - Expressive, thoughtful--their emotions’ rest: 10 - Pauses that came not from a want of thought, - But want of ease, by wearied passion sought; - For souls, when hurried by such powerful force, - Rest, and retrace the pleasure of the course. - They differ’d much; yet might observers trace - Likeness of features both in mind and face; - Pride they possess’d, that neither strove to hide, - But not offensive, not obtrusive pride. - Unlike had been their life, unlike the fruits - Of different tempers, studies, and pursuits; 20 - Nay, in such varying scenes the men had moved, - ’Twas passing strange that aught alike they loved. - But all distinction now was thrown apart, - While these strong feelings ruled in either heart. - As various colours in a painted ball, - While it has rest, are seen distinctly all, - Till, whirl’d around by some exterior force, - They all are blended in the rapid course: - So in repose, and not by passion sway’d, - We saw the difference by their habits made; 30 - But, tried by strong emotions, they became - Fill’d with one love, and were in heart the same; - Joy to the face its own expression sent, - And gave a likeness in the looks it lent. - All now was sober certainty; the joy - That no strong passions swell till they destroy: - For they, like wine, our pleasures raise so high, - That they subdue our strength, and then they die. - George in his brother felt a glowing pride, - He wonder’d who that fertile mind supplied-- 40 - “Where could the wanderer gather on his road - Knowledge so various? how the mind this food? - No college train’d him, guideless through his life, - Without a friend--not so! he has a wife. - Ah! had I married, I might now have seen - My----No! it never, never could have been, - That long enchantment, that pernicious state!-- - True, I recover’d, but alas! too late-- - And here is Richard, poor indeed--but--nay! - This is self-torment--foolish thoughts, away!” 50 - Ease leads to habit, as success to ease, - He lives by rule who lives himself to please; - For change is trouble, and a man of wealth - Consults his quiet as he guards his health; - And habit now on George had sovereign power, - His actions all had their accustom’d hour: - At the fix’d time he slept, he walk’d, he read, - Or sought his grounds, his gruel, and his bed; - For every season he with caution dress’d, - And morn and eve had the appropriate vest; 60 - He talk’d of early mists, and night’s cold air, - And in one spot was fix’d his worship’s chair. - But not a custom yet on Richard’s mind - Had force, or him to certain modes confined; - To him no joy such frequent visits paid - That habit by its beaten track was made; - He was not one who at his ease could say, - “We’ll live to-morrow as we lived to-day;” - But he and his were as the ravens fed, - As the day came it brought the daily bread. 70 - George, born to fortune, though of moderate kind, - Was not in haste his road through life to find. - His father early lost, his mother tried } - To live without him, liked it not, and--sigh’d, } - When, for her widow’d hand, an amorous youth applied. } - She still was young, and felt that she could share - A lover’s passion, and an husband’s care; - Yet past twelve years before her son was told, - To his surprise, “your father you behold.” - But he beheld not with his mother’s eye 80 - The new relation, and would not comply, - But all obedience, all connexion spurn’d, - And fled their home, where he no more return’d. - His father’s brother was a man whose mind - Was to his business and his bank confined; - His guardian care the captious nephew sought, - And was received, caress’d, advised, and taught. - “That Irish beggar, whom your mother took, - Does you this good, he sends you to your book; - Yet love not books beyond their proper worth, 90 - But, when they fit you for the world, go forth: - They are like beauties, and may blessings prove, - When we with caution study them, or love; - But, when to either we our souls devote, - We grow unfitted for that world, and dote.” - George to a school of higher class was sent, - But he was ever grieving that he went: - A still, retiring, musing, dreaming boy, - He relish’d not their sudden bursts of joy; - Nor the tumultuous pleasures of a rude, 100 - A noisy, careless, fearless multitude. - He had his own delights, as one who flies - From every pleasure that a crowd supplies; - Thrice he return’d, but then was weary grown, - And was indulged with studies of his own. - Still could the rector and his friend relate - The small adventures of that distant date; - And Richard listen’d as they spake of time - Past in that world of misery and crime. - Freed from his school, a priest of gentle kind 110 - The uncle found to guide the nephew’s mind; - Pleased with his teacher, George so long remain’d, - The mind was weaken’d by the store it gain’d. - His guardian uncle, then on foreign ground, - No time to think of his improvements found; - Nor had the nephew, now to manhood grown, - Talents or taste for trade or commerce shown, - But shunn’d a world of which he little knew, - Nor of that little did he like the view. - His mother chose, nor I the choice upbraid, 120 - An Irish soldier of an house decay’d, - And passing poor; but, precious in her eyes - As she in his, they both obtain’d a prize. - To do the captain justice, she might share - What of her jointure his affairs could spare; - Irish he was in his profusion--true, - But he was Irish in affection too; - And, though he spent her wealth and made her grieve, - He always said “my dear” and “with your leave.” - Him she survived; she saw his boy possess’d 130 - Of manly spirit, and then sank to rest. - Her sons thus left, some legal cause required - That they should meet, but neither this desired. - George, a recluse, with mind engaged, was one - Who did no business, with whom none was done; - Whose heart, engross’d by its peculiar care, - Shared no one’s counsel--no one his might share. - Richard, a boy, a lively boy, was told - Of his half-brother, haughty, stern, and cold; - And his boy folly, or his manly pride, 140 - Made him on measures cool and harsh decide. - So, when they met, a distant cold salute - Was of a long-expected day the fruit; - The rest by proxies managed, each withdrew, - Vex’d by the business and the brother too; - But now they met when time had calm’d the mind; - Both wish’d for kindness, and it made them kind. - George had no wife or child, and was disposed - To love the man on whom his hope reposed: - Richard had both; and those so well beloved, 150 - Husband and father were to kindness moved; - And thus th’ affections check’d, subdued, restrain’d, - Rose in their force, and in their fulness reign’d. - The bell now bids to dine; the friendly priest, - Social and shrewd, the day’s delight increased. - Brief and abrupt their speeches while they dined, - Nor were their themes of intellectual kind; - Nor, dinner past, did they to these advance, - But left the subjects they discuss’d to chance. - Richard, whose boyhood in the place was spent, 160 - Profound attention to the speakers lent, - Who spake of men; and, as he heard a name, - Actors and actions to his memory came. - Then, too, the scenes he could distinctly trace, - Here he had fought, and there had gain’d a race; - In that church-walk he had affrighted been; - In that old tower he had a something seen-- - What time, dismiss’d from school, he upward cast - A fearful look, and trembled as he past. - No private tutor Richard’s parents sought, 170 - Made keen by hardship, and by trouble taught; - They might have sent him--some the counsel gave-- - Seven gloomy winters of the North to brave: - Where a few pounds would pay for board and bed, - While the poor frozen boy was taught and fed; - When, say he lives, fair, freckled, lank and lean, - The lad returns shrewd, subtle, close and keen; - With all the northern virtues, and the rules - Taught to the thrifty in these thriving schools. - There had he gone, and borne this trying part-- 180 - But Richard’s mother had a mother’s heart. - Now squire and rector were return’d to school, - And spoke of him who there had sovereign rule: - He was, it seem’d, a tyrant of the sort - Who make the cries of tortured boys his sport; - One of a race, if not extinguish’d, tamed-- - The flogger now is of the act ashamed; - But this great mind all mercy’s calls withstood; - This Holofernes was a man of blood. - “Students,” he said, “like horses on the road, 190 - Must well be lash’d before they take the load; - They may be willing for a time to run, - But you must whip them ere the work be done. - To tell a boy, that, if he will improve, - His friends will praise him, and his parents love, - Is doing nothing--he has not a doubt - But they will love him, nay, applaud, without; - Let no fond sire a boy’s ambition trust, - To make him study, let him see he must.” - Such his opinion; and, to prove it true, 200 - At least sincere, it was his practice too. - Pluto they call’d him, and they named him well: - ’Twas not an heaven where he was pleased to dwell. - From him a smile was like the Greenland sun, - Surprising, nay portentous, when it shone; - Or like the lightning, for the sudden flash - Prepared the children for the thunder’s crash. - O! had Narcissa, when she fondly kiss’d - The weeping boy whom she to school dismiss’d, - Had she beheld him shrinking from the arm 210 - Uplifted high to do the greater harm, - Then seen her darling stript, and that pure white, - And--O! her soul had fainted at the sight; - And with those looks that love could not withstand, - She would have cried, “Barbarian, hold thy hand!” - In vain! no grief to this stern soul could speak, - No iron-tear roll down this Pluto’s cheek. - Thus far they went, half earnest, half in jest, - Then turn’d to themes of deeper interest; - While Richard’s mind, that for awhile had stray’d, 220 - Call’d home its powers, and due attention paid. - - - - -TALES OF THE HALL. - -BOOK III. - -_BOYS AT SCHOOL._ - - - The School--School-Boys--The Boy-Tyrant--Sir Hector - Blane-- School-Boys in after Life, how changed--how - the same--The patronized Boy, his Life and - Death--Reflections--Story of Harry Bland. - -TALES OF THE HALL. - -BOOK III. - -_BOYS AT SCHOOL._ - - We name the world a school, for day by day - We something learn, till we are call’d away; - The school we name a world,--for vice and pain, - Fraud and contention, there begin to reign; - And much, in fact, this lesser world can show - Of grief and crime that in the greater grow. - “You saw,” said George, “in that still-hated school - How the meek suffer, how the haughty rule; - There soft, ingenuous, gentle minds endure - Ills that ease, time, and friendship fail to cure; 10 - There the best hearts, and those, who shrink from sin, - Find some seducing imp to draw them in, - Who takes infernal pleasure to impart - The strongest poison to the purest heart. - Call to your mind this scene--Yon boy behold: - How hot the vengeance of a heart so cold! - See how he beats, whom he had just reviled - And made rebellious--that imploring child; - How fierce his eye, how merciless his blows, - And how his anger on his insult grows; 20 - You saw this Hector and his patient slave, - Th’ insulting speech, the cruel blows he gave. - Mix’d with mankind, his interest in his sight, - We found this Nimrod civil and polite; - There was no triumph in his manner seen, - He was so humble you might think him mean. - Those angry passions slept till he attain’d - His purposed wealth, and waked when that was gain’d; - He then resumed the native wrath and pride, - The more indulged, as longer laid aside; 30 - Wife, children, servants, all obedience pay, - The slaves at school no greater slaves than they; - No more dependant, he resumes the rein, - And shows the school-boy turbulence again. - “Were I a poet, I would say, he brings - To recollection some impetuous springs; - See one that issues from its humble source, - To gain new powers, and run its noisy course: - Frothy and fierce among the rocks it goes, - And threatens all that bound it or oppose; 40 - Till wider grown, and finding large increase, - Though bounded still, it moves along in peace; - And, as its waters to the ocean glide, - They bear a busy people on its tide; - But there arrived, and from its channel free, - Those swelling waters meet the mighty sea; - With threat’ning force the new-form’d billows swell, - And now affright the crowd they bore so well.” - “Yet,” said the rector, “all these early signs - Of vice are lost, and vice itself declines; 50 - Religion counsels; troubles, sorrows rise, - And the vile spirit in the conflict dies. - “Sir Hector Blane, the champion of the school, - Was very blockhead, but was form’d for rule; - Learn he could not; he said he could not learn, - But he profess’d it gave him no concern. - Books were his horror, dinner his delight, - And his amusement to shake hands and fight; - Argue he could not, but in case of doubt, - Or disputation, fairly box’d it out. 60 - This was his logic, and his arm so strong, - His cause prevail’d, and he was never wrong; - But so obtuse--you must have seen his look, - Desponding, angry, puzzled o’er his book. - “Can you not see him on the morn that proved - His skill in figures? Pluto’s self was moved-- - ‘Come, six times five?’ th’ impatient teacher cried; - In vain, the pupil shut his eyes, and sigh’d. - ‘Try, six times count your fingers; how he stands!-- - Your fingers, idiot!’--‘What, of both my hands?’ 70 - “With parts like these his father felt assured, - In busy times, a ship might be procured; - He too was pleased to be so early freed: - He now could fight, and he in time might read. - So he has fought, and in his country’s cause - Has gain’d him glory, and our hearts’ applause. - No more the blustering boy a school defies; } - We see the hero from the tyrant rise, } - And in the captain’s worth the student’s dulness dies.” } - “Be all allow’d;” replied the squire, “I give 80 - Praise to his actions; may their glory live! - Nay, I will hear him in his riper age - Fight his good ship, and with the foe engage; - Nor will I quit him when the cowards fly, - Although, like them, I dread his energy. - “But still, my friend, that ancient spirit reigns; - His powers support the credit of his brains, - Insisting ever that he must be right, - And for his reasons still prepared to fight. - Let him a judge of England’s prowess be, 90 - And all her floating terrors on the sea; - But this contents not, this is not denied; - He claims a right on all things to decide, - A kind of patent-wisdom; and he cries, - ‘’Tis so!’ and bold the hero that denies. - Thus the boy-spirit still the bosom rules, - And the world’s maxims were at first the school’s.” - “No doubt,” said Jacques, “there are in minds the seeds - Of good and ill, the virtues and the weeds; - But is it not of study the intent 100 - This growth of evil nature to prevent? - To check the progress of each idle shoot - That might retard the ripening of the fruit? - Our purpose certain, and we much effect, - We something cure, and something we correct; - But do your utmost: when the man you see, - You find him what you saw the boy would be, - Disguised a little; but we still behold - What pleased and what offended us of old. - Years from the mind no native stain remove, 110 - But lay the varnish of the world above. - Still, when he can, he loves to step aside - And be the boy, without a check or guide; - In the old wanderings he with pleasure strays, - And reassumes the bliss of earlier days. - “I left at school the boy with pensive look, - Whom some great patron order’d to his book; - Who from his mother’s cot reluctant came, - And gave my lord, for this compassion, fame; - Who, told of all his patron’s merit, sigh’d, 120 - I know not why, in sorrow or in pride; - And would, with vex’d and troubled spirit, cry, - ‘I am not happy; let your envy die.’ - Him left I with you; who, perhaps, can tell - If fortune bless’d him, or what fate befell. - I yet remember how the idlers ran - To see the carriage of the godlike man, - When pride restrain’d me; yet I thought the deed - Was noble, too--and how did it succeed?” - Jacques answer’d not till he had backward cast 130 - His view, and dwelt upon the evil past; - Then, as he sigh’d, he smil’d;--from folly rise - Such smiles, and misery will create such sighs. - And Richard now from his abstraction broke, - Listening attentive as the rector spoke. - - * * * * * - - “This noble lord was one disposed to try - And weigh the worth of each new luxury; - Now, at a certain time, in pleasant mood, - He tried the luxury of doing good. - For this he chose a widow’s handsome boy, 140 - Whom he would first improve, and then employ. - The boy was gentle, modest, civil, kind, - But not for bustling through the world design’d; - Reserved in manner, with a little gloom, - Apt to retire, but never to assume; - Possess’d of pride that he could not subdue, - Although he kept his origin in view. - Him sent my lord to school, and this became - A theme for praise, and gave his lordship fame; - But when the boy was told how great his debt, 150 - He proudly ask’d, ‘is it contracted yet?’ - “With care he studied, and with some success; - His patience great, but his acquirements less: - Yet when he heard that Charles would not excel, - His lordship answer’d, with a smile, ‘’tis well; - Let him proceed, and do the best he can, - I want no pedant, but a useful man.’ - “The speech was heard, and praise was amply dealt, - His lordship felt it, and he said he felt-- - ‘It is delightful,’ he observed, ‘to raise 160 - And foster merit--it is more than praise.’ - “Five years at school th’ industrious boy had past, - ‘And what,’ was whisper’d, ‘will be done at last?’ - “My lord was troubled, for he did not mean - To have his bounty watch’d and overseen; - Bounty that sleeps when men applaud no more - The generous act that waked their praise before; - The deed was pleasant while the praise was new, - But none the progress would with wonder view. - It was a debt contracted; he who pays 170 - A debt is just, but must not look for praise: - The deed that once had fame must still proceed, - Though fame no more proclaims ‘how great the deed!’ - The boy is taken from his mother’s side, - And he who took him must be now his guide. - But this, alas! instead of bringing fame, - A tax, a trouble, to my lord became. - “‘The boy is dull, you say,--why then by trade, - By law, by physic, nothing can be made; - If a small living--mine are both too large, 180 - And then the college is a cursed charge. - The sea is open; should he there display - Signs of dislike, he cannot run away.’ - “Now Charles, who acted no heroic part, - And felt no seaman’s glory warm his heart, - Refused the offer--anger touch’d my lord.-- - ‘He does not like it--Good, upon my word-- - If I at college place him, he will need - Supplies for ever, and will not succeed;-- - Doubtless in me ’tis duty to provide 190 - Not for his comfort only, but his pride-- - Let him to sea!’--He heard the words again, - With promise join’d--with threat’ning; all in vain: - Charles had his own pursuits; for aid to these - He had been thankful, and had tried to please; - But urged again, as meekly as a saint, - He humbly begg’d to stay at home, and paint. - ‘Yes, pay some dauber, that this stubborn fool - May grind his colours, and may boast his school.’ - “As both persisted, ‘Choose, good sir, your way,’ 200 - The peer exclaim’d, ‘I have no more to say, - I seek your good, but I have no command - Upon your will, nor your desire withstand.’ - “Resolved and firm, yet dreading to offend, - Charles pleaded _genius_ with his noble friend: - ‘Genius!’ he cried, ‘the name that triflers give - To their strong wishes without pains to live; - Genius! the plea of all who feel desire - Of fame, yet grudge the labours that acquire-- - But say ’tis true: how poor, how late the gain, 210 - And certain ruin if the hope be vain!’ - Then to the world appeal’d my lord, and cried, - ‘Whatever happens, I am justified.’ - Nay, it was trouble to his soul to find - There was such hardness in the human mind: - He wash’d his hands before the world, and swore - That he ‘such minds would patronize no more.’ - “Now Charles his bread by daily labours sought, - And this his solace, ‘so Corregio wrought.’ - Alas, poor youth! however great his name, 220 - And humble thine, thy fortune was the same. - Charles drew and painted, and some praise obtain’d - For care and pains; but little more was gain’d: - Fame was his hope, and he contempt display’d - For approbation, when ’twas coolly paid; - His daily tasks he call’d a waste of mind, - Vex’d at his fate, and angry with mankind: - ‘Thus have the blind to merit ever done, - And Genius mourn’d for each neglected son.’ - “Charles murmur’d thus, and, angry and alone, 230 - Half breathed the curse, and half suppress’d the groan; - Then still more sullen grew, and still more proud; } - Fame so refused he to himself allow’d; } - Crowds in contempt he held, and all to him was crowd. } - “If aught on earth, the youth his mother loved, - And, at her death, to distant scenes removed. - “Years past away, and where he lived, and how, - Was then unknown--indeed we know not now; - But once at twilight walking up and down, - In a poor alley of the mighty town, 240 - Where, in her narrow courts and garrets, hide - The grieving sons of genius, want, and pride, - I met him musing; sadness I could trace, - And conquer’d hope’s meek anguish, in his face. - See him I must; but I with ease address’d, - And neither pity nor surprise express’d; - I strove both grief and pleasure to restrain, - But yet I saw that I was giving pain. - He said, with quick’ning pace, as loth to hold - A longer converse, that ‘the day was cold, 250 - That he was well, that I had scarcely light - To aid my steps,’ and bade me then good night! - “I saw him next where he had lately come, - A silent pauper in a crowded room; - I heard his name, but he conceal’d his face, - To his sad mind his misery was disgrace; - In vain I strove to combat his disdain - Of my compassion----‘Sir, I pray, refrain;’ - For I had left my friends and stepp’d aside, - Because I fear’d his unrelenting pride. 260 - “He then was sitting on a workhouse-bed, - And on the naked boards reclined his head, - Around were children with incessant cry, - And near was one, like him, about to die; - A broken chair’s deal bottom held the store - That he required--he soon would need no more; - A yellow tea-pot, standing at his side, - From its half-spout the cold, black tea supplied. - “Hither, it seem’d, the fainting man was brought, - Found without food--it was no longer sought; 270 - For his employers knew not whom they paid, - Nor where to seek him whom they wish’d to aid. - Here brought, some kind attendant he address’d, - And sought some trifles which he yet possess’d; - Then named a lightless closet, in a room - Hired at small rate, a garret’s deepest gloom. - They sought the region, and they brought him all - That he his own, his proper wealth could call: - A better coat, less pieced; some linen neat, - Not whole; and papers, many a valued sheet-- 280 - Designs and drawings; these, at his desire, - Were placed before him at the chamber fire, - And while th’ admiring people stood to gaze, - He, one by one, committed to the blaze, - Smiling in spleen; but one he held awhile, - And gave it to the flames, and could not smile. - “The sickening man--for such appear’d the fact-- - Just in his need, would not a debt contract; - But left his poor apartment for the bed - That earth might yield him, or some way-side shed; 290 - Here he was found, and to this place convey’d, - Where he might rest, and his last debt be paid: - Fame was his wish, but he so far from fame, } - That no one knew his kindred, or his name, } - Or by what means he lived, or from what place he came. } - “Poor Charles! unnoticed by thy titled friend, - Thy days had calmly past, in peace thine end; - Led by thy patron’s vanity astray, - Thy own misled thee in thy trackless way, - Urging thee on by hope absurd and vain, 300 - Where never peace or comfort smiled again! - “Once more I saw him, when his spirits fail’d, - And my desire to aid him then prevail’d; - He show’d a softer feeling in his eye, - And watch’d my looks, and own’d the sympathy. - ’Twas now the calm of wearied pride; so long - As he had strength was his resentment strong; - But in such place, with strangers all around, - And they such strangers, to have something found - Allied to his own heart, an early friend-- } 310 - One, only one, who would on him attend, } - To give and take a look at this his journey’s end! } - One link, however slender, of the chain - That held him where he could not long remain; - The one sole interest!--No, he could not now - Retain his anger; Nature knew not how; - And so there came a softness to his mind, - And he forgave the usage of mankind. - His cold long fingers now were press’d to mine, - And his faint smile of kinder thoughts gave sign; 320 - His lips moved often as he tried to lend - His words their sound, and softly whisper’d ‘friend!’ - Not without comfort in the thought express’d - By that calm look with which he sank to rest.” - - * * * * * - - “The man,” said George, “you see, through life retain’d - The boy’s defects; his virtues too remain’d. - “But where are now those minds so light and gay, } - So forced on study, so intent on play, } - Swept, by the world’s rude blasts, from hope’s dear } - views away } - Some grieved for long neglect in earlier times, 330 - Some sad from frailties, some lamenting crimes; - Thinking, with sorrow, on the season lent - For noble purpose, and in trifling spent; - And now, at last, when they in earnest view - The nothings done--what work they find to do! - Where is that virtue that the generous boy - Felt, and resolved that nothing should destroy? - He who with noble indignation glow’d - When vice had triumph? who his tear bestow’d - On injured merit? he who would possess 340 - Power, but to aid the children of distress; - Who has such joy in generous actions shown, - And so sincere, they might be call’d his own; - Knight, hero, patriot, martyr! on whose tongue, - And potent arm, a nation’s welfare hung; - He who to public misery brought relief, - And soothed the anguish of domestic grief? - Where now this virtue’s fervour, spirit, zeal? - Who felt so warmly, has he ceased to feel? - The boy’s emotions of that noble kind, 350 - Ah! sure th’ experienced man has not resign’d; - Or are these feelings varied? has the knight, - Virtue’s own champion, now refused to fight? - Is the deliverer turn’d th’ oppressor now? - Has the reformer dropt the dangerous vow? - Or has the patriot’s bosom lost its heat, - And forced him, shivering, to a snug retreat? - Is such the grievous lapse of human pride? - Is such the victory of the worth untried? - “Here will I pause, and then review the shame 360 - Of Harry Bland, to hear his parent’s name. - That mild, that modest boy, whom well we knew, - In him long time the secret sorrow grew; - He wept alone; then to his friend confess’d - The grievous fears that his pure mind oppress’d; - And thus, when terror o’er his shame obtain’d - A painful conquest, he his case explain’d; - And first his favourite question’d--‘Willie, tell, - Do all the wicked people go to hell?’ - “Willie with caution answer’d, ‘Yes, they do, 370 - Or else repent; but what is this to you?’ - ‘O! yes, dear friend:’ he then his tale began-- - ‘He fear’d his father was a wicked man, - Nor had repented of his naughty life; - The wife he had indeed was not a wife, - Not as my mother was; the servants all - Call her a name--I’ll whisper what they call. - She saw me weep, and ask’d, in high disdain, - If tears could bring my mother back again? - This I could bear, but not when she pretends 380 - Such fond regard, and what I speak commends; - Talks of my learning, fawning wretch! and tries - To make me love her,--love! when I despise. - Indeed I had it in my heart to say - Words of reproach, before I came away; - And then my father’s look is not the same, - He puts his anger on to hide his shame.’ - “With all these feelings delicate and nice, - This dread of infamy, this scorn of vice, - He left the school, accepting, though with pride, 390 - His father’s aid--but there would not reside; - He married then a lovely maid, approved - Of every heart as worthy to be loved; - Mild as the morn in summer, firm as truth, - And graced with wisdom in the bloom of youth. - “How is it, men, when they in judgment sit - On the same fault, now censure, now acquit? - Is it not thus, that _here_ we view the sin, - And _there_ the powerful cause that drew us in? - ’Tis not that men are to the evil blind, 400 - But that a different object fills the mind. - In judging others we can see too well - Their grievous fall, but not how grieved they fell; - Judging ourselves, we to our minds recall, - Not how we fell, but how we grieved to fall. - Or could this man, so vex’d in early time, - By this strong feeling for his father’s crime; - Who to the parent’s sin was barely just, - And mix’d with filial fear the man’s disgust-- - Could he, without some strong delusion, quit 410 - The path of duty, and to shame submit? - Cast off the virtue he so highly prized, - ‘And be the very creature he despised?’ - “A tenant’s wife, half forward, half afraid, - Features, it seem’d, of powerful cast displayed, - That bore down faith and duty; common fame - Speaks of a contract that augments the shame. - “There goes he, not unseen, so strong the will, - And blind the wish, that bear him to the mill; - There he degraded sits, and strives to please 420 - The miller’s children, laughing at his knees; - And little Dorcas, now familiar grown, - Talks of her rich papa, and of her own. - He woos the mother’s now precarious smile - By costly gifts, that tempers reconcile; - While the rough husband, yielding to the pay - That buys his absence, growling stalks away. - ’Tis said th’ offending man will sometimes sigh, - And say, ‘My God, in what a dream am I! - I will awake;’ but, as the day proceeds, 430 - The weaken’d mind the day’s indulgence needs; - Hating himself at every step he takes, - His mind approves the virtue he forsakes, - And yet forsakes her. O! how sharp the pain, - Our vice, ourselves, our habits to disdain; - To go where never yet in peace we went; } - To feel our hearts can bleed, yet not relent; } - To sigh, yet not recede; to grieve, yet not repent!” } - - - - -TALES OF THE HALL. - -BOOK IV. - -_ADVENTURES OF RICHARD._ - - Meeting of the Brothers in the Morning--Pictures, - Music, Books--The Autumnal Walk--The - Farm--The Flock--Effect of Retirement upon - the Mind--Dinner--Richard’s Adventure at - Sea--George inquires into the Education of his - Brother--Richard’s Account of his Occupations - in his early Life: his Pursuits, Associations, - Partialities, Affections and Feelings--His Love of - Freedom--The Society he chose--The Friendships he - engaged in--and the Habits he contracted. - -TALES OF THE HALL. - -BOOK IV. - -_ADVENTURES OF RICHARD._ - - Eight days had past; the Brothers now could meet - With ease, and take the customary seat. - “These” said the host--for he perceived where stray’d - His brother’s eye, and what he now survey’d-- - “These are the costly trifles that we buy, - Urged by the strong demands of vanity, - The thirst and hunger of a mind diseased, - That must with purchased flattery be appeased; - But yet, ’tis true, the things that you behold - Serve to amuse us as we’re getting old. 10 - These pictures, as I heard our artists say, - Are genuine all, and I believe they may; - They cost the genuine sums, and I should grieve - If, being willing, I could not believe. - And there is music; when the ladies come, - With their keen looks they scrutinize the room - To see what pleases, and I must expect - To yield them pleasure, or to find neglect: - For, as attractions from our person fly, - Our purses, Richard, must the want supply; 20 - Yet would it vex me, could the triflers know - That they can shut out comfort or bestow. - “But see this room: here, Richard, you will find - Books for all palates, food for every mind; - This readers term the ever-new delight, - And so it is, if minds have appetite: - Mine once was craving; great my joy, indeed, - Had I possess’d such food when I could feed; - When at the call of every new-born wish - I could have keenly relish’d every dish-- 30 - Now, Richard, now, I stalk around and look - Upon the dress and title of a book, - Try half a page, and then can taste no more, - But the dull volume to its place restore; - Begin a second slowly to peruse, - Then cast it by, and look about for news; - The news itself grows dull in long debates-- - I skip, and see what the conclusion states; - And many a speech, with zeal and study made - Cold and resisting spirits to persuade, 40 - Is lost on mine; alone, we cease to feel - What crowds admire, and wonder at their zeal. - “But how the day? No fairer will it be? } - Walk you? Alas! ’tis requisite for me-- } - Nay, let me not prescribe--my friends and guests are free.” } - - * * * * * - - It was a fair and mild autumnal sky, - And earth’s ripe treasures met th’ admiring eye, - As a rich beauty, when her bloom is lost, - Appears with more magnificence and cost. - The wet and heavy grass, where feet had stray’d, 50 - Not yet erect, the wanderer’s way betray’d; - Showers of the night had swell’d the deep’ning rill; - The morning breeze had urged the quick’ning mill; - Assembled rooks had wing’d their sea-ward flight, } - By the same passage to return at night; } - While proudly o’er them hung the steady kite, } - Then turn’d him back, and left the noisy throng, - Nor deign’d to know them as he sail’d along. - Long yellow leaves from oziers, strew’d around, - Choked the small stream, and hush’d the feeble sound; 60 - While the dead foliage dropt from loftier trees - Our squire beheld not with his wonted ease, - But to his own reflections made reply, - And said aloud, “Yes! doubtless we must die.” - “We must;” said Richard, “and we would not live - To feel what dotage and decay will give; - But we yet taste whatever we behold: - The morn is lovely, though the air is cold; - There is delicious quiet in this scene, - At once so rich, so varied, so serene; 70 - Sounds too delight us--each discordant tone - Thus mingled please, that fail to please alone: - This hollow wind, this rustling of the brook, } - The farm-yard noise, the woodman at yon oak-- } - See, the axe falls!--now listen to the stroke! } - That gun itself, that murders all this peace, - Adds to the charm, because it soon must cease.” - “No doubt,” said George, “the country has its charms! - My farm behold! the model for all farms! - Look at that land--you find not there a weed, 80 - We grub the roots, and suffer none to seed. - To land like this no botanist will come, - To seek the precious ware he hides at home; - Pressing the leaves and flowers with effort nice, - As if they came from herbs in Paradise; - Let them their favourites with my neighbours see, - They have no--what?--no _habitat_ with me. - “Now see my flock, and hear its glory;--none - Have that vast body and that slender bone; - They are the village boast, the dealer’s theme, 90 - Fleece of such staple! flesh in such esteem!” - “Brother,” said Richard, “do I hear aright? - Does the land truly give so much delight?” - “So says my bailiff; sometimes I have tried - To catch the joy, but nature has denied; - It will not be--the mind has had a store - Laid up for life, and will admit no more. - Worn out in trials, and about to die, - In vain to these we for amusement fly; - We farm, we garden, we our poor employ, 100 - And much command, though little we enjoy; - Or, if ambitious, we employ our pen, - We plant a desert, or we drain a fen; - And--here, behold my medal!--this will show - What men may merit when they nothing know.” - “Yet reason here,” said Richard, “joins with pride:--” - “I did not ask th’ alliance,” George replied-- - “I grant it true, such trifle may induce - A dull, proud man to wake and be of use; - And there are purer pleasures, that a mind 110 - Calm and uninjured may in villas find; - But, where th’ affections have been deeply tried, - With other food that mind must be supplied: - ’Tis not in trees or medals to impart - The powerful medicine for an aching heart; - The agitation dies, but there is still - The backward spirit, the resisting will. - Man takes his body to a country seat, - But minds, dear Richard, have their own retreat; - Oft when the feet are pacing o’er the green 120 - The mind is gone where never grass was seen, - And never thinks of hill, or vale, or plain, } - Till want of rest creates a sense of pain, } - That calls that wandering mind, and brings it home again. } - No more of farms; but here I boast of minds - That make a friend the richer when he finds: - These shalt thou see;--but, Richard, be it known, - Who thinks to see must in his turn be shown.-- - But now farewell! to thee will I resign - Woods, walks, and valleys! take them till we dine.” 130 - - * * * * * - - The Brothers dined, and with that plenteous fare - That seldom fails to dissipate our care, - At least the lighter kind; and oft prevails - When reason, duty, nay, when kindness fails. - Yet food and wine, and all that mortals bless, - Lead them to think of peril and distress-- - Cold, hunger, danger, solitude, and pain, - That men in life’s adventurous ways sustain. - “Thou hast sail’d far, dear brother,” said the ’squire-- - “Permit me of these unknown lands t’ inquire, 140 - Lands never till’d, where thou hast wondering been, - And all the marvels thou hast heard and seen. - Do tell me something of the miseries felt - In climes where travellers freeze, and where they melt; - And be not nice--we know ’tis not in men - Who travel far to hold a steady pen. - Some will, ’tis true, a bolder freedom take, - And keep our wonder always wide awake; - We know of those whose dangers far exceed - Our frail belief, that trembles as we read: 150 - Such as in deserts burn, and thirst, and die, - Save a last gasp that they recover by; - Then, too, their hazard from a tyrant’s arms, - A tiger’s fury, or a lady’s charms; - Beside th’ accumulated evils borne - From the bold outset to the safe return. - These men abuse; but thou hast fair pretence - To modest dealing, and to mild good sense; - Then let me hear thy struggles and escapes - In the far lands of crocodiles and apes: 160 - Say, hast thou, Bruce-like, knelt upon the bed - Where the young Nile uplifts his branchy head? - Or been partaker of th’ unhallow’d feast, - Where beast-like man devours his fellow beast, - And churn’d the bleeding life? while each great dame - And sovereign beauty bade adieu to shame? - Or did the storm, that thy wreck’d pinnace bore, - Impel thee gasping on some unknown shore; - Where, when thy beard and nails were savage grown, - Some swarthy princess took thee for her own, 170 - Some danger-dreading Yarico, who, kind, - Sent thee away, and, prudent, staid behind? - “Come--I am ready wonders to receive, - Prone to assent, and willing to believe.” - Richard replied: “It must be known to you, - That tales improbable may yet be true; - And yet it is a foolish thing to tell - A tale that shall be judged improbable; - While some impossibilities appear - So like the truth, that we assenting hear: 180 - Yet, with your leave, I venture to relate - A chance-affair, and fact alone will state; - Though, I confess, it may suspicion breed, - And you may cry, ‘improbable, indeed!’ - - * * * * * - - “When first I tried the sea, I took a trip, - But duty none, in a relation’s ship; - Thus, unengaged, I felt my spirits light, - Kept care at distance, and put fear to flight; - Oft this same spirit in my friends prevail’d, - Buoyant in dangers, rising when assail’d; 190 - When, as the gale at evening died away-- - And die it will with the retiring day-- - Impatient then, and sick of very ease, - We loudly whistled for the slumbering breeze. - “One eve it came; and, frantic in my joy, - I rose and danced, as idle as a boy: - The cabin-lights were down, that we might learn - A trifling something from the ship astern; - The stiffening gale bore up the growing wave, - And wilder motion to my madness gave. 200 - Oft have I since, when thoughtful and at rest, - Believed some maddening power my mind possess’d; - For, in an instant, as the stern sank low, - (How moved I knew not--What can madness know?) - Chance that direction to my motion gave, - And plunged me headlong in the roaring wave; - Swift flew the parting ship,--the fainter light - Withdrew,--or horror took them from my sight. - “All was confused above, beneath, around; - All sounds of terror; no distinguish’d sound 210 - Could reach me, now on sweeping surges tost, - And then between the rising billows lost; - An undefined sensation stopp’d my breath; - Disorder’d views and threat’ning signs of death - Met in one moment, and a terror gave-- - I cannot paint it--to the moving grave. - My thoughts were all distressing, hurried, mix’d, - On all things fixing, not a moment fix’d, - Vague thoughts of instant danger brought their pain, - New hopes of safety banish’d them again; 220 - Then the swoln billow all these hopes destroy’d, - And left me sinking in the mighty void. - Weaker I grew, and grew the more dismay’d, - Of aid all hopeless, yet in search of aid; - Struggling awhile upon the wave to keep, - Then, languid, sinking in the yawning deep. - So tost, so lost, so sinking in despair, - I pray’d in heart an indirected prayer, - And then once more I gave my eyes to view - The ship now lost, and bade the light adieu! 230 - From my chill’d frame th’ enfeebled spirit fled, } - Rose the tall billows round my deep’ning bed, } - Cold seized my heart, thought ceased, and I was dead. } - “Brother, I have not--man has not, the power - To paint the horrors of that life-long hour-- - Hour!--but of time I knew not--when I found - Hope, youth, life, love, and all they promised, drown’d; - When all so indistinct, so undefined, - So dark and dreadful, overcame the mind; - When such confusion on the spirit dwelt, 240 - That, feeling much, it knew not what it felt. - “Can I, my brother--ought I to forget - That night of terror? No! it threatens yet. - Shall I days, months--nay, years indeed neglect, - Who then could feel what moments must effect, - Were aught effected? who, in that wild storm, - Found there was nothing I could well perform; - For what to us are moments, what are hours, - If lost our judgment, and confused our powers? - “Oft in the times when passion strives to reign, 250 - When duty feebly holds the slacken’d chain, - When reason slumbers, then remembrance draws } - This view of death, and folly makes a pause-- } - The view o’ercomes the vice, the fear the frenzy awes. } - “I know there wants not this to make it true, - ‘What danger bids be done, in safety do’; - Yet such escapes may make our purpose sure; - Who slights such warning may be too secure.” - “But the escape!”--“Whate’er they judged might save - Their sinking friend they cast upon the wave; 260 - Something of these my heaven-directed arm - Unconscious seized, and held as by a charm; - The crew astern beheld me as I swam, - And I am saved--O! let me say I am.” - - * * * * * - - “Brother,” said George, “I have neglected long - To think of all thy perils--it was wrong; - But do forgive me; for I could not be - Than of myself more negligent of thee. - Now tell me, Richard, from the boyish years - Of thy young mind, that now so rich appears, 270 - How was it stored? ’twas told me, thou wert wild, - A truant urchin, a neglected child. - I heard of this escape, and sat supine - Amid the danger that exceeded thine; - Thou couldst but die--the waves could but infold - Thy warm, gay heart, and make that bosom cold-- - While I--but no! Proceed, and give me truth; - How past the years of thy unguided youth? - Thy father left thee to the care of one - Who could not teach, could ill support a son; 280 - Yet time and trouble feeble minds have stay’d, - And fit for long-neglected duties made. - I see thee struggling in the world, as late - Within the waves, and, with an equal fate, - By Heaven preserved--but tell me, whence and how - Thy gleaning came?--a dexterous gleaner thou!” - “Left by that father, who was known to few, - And to that mother, who has not her due - Of honest fame,” said Richard, “our retreat - Was a small cottage, for our station meet, 290 - On Barford Downs; that mother, fond and poor, - There taught some truths, and bade me seek for more, - Such as our village-school and books a few - Supplied; but such I cared not to pursue. - I sought the town, and to the ocean gave - My mind and thoughts, as restless as the wave; - Where crowds assembled, I was sure to run, - Hear[d] what was said, and mused on what was done; - Attentive listening in the moving scene, - And often wondering what the men could mean. 300 - “When ships at sea made signals of their need, - I watch’d on shore the sailors, and their speed; - Mix’d in their act, nor rested till I knew - Why they were call’d, and what they were to do. - “Whatever business in the port was done, - I, without call, was with the busy one; - Not daring question, but with open ear - And greedy spirit, ever bent to hear. - “To me the wives of seamen loved to tell - What storms endanger’d men esteem’d so well; 310 - What wond’rous things in foreign parts they saw, - Lands without bounds, and people without law. - “No ships were wreck’d upon that fatal beach, - But I could give the luckless tale of each; - Eager I look’d, till I beheld a face - Of one disposed to paint their dismal case; - Who gave the sad survivors’ doleful tale, - From the first brushing of the mighty gale - Until they struck; and, suffering in their fate, - I long’d the more they should its horrors state; 320 - While some, the fond of pity, would enjoy - The earnest sorrows of the feeling boy. - “I sought the men return’d from regions cold, - The frozen straits, where icy mountains roll’d; - Some I could win to tell me serious tales - Of boats uplifted by enormous whales, - Or, when harpoon’d, how swiftly through the sea - The wounded monsters with the cordage flee. - Yet some uneasy thoughts assail’d me then: - The monsters warr’d not with, nor wounded, men. 330 - The smaller fry we take, with scales and fins, - Who gasp and die--this adds not to our sins; - But so much blood, warm life, and frames so large - To strike, to murder--seem’d an heavy charge. - “They told of days, where many goes to one-- - Such days as ours; and how a larger sun, - Red, but not flaming, roll’d, with motion slow, - On the world’s edge, and never dropt below. - “There were fond girls, who took me to their side - To tell the story how their lovers died; 340 - They praised my tender heart, and bade me prove - Both kind and constant when I came to love. - In fact, I lived for many an idle year - In fond pursuit of agitations dear; - For ever seeking, ever pleased to find, - The food I loved, I thought not of its kind; - It gave affliction while it brought delight, - And joy and anguish could at once excite. - “One gusty day, now stormy and now still, - I stood apart upon the western hill, 350 - And saw a race at sea: a gun was heard, - And two contending boats in sail appear’d, - Equal awhile; then one was left behind, - And for a moment had her chance resign’d, - When, in that moment, up a sail they drew-- - Not used before--their rivals to pursue. - Strong was the gale! in hurry now there came - Men from the town, their thoughts, their fears the same; - And women too! affrighted maids and wives, - All deeply feeling for their sailors’ lives. 360 - “The strife continued; in a glass we saw - The desperate efforts, and we stood in awe: - When the last boat shot suddenly before, - Then fill’d, and sank--and could be seen no more! - “Then were those piercing shrieks, that frantic flight, - All hurried! all in tumult and affright! - A gathering crowd from different streets drew near; - All ask, all answer--none attend, none hear! - “One boat is safe; and see! she backs her sail - To save the sinking--Will her care avail? 370 - “O! how impatient on the sands we tread, - And the winds roaring, and the women led, - As up and down they pace with frantic air, - And scorn a comforter, and will despair; - They know not who in either boat is gone, - But think the father, husband, lover, one. - “And who is she apart? She dares not come - To join the crowd, yet cannot rest at home: - With what strong interest looks she at the waves, - Meeting and clashing o’er the seamen’s graves: 380 - ’Tis a poor girl betroth’d--a few hours more, - And _he_ will lie a corpse upon the shore. - “Strange, that a boy could love these scenes, and cry - In very pity--but that boy was I. - With pain my mother would my tales receive, - And say, ‘my Richard, do not learn to grieve.’ - “One wretched hour had past before we knew - Whom they had saved! Alas! they were but two, - An orphan’d lad and widow’d man--no more! - And they unnoticed stood upon the shore, 390 - With scarce a friend to greet them--widows view’d - This man and boy, and then their cries renew’d;-- - ’Twas long before the signs of wo gave place - To joy again; grief sat on every face. - “Sure of my mother’s kindness, and the joy - She felt in meeting her rebellious boy, - I at my pleasure our new seat forsook, - And, undirected, these excursions took: - I often rambled to the noisy quay, - Strange sounds to hear, and business strange to me; 400 - Seamen and carmen, and I know not who, - A lewd, amphibious, rude, contentious crew-- - Confused as bees appear about their hive, - Yet all alert to keep their work alive. - “Here, unobserved as weed upon the wave, - My whole attention to the scene I gave; - I saw their tasks, their toil, their care, their skill, - Led by their own and by a master-will; - And, though contending, toiling, tugging on, - The purposed business of the day was done. 410 - “The open shops of craftsmen caught my eye, - And there my questions met the kind reply: - Men, when alone, will teach; but, in a crowd, - The child is silent, or the man is proud; - But, by themselves, there is attention paid - To a mild boy, so forward, yet afraid. - “I made me interest at the inn’s fire-side, - Amid the scenes to bolder boys denied; - For I had patrons there, and I was one, - They judged, who noticed nothing that was done. 420 - ‘A quiet lad!’ would my protector say; - ‘To him, now, this is better than his play: - Boys are as men; some active, shrewd, and keen, - They look about if aught is to be seen; - And some, like Richard here, have not a mind - That takes a notice--but the lad is kind.’ - “I loved in summer on the heath to walk, - And seek the shepherd--shepherds love to talk. - His superstition was of ranker kind, - And he with tales of wonder stored my mind; 430 - Wonders that he in many a lonely eve - Had seen, himself, and therefore must believe. - His boy, his Joe, he said, from duty ran, - Took to the sea, and grew a fearless man: - ‘On yonder knoll--the sheep were in the fold-- - His spirit past me, shivering-like and cold! - I felt a fluttering, but I knew not how, - And heard him utter, like a whisper, ‘now!’ - Soon came a letter from a friend--to tell - That he had fallen, and the time he fell.’ 440 - “Even to the smugglers’ hut the rocks between, - I have, adventurous in my wandering, been. - Poor, pious Martha served the lawless tribe, - And could their merits and their faults describe; - Adding her thoughts; ‘I talk, my child, to you, - Who little think of what such wretches do.’ - “I loved to walk where none had walk’d before, - About the rocks that ran along the shore; - Or far beyond the sight of men to stray, - And take my pleasure when I lost my way; 450 - For then ’twas mine to trace the hilly heath, - And all the mossy moor that lies beneath: - Here had I favourite stations, where I stood - And heard the murmurs of the ocean-flood, - With not a sound beside, except when flew - Aloft the lapwing, or the gray curlew, - Who with wild notes my fancied power defied, - And mock’d the dreams of solitary pride. - “I loved to stop at every creek and bay - Made by the river in its winding way, 460 - And call to memory--not by marks they bare, - But by the thoughts that were created there. - “Pleasant it was to view the sea-gulls strive - Against the storm, or in the ocean dive, - With eager scream, or when they dropping gave - Their closing wings to sail upon the wave: - Then, as the winds and waters raged around, - And breaking billows mix’d their deafening sound, - They on the rolling deep securely hung, - And calmly rode the restless waves among. 470 - Nor pleased it less around me to behold, - Far up the beach, the yesty sea-foam roll’d; - Or, from the shore upborn, to see on high - Its frothy flakes in wild confusion fly; - While the salt spray that clashing billows form, - Gave to the taste a feeling of the storm. - “Thus, with my favourite views, for many an hour - Have I indulged the dreams of princely power; - When the mind, weaned by excursions bold, - The fancy jaded, and the bosom cold, 480 - Or when those wants that will on kings intrude, - Or evening-fears, broke in on solitude; - When I no more my fancy could employ, } - I left in haste what I could not enjoy, } - And was my gentle mother’s welcome boy. } - “But now thy walk,--this soft autumnal gloom - Bids no delay--at night I will resume - My subject, showing, not how I improved - In my strange school, but what the things I loved, - My first-born friendships, ties by forms uncheck’d, 490 - And all that boys acquire whom men neglect.” - - - - -TALES OF THE HALL. - -BOOK V. - -_RUTH._ - - - Richard resumes his Narrative--Visits a Family - in a Seaport--The Man and his Wife--Their - Dwelling--Books, Number and Kind--The Friendship - contracted--Employment there--Hannah, the Wife, - her Manner; open Mirth and latent Grief--She - gives the Story of Ruth, her Daughter--Of Thomas, - a Sailor--Their Affection--A Press-gang-- - Reflections--Ruth disturbed in Mind--A Teacher - sent to comfort her--His Fondness--Her Reception - of him--Her Supplication--Is refused--She - deliberates--Is decided. - -TALES OF THE HALL. - -BOOK V. - -_RUTH._ - - Richard would wait till George the tale should ask, - Nor waited long--He then resumed the task. - “South in the port, and eastward in the street, - Rose a small dwelling, my beloved retreat, - Where lived a pair, then old; the sons had fled - The home they fill’d; a part of them were dead, - Married a part, while some at sea remain’d, - And stillness in the seaman’s mansion reign’d; - Lord of some petty craft, by night and day, - The man had fish’d each fathom of the bay. 10 - “My friend the matron woo’d me, quickly won, - To fill the station of an absent son - (Him whom at school I knew, and, Peter known, - I took his home and mother for my own). - I read, and doubly was I paid to hear - Events that fell upon no listless ear: - She grieved to say her parents could neglect - Her education!--’twas a sore defect; - She, who had ever such a vast delight - To learn, and now could neither read nor write:-- 20 - But hear she could, and from our stores I took, - Librarian meet! at her desire our book. - Full twenty volumes--I would not exceed - The modest truth--were there for me to read; - These a long shelf contain’d, and they were found - Books truly speaking, volumes fairly bound; - The rest--for some of other kinds remain’d, - And these a board beneath the shelf contain’d-- - Had their deficiencies in part; they lack’d - One side or both, or were no longer back’d; 30 - But now became degraded from their place, - And were but pamphlets of a bulkier race. - Yet had we pamphlets, an inviting store, - From sixpence downwards--nay, a part were more; - Learning abundance, and the various kinds - For relaxation--food for different minds; - A piece of Wingate--thanks for all we have-- - What we of figures needed, fully gave; - Culpepper, new in numbers, cost but thrice - The ancient volume’s unassuming price, 40 - But told what planet o’er each herb had power, - And how to take it in the lucky hour. - “History we had--wars, treasons, treaties, crimes, - From Julius Cæsar to the present times; - Questions and answers, teaching what to ask - And what reply--a kind, laborious task; - A scholar’s book it was, who, giving, swore - It held the whole he wish’d to know, and more. - “And we had poets, hymns and songs divine; - The most we read not, but allow’d them fine. 50 - “Our tracts were many, on the boldest themes-- - We had our metaphysics, spirits, dreams, - Visions and warnings, and portentous sights - Seen, though but dimly, in the doleful nights, - When the good wife her wintry vigil keeps, - And thinks alone of him at sea, and weeps. - “Add to all these our works in single sheets, - That our Cassandras sing about the streets. - These, as I read, the grave good man would say, - ‘Nay, Hannah!’ and she answer’d ‘What is Nay? 60 - What is there, pray, so hurtful in a song? - It is our fancy only makes it wrong; - His purer mind no evil thoughts alarm, - And innocence protects him like a charm.’ - Then would the matron, when the song had past, - And her laugh over, ask an hymn at last; - To the coarse jest she would attention lend, - And to the pious psalm in reverence bend. - She gave her every power and all her mind - As chance directed, or as taste inclined. 70 - “More of our learning I will now omit: } - We had our Cyclopædias of Wit, } - And all our works, rare fate, were to our genius fit. } - “When I had read, and we were weary grown - Of other minds, the dame disclosed her own; - And long have I in pleasing terror stay’d } - To hear of boys trepann’d, and girls betray’d; } - Ashamed so long to stay, and yet to go afraid. } - “I could perceive, though Hannah bore full well - The ills of life, that few with her would dwell, 80 - But pass away, like shadows o’er the plain - From flying clouds, and leave it fair again; - Still every evil, be it great or small, - Would one past sorrow to the mind recal-- - The grand disease of life, to which she turns, - And common cares and lighter suffering spurns. - ‘O! these are nothing,--they will never heed - Such idle contests who have fought indeed, - And have the wounds unclosed.’--I understood - My hint to speak, and my design pursued, 90 - Curious the secret of that heart to find, } - To mirth, to song, to laughter loud inclined, } - And yet to bear and feel a weight of grief behind. } - How does she thus her little sunshine throw - Always before her?--I should like to know. - My friend perceived, and would no longer hide } - The bosom’s sorrow--Could she not confide } - In one who wept, unhurt--in one who felt, untried? } - ‘Dear child, I show you sins and sufferings strange, - But you, like Adam, must for knowledge change 100 - That blissful ignorance: remember, then, - What now you feel should be a check on men; - For then your passions no debate allow, - And therefore lay up resolution now. - ’Tis not enough, that when you can persuade - A maid to love, you know there’s promise made; - ’Tis not enough, that you design to keep - That promise made, nor leave your lass to weep: - But you must guard yourself against the sin, - And think it such to draw the party in; 110 - Nay, the more weak and easy to be won, - The viler you who have the mischief done. - I am not angry, love; but men should know - They cannot always pay the debt they owe - Their plighted honour; they may cause the ill - They cannot lessen, though they feel a will; - For _he_ had truth with love, but love in youth - Does wrong, that cannot be repair’d by truth. - Ruth--I may tell, too oft had she been told-- - Was tall and fair, and comely to behold; 120 - Gentle and simple, in her native place - Not one compared with her in form or face; - She was not merry, but she gave our hearth - A cheerful spirit that was more than mirth. - There was a sailor boy, and people said - He was, as man, a likeness of the maid; - But not in this--for he was ever glad, - While Ruth was apprehensive, mild, and sad; - A quiet spirit hers, and peace would seek - In meditation--tender, mild, and meek! 130 - Her loved the lad most truly; and, in truth, - She took an early liking to the youth; - To her alone were his attentions paid, - And they became the bachelor and maid. - He wish’d to marry; but so prudent we - And worldly wise, we said it could not be. - They took the counsel--may be they approved-- - But still they grieved and waited, hoped and loved. - Now, my young friend, when of such state I speak - As one of danger, you will be to seek: 140 - You know not, Richard, where the danger lies - In loving hearts, kind words, and speaking eyes; - For lovers speak their wishes with their looks - As plainly, love, as you can read your books. - Then, too, the meetings and the partings, all - The playful quarrels in which lovers fall, - Serve to one end--each lover is a child, - Quick to resent and to be reconciled; - And then their peace brings kindness that remains, - And so the lover from the quarrel gains. 150 - When he has fault that she reproves, his fear - And grief assure her she was too severe: - And that brings kindness--when he bears an ill, } - Or disappointment, and is calm and still, } - She feels his own obedient to her will: } - And that brings kindness--and what kindness brings - I cannot tell you;--these were trying things. - They were as children, and they fell at length; - The trial, doubtless, is beyond their strength - Whom grace supports not; and will grace support 160 - The too confiding, who their danger court? - Then they would marry--but were now too late-- - All could their fault in sport or malice state; - And though the day was fix’d, and now drew on, - I could perceive my daughter’s peace was gone; - She could not bear the bold and laughing eye } - That gazed on her--reproach she could not fly; } - Her grief she would not show, her shame could not deny;} - For some with many virtues come to shame, - And some that lose them all preserve their name. 170 - “‘Fix’d was the day; but ere that day appear’d, - A frightful rumour through the place was heard; - War, who had slept awhile, awaked once more, - And gangs came pressing till they swept the shore: - Our youth was seized and quickly sent away, - Nor would the wretches for his marriage stay, - But bore him off, in barbarous triumph bore, - And left us all our miseries to deplore. - There were wives, maids, and mothers on the beach, - And some sad story appertain’d to each; 180 - Most sad to Ruth--to neither could she go! - But sat apart, and suffer’d matchless wo! - On the vile ship they turn’d their earnest view, } - Not one last [look] allow’d,--not one adieu! } - They saw the men on deck, but none distinctly knew. } - And there she staid, regardless of each eye, - With but one hope, a fervent hope to die. - Nor cared she now for kindness--all beheld - Her, who invited none, and none repell’d; - For there are griefs, my child, that sufferers hide, 190 - And there are griefs that men display with pride; - But there are other griefs that, so we feel, - We care not to display them nor conceal: - Such were our sorrows on that fatal day, - More than our lives the spoilers tore away; - Nor did we heed their insult--some distress } - No form or manner can make more or less, } - And this is of that kind--this misery of a press! } - ‘They say such things must be--perhaps they must; - But, sure, they need not fright us and disgust; 200 - They need not soul-less crews of ruffians send - At once the ties of humble love to rend. - A single day had Thomas stay’d on shore, - He might have wedded, and we ask’d no more; - And that stern man, who forced the lad away, - Might have attended, and have graced the day; - His pride and honour might have been at rest, - It is no stain to make a couple blest! - Blest!--no, alas! it was to ease the heart - Of one sore pang, and then to weep and part! 210 - But this he would not.--English seamen fight - For England’s gain and glory--it is right; - But will that public spirit be so strong, - Fill’d, as it must be, with their private wrong? - Forbid it, honour, one in all the fleet - Should hide in war, or from the foe retreat! - But is it just, that he who so defends - His country’s cause, should hide him from her friends? - Sure, if they must upon our children seize, - They might prevent such injuries as these; 220 - Might hours--nay, days--in many a case allow, - And soften all the griefs we suffer now. - Some laws, some orders might in part redress - The licensed insults of a British press, - That keeps the honest and the brave in awe, - Where might is right, and violence is law. - ‘Be not alarm’d, my child; there’s none regard - What you and I conceive so cruel-hard: - There is compassion, I believe; but still - One wants the power to help, and one the will, 230 - And so from war to war the wrongs remain, - While Reason pleads, and Misery sighs, in vain. - ‘Thus my poor Ruth was wretched and undone, - Nor had an husband for her only son, - Nor had he father; hope she did awhile, - And would not weep, although she could not smile; - Till news was brought us that the youth was slain, - And then, I think, she never smiled again; - Or if she did, it was but to express - A feeling far, indeed, from happiness! 240 - Something that her bewilder’d mind conceived, - When she inform’d us that she never grieved, - But was right merry, then her head was wild, - And grief had gain’d possession of my child. - Yet, though bewilder’d for a time, and prone - To ramble much and speak aloud, alone; - Yet did she all that duty ever ask’d - And more, her will self-govern’d and untask’d. - With meekness bearing all reproach, all joy - To her was lost; she wept upon her boy, 250 - Wish’d for his death, in fear that he might live - New sorrow to a burden’d heart to give. - ‘There was a teacher, where my husband went-- } - _Sent_, as he told the people--what he meant } - You cannot understand, but--he was sent. } - This man from meeting came, and strove to win - Her mind to peace by drawing off the sin, - Or what it was, that, working in her breast, - Robb’d it of comfort, confidence, and rest. - He came and reason’d, and she seem’d to feel 260 - The pains he took--her griefs began to heal; - She ever answer’d kindly when he spoke, - And always thank’d him for the pains he took; - So, after three long years, and all the while - Wrapt up in grief, she blest us with a smile, - And spoke in comfort; but she mix’d no more - With younger persons, as she did before. - ‘Still Ruth was pretty; in her person neat; - So thought the teacher, when they chanced to meet. - He was a weaver by his worldly trade, 270 - But powerful work in the assemblies made; - People came leagues to town to hear him sift - The holy text,--he had the grace and gift; - Widows and maidens flock’d to hear his voice; - Of either kind he might have had his choice;-- - But he had chosen--we had seen how shy - The girl was getting, my good man and I; - That when the weaver came, she kept with us, - Where he his points and doctrines might discuss; - But in our bit of garden, or the room 280 - We call our parlour, there he must not come. - She loved him not, and though she could attend - To his discourses as her guide and friend, - Yet now to these she gave a listless ear, - As if a friend she would no longer hear; - This might he take for woman’s art, and cried, - ‘Spouse of my heart, I must not be denied!’-- - Fearless he spoke, and I had hope to see - My girl a wife--but this was not to be. - ‘My husband, thinking of his worldly store, 290 - And not, frail man, enduring to be poor, - Seeing his friend would for his child provide - And hers, he grieved to have the man denied; - For Ruth, when press‘d, rejected him, and grew - To her old sorrow, as if that were new. - ‘Who shall support her?’ said her father, ‘how - Can I, infirm and weak as I am now? - And here a loving fool’----this gave her pain - Severe, indeed, but she would not complain; - Nor would consent, although the weaver grew 300 - More fond, and would the frighten’d girl pursue. - ‘O! much she begg’d him to forbear, to stand - Her soul’s kind friend, and not to ask her hand: - She could not love him.--‘Love me!’ he replied, - ‘The love you mean is love unsanctified, - An earthly, wicked, sensual, sinful kind, - A creature-love, the passion of the blind.’ - He did not court her, he would have her know, - For that poor love that will on beauty grow; - No! he would take her as the prophet took 310 - One of the harlots in the holy book; - And then he look’d so ugly and severe! - And yet so fond--she could not hide her fear. - This fondness grew her torment; she would fly - In woman’s terror, if he came but nigh; - Nor could I wonder he should odious prove, - So like a ghost that left a grave for love. - But still her father lent his cruel aid - To the man’s hope, and she was more afraid: - He said, no more she should his table share, 320 - But be the parish or the teacher’s care. - ‘Three days I give you: see that all be right } - On Monday-morning--this is Thursday-night-- } - Fulfil my wishes, girl! or else forsake my sight!’ } - ‘I see her now; and, she that was so meek - It was a chance that she had power to speak, - Now spoke in earnest--‘Father! I obey, - And will remember the appointed day!’ - ‘Then came the man: she talk’d with him apart, - And, I believe, laid open all her heart; 330 - But all in vain--she said to me, in tears, - ‘Mother! that man is not what he appears: - He talks of heaven, and let him, if he will, - But he has earthly purpose to fulfil; - Upon my knees I begg’d him to resign - The hand he asks--he said, ‘it shall be mine. - ‘What! did the holy men of Scripture deign - To hear a woman when she said ‘refrain?’ - Of whom they chose they took them wives, and these - Made it their study and their wish to please; 340 - The women then were faithful and afraid, - As Sarah Abraham, they their lords obey’d, - And so she styled him; ’tis in later days - Of foolish love that we our women praise, - Fall on the knee, and raise the suppliant hand, - And court the favour that we might command.’ - O! my dear mother, when this man has power, - How will he treat me--first may beasts devour! - Or death in every form that I could prove, - Except this selfish being’s hateful love.’ 350 - I gently blamed her, for I knew how hard - It is to force affection and regard. - Ah! my dear lad, I talk to you as one - Who knew the misery of an heart undone; - You know it not; but, dearest boy, when man, - Do not an ill because you find you can. - Where is the triumph? when such things men seek, - They only drive to wickedness the weak. - Weak was poor Ruth, and this good man so hard, - That to her weakness he had no regard; 360 - But we had two days peace; he came, and then - My daughter whisper’d, ‘Would there were no men! - None to admire or scorn us, none to vex - A simple, trusting, fond, believing sex; - Who truly love the worth that men profess, - And think too kindly for their happiness.’ - Poor Ruth! few heroines in the tragic page - Felt more than thee in thy contracted stage; - Fair, fond, and virtuous, they our pity move, - Impell’d by duty, agonized by love; 370 - But no Mandane, who in dread has knelt - On the bare boards, has greater terrors felt, - Nor been by warring passions more subdued - Than thou, by this man’s groveling wish pursued; - Doom’d to a parent’s judgment, all unjust, } - Doom’d the chance mercy of the world to trust, } - Or to wed grossness and conceal disgust. } - If Ruth was frail, she had a mind too nice - To wed with that which she beheld as vice; - To take a reptile, who, beneath a show 380 - Of peevish zeal, let carnal wishes grow; - Proud and yet mean, forbidding and yet full - Of eager appetites, devout and dull; - Waiting a legal right that he might seize - His own, and his impatient spirit ease; - Who would at once his pride and love indulge, - His temper humour, and his spite divulge. - This the poor victim saw--a second time, - Sighing, she said, ‘Shall I commit the crime, - And now untempted? Can the form or rite 390 - Make me a wife in my Creator’s sight? - Can I the words without a meaning say? - Can I pronounce love, honour, or obey? - And if I cannot, shall I dare to wed, - And go an harlot to a loathed bed? - Never, dear mother! my poor boy and I - Will at the mercy of a parish lie: - Reproved for wants that vices would remove, - Reproach’d for vice that I could never love, - Mix’d with a crew long wedded to disgrace, } 400 - A Vulgar, forward, equalizing race-- } - And am I doom’d to beg a dwelling in that place?’ } - Such was her reasoning: many times she weigh’d - The evils all, and was of each afraid; - She loath’d the common board, the vulgar seat, } - Where shame, and want, and vice, and sorrow meet, } - Where frailty finds allies, where guilt insures retreat. } - But peace again is fled; the teacher comes, - And new importance, haughtier air assumes. - No hapless victim of a tyrant’s love 410 - More keenly felt, or more resisting strove - Against her fate; she look’d on every side, - But there were none to help her, none to guide;-- - And he, the man who should have taught the soul, - Wish’d but the body in his base control. - She left her infant on the Sunday morn, - A creature doom’d to shame! in sorrow born; - A thing that languished, nor arrived at age - When the man’s thoughts with sin and pain engage-- - She came not home to share our humble meal, 420 - Her father thinking what his child would feel - From his hard sentence--still she came not home. - The night grew dark, and yet she was not come; - The east-wind roar’d, the sea return’d the sound, - And the rain fell as if the world were drown’d; - There were no lights without, and my good man, - To kindness frighten’d, with a groan began - To talk of Ruth, and pray; and then he took - The Bible down, and read the holy book; - For he had learning; and when that was done 430 - We sat in silence--whither could we run? - We said, and then rush’d frighten’d from the door, - For we could bear our own conceit no more; - We call’d on neighbours--there she had not been; - We met some wanderers--ours they had not seen; - We hurried o’er the beach, both north and south, - Then join’d, and wander’d to our haven’s mouth, - Where rush’d the falling waters wildly out: - I scarcely heard the good man’s fearful shout, - Who saw a something on the billow ride, 440 - And ‘Heaven have mercy on our sins!’ he cried, - ‘It is my child!’ and to the present hour - So he believes--and spirits have the power. - And she was gone! the waters wide and deep - Roll’d o’er her body as she lay asleep. - She heard no more the angry waves and wind, - She heard no more the threatening of mankind; - Wrapt in dark weeds, the refuse of the storm, - To the hard rock was borne her comely form! - But O! what storm was in that mind? what strife, 450 - That could compel her to lay down her life? - For she was seen within the sea to wade, - By one at distance, when she first had pray’d; - Then to a rock within the hither shoal - Softly and with a fearful step she stole; - Then, when she gain’d it, on the top she stood - A moment still--and dropt into the flood! - The man cried loudly, but he cried in vain-- - She heard not then--she never heard again! - She had--pray, Heav’n!--she had that world in sight, 460 - Where frailty mercy finds, and wrong has right; - But, sure, in this her portion such has been, - Well had it still remain’d a world unseen!’ - Thus far the dame: the passions will dispense - To such a wild and rapid eloquence-- - Will to the weakest mind their strength impart, - And give the tongue the language of the heart.” - - - - -TALES OF THE HALL. - -BOOK VI. - -_ADVENTURES OF RICHARD, CONCLUDED._ - - Richard relates his Illness and Retirement--A Village - Priest and his two Daughters--His peculiar - Studies--His Simplicity of Character--Arrival of - a third Daughter--Her Zeal in his Conversion-- - Their Friendship--How terminated--An happy - Day--Its Commencement and Progress--A Journey - along the Coast--Arrival as a Guest-- - Company--A Lover’s Jealousy--it increases--dies - away---An Evening Walk--Suspense--- - Apprehension--Resolution--Certainty. - -TALES OF THE HALL. - -BOOK VI. - -_ADVENTURES OF RICHARD, CONCLUDED._ - - “This then, dear Richard, was the way you took - To gain instruction--thine a curious book, - Containing much of both the false and true; - But thou hast read it, and with profit too. - “Come, then, my Brother, now thy tale complete-- - I know thy first embarking in the fleet, - Thy entrance in the army, and thy gain - Of plenteous laurels in the wars in Spain, - And what then follow’d; but I wish to know - When thou that heart hadst courage to bestow, 10 - When to declare it gain’d, and when to stand - Before the priest, and give the plighted hand; - So shall I boldness from thy frankness gain - To paint the frenzy that possessed my brain; - For rather there than in my heart I found - Was my disease; a poison, not a wound, - A madness, Richard--but, I pray thee, tell - Whom hast thou loved so dearly and so well?” - The younger man his gentle host obey’d, - For some respect, though not required, was paid; 20 - Perhaps with all that independent pride - Their different states would to the memory glide; - Yet was his manner unconstrain’d and free, - And nothing in it like servility. - Then he began:--“When first I reach’d the land, - I was so ill that death appear’d at hand; - And, though the fever left me, yet I grew - So weak ’twas judged that life would leave me too. - I sought a village-priest, my mother’s friend, - And I believed with him my days would end: 30 - The man was kind, intelligent, and mild, - Careless and shrewd, yet simple as the child; - For of the wisdom of the world his share - And mine were equal--neither had to spare; - Else--with his daughters, beautiful and poor-- - He would have kept a sailor from his door. - Two then were present, who adorn’d his home, - But ever speaking of a third to come; - Cheerful they were, not too reserved or free, - I loved them both, and never wish’d them three. 40 - “The vicar’s self, still further to describe, - Was of a simple, but a studious tribe; - He from the world was distant, not retired, - Nor of it much possess’d, nor much desired: - Grave in his purpose, cheerful in his eye, - And with a look of frank benignity. - He lost his wife when they together past - Years of calm love, that triumph’d to the last. - He much of nature, not of man, had seen, - Yet his remarks were often shrewd and keen; 50 - Taught not by books t’ approve or to condemn, - He gain’d but little that he knew from them; - He read with reverence and respect the few, - Whence he his rules and consolations drew; - But men and beasts, and all that lived or moved, - Were books to him; he studied them and loved. - “He knew the plants in mountain, wood, or mead; - He knew the worms that on the foliage feed; - Knew the small tribes that ’scape the careless eye, - The plant’s disease that breeds the embryo-fly; 60 - And the small creatures who on bark or bough - Enjoy their changes, changed we know not how; - But now th’ imperfect being scarcely moves, - And now takes wing and seeks the sky it loves. - “He had no system, and forbore to read - The learned labours of th’ immortal Swede; - But smiled to hear the creatures he had known - So long, were now in class and order shown, - Genus and species--‘is it meet,’ said he, - ‘This creature’s name should one so sounding be? 70 - Tis but a fly, though first-born of the spring-- - Bombylius majus, dost thou call the thing? - Majus, indeed! and yet, in fact, ’tis true, } - We all are majors, all are minors too, } - Except the first and last--th’ immensely distant two. } - And here again--what call the learned this? - Both Hippobosca and Hirundinis? - Methinks the creature should be proud to find - That he employs the talents of mankind; - And that his sovereign master shrewdly looks, 80 - Counts all his parts, and puts them in his books. - Well! go thy way, for I do feel it shame - To stay a being with so proud a name.’ - “Such were his daughters, such my quiet friend, - And pleasant was it thus my days to spend; - But when Matilda at her home I saw, - Whom I beheld with anxiousness and awe, - The ease and quiet that I found before - At once departed, and return’d no more. - No more their music soothed me as they play’d, 90 - But soon her words a strong impression made: - The sweet enthusiast, so I deem’d her, took - My mind, and fix’d it to her speech and look; - My soul, dear girl! she made her constant care, } - But never whisper’d to my heart ‘beware!’ } - In love no dangers rise till we are in the snare. } - Her father sometimes question’d of my creed, - And seem’d to think it might amendment need; - But great the difference when the pious maid - To the same errors her attention paid: 100 - Her sole design that I should think aright, - And my conversion her supreme delight. - Pure was her mind, and simple her intent, - Good all she sought, and kindness all she meant. - Next to religion friendship was our theme, - Related souls and their refined esteem. - We talk’d of scenes where this is real found, - And love subsists without a dart or wound; - But there intruded thoughts not all serene, - And wishes not so calm would intervene.” 110 - “Saw not her father?” - “Yes; but saw no more - Than he had seen without a fear before: - He had subsisted by the church and plough, - And saw no cause for apprehension now. - We, too, could live; he thought not passion wrong, - But only wonder’d we delay’d so long. - More had he wonder’d had he known esteem - Was all we mention’d, friendship was our theme.-- - Laugh, if you please, I must my tale pursue-- } - This sacred friendship thus in secret grew } 120 - An intellectual love, most tender, chaste, and true; } - Unstain’d, we said; nor knew we how it chanced - To gain some earthly soil as it advanced; - But yet my friend, and she alone, could prove - How much it differ’d from romantic love-- - But this and more I pass--No doubt, at length, - We could perceive the weakness of our strength. - “O! days remember’d well! remember’d all! - The bitter-sweet, the honey and the gall; - Those garden rambles in the silent night, 130 - Those trees so shady, and that moon so bright; - That thickset alley, by the arbour closed, - That woodbine seat where we at last reposed; - And then the hopes that came and then were gone, - Quick as the clouds beneath the moon passed on. - Now, in this instant, shall my love be shown, - I said--O! no, the happy time is flown! - “You smile; remember, I was weak and low, - And fear’d the passion as I felt it grow: - Will she, I said, to one so poor attend, 140 - Without a prospect, and without a friend? - I dared not ask her--till a rival came, - But hid the secret, slow-consuming flame. - I once had seen him; then familiar, free, - More than became a common guest to be; - And sure, I said, he has a look of pride - And inward joy--a lover satisfied. - Can you not, Brother, on adventures past - A thought, as on a lively prospect, cast? - On days of dear remembrance! days that seem, 150 - When past--nay, even when present--like a dream? - These white and blessed days, that softly shine - On few, nor oft on them--have they been thine?” - George answer’d, “Yes! dear Richard, through the years - Long past, a day so white and mark’d appears. - As in the storm that pours destruction round, - Is here and there a ship in safety found: - So in the storms of life some days appear - More blest and bright for the preceding fear. - These times of pleasure that in life arise, 160 - Like spots in deserts, that delight, surprise, - And to our wearied senses give the more, - For all the waste behind us and before-- - And thou, dear Richard, hast then had thy share - Of those enchanting times that baffle care?” - Yes, I have felt this life-refreshing gale - That bears us onward when our spirits fail; - That gives those spirits vigour and delight-- - I would describe it, could I do it right. - Such days have been--a day of days was one 170 - When, rising gaily with the rising sun, - I took my way to join a happy few, - Known not to me, but whom Matilda knew, - To whom she went a guest, and message sent: - Come thou to us;’ and as a guest I went. - There are two ways to Brandon--by the heath - Above the cliff, or on the sand beneath, - Where the small pebbles, wetted by the wave, - To the new day reflected lustre gave. - At first above the rocks I made my way, 180 - Delighted looking at the spacious bay, - And the large fleet that to the northward steer’d - Full sail, that glorious in my view appear’d; - For where does man evince his full control - O’er subject matter, where displays the soul - Its mighty energies with more effect - Than when her powers that moving mass direct? - Than when man guides the ship man’s art has made, - And makes the winds and waters yield him aid? - “Much as I long’d to see the maid I loved, 190 - Through scenes so glorious I at leisure moved; - For there are times when we do not obey - The master-passion--when we yet delay-- - When absence, soon to end, we yet prolong, - And dally with our wish although so strong. - “High were my joys, but they were sober too, - Nor reason spoil’d the pictures fancy drew; - I felt--rare feeling in a world like this-- - The sober certainty of waking bliss; - Add too the smaller aids to happy men, 200 - Convenient helps--these too were present then. - “But what are spirits? light indeed and gay } - They are, like winter flowers, nor last a day; } - Comes a rude icy wind--they feel, and fade away. } - “High beat my heart when to the house I came, - And when the ready servant gave my name; - But when I enter’d that pernicious room, - Gloomy it look’d, and painful was the gloom; - And jealous was the pain, and deep the sigh - Caused by this gloom, and pain, and jealousy: 210 - For there Matilda sat, and her beside - That rival soldier, with a soldier’s pride; - With self-approval in his laughing face, - His seem’d the leading spirit of the place. - She was all coldness--yet I thought a look, - But that corrected, tender welcome spoke: - It was as lightning which you think you see, - But doubt, and ask if lightning it could be. - “Confused and quick my introduction pass’d, - When I, a stranger and on strangers cast, 220 - Beheld the gallant man as he display’d - Uncheck’d attention to the guilty maid. - O! how it grieved me that she dared t’ excite - Those looks in him that show’d so much delight; - Egregious coxcomb! there--he smiled again, - As if he sought to aggravate my pain; - Still she attends--I must approach--and find, - Or make, a quarrel, to relieve my mind. - “In vain I try--politeness as a shield - The angry strokes of my contempt repell’d; 230 - Nor must I violate the social law - That keeps the rash and insolent in awe. - Once I observed, on hearing my replies, - The woman’s terror fix’d on me the eyes - That look’d entreaty; but the guideless rage - Of jealous minds no softness can assuage. - But, lo! they rise, and all prepare to take - The promised pleasure on the neighbouring lake. - “Good heaven! they whisper! Is it come to this? - Already!--then may I my doubt dismiss: 240 - Could he so soon a timid girl persuade? - What rapid progress has the coxcomb made! - And yet how cool her looks, and how demure! - The falling snow nor lily’s flower so pure-- - What can I do? I must the pair attend, - And watch this horrid business to its end. - “There, forth they go! He leads her to the shore-- - Nay, I must follow--I can bear no more: - What can the handsome gipsy have in view - In trifling thus, as she appears to do? 250 - I, who for months have labour’d to succeed, - Have only lived her vanity to feed. - “O! you will make me room--’tis very kind, - And meant for him--it tells him he must mind; - Must not be careless:--I can serve to draw - The soldier on, and keep the man in awe. - O! I did think she had a guileless heart, - Without deceit, capriciousness, or art; - And yet a stranger, with a coat of red, - Has, by an hour’s attention, turn’d her head. 260 - “Ah! how delicious was the morning-drive, - The soul awaken’d, and its hopes alive; - How dull this scene by trifling minds enjoy’d, - The heart in trouble and its hope destroy’d. - Well, now we land--And will he yet support - This part? What favour has he now to court? - Favour! O, no! He means to quit the fair; - How strange! how cruel! Will she not despair? - Well! take her hand--no further if you please, - I cannot suffer fooleries like these:-- 270 - How? ‘Love to Julia!’ to his wife?--O! dear } - And injured creature, how must I appear, } - Thus haughty in my looks, and in my words severe? } - Her love to Julia, to the school-day friend - To whom those letters she has lately penn’d! - Can she forgive? And now I think again, - The man was neither insolent nor vain; - Good humour chiefly would a stranger trace, - Were he impartial, in the air or face; - And I so splenetic the whole way long, 280 - And she so patient--it was very wrong. - The boat had landed in a shady scene; - The grove was in its glory, fresh and green; - The showers of late had swell’d the branch and bough, - And the sun’s fervour made them pleasant now. - Hard by, an oak arose in all its pride, - And threw its arms along the water’s side: - Its leafy limbs, that on the glassy lake - Stretch far, and all those dancing shadows make. - And now we walk--now smaller parties seek 290 - Or sun or shade as pleases--Shall I speak? - Shall I forgiveness ask, and then apply - For----O! that vile and intercepting cry! - Alas! what mighty ills can trifles make-- - An hat! the idiot’s--fallen in the lake! - What serious mischief can such idlers do? - I almost wish the head had fallen too. - No more they leave us, but will hover round, - As if amusement at our cost they found; - Vex’d and unhappy I indeed had been, 300 - Had I not something in my charmer seen - Like discontent, that, though corrected, dwelt - On that dear face, and told me what she felt. - “Now must we cross the lake, and as we cross’d - Was my whole soul in sweet emotion lost; - Clouds in white volumes roll’d beneath the moon, - Softening her light that on the waters shone: - This was such bliss! even then it seem’d relief - To veil the gladness in a show of grief. - We sigh’d as we conversed, and said, how deep 310 - This lake on which those broad dark shadows sleep; - There is between us and a watery grave - But a thin plank, and yet our fate we brave. - ‘What if it burst?’ ‘Matilda, then my care } - Would be for thee: all danger I would dare, } - And, should my efforts fail, thy fortune would I share.’ } - ‘The love of life,’ she said, ‘would powerful prove!’-- - ‘O! not so powerful as the strength of love.’-- - A look of kindness gave the grateful maid, - That had the real effort more than paid. 320 - “But here we land, and haply now may choose - Companions home--our way, too, we may lose: - In these drear, dark, inosculating lanes, - The very native of his doubt complains; - No wonder then that in such lonely ways - A stranger, heedless of the country, strays; - A stranger, too, whose many thoughts all meet - In one design, and none regard his feet. - “‘Is this the path?’ the cautious fair one cries; } - I answer, ‘Yes!’--‘We shall our friends surprise,’ } 330 - She added, sighing--I return the sighs. } - “‘Will they not wonder?’ ‘O! they would, indeed, - Could they the secrets of this bosom read, - These chilling doubts, these trembling hopes I feel! - The faint, fond hopes I can no more conceal-- - I love thee, dear Matilda!--to confess - The fact is dangerous, fatal to suppress. - “‘And now in terror I approach the home - Where I may wretched but not doubtful come; - Where I must be all ecstasy, or all-- 340 - O! what will you a wretch rejected call? - Not man, for I shall lose myself, and be - A creature lost to reason, losing thee. - “‘Speak, my Matilda! on the rack of fear - Suspend me not--I would my sentence hear, - Would learn my fate--Good Heaven! and what portend - These tears?--and fall they for thy wretched friend? - Or’----but I cease; I cannot paint the bliss, - From a confession soft and kind as this; - Nor where we walk’d, nor how our friends we met, } 350 - Or what their wonder--I am wondering yet; } - For he who nothing heeds has nothing to forget. } - “All thought, yet thinking nothing--all delight - In every thing, but nothing in my sight! - Nothing I mark or learn, but am possess’d } - Of joys I cannot paint, and I am bless’d } - In all that I conceive--whatever is, is best. } - Ready to aid all beings, I would go - The world around to succour human wo; - Yet am so largely happy, that it seems 360 - There are no woes, and sorrows are but dreams. - “There is a college joy, to scholars known, - When the first honours are proclaim’d their own; - There is ambition’s joy, when in their race - A man surpassing rivals gains his place; - There is a beauty’s joy, amid a crowd - To have that beauty her first fame allow’d; - And there’s the conqueror’s joy, when, dubious held - And long the fight, he sees the foe repell’d. - “But what are these, or what are other joys, 370 - That charm kings, conquerors, beauteous nymphs and boys, - Or greater yet, if greater yet be found, - To that delight when love’s dear hope is crown’d? - To the first beating of a lover’s heart, - When the loved maid endeavours to impart, - Frankly yet faintly, fondly yet in fear, - The kind confession that he holds so dear? - Now in the morn of our return how strange - Was this new feeling, this delicious change; - That sweet delirium, when I gazed in fear, 380 - That all would yet be lost and disappear. - “Such was the blessing that I sought for pain, - In some degree to be myself again; - And when we met a shepherd old and lame, - Cold and diseased, it seem’d my blood to tame; - And I was thankful for the moral sight, - That soberized the vast and wild delight.” - - - - -TALES OF THE HALL. - -BOOK VII. - -_THE ELDER BROTHER_. - - - Conversation--Story of the elder Brother--His - romantic Views and Habits--The Scene of his - Meditations--Their Nature--Interrupted by an - Adventure--The Consequences of it--A strong and - permanent Passion--Search of its Object--Long - ineffectual--How found--The first Interview--The - second--End of the Adventure--Retirement. - -TALES OF THE HALL. - -BOOK VII. - -_THE ELDER BROTHER._ - - “Thanks, my dear Richard; and, I pray thee, deign - To speak the truth--does all this love remain, - And all this joy? for views and flights sublime, - Ardent and tender, are subdued by time. - Speakst thou of her to whom thou madest thy vows, - Of my fair sister, of thy lawful spouse? - Or art thou talking some frail love about, - The rambling fit, before th’ abiding gout?” - Nay, spare me, Brother, an adorer spare: - Love and the gout! thou wouldst not these compare?“ 10 - “Yea, and correctly; teasing ere they come, - They then confine their victim to his home: - In both are previous feints and false attacks, - Both place the grieving patient on their racks: - They both are ours, with all they bring, for life, - ’Tis not in us t’ expel or gout or wife; - On man a kind of dignity they shed, - A sort of gloomy pomp about his bed; - Then, if he leaves them, go where’er he will, - They have a claim upon his body still; 20 - Nay, when they quit him, as they sometimes do, - What is there left t’ enjoy or to pursue?-- - But dost thou love this woman?” - “O! beyond - What I can tell thee of the true and fond: - Hath she not soothed me, sick, enrich’d me, poor, - And banish’d death and misery from my door? - Has she not cherish’d every moment’s bliss, - And made an Eden of a world like this? - When Care would strive with us his watch to keep, - Has she not sung the snarling fiend to sleep? 30 - And when Distress has look’d us in the face, - Has she not told him, ‘thou art not Disgrace?’” - “I must behold her, Richard; I must see - This patient spouse who sweetens misery-- - But didst thou need, and wouldst thou not apply?-- - Nay thou wert right--but then how wrong was I!” - “My indiscretion was----” - “No more repeat; - Would I were nothing worse than indiscreet;-- - But still there is a plea that I could bring, - Had I the courage to describe the thing.” 40 - “Then, thou too, Brother, couldst of weakness tell; - Thou, too, hast found the wishes that rebel - Against the sovereign reason; at some time - Thou hast been fond, heroic, and sublime; - Wrote verse, it may be, and for one dear maid - The sober purposes of life delay’d; - From year to year the fruitless chase pursued, - And hung enamour’d o’er the flying good. - Then, be thy weakness to a Brother shown, - And give him comfort who displays his own.” 50 - “Ungenerous youth! dost thou presuming ask - A man so grave his failings to unmask? - What if I tell thee of a waste of time, - That on my spirit presses as a crime, - Wilt thou despise me?--I, who, soaring, fell } - So late to rise--Hear then the tale I tell; } - Who tells what thou shalt hear, esteems his hearer well. } - - * * * * * - - “Yes, my dear Richard, thou shalt hear me own - Follies and frailties thou hast never known; - Thine was a frailty,--folly, if you please-- 60 - But mine a flight, a madness, a disease. - “Turn with me to my twentieth year, for then - The lover’s frenzy ruled the poet’s pen; - When virgin reams were soil’d with lays of love, - The flinty hearts of fancied nymphs to move: - Then was I pleased in lonely ways to tread, - And muse on tragic tales of lovers dead; - For all the merit I could then descry - In man or woman was for love to die. - “I mused on charmers chaste, who pledged their truth, 70 - And left no more the once-accepted youth; - Though he disloyal, lost, diseased, became, - The widow’d turtle’s was a deathless flame. - This faith, this feeling, gave my soul delight: - Truth in the lady, ardour in the knight. - “I built me castles wondrous rich and rare, - Few castle-builders could with me compare; - The hall, the palace, rose at my command, - And these I fill’d with objects great and grand. - Virtues sublime, that nowhere else would live, 80 - Glory and pomp, that I alone could give; - Trophies and thrones, by matchless valour gain’d, - Faith unreproved, and chastity unstain’d; - With all that soothes the sense and charms the soul, - Came at my call, and were in my control. - “And who was I? a slender youth and tall, - In manner awkward, and with fortune small; - With visage pale; my motions quick and slow, - That fall and rising in the spirits show; - For none could more by outward signs express 90 - What wise men lock within the mind’s recess. - Had I a mirror set before my view, - I might have seen what such a form could do; - Had I within the mirror truth beheld, - I should have such presuming thoughts repell’d: - But, awkward as I was, without the grace - That gives new beauty to a form or face, - Still I expected friends most true to prove, - And grateful, tender, warm, assiduous love. - “Assured of this, that love’s delicious bond 100 - Would hold me ever faithful, ever fond, - It seem’d but just that I in love should find - A kindred heart as constant and as kind. - Give me, I cried, a beauty: none on earth - Of higher rank or nobler in her birth; - Pride of her race, her father’s hope and care, - Yet meek as children of the cottage are; - Nursed in the court, and there by love pursued, - But fond of peace, and blest in solitude; - By rivals honour’d, and by beauties praised, 110 - Yet all unconscious of the envy raised. - Suppose her this, and from attendants freed, - To want my prowess in a time of need, - When safe and grateful she desires to show - She feels the debt that she delights to owe, - And loves the man who saved her in distress-- - So fancy will’d, nor would compound for less. - “This was my dream.--In some auspicious hour, - In some sweet solitude, in some green bower, - Whither my fate should lead me, there, unseen, 120 - I should behold my fancy’s gracious queen, - Singing sweet song! that I should hear awhile, - Then catch the transient glory of a smile; - Then at her feet with trembling hope should kneel, - Such as rapt saints and raptured lovers feel: - To watch the chaste unfoldings of her heart, - In joy to meet, in agony to part, - And then in tender song to soothe my grief, - And hail, in glorious rhyme, my _Lady of the Leaf_. - “To dream these dreams I chose a woody scene, 130 - My guardian-shade, the world and me between; - A green inclosure, where beside its bound - A thorny fence beset its beauties round, - Save where some creature’s force had made a way - For me to pass, and in my kingdom stray. - Here then I stray’d, then sat me down to call, - Just as I will’d, my shadowy subjects all! - Fruits of all minds conceived on every coast-- - Fay, witch, enchanter, devil, demon, ghost; - And thus with knights and nymphs, in halls and bowers, 140 - In war and love, I pass’d unnumber’d hours. - Gross and substantial beings all forgot, } - Ideal glories beam’d around the spot, } - And all that was, with me, of this poor world was not. } - “Yet in this world there was a single scene, - That I allow’d with mine to intervene. - This house, where never yet my feet had stray’d, - I with respect and timid awe survey’d; - With pleasing wonder I have oft-times stood, - To view these turrets rising o’er the wood; 150 - When fancy to the halls and chambers flew, - Large, solemn, silent, that I must not view; - The moat was then, and then o’er all the ground - Tall elms and ancient oaks stretch’d far around; - And where the soil forbad the nobler race, - Dwarf trees and humbler shrubs had found their place, - Forbidding man in their close hold to go, - Haw, gatter, holm, the service and the sloe; - With tangling weeds that at the bottom grew, - And climbers all above their feathery branches threw. 160 - Nor path of man or beast was there espied; } - But there the birds of darkness loved to hide, } - The loathed toad to lodge, and speckled snake to glide. } - “To me this hall, thus view’d in part, appear’d - A mansion vast. I wonder’d, and I fear’d. - There as I wander’d, fancy’s forming eye - Could gloomy cells and dungeons dark espy; - Winding through these, I caught th’ appalling sound } - Of troubled souls, that guilty minds confound, } - Where murder made its way, and mischief stalk’d around. } - Above the roof were raised the midnight storms, 171 - And the wild lights betray’d the shadowy forms. - “With all these flights and fancies, then so dear, - I reach’d the birth-day of my twentieth year; - And in the evening of a day in June - Was singing--as I sang--some heavenly tune. - My native tone, indeed, was harsh and hoarse, - But he who feels such powers can sing of course-- - Is there a good on earth, or gift divine, - That fancy cannot say, behold! ’tis mine? 180 - “So was I singing, when I saw descend - From this old seat a lady and her friend; - Downward they came with steady pace and slow, - Arm link’d in arm, to bless my world below. - I knew not yet if they escaped, or chose - Their own free way; if they had friends or foes-- - But near to my dominion drew the pair, - Link’d arm in arm, and walk’d, conversing, there. - “I saw them ere they came, myself unseen, - My lofty fence and thorny bound between-- 190 - And one alone, one matchless face I saw, - And, though at distance, felt delight and awe: - Fancy and truth adorn’d her; fancy gave - Much, but not all; truth help’d to make their slave. - For she was lovely, all was not the vain - Or sickly homage of a fever’d brain; - No! she had beauty, such as they admire - Whose hope is earthly, and whose love desire; - Imagination might her aid bestow, - But she had charms that only truth could show. 200 - “Their dress was such as well became the place, } - But one superior; hers the air, the grace, } - The condescending looks, that spoke the nobler race. } - Slender she was and tall; her fairy-feet - Bore her right onward to my shady seat; - And O! I sigh’d that she would nobly dare - To come, nor let her friend th’ adventure share; - But see how I in my dominion reign, - And never wish to view the world again. - “Thus was I musing, seeing with my eyes 210 - These objects, with my mind her fantasies, - And chiefly thinking--is this maid, divine - As she appears, to be this queen of mine? - Have I from henceforth beauty in my view, - Not airy all, but tangible and true? - Here then I fix, here bound my vagrant views, - And here devote my heart, my time, my muse. - “She saw not this, though ladies early trace - Their beauty’s power, the glories of their face; - Yet knew not this fair creature--could not know 220 - That new-born love that I too soon must show! - And I was musing--how shall I begin? - How make approach my unknown way to win, - And to that heart, as yet untouch’d, make known - The wound, the wish, the weakness of my own? - Such is my part, but----Mercy! what alarm? - Dare aught on earth that sovereign beauty harm? - Again--the shrieking charmers--how they rend - The gentle air----The shriekers lack a friend-- - They are my princess and th’ attendant maid, 230 - In so much danger, and so much afraid!-- - But whence the terror?--Let me haste and see } - What has befallen them who cannot flee-- } - Whence can the peril rise? What can that peril be? } - “It soon appear’d, that while this nymph divine - Moved on, there met her rude uncivil kine, - Who knew her not--the damsel was not there - Who kept them--all obedient--in her care; - Strangers they thus defied and held in scorn, - And stood in threat’ning posture, hoof and horn; 240 - While Susan--pail in hand--could stand the while - And prate with Daniel at a distant stile. - “As feeling prompted, to the place I ran, - Resolved to save the maids and show the man. - Was each a cow like that which challenged Guy, } - I had resolved t’ attack it, and defy } - In mortal combat! to repel or die! } - That was no time to parley--or to say, - I will protect you--fly in peace away! - Lo! yonder stile--but with an air of grace, 250 - As I supposed, I pointed to the place. - “The fair ones took me at my sign, and flew, - Each like a dove, and to the stile withdrew; - Where safe, at distance, and from terrors free, - They turn’d to view my beastly foes and me. - “I now had time my business to behold, - And did not like it--let the truth be told: - The cows, though cowards, yet in numbers strong, - Like other mobs, by might defended wrong; - In man’s own pathway fix’d, they seem’d disposed 260 - For hostile measure, and in order closed, - Then halted near me, as I judged, to treat, - Before we came to triumph or defeat. - “I was in doubt: ’twas sore disgrace, I knew, - To turn my back, and let the cows pursue; - And should I rashly mortal strife begin, - ’Twas all unknown who might the battle win; - And yet to wait, and neither fight nor fly, - Would mirth create--I could not that deny; - It look’d as if for safety I would treat, 270 - Nay, sue for peace--No! rather come defeat! - ‘Look to me, loveliest of thy sex! and give - One cheering glance, and not a cow shall live; - For lo! this iron bar, this strenuous arm, - And those dear eyes to aid me as a charm.’ - “Say, goddess! Victory! say, on man or cow - Meanest thou now to perch?--On neither now-- - For, as I ponder’d, on their way appear’d - The Amazonian milker of the herd; - These, at the wonted signals, made a stand, 280 - And woo’d the nymph of the relieving hand; - Nor heeded now the man, who felt relief - Of other kind, and not unmix’d with grief; - For now he neither should his courage prove, - Nor in his dying moments boast his love. - “My sovereign beauty with amazement saw-- - So she declared--the horrid things in awe; - Well pleased, she witness’d what respect was paid - By such brute natures--Every cow afraid, - And kept at distance by the powers of one, } 290 - Who had to her a dangerous service done, } - That prudence had declined, that valour’s self } - might shun. } - “So thought the maid, who now, beyond the stile, - Received her champion with a gracious smile; - Who now had leisure on those charms to dwell, - That he could never from his thought expel. - There are, I know, to whom a lover seems, - Praising his mistress, to relate his dreams; - But, Richard, looks like those, that angel-face - Could I no more in sister-angel trace; 300 - O! it was more than fancy! it was more } - Than in my darling views I saw before, } - When I my idol made, and my allegiance swore. } - “Henceforth ’twas bliss upon that face to dwell, - Till every trace became indelible; - I bless’d the cause of that alarm, her fright, - And all that gave me favour in her sight, - Who then was kind and grateful, till my mind, - Pleased and exulting, awe awhile resign’d. - For in the moment when she feels afraid, } 310 - How kindly speaks the condescending maid; } - She sees her danger near, she wants her lover’s aid. } - As fire electric, when discharged, will strike - All who receive it, and they feel alike, - So in the shock of danger and surprise - Our minds are struck, and mix, and sympathise. - “But danger dies, and distance comes between - My state and that of my all glorious queen; - Yet much was done--upon my mind a chain - Was strongly fix’d, and likely to remain; 320 - Listening, I grew enamour’d of the sound, - And felt to her my very being bound; - I bless’d the scene, nor felt a power to move, - Lost in the ecstacies of infant-love. - “She saw and smiled; the smile delight convey’d, - My love encouraged, and my act repaid. - In that same smile I read the charmer meant - To give her hero chaste encouragement; - It spoke, as plainly as a smile can speak, - ‘Seek whom you love, love freely whom you seek.’ 330 - “Thus, when the lovely witch had wrought her charm, - She took th’ attendant maiden by the arm, - And left me fondly gazing, till no more - I could the shade of that dear form explore; - Then to my secret haunt I turn’d again, - Fire in my heart, and fever in my brain; - That face of her for ever in my view, } - Whom I was henceforth fated to pursue, } - To hope I knew not what--small hope in what I knew. } - “O! my dear Richard, what a waste of time 340 - Gave I not thus to lunacy sublime; - What days, months, years, (to useful purpose lost) - Has not this dire infatuation cost? - To this fair vision I, a [bonded] slave, - Time, duty, credit, honour, comfort, gave; - Gave all--and waited for the glorious things - That hope expects, but fortune never brings. - Yet let me own, while I my fault reprove, - There is one blessing still affix’d to love-- - To love like mine--for, as my soul it drew 350 - From reason’s path, it shunn’d dishonour’s too; - It made my taste refined, my feelings nice, - And placed an angel in the way of vice. - “This angel now, whom I no longer view’d, - Far from this scene her destined way pursued; - No more that mansion held a form so fair, - She was away, and beauty was not there. - “Such, my dear Richard, was my early flame, - My youthful frenzy--give it either name; - It was the withering bane of many a year, 360 - That past away in causeless hope and fear-- - The hopes, the fears, that every dream could kill, - Or make alive, and lead my passive will. - “At length I learnt one name my angel bore, - And Rosabella I must now adore: - Yet knew but this--and not the favour’d place - That held the angel or th’ angelic race; - Nor where, admired, the sweet enchantress dwelt, - But I had lost her--that, indeed, I felt. - “Yet, would I say, she will at length be mine! 370 - Did ever hero hope or love resign? - Though men oppose, and fortune bids despair, } - She will in time her mischief well repair, } - And I, at last, shall wed this fairest of the fair! } - “My thrifty uncle, now return’d, began - To stir within me what remain’d of man; - My powerful frenzy painted to the life, - And ask’d me if I took a dream to wife? - Debate ensued, and, though not well content, - Upon a visit to his house I went. 380 - He, the most saving of mankind, had still - Some kindred feeling; he would guide my will, - And teach me wisdom--so affection wrought, - That he to save me from destruction sought: - To him destruction, the most awful curse - Of misery’s children, was--an empty purse! - He his own books approved, and thought the pen - An useful instrument for trading men; - But judged a quill was never to be slit - Except to make it for a merchant fit. 390 - He, when inform’d how men of taste could write, - Look’d on his ledger with supreme delight; - Then would he laugh, and, with insulting joy, - Tell me aloud, ‘that’s poetry, my boy; - These are your golden numbers--them repeat, } - The more you have, the more you’ll find them sweet-- } - Their numbers move all hearts--no matter for their feet. } - Sir, when a man composes in this style, - What is to him a critic’s frown or smile? - What is the puppy’s censure or applause 400 - To the good man who on his banker draws, - Buys an estate, and writes upon the grounds, - ‘Pay to A. B. an hundred thousand pounds?’ - Thus, my dear nephew, thus your talents prove; - Leave verse to poets, and the poor to love.’ - “Some months I suffered thus, compell’d to sit - And hear a wealthy kinsman aim at wit; - Yet there was something in his nature good, - And he had feeling for the tie of blood. - So, while I languish’d for my absent maid 410 - I some observance to my uncle paid.” - “Had you inquired?” said Richard. - “I had placed - Inquirers round, but nothing could be traced; - Of every reasoning creature at this Hall, - And tenant near it, I applied to all---- - ‘Tell me if she’--and I described her well-- - ‘Dwelt long a guest, or where retired to dwell?’ - But no! such lady they remember’d not-- - They saw that face, strange beings! and forgot. - Nor was inquiry all; but I pursued 420 - My soul’s first wish, with hope’s vast strength endued: - I cross’d the seas, I went where strangers go, - And gazed on crowds as one who dreads a foe, - Or seeks a friend; and, when I sought in vain, - Fled to fresh crowds, and hoped, and gazed again.” - “It was a strong possession”--“Strong and strange, - I felt the evil, yet desired not change. - Years now had flown, nor was the passion cured, - But hope had life, and so was life endured; - The mind’s disease, with all its strength, stole on, 430 - Till youth, and health, and all but love were gone. - And there were seasons, Richard, horrid hours - Of mental suffering! they o’erthrew my powers, - And made my mind unsteady--I have still, - At times, a feeling of that nameless ill, - That is not madness--I could always tell - My mind was wandering--knew it was not well; - Felt all my loss of time, the shameful waste - Of talents perish’d, and of parts disgraced. - But though my mind was sane, there was a void-- 440 - My understanding seem’d in part destroy’d; - I thought I was not of my species one, - But unconnected, injured and undone! - “While in this state, once more my uncle pray’d - That I would hear--I heard, and I obey’d; - For I was thankful that a being broke - On this my sadness, or an interest took - In my poor life--but, at his mansion, rest - Came with its halcyon stillness to my breast. - Slowly there enter’d in my mind concern 450 - For things about me--I would something learn, - And to my uncle listen; who, with joy, - Found that ev’n yet I could my powers employ, - Till I could feel new hopes my mind possess, - Of ease at least, if not of happiness; - Till, not contented, not in discontent, - As my good uncle counsell’d, on I went; - Conscious of youth’s great error--nay, the crime - Of manhood now--a dreary waste of time! - Conscious of that account which I must give 460 - How life had past with me--I strove to live. - “Had I, like others, my first hope attain’d, - I must, at least, a certainty have gain’d; - Had I, like others, lost the hope of youth, - Another hope had promised greater truth; - But I in baseless hopes, and groundless views, - Was fated time, and peace, and health to lose, - Impell’d to seek, for ever doom’d to fail, - Is----I distress you--let me end my tale. - “Something one day occurr’d about a bill 470 - That was not drawn with true mercantile skill, - And I was ask’d and authorized to go - To seek the firm of Clutterbuck and Co.; - Their hour was past--but when I urged the case, - There was a youth who named a second place; - Where, on occasions of important kind, - I might the man of occupation find - In his retirement, where he found repose - From the vexations that in business rose. - I found, though not with ease, this private seat 480 - Of soothing quiet, wisdom’s still retreat. - “The house was good, but not so pure and clean - As I had houses of retirement seen; - Yet men, I knew, of meditation deep, - Love not their maidens should their studies sweep; - His room I saw, and must acknowledge, there - Were not the signs of cleanliness or care: - A female servant, void of female grace, - Loose in attire, proceeded to the place; - She stared intrusive on my slender frame, 490 - And boldly ask’d my business and my name. - “I gave them both; and, left to be amused, - Well as I might, the parlour I perused. - The shutters half unclosed, the curtains fell } - Half down, and rested on the window-sill, } - And thus, confusedly, made the room half visible. } - Late as it was, the little parlour bore - Some tell-tale tokens of the night before; - There were strange sights and scents about the room, - Of food high-season’d, and of strong perfume; 500 - Two unmatch’d sofas ample rents display’d; - Carpet and curtains were alike decay’d; - A large old mirror, with once-gilded frame, - Reflected prints that I forbear to name, - Such as a youth might purchase--but, in truth, - Not a sedate or sober-minded youth; - The cinders yet were sleeping in the grate, } - Warm from the fire, continued large and late, } - As left by careless folk in their neglected state; } - The chairs in haste seem’d whirl’d about the room, } 510 - As when the sons of riot hurry home, } - And leave the troubled place to solitude and gloom. } - “All this, for I had ample time, I saw, - And prudence question’d--should we not withdraw? - For he who makes me thus on business wait, - Is not for business in a proper state; - But man there was not, was not he for whom - To this convenient lodging I was come; - No! but a lady’s voice was heard to call - On my attention--and she had it all; 520 - For lo! she enters, speaking ere in sight, - ‘Monsieur! I shall not want the chair to-night-- - Where shall I see him?--This dear hour atones - For all affection’s hopeless sighs and groans’-- - Then, turning to me--‘Art thou come at last? - A thousand welcomes--be forgot the past; - Forgotten all the grief that absence brings, - Fear that torments, and jealousy that stings-- - All that is cold, injurious, and unkind, - Be it for ever banish’d from the mind; 530 - And in that mind, and in that heart be now - The soft endearment, and the binding vow!’ - “She spoke--and o’er the practised features threw - The looks that reason charm, and strength subdue. - “Will you not ask, how I beheld that face, - Or read that mind, and read it in that place? - I have tried, Richard, oft-times, and in vain, - To trace my thoughts, and to review their train-- - If train there were--that meadow, grove, and stile; - The fright, th’ escape, her sweetness and her smile; 540 - Years since elapsed, and hope, from year to year, - To find her free--and then to find her here! - “But is it she?--O! yes; the rose is dead; - All beauty, fragrance, freshness, glory fled; - But yet ’tis she--the same and not the same-- - Who to my bower an heavenly being came; - Who waked my soul’s first thought of real bliss; - Whom long I sought; and now I find her--this. - “I cannot paint her--something I had seen - So pale and slim, and tawdry and unclean; 550 - With haggard looks, of vice and wo the prey, - Laughing in langour, miserably gay. - Her face, where face appear’d, was amply spread, } - By art’s coarse pencil, with ill-chosen red, } - The flower’s fictitious bloom, the blushing of the dead; } - But still the features were the same, and strange - My view of both--the sameness and the change, - That fix’d me gazing and my eye enchain’d, - Although so little of herself remain’d; - It is the creature whom I loved, and yet 560 - Is far unlike her--Would I could forget - The angel or her fall! the once adored - Or now despised! the worshipp’d or deplored! - “‘O! Rosabella!’ I prepared to say, } - ‘Whom I have loved,’ but prudence whisper’d nay, } - And folly grew ashamed--discretion had her day. } - She gave her hand; which, as I lightly press’d, - The cold but ardent grasp my soul oppress’d; - The ruin’d girl disturb’d me, and my eyes - Look’d, I conceive, both sorrow and surprise. 570 - “I spoke my business--‘He,’ she answer’d, ‘comes - And lodges here--he has the backward rooms-- - He now is absent, and I chanced to hear - Will not before to-morrow eve appear, - And may be longer absent----O! the night - When you preserved me in that horrid fright; - A thousand, thousand times, asleep, awake, - I thought of what you ventured for my sake-- - Now, have you thought--yet tell me so--deceive - Your Rosabella, willing to believe! 580 - O! there is something in love’s first-born pain - Sweeter than bliss--it never comes again-- - But has your heart been faithful?’--Here my pride, - To anger rising, her attempt defied-- - ‘My faith must childish in your sight appear, - Who have been faithful--to how many, dear?’ - “If words had fail’d, a look explain’d their style, - She could not blush assent, but she could smile. - Good heaven! I thought, have I rejected fame, - Credit, and wealth, for one who smiles at shame? 590 - “She saw me thoughtful--saw it, as I guess’d, - With some concern, though nothing she express’d. - “‘Come, my dear friend, discard that look of care, - All things were made to be, as all things are; - All to seek pleasure as the end design’d, - The only good in matter or in mind; - So was I taught by one, who gave me all - That my experienced heart can wisdom call. - “‘I saw thee young, love’s soft obedient slave, - And many a sigh to my young lover gave; 600 - And I had, spite of cowardice or cow, - Return’d thy passion, and exchanged my vow; - But, while I thought to bait the amorous hook, - One set for me my eager fancy took; - There was a crafty eye, that far could see, - And through my failings fascinated me: - Mine was a childish wish, to please my boy; - His a design, his wishes to enjoy. - O! we have both about the world been tost, - Thy gain I know not--I, they cry, am lost; 610 - So let the wise ones talk; they talk in vain, - And are mistaken both in loss and gain; - ’Tis gain to get whatever life affords, - ’Tis loss to spend our time in empty words. - “‘I was a girl, and thou a boy wert then, - Nor aught of women knew, nor I of men; - But I have traffick’d in the world, and thou, - Doubtless, canst boast of thy experience now; - Let us the knowledge we have gain’d produce, - And kindly turn it to our common use.’ 620 - “Thus spoke the siren in voluptuous style, } - While I stood gazing and perplex’d the while, } - Chain’d by that voice, confounded by that smile. } - And then she sang, and changed from grave to gay, - Till all reproach and anger died away. - - * * * * * - - “‘&My Damon was the first to wake - The gentle flame that cannot die; - My Damon is the last to take - The faithful bosom’s softest sigh: - The life between is nothing worth, 630 - O! cast it from thy thought away; - Think of the day that gave it birth, - And this its sweet returning day. - - “‘Buried be all that has been done, - Or say that naught is done amiss; - For who the dangerous path can shun - In such bewildering world as this? - But love can every fault forgive, - Or with a tender look reprove; - And now let naught in memory live, 640 - But that we meet, and that we love.’” - - * * * * * - - “And then she moved my pity; for she wept, - And told her miseries till resentment slept; - For when she saw she could not reason blind, - She pour’d her heart’s whole sorrows on my mind, - With features graven on my soul, with sighs - Seen but not heard, with soft imploring eyes, - And voice that needed not, but had the aid - Of powerful words to soften and persuade. - O! I repent me of the past; and sure 650 - Grief and repentance make the bosom pure; - Yet meet thee not with clean and single heart, - As on the day we met--and but to part! - Ere I had drank the cup that to my lip - Was held, and press’d till I was forced to sip. - I drank indeed, but never ceased to hate-- - It poison’d, but could not intoxicate. - T’ excuse my fall I plead not love’s excess, - But a weak orphan’s need and loneliness. - I had no parent upon earth--no door 660 - Was oped to me--young, innocent, and poor, - Vain, tender, and resentful--and my friend, - Jealous of one who must on her depend, - Making life misery--You could witness then - That I was precious in the eyes of men; - So, made by them a goddess, and denied - Respect and notice by the women’s pride; - Here scorn’d, there worshipp’d--will it strange appear, - Allured and driven, that I settled here? - Yet loved it not; and never have I pass’d 670 - One day, and wish’d another like the last. - There was a fallen angel, I have read, - For whom their tears the sister-angels shed, - Because, although she ventured to rebel, - She was not minded like a child of hell.-- - Such is my lot! and will it not be given - To grief like mine, that I may think of heaven; - Behold how there the glorious creatures shine, - And all my soul to grief and hope resign?’” - “I wonder’d, doubting--and, is this a fact, 680 - I thought, or part thou art disposed to act? - “‘Is it not written, He, who came to save - Sinners, the sins of deepest dye forgave; - That he his mercy to the sufferers dealt, - And pardon’d error when the ill was felt? - Yes! I would hope, there is an eye that reads - What is within, and sees the heart that bleeds---- - But who on earth will one so lost deplore, - And who will help that lost one to restore? - ‘Who will on trust the sigh of grief receive; 690 - And--all things warring with belief--believe?’ - “Soften’d, I said--‘Be mine the hand and heart, - If with your world you will consent to part.’ - She would--she tried----Alas! she did not know - How deeply rooted evil habits grow: - She felt the truth upon her spirits press, - But wanted ease, indulgence, show, excess, - Voluptuous banquets, pleasures--not refined, - But such as soothe to sleep th’ opposing mind-- - She look’d for idle vice, the time to kill, 700 - And subtle, strong apologies for ill; - And thus her yielding, unresisting soul - Sank, and let sin confuse her and control: - Pleasures that brought disgust yet brought relief, - And minds she hated help’d to war with grief.” - “Thus then she perish’d?”-- - “Nay--but thus she proved - Slave to the vices that she never loved; - But, while she thus her better thoughts opposed, - And woo’d the world, the world’s deceptions closed.-- - I had long lost her; but I sought in vain 710 - To banish pity--still she gave me pain; - Still I desired to aid her--to direct, - And wish’d the world, that won her, to reject; - Nor wish’d in vain--there came, at length, request - That I would see a wretch with grief oppress’d, - By guilt affrighted--and I went to trace - Once more the vice-worn features of that face, - That sin-wreck’d being! and I saw her laid - Where never worldly joy a visit paid, - That world receding fast! the world to come 720 - Conceal’d in terror, ignorance, and gloom, - Sins, sorrow, and neglect: with not a spark - Of vital hope--all horrible and dark-- - It frighten’d me!--I thought, and shall not I } - Thus feel? thus fear?--this danger can I fly? } - Do I so wisely live that I can calmly die? } - “The wants I saw I could supply with ease, - But there were wants of other kind than these; - Th’ awakening thought, the hope-inspiring view-- } - The doctrines awful, grand, alarming, true-- } 730 - Most painful to the soul, and yet most healing too. } - Still, I could something offer, and could send - For other aid--a more important friend, - Whose duty call’d him, and his love no less, - To help the grieving spirit in distress; - To save in that sad hour the drooping prey, - And from its victim drive despair away. - All decent comfort[s] round the sick were seen; - The female helpers quiet, sober, clean; - Her kind physician with a smile appear’d, 740 - And zealous love the pious friend endear’d; - While I, with mix’d sensations, could inquire, - ‘Hast thou one wish, one unfulfill’d desire? - Speak every thought, nor unindulged depart, - If I can make thee happier than thou art.’ - “Yes! there was yet a female friend, an old - And grieving nurse! to whom it should be told-- - I would tell--that she, her child, had fail’d, - And turn’d from truth! yet truth at length prevail’d. - “’Twas in that chamber, Richard, I began 750 - To think more deeply of the end of man: - Was it to jostle all his fellows by, - To run before them, and say, ‘here am I, - Fall down, and worship?’--Was it, life throughout, - With circumspection keen to hunt about, - As spaniels for their game, where might be found - Abundance more for coffers that abound? - Or was it life’s enjoyments to prefer, - Like this poor girl, and then to die like her? - No! He, who gave the faculties, design’d 760 - Another use for the immortal mind: - There is a state in which it will appear - With all the good and ill contracted here; - With gain and loss, improvement and defect; } - And then, my soul! what hast thou to expect } - For talents laid aside, life’s waste, and time’s neglect? } - “Still as I went came other change--the frame - And features wasted, and yet slowly came - The end; and so inaudible the breath, - And still the breathing, we exclaim’d--‘’tis death!’ 770 - But death it was not: when, indeed, she died, - I sat and his last gentle stroke espied: - When--as it came--or did my fancy trace - That lively, lovely flushing o’er the face, - Bringing back all that my young heart impress’d? - It came--and went!--She sigh’d, and was at rest! - “Adieu, I said, fair Frailty! dearly cost - The love I bore thee--time and treasure lost; - And I have suffer’d many years in vain; - Now let me something in my sorrows gain: 780 - Heaven would not all this wo for man intend - If man’s existence with his we should end; - Heaven would not pain, and grief, and anguish give, - If man was not by discipline to live; - And for that brighter, better world prepare, } - That souls with souls, when purified, shall share, } - Those stains all done away that must not enter there. } - “Home I return’d, with spirits in that state - Of vacant wo I strive not to relate; - Nor how, deprived of all her hope and strength, 790 - My soul turn’d feebly to the world at length. - I travell’d then till health again resumed - Its former seat--I must not say re-bloom’d; - And then I fill’d, not loth, that favourite place - That has enrich’d some seniors of our race; - Patient and dull I grew; my uncle’s praise - Was largely dealt me on my better days; - A love of money--other love at rest-- - Came creeping on, and settled in my breast; - The force of habit held me to the oar, 800 - Till I could relish what I scorn’d before: - I now could talk and scheme with _men of sense_, - Who deal for millions, and who sigh for pence; - And grew so like them, that I heard with joy - Old Blueskin said I was a pretty boy; - For I possess’d the caution, with the zeal, - That all true lovers of their interest feel. - Exalted praise! and to the creature due - Who loves that interest solely to pursue. - “But I was sick, and sickness brought disgust; 810 - My peace I could not to my profits trust: - Again some views of brighter kind appear’d, - My heart was humbled, and my mind was clear’d; - I felt those helps that souls diseased restore, - And that cold frenzy, avarice, raged no more. - From dreams of boundless wealth I then arose; } - This place, the scene of infant bliss, I chose; } - And here I find relief, and here I seek repose. } - “Yet much is lost, and not yet much is found, - But what remains, I would believe, is sound: 820 - That first wild passion, that last mean desire, - Are felt no more; but holier hopes require - A mind prepared and steady--my reform - Has fears like his, who, suffering in a storm, - Is on a rich but unknown country cast, - The future fearing, while he feels the past; - But whose more cheerful mind, with hope imbued, - Sees through receding clouds the rising good.” - - - - -TALES OF THE HALL. - -BOOK VIII. - -_THE SISTERS._ - - - Morning Walk and Conversation--Visit at a - Cottage--Characters of the Sisters--Lucy and - Jane--Their Lovers--Their Friend the Banker and his - Lady--Their Intimacy--Its Consequence--Different - Conduct of the Lovers--The Effect upon the - Sisters--Their present State--The Influence of - their Fortune upon the Minds of either. - -TALES OF THE HALL. - -BOOK VIII. - -_THE SISTERS._ - - The morning shone in cloudless beauty bright; - Richard his letters read with much delight; - George from his pillow rose in happy tone, - His bosom’s lord sat lightly on his throne. - They read the morning news--they saw the sky - Inviting call’d them, and the earth was dry. - “The day invites us, brother,” said the ’squire; - “Come, and I’ll show thee something to admire: - We still may beauty in our prospects trace; - If not, we have them in both mind and face. 10 - “’Tis but two miles--to let such women live - Unseen of him, what reason can I give? - Why should not Richard to the girls be known? - Would I have all their friendship for my own?-- - Brother, there dwell, yon northern hill below, - Two favourite maidens, whom ’tis good to know; - Young, but experienced; dwellers in a cot, - Where they sustain and dignify their lot; - The best good girls in all our world below-- - O! you must know them--Come! and you shall know. 20 - “But lo! the morning wastes--here, Jacob, stir-- - If Phœbe comes, do you attend to her; - And let not Mary get a chattering press - Of idle girls to hear of her distress. - Ask her to wait till my return--and hide - From her meek mind your plenty and your pride; - Nor vex a creature, humble, sad, and still, - By your coarse bounty, and your rude good-will.” - This said, the brothers hasten’d on their way, - With all the foretaste of a pleasant day. 30 - The morning purpose in the mind had fix’d - The leading thought, and that with others mix’d. - “How well it is,” said George, “when we possess - The strength that bears us up in our distress; - And need not the resources of our pride, - Our fall from greatness and our wants to hide; - But have the spirit and the wish to show, - We know our wants as well as others know. - ’Tis true, the rapid turns of fortune’s wheel - Make even the virtuous and the humble feel: 40 - They for a time must suffer, and but few - Can bear their sorrows and our pity too. - “Hence all these small expedients, day by day, - Are used to hide the evils they betray: - When, if our pity chances to be seen, } - The wounded pride retorts, with anger keen, } - And man’s insulted grief takes refuge in his spleen. } - “When Timon’s board contains a single dish, - Timon talks much of market-men and fish, - Forgetful servants, and th’ infernal cook, 50 - Who always spoil’d whate’er she undertook. - “But say it tries us from our height to fall, - Yet is not life itself a trial all? - And not a virtue in the bosom lives, - That gives such ready pay as patience gives; - That pure submission to the ruling mind, - Fix’d, but not forced; obedient, but not blind, - The will of heaven to make her own she tries, - Or makes her own to heaven a sacrifice. - “And is there aught on earth so rich or rare, 60 - Whose pleasures may with virtue’s pains compare? - This fruit of patience, this the pure delight - That ’tis a trial in her Judge’s sight; - Her part still striving duty to sustain, - Not spurning pleasure, not defying pain; - Never in triumph till her race be won, - And never fainting till her work be done.” - With thoughts like these they reach’d the village brook, - And saw a lady sitting with her book; - And so engaged she heard not, till the men 70 - Were at her side, nor was she frighten’d then; - But to her friend, the ’squire, his smile return’d, - Through which the latent sadness he discern’d. - The stranger-brother at the cottage door - Was now admitted, and was strange no more; - Then of an absent sister he was told, - Whom they were not at present to behold; - Something was said of nerves, and that disease, - Whose varying powers on mind and body seize, - Enfeebling both!--Here chose they to remain 80 - One hour in peace, and then return’d again. - “I know not why,” said Richard, “but I feel - The warmest pity on my bosom steal - For that dear maid! How well her looks express - For this world’s good a cherish’d hopelessness! - A resignation that is so entire, - It feels not now the stirrings of desire; - What now to her is all the world esteems? - She is awake, and cares not for its dreams; - But moves while yet on earth, as one above 90 - Its hopes and fears--it[s] loathing and its love. - “But shall I learn,” said he, “these sisters’ fate?”-- - And found his brother willing to relate. - - * * * * * - - “The girls were orphans early; yet I saw, - When young, their father--his profession law; - He left them but a competence, a store - That made his daughters neither rich nor poor; - Not rich, compared with some who dwelt around; - Not poor, for want they neither fear’d nor found; - Their guardian uncle was both kind and just, 100 - One whom a parent might in dying trust; - Who, in their youth, the trusted store improved, - And, when he ceased to guide them, fondly loved. - “These sister beauties were in fact the grace - Of yon small town,--it was their native place; - Like Saul’s famed daughters were the lovely twain, - As Micah, Lucy, and as Merab, Jane: - For this was tall, with free commanding air, - And that was mild, and delicate, and fair. - “Jane had an arch delusive smile, that charm’d 110 - And threaten’d too; alluring, it alarm’d; - The smile of Lucy her approval told, - Cheerful, not changing; neither kind nor cold. - “When children, Lucy love alone possess’d, - Jane was more punished and was more caress’d; - If told the childish wishes, one bespoke - A lamb, a bird, a garden, and a brook; - The other wish’d a joy unknown, a rout - Or crowded ball, and to be first led out. - “Lucy loved all that grew upon the ground, 120 - And loveliness in all things living found; - The gilded fly, the fern upon the wall, - Were nature’s works, and admirable all; - Pleased with indulgence of so cheap a kind, - Its cheapness never discomposed her mind. - “Jane had no liking for such things as these, - Things pleasing her must her superiors please; - The costly flower was precious in her eyes, - That skill can vary, or that money buys; - Her taste was good, but she was still afraid, 130 - Till fashion sanction’d the remarks she made. - “The sisters read, and Jane with some delight, - The satires keen that fear or rage excite, - That men in power attack, and ladies high, - And give broad hints that we may know them by. - She was amused when sent to haunted rooms, - Or some dark passage where the spirit comes - Of one once murder’d! then she laughing read, - And felt at once the folly and the dread. - As rustic girls to crafty gipsies fly, 140 - And trust the liar though they fear the lie, - Or as a patient, urged by grievous pains, - Will fee the daring quack whom he disdains: - So Jane was pleased to see the beckoning hand, - And trust the magic of the Ratcliffe-wand. - “In her religion--for her mind, though light, - Was not disposed our better views to slight-- - Her favourite authors were a solemn kind, - Who fill with dark mysterious thoughts the mind; - And who with such conceits her fancy plied, 150 - Became her friend, philosopher, and guide. - “She made the Progress of the Pilgrim one - To build a thousand pleasant views upon; - All that connects us with a world above - She loved to fancy, and she long’d to prove; - Well would the poet please her, who could lead - Her fancy forth, yet keep untouch’d her creed. - “Led by an early custom, Lucy spied, - When she awaked, the Bible at her side; - That, ere she ventured on a world of care, } 160 - She might for trials, joys or pains prepare, } - For every dart a shield, a guard for every snare. } - “She read not much of high heroic deeds, - Where man the measure of man’s power exceeds; - But gave to luckless love and fate severe - Her tenderest pity and her softest tear. - “She mix’d not faith with fable, but she trod - Right onward, cautious in the ways of God; - Nor did she dare to launch on seas unknown, } - In search of truths by some adventurers shown, } 170 - But her own compass used, and kept a course her own. } - “The maidens both their loyalty declared, - And in the glory of their country shared; - But Jane that glory felt with proud delight, - When England’s foes were vanquish’d in the fight; - While Lucy’s feelings for the brave who bled - Put all such glorious triumphs from her head. - “They both were frugal; Lucy from the fear - Of wasting that which want esteems so dear, - But finds so scarce, her sister from the pain 180 - That springs from want, when treated with disdain. - “Jane borrow’d maxims from a doubting school, - And took for truth the test of ridicule; - Lucy saw no such virtue in a jest: - Truth was with her of ridicule a test. - “They loved each other with the warmth of youth, - With ardour, candour, tenderness, and truth; - And, though their pleasures were not just the same, - Yet both were pleased whenever one became; - Nay, each would rather in the act rejoice, 190 - That was th’ adopted, not the native choice. - “Each had a friend, and friends to minds so fond - And good are soon united in the bond; - Each had a lover; but it seem’d that fate - Decreed that these should not approximate. - Now Lucy’s lover was a prudent swain, - And thought, in all things, what would be his gain; - The younger sister first engaged his view, - But with her beauty he her spirit knew; - Her face he much admired, ‘but, put the case,’ 200 - Said he, ‘I marry, what is then a face? - At first it pleases to have drawn the lot; - He then forgets it, but his wife does not; - Jane too,’ he judged, ‘would be reserved and nice, - And many lovers had enhanced her price.’ - “Thus thinking much, but hiding what he thought, - The prudent lover Lucy’s favour sought, - And he succeeded--she was free from art, - And his appear’d a gentle guileless heart; - Such she respected; true, her sister found 210 - His placid face too ruddy and too round, - Too cold and inexpressive; such a face - Where you could nothing mark’d or manly trace. - “But Lucy found him to his mother kind, - And saw the Christian meekness of his mind; - His voice was soft, his temper mild and sweet, - His mind was easy, and his person neat. - “Jane said he wanted courage; Lucy drew - No ill from that, though she believed it too; - ‘It is religious, Jane, be not severe;’ 220 - ‘Well, Lucy, then it is religious fear,’ - Nor could the sister, great as was her love, - A man so lifeless and so cool approve. - “Jane had a lover, whom a lady’s pride - Might wish to see attending at her side, - Young, handsome, sprightly, and with good address, - Not mark’d for folly, error or excess; - Yet not entirely from their censure free - Who judge our failings with severity. - The very care he took to keep his name 230 - Stainless, with some was evidence of shame. - “Jane heard of this, and she replied, ‘Enough; - Prove but the facts, and I resist not proof; - Nor is my heart so easy as to love - The man my judgment bids me not approve.’ - But yet that heart a secret joy confess’d, - To find no slander on the youth would rest; - His was, in fact, such conduct, that a maid - Might think of marriage, and be not afraid; - And she was pleased to find a spirit high, 240 - Free from all fear, that spurn’d hypocrisy. - “‘What fears my sister?’ said the partial fair, - For Lucy fear’d,--‘Why tell me to beware? - No smooth deceitful varnish can I find; } - His is a spirit generous, free, and kind; } - And all his flaws are seen, all floating in his mind. } - A little boldness in his speech. What then? - It is the failing of these generous men. - A little vanity, but--O! my dear, - They all would show it, were they all sincere. 250 - “‘But come, agreed; we’ll lend each other eyes - To see our favourites, when they wear disguise; - And all those errors that will then be shown - Uninfluenced by the workings of our own.’ - “Thus lived the sisters, far from power removed, - And far from need, both loving and beloved. - Thus grew, as myrtles grow; I grieve at heart - That I have pain and sorrow to impart. - But so it is, the sweetest herbs that grow - In the lone vale, where sweetest waters flow, 260 - Ere drops the blossom, or appears the fruit, - Feel the vile grub, and perish at the root; - And, in a quick and premature decay, - Breathe the pure fragrance of their life away. - “A town was near, in which the buildings all - Were large, but one pre-eminently tall-- - An huge high house. Without there was an air - Of lavish cost; no littleness was there; - But room for servants, horses, whiskies, gigs, - And walls for pines and peaches, grapes and figs; 270 - Bright on the sloping glass the sunbeams shone, - And brought the summer of all climates on. - “Here wealth its prowess to the eye display’d, - And here advanced the seasons, there delay’d; - Bid the due heat each growing sweet refine, } - Made the sun’s light with grosser fire combine, } - And to the Tropic gave the vigour of the Line. } - “Yet, in the master of this wealth behold } - A light vain coxcomb taken from his gold, } - Whose busy brain was weak, whose boasting } - heart was cold. } 280 - O! how he talk’d to that believing town, - That he would give it riches and renown; - Cause a canal where treasures were to swim, - And they should owe their opulence to him! - In fact, of riches he insured a crop, - So they would give him but a seed to drop. - As used the alchymist his boasts to make, - ‘I give you millions for the mite I take:’ - The mite they never could again behold, - The millions all were Eldorado gold. 290 - “By this professing man the country round - Was search’d to see where money could be found. - “The thriven farmer, who had lived to spare, - Became an object of especial care; - He took the frugal tradesman by the hand, - And wish’d him joy of what he might command; - And the industrious servant, who had laid - His saving by, it was his joy to aid; - Large talk, and hints of some productive plan - Half named, won all his hearers to a man; 300 - Uncertain projects drew them wondering on, - And avarice listen’d till distrust was gone. - But when to these dear girls he found his way, - All easy, artless, innocent were they; - When he compelled his foolish wife to be - At once so great, so humble, and so free; - Whom others sought, nor always with success! - But they were both her pride and happiness; - And she esteem’d them, but attended still - To the vile purpose of her husband’s will; 310 - And, when she fix’d his snares about their mind, - Respected those whom she essay’d to blind; - Nay with esteem she some compassion gave - To the fair victims whom she would not save. - “The Banker’s wealth and kindness were her themes, - His generous plans, his patriotic schemes; - What he had done for some, a favourite few, - What for his favourites still he meant to do; - Not that he always listen’d--which was hard-- - To her, when speaking of her great regard 320 - For certain friends--‘but you, as I may say, - Are his own choice--I am not jealous--nay!’ - “Then came the man himself, and came with speed, - As just from business of importance freed; - Or just escaping, came with looks of fire, - As if he’d just attain’d his full desire; - As if Prosperity and he for life - Were wed, and he was showing off his wife; - Pleased to display his influence, and to prove - Himself the object of her partial love; 330 - Perhaps with this was join’d the latent fear, - The time would come when he should not be dear. - “Jane laugh’d at all their visits and parade, - And call’d it friendship in an hot-house made; - A style of friendship suited to his taste, - Brought on, and ripen’d, like his grapes, in haste; - She saw the wants that wealth in vain would hide, - And all the tricks and littleness of pride; - On all the wealth would creep the vulgar stain, - And grandeur strove to look itself in vain. 340 - “Lucy perceived--but she replied, ‘why heed - Such small defects?--they’re very kind indeed!’ - And kind they were, and ready to produce - Their easy friendship, ever fit for use, - Friendship that enters into all affairs, - And daily wants, and daily gets, repairs. - “Hence at the cottage of the sisters stood - The Banker’s steed--he was so very good; - Oft through the roads, in weather foul or fair, - Their friend’s gay carriage bore the gentle pair; 350 - His grapes and nectarines woo’d the virgins’ hand; - His books and roses were at their command, - And costly flowers--he took upon him shame - That he could purchase what he could not name. - “Lucy was vex’d to have such favours shown, - And they returning nothing of their own; - Jane smiled, and begg’d her sister to believe,-- - ‘We give at least as much as we receive.’ - “Alas! and more; they gave their ears and eyes, - His splendor oft-times took them by surprise; 360 - And, if in Jane appear’d a meaning smile, - She gazed, admired, and paid respect the while; - Would she had rested there! Deluded maid, - She saw not yet the fatal price she paid; - Saw not that wealth, though join’d with folly, grew - In her regard; she smiled, but listened too; - Nay would be grateful, she would trust her all, } - Her funded source--to him a matter small; } - Taken for their sole use, and ever at their call, } - To be improved--he knew not how indeed, 370 - But he had methods--and they must succeed. - “This was so good, that Jane, in very pride, - To spare him trouble, for a while denied; - And Lucy’s prudence, though it was alarm’d, - Was by the splendor of the Banker charm’d; - What was her paltry thousand pounds to him, - Who would expend five thousand on a whim? - And then the portion of his wife was known; - But not that she reserved it for her own. - “Lucy her lover trusted with the fact, 380 - And frankly ask’d, ‘if he approved the act?’ - ‘It promised well,’ he said; ‘he could not tell - How it might end, but sure it promised well; - He had himself a trifle in the Bank, - And should be sore uneasy if it sank.’ - “Jane from her lover had no wish to hide - Her deed; but was withheld by maiden pride; - To talk so early--as if one were sure - Of being his; she could not that endure. - “But when the sisters were apart, and when 390 - They freely spoke of their affairs and men, - They thought with pleasure of the sum improved, - And so presented to the men they loved. - “Things now proceeded in a quiet train; - No cause appear’d to murmur or complain; - The monied man, his ever-smiling dame, - And their young darlings, in their carriage came. - Jane’s sprightly lover smiled their pomp to see, - And ate their grapes, with gratitude and glee; - But with the freedom there was nothing mean, 400 - Humble, or forward, in his freedom seen; - His was the frankness of a mind that shows - It knows itself, nor fears for what it knows. - But Lucy’s ever humble friend was awed - By the profusion he could not applaud; - He seem’d indeed reluctant to partake - Of the collation that he could not make; - And this was pleasant in the maiden’s view,-- - Was modesty--was moderation too; - Though Jane esteem’d it meanness; and she saw 410 - Fear in that prudence, avarice in that awe. - “But both the lovers now to town are gone; - By business one is call’d, by duty one; - While rumour rises--whether false or true - The ladies knew not--it was known to few-- - But fear there was, and on their guardian-friend - They for advice and comfort would depend - When rose the day; meantime from Belmont-place - Came vile report, predicting quick disgrace. - “’Twas told--the servants, who had met to thank 420 - Their lord for placing money in his Bank-- - Their kind free master, who such wages gave, - And then increased whatever they could save-- - They who had heard they should their savings lose, - Were weeping, swearing, drinking at the news; - And still the more they drank, the more they wept, - And swore, and rail’d, and threatened, till they slept. - “The morning truth confirm’d the evening dread; - The Bank was broken, and the Banker fled; - But left a promise that his friends should have, 430 - To the last shilling--what his fortunes gave. - “The evil tidings reach’d the sister-pair, - And one like Sorrow look’d, and one Despair; - They from each other turn’d th’ afflicting look, - And loth and late the painful silence broke. - “‘The odious villain!’ Jane in wrath began; - In pity Lucy, ‘the unhappy man! - When time and reason our affliction heal, - How will the author of our sufferings feel?’ - “‘And let him feel, my sister--let the woes 440 - That he creates be bane to his repose! - Let them be felt in his expiring hour, - When death brings all his dread, and sin its power: - Then let the busy foe of mortals state - The pangs he caused, his own to aggravate! - “‘Wretch! when our life was glad, our prospers gay, - With savage hand to sweep them all away! - And he must know it--know when he beguiled - His easy victims--how the villain smiled! - “‘Oh! my dear Lucy, could I see him crave 450 - The food denied, a beggar and a slave, - To stony hearts he should with tears apply, - And Pity’s self withhold the struggling sigh; - Or, if relenting weakness should extend - Th’ extorted scrap that justice would not lend, - Let it be poison’d by the curses deep - Of every wretch whom he compels to weep!’ - “‘Nay, my sweet sister, if you thought such pain - Were his, your pity would awake again; - Your generous heart the wretch’s grief would feel, 460 - And you would soothe the pangs you could not heal.’ - “‘Oh! never, never,--I would still contrive - To keep the slave whom I abhorr’d alive; - His tortured mind with horrid fears to fill, - Disturb his reason, and misguide his will; - Heap coals of fire, to lie like melted lead, - Heavy and hot, on his accursed head; - Not coals that mercy kindles hearts to melt, - But he should feel them hot as fires are felt, - Corroding ever, and through life the same, 470 - Strong self-contempt and ever-burning shame; - Let him so wretched live that he may fly - To desperate thoughts, and be resolved to die-- - And then let death such frightful visions give, - That he may dread th’ attempt, and beg to live!’ - So spake th’ indignant maid, when Lucy sigh’d, - And, waiting softer times, no more replied. - “Barlow was then in town; and there he thought - Of bliss to come, and bargains to be bought; - And was returning homeward--when he found 480 - The Bank was broken, and his venture drown’d. - “‘Ah! foolish maid,’ he cried, ‘and what wilt thou - Say for thy friends and their excesses now? - All now is brought completely to an end; - What can the spendthrift now afford to spend? - Had my advice been--true, I gave consent, - The thing was purposed; what could I prevent? - “‘Who will her idle taste for flowers supply-- } - Who send her grapes and peaches? let her try;-- } - There’s none will give her, and she cannot buy. } 490 - “‘Yet would she not be grateful if she knew - What to my faith and generous love was due? - Daily to see the man who took her hand, - When she had not a sixpence at command; - Could I be sure that such a quiet mind - Would be for ever grateful, mild, and kind, - I might comply--but how will Bloomer act, - ‘When he becomes acquainted with the fact? - The loss to him is trifling--but the fall - From independence, that to her is all; 500 - Now, should he marry, ‘twill be shame to me - To hold myself from my engagement free; - And should he not, it will be double grace - To stand alone in such a trying case. - “‘Come then, my Lucy, to thy faithful heart - And humble love I will my views impart; - Will see the grateful tear that softly steals - Down the fair face and all thy joy reveals; - And when I say it is a blow severe, - Then will I add--restrain, my love, the tear, 510 - And take this heart, so faithful and so fond, - Still bound to thine; and fear not for that bond.’ - “He said; and went, with purpose he believed - Of generous nature--so is man deceived. - “Lucy determined that her lover’s eye - Should not distress nor supplication spy; - That in her manner he should nothing find - To indicate the weakness of her mind. - He saw no eye that wept, no frame that shook; - No fond appeal was made by word or look; 520 - Kindness there was, but join’d with some restraint; - And traces of the late event were faint. - “He look’d for grief deploring, but perceives - No outward token that she longer grieves; - He had expected for his efforts praise, - For he resolved the drooping mind to raise; - She would, he judged, be humble, and afraid - That he might blame her rashness and upbraid; - And lo! he finds her in a quiet state, - Her spirit easy and her air sedate: 530 - As if her loss was not a cause for pain, - As if assured that he would make it gain,-- - “Silent awhile, he told the morning news, - And what he judged they might expect to lose; - He thought himself, whatever some might boast, - The composition would be small at most, - Some shabby matter; she would see no more - The tithe of what she held in hand before. - “How did her sister feel? and did she think - Bloomer was honest, and would never shrink? 540 - ‘But why that smile; is loss like yours so light - That it can aught like merriment excite? - Well, he is rich, we know, and can afford - To please his fancy, and to keep his word; - To him ’tis nothing; had he now a fear, - He must the meanest of his sex appear; - But the true honour, as I judge the case, - Is both to feel the evil and embrace.’ - “Here Barlow stopp’d, a little vex’d to see - No fear or hope, no dread or ecstasy. 550 - Calmly she spoke--‘Your prospects, sir, and mine - Are not the same--their union I decline; - Could I believe the hand for which you strove - Had yet its value, did you truly love, - I had with thanks addressed you, and replied, - Wait till your feelings and my own subside, - Watch your affections, and, if still they live, - What pride denies, my gratitude shall give.’ - Ev’n then, in yielding, I had first believed - That I conferr’d the favour, not received. 560 - “‘You I release--nay, hear me--I impart - Joy to your soul--I judge not of your heart. - Think’st thou a being, to whom God has lent - A feeling mind, will have her bosom rent - By man’s reproaches? Sorrow will be thine, - For all thy pity prompts thee to resign! - Think’st thou that meekness’ self would condescend - To take the husband when she scorns the friend? - Forgive the frankness, and rejoice for life - Thou art not burden’d with so poor a wife. 570 - “‘Go! and be happy--tell, for the applause - Of hearts like thine, we parted, and the cause - Give, as it pleases.’ With a foolish look - That a dull school-boy fixes on his book - That he resigns, with mingled shame and joy, - So Barlow went, confounded like the boy. - “Jane, while she wept to think her sister’s pain - Was thus increased, felt infinite disdain; - Bound as she was, and wedded by the ties - Of love and hope, that care and craft despise, 580 - She could but wonder that a man, whose taste - And zeal for money had a Jew disgraced, - Should love her sister; yet with this surprise, - She felt a little exultation rise; - Hers was a lover who had always held - This man as base, by generous scorn impell’d, - And yet, as one, of whom for Lucy’s sake - He would a civil distant notice take. - “Lucy, with sadden’d heart and temper mild, - Bow’d to correction, like an humbled child, 590 - Who feels the parent’s kindness, and who knows - Such the correction he who loves bestows. - “Attending always, but attending more - When sorrow ask’d his presence than before, - Tender and ardent, with the kindest air - Came Bloomer, fortune’s error to repair; - Words sweetly soothing spoke the happy youth, - With all the tender earnestness of truth. - “There was no doubt of his intention now-- - He will his purpose with his love avow; 600 - So judged the maid; yet, waiting, she admired - His still delaying what he most desired; - Till, from her spirit’s agitation free, - She might determine when the day should be. - With such facility the partial mind - Can the best motives for its favourites find. - “Of this he spake not, but he stayed beyond - His usual hour--attentive still and fond;-- - The hand yet firmer to the hand he prest, - And the eye rested where it loved to rest; 610 - Then took he certain freedoms, yet so small - That it was prudish so the things to call; - Things they were not--‘Describe’--that none can do, - They had been nothing had they not been new; - It was the manner and the look; a maid, - Afraid of such, is foolishly afraid; - For what could she explain? The piercing eye - Of jealous fear could nought amiss descry. - “But some concern now rose; the youth would seek - Jane by herself, and then would nothing speak, 610 - Before not spoken; there was still delay, - Vexatious, wearying, wasting, day by day. - “‘He does not surely trifle!’ Heaven forbid! - She now should doubly scorn him if he did. - “Ah! more than this, unlucky girl! is thine; - Thou must the fondest views of life resign; - And in the very time resign them too, - When they were brightening on the eager view. - I will be brief,--nor have I heart to dwell - On crimes they almost share who paint them well. 630 - “There was a moment’s softness, and it seem’d - Discretion slept, or so the lover dream’d; - And, watching long the now confiding maid, - He thought her guardless, and grew less afraid; - Led to the theme that he had shunn’d before, - He used a language he must use no more-- - For if it answers, there is no more need, - And no more trial, should it not succeed. - “Then made he that attempt, in which to fail - Is shameful,--still more shameful to prevail. 640 - “Then was there lightning in that eye that shed - Its beams upon him--and his frenzy fled; - Abject and trembling at her feet he laid, - Despised and scorn’d by the indignant maid, - Whose spirits in their agitation rose, - Him, and her own weak pity, to oppose: - As liquid silver in the tube mounts high, - Then shakes and settles as the storm goes by. - “While yet the lover stay’d, the maid was strong, - But when he fled, she droop’d and felt the wrong-- 650 - Felt the alarming chill, the enfeebled breath, - Closed the quick eye, and sank in transient death. - So Lucy found her; and then first that breast - Knew anger’s power, and own’d the stranger guest. - “‘And is this love? Ungenerous! Has he too - Been mean and abject? Is no being true?’ - For Lucy judged that, like her prudent swain, - Bloomer had talk’d of what a man might gain; - She did not think a man on earth was found, - A wounded bosom, while it bleeds, to wound; 660 - Thought not that mortal could be so unjust, - As to deprive affliction of its trust; - Thought not a lover could the hope enjoy, - That must the peace he should promote destroy; - Thought not, in fact, that in the world were those, - Who to their tenderest friends are worse than foes, - Who win the heart, deprive it of its care, - Then plant remorse and desolation there. - “Ah! cruel he, who can that heart deprive - Of all that keeps its energy alive; 670 - Can see consign’d to shame the trusting fair, - And turn confiding fondness to despair; - To watch that time--a name is not assign’d - For crime so odious, nor shall learning find. - Now, from that day has Lucy laid aside - Her proper cares, to be her sister’s guide, - Guard, and protector. At their uncle’s farm - They past the period of their first alarm, - But soon retired, nor was he grieved to learn - They made their own affairs their own concern. 680 - “I knew not then their worth; and, had I known, - Could not the kindness of a friend have shown; - For men they dreaded; they a dwelling sought, - And there the children of the village taught; - There, firm and patient, Lucy still depends - Upon her efforts, not upon her friends; - She is with persevering strength endued, - And can be cheerful--for she will be good. - “Jane too will strive the daily tasks to share, - That so employment may contend with care; 690 - Not power, but will, she shows, and looks about } - On her small people, who come in and out; } - And seems of what they need, or she can do, in doubt. } - “There sits the chubby crew on seats around, - While she, all rueful at the sight and sound, - Shrinks from the free approaches of the tribe, - Whom she attempts, lamenting to describe; - With stains the idlers gather’d in their way, } - The simple stains of mud, and mould, and clay, } - And compound of the streets, of what we dare not say; } - With hair uncomb’d, grimed face, and piteous look, 701 - Each heavy student takes the odious book, - And on the lady casts a glance of fear, - Who draws the garment close as he comes near; - She then for Lucy’s mild forbearance tries, - And from her pupils turns her brilliant eyes, - Making new efforts, and with some success, - To pay attention while the students guess; - Who to the gentler mistress fain would glide, - And dread their station at the lady’s side. 710 - “Such is their fate;--there is a friendly few - Whom they receive, and there is chance for you; - Their school, and something gather’d from the wreck - Of that bad Bank, keeps poverty in check; - And true respect, and high regard, are theirs, - The children’s profit, and the [parents’] prayers. - “With Lucy rests the one peculiar care, } - That few must see, and none with her may share; } - More dear than hope can be, more sweet than pleasures are. } - For her sad sister needs the care of love 720 - That will direct her, that will not reprove, - But waits to warn: for Jane will walk alone, - Will sing in low and melancholy tone; - Will read or write, or to her plants will run, - To shun her friends,--alas! her thoughts to shun. - “It is not love alone disturbs her rest, - But loss of all that ever hope possess’d: - Friends ever kind, life’s lively pleasures, ease, } - When her enjoyments could no longer please; } - These were her comforts then! she has no more of these. } - “Wrapt in such thoughts, she feels her mind astray, 731 - But knows ’tis true that she has lost her way; - For Lucy’s smile will check the sudden flight, - And one kind look let in the wonted light. - “Fits of long silence she endures, then talks - Too much--with too much ardour, as she walks; - But still the shrubs that she admires dispense - Their balmy freshness to the hurried sense, - And she will watch their progress, and attend - Her flowering favourites as a guardian friend; 740 - To sun or shade she will her sweets remove, - ‘And here,’ she says, ‘I may with safety love.’ - “But there are hours when on that bosom steals - A rising terror--then indeed she feels-- - Feels how she loved the promised good, and how - She feels the failure of the promise now. - “‘That other spoiler did as robbers do, - Made poor our state, but not disgraceful too, - This spoiler shames me, and I look within - To find some cause that drew him on to sin; 750 - He and the wretch who could thy worth forsake - Are the fork’d adder and the loathsome snake; - Thy snake could slip in villain-fear away, - But had no fang to fasten on his prey. - “‘Oh! my dear Lucy, I had thought to live - With all the comforts easy fortunes give; - A wife caressing, and caress’d--a friend, - Whom he would guide, advise, consult, defend, - And make his equal;--then I fondly thought - Among superior creatures to be brought; 760 - And, while with them, delighted to behold - No eye averted, and no bosom cold;-- - Then at my home, a mother, to embrace } - My----Oh! my sister, it was surely base! } - I might forget the wrong; I cannot the disgrace. } - “‘Oh! when I saw that triumph in his eyes, - I felt my spirits with his own arise; - I call’d it joy, and said, the generous youth - Laughs at my loss--no trial for his truth, - It is a trifle he can not lament, 770 - A sum but equal to his annual rent; - And yet that loss, the cause of every ill, - Has made me poor, and him--’ - “‘O! poorer still; - Poorer, my Jane, and far below thee now: - The injurer he,--the injured sufferer thou; - And shall such loss afflict thee?’-- - “‘Lose I not - With him what fortune could in life allot? - Lose I not hope, life’s cordial, and the views } - Of an aspiring spirit?--O! I lose } - Whate’er the happy feel, whatever the sanguine choose. } - “‘Would I could lose this bitter sense of wrong, 781 - And sleep in peace--but it will not be long! - And here is something, Lucy, in my brain-- - I know not what--it is a cure for pain; - But is not death!--no beckoning hand I see, - No voice I hear that comes alone to me; - It is not death, but change; I am not now - As I was once--nor can I tell you how; - Nor is it madness--ask, and you shall find - In my replies the soundness of my mind: 790 - O! I should be a trouble all day long; - A very torment, if my head were wrong.’ - “At times there is upon her features seen - What moves suspicion--she is too serene. - Such is the motion of a drunken man, - Who steps sedately, just to show he can. - Absent at times she will her mother call, - And cry at mid-day, ‘then good night to all.’ - But most she thinks there will some good ensue - From something done, or what she is to do; 800 - Long wrapt in silence, she will then assume - An air of business, and shake off her gloom; - Then cry exulting, ‘O! it must succeed, - There are ten thousand readers--all men read: - There are my writings--you shall never spend - Your precious moments to so poor an end; - Our [peasants’] children may be taught by those - Who have no powers such wonders to compose; - So let me call them--what the world allows, - Surely a poet without shame avows; 810 - Come, let us count what numbers we believe - Will buy our work--Ah! sister, do you grieve? - You weep; there’s something I have said amiss, - And vex’d my sister--What a world is this! - And how I wander!--Where has fancy run? - Is there no poem? Have I nothing done? - Forgive me, Lucy, I had fix’d my eye, - And so my mind, on works that cannot die, - _Marmion_ and _Lara_ yonder in the case; - And so I put me in the poet’s place. 820 - “‘Still, be not frighten’d; it is but a dream; - I am not lost, bewilder’d though I seem; - I will obey thee--but suppress thy fear-- - I am at ease--then why that silly tear?’ - “Jane, as these melancholy fits invade - The busy fancy, seeks the deepest shade; - She walks in ceaseless hurry, till her mind - Will short repose in verse and music find; - Then her own songs to some soft tune she sings, - And laughs, and calls them melancholy things; 830 - Not frenzy all; in some her erring Muse - Will sad, afflicting, tender strains infuse; - Sometimes on death she will her lines compose, - Or give her serious page of solemn prose; - And still those favourite plants her fancy please, - And give to care and anguish rest and ease. - - * * * * * - - “‘Let me not have this gloomy view, - About my room, around my bed; - But morning roses, wet with dew, - To cool my burning brows instead. 840 - As flow’rs that once in Eden grew, - Let them their fragrant spirits shed, - And every day the sweets renew, - Till I, a fading flower, am dead. - - “‘Oh! let the herbs I loved to rear - Give to my sense their perfumed breath; - Let them be placed about my bier, - And grace the gloomy house of death. - I’ll have my grave beneath an hill, - Where, only Lucy’s self shall know; 850 - - “‘Where runs the pure pellucid rill - Upon its gravelly bed below; - There violets on the borders blow, - And insects their soft light display, - Till, as the morning sunbeams glow, - The cold phosphoric fires decay. - - “‘That is the grave to Lucy shown, - The soil a pure and silver sand; - The green cold moss above it grown, - Unpluck’d of all but maiden hand: 860 - In virgin earth, till then unturn’d, - There let my maiden form be laid, - Nor let my changed clay be spurn’d, - Nor for new guest that bed be made. - - “‘There will the lark, the lamb, in sport, - In air, on earth, securely play, - And Lucy to my grave resort, - As innocent, but not so gay. - I will not have the churchyard ground, - With bones all black and ugly grown, 870 - To press my shivering body round, - Or on my wasted limbs be thrown. - - “‘With ribs and skulls I will not sleep, - In clammy beds of cold blue clay, - Through which the ringed earth-worms creep, - And on the shrouded bosom prey; - I will not have the bell proclaim - When those sad marriage rites begin, - And boys, without regard or shame, - Press the vile mouldering masses in. 880 - - “‘Say not, it is beneath my care; - I cannot these cold truths allow; - These thoughts may not afflict me there, - But, O! they vex and tease me now, - Raise not a turf, nor set a stone, - That man a maiden’s grave may trace; - But thou, my Lucy, come alone, - And let affection find the place. - - “‘O! take me from a world I hate-- - Men cruel, selfish, sensual, cold; 890 - And, in some pure and blessed state, - Let me my sister minds behold: - From gross and sordid views refined, - Our heaven of spotless love to share, - For only generous souls design’d, - And not a man to meet us there.’” - - - - -TALES OF THE HALL. - -BOOK IX. - -_THE PRECEPTOR HUSBAND._ - - - The Morning Ride--Conversation--Character of one - whom they meet- His early Habits and Mode of - Thinking--The Wife whom he would choose--The one - chosen--His Attempts to teach--In History--In - Botany--The Lady’s Proficiency--His Complaint--Her - Defence and Triumph---The Trial ends. - -TALES OF THE HALL. - -BOOK IX. - -THE PRECEPTOR HUSBAND. - - “Whom pass’d we musing near the woodman’s shed, - Whose horse not only carried him but led, - That his grave rider might have slept the time, - Or solved a problem, or composed a rhyme? - A more abstracted man within my view - Has never come--He recollected you.” - “Yes--he was thoughtful--thinks the whole day long, - Deeply, and chiefly that he once thought wrong; - He thought a strong and kindred mind to trace - In the soft outlines of a trifler’s face. 10 - “Poor Finch! I knew him when at school--a boy - Who might be said his labours to enjoy; - So young a pedant that he always took - The girl to dance who most admired her book; - And would the butler and the cook surprise, - Who listen’d to his Latin exercise; - The matron’s self the praise of Finch avow’d, - He was so serious, and he read so loud. - But yet, with all this folly and conceit, - The lines he wrote were elegant and neat; 20 - And early promise in his mind appear’d - Of noble efforts when by reason clear’d. - “And when he spoke of wives, the boy would say, - His should be skill’d in Greek and algebra; - For who would talk with one to whom his themes, - And favourite studies, were no more than dreams? - For this, though courteous, gentle, and humane, - The boys contemn’d and hated him as vain, - Stiff and pedantic.--” - “Did the man enjoy, - In after life, the visions of the boy?”-- 30 - “At least they form’d his wishes, they were yet - The favourite views on which his mind was set: - He quaintly said, how happy must they prove, - Who, loving, study--or who, studious, love; - Who feel their minds with sciences imbued, - And their warm hearts by beauty’s force subdued. - “His widow’d mother, who the world had seen, - And better judge of either sex had been, - Told him that, just as their affairs were placed, - In some respects he must forego his taste; 40 - That every beauty, both of form and mind, - Must be by him, if unendow’d, resign’d; - That wealth was wanted for their joint affairs; - His sisters’ portions, and the Hall’s repairs. - “The son assented--and the wife must bring - Wealth, learning, beauty, ere he gave the ring; - But as these merits, when they all unite, - Are not produced in every soil and site; - And when produced are not the certain gain - Of him who would these precious things obtain; 50 - Our patient student waited many a year, - Nor saw this phœnix in his walks appear. - But, as views mended in the joint estate, - He would a something in his points abate; - Give him but learning, beauty, temper, sense, - And he would then the happy state commence. - The mother sigh’d, but she at last agreed; - And now the son was likely to succeed. - Wealth is substantial good the fates allot: - We know we have it, or we have it not; 60 - But all those graces which men highly rate - Their minds themselves imagine and create; - And therefore Finch was in a way to find - A good that much depended on his mind. - “He look’d around, observing, till he saw - Augusta Dallas! when he felt an awe - Of so much beauty and commanding grace, - That well became the honours of her race. - “This lady never boasted of the trash - That commerce brings: she never spoke of cash; 70 - The gentle blood that ran in every vein - At all such notions blush’d in pure disdain.-- - “Wealth once relinquished, there was all beside, - As Finch believed, that could adorn a bride; - He could not gaze upon the form and air, - Without concluding all was right and fair; - Her mild but dignified reserve supprest } - All free inquiry--but his mind could rest, } - Assured that all was well, and in that view was blest. } - “And now he asked, ’am I the happy man 80 - Who can deserve her? is there one who can?’ - His mother told him, he possess’d the land - That puts a man in heart to ask a hand; - All who possess it feel they bear about - A spell that puts a speedy end to doubt; - But Finch was modest--‘May it then be thought } - That she can so be gained?’--‘She may be sought.--’ } - ‘Can love with land be won?’--‘By land is beauty bought. } - Do not, dear Charles, with indignation glow, - All value that the want of which they know; 90 - Nor do I blame her; none that worth denies; - But can my son be sure of what he buys? - Beauty she has, but with it can you find - The inquiring spirit, or the studious mind? - This wilt thou need who art to thinking prone, - And minds unpair’d had better think alone; - Then how unhappy will the husband be, - Whose sole associate spoils his company?‘ - This he would try; but all such trials prove - Too mighty for a man disposed to love; 100 - He whom the magic of a face enchains - But little knowledge of the mind obtains; - If by his tender heart the man is led, - He finds how erring is the soundest head. - “The lady saw his purpose; she could meet - The man‘s inquiry, and his aim defeat; - She had a studied flattery in her look; - She could be seen retiring with a book; - She by attending to his speech could prove - That she for learning had a fervent love-- 110 - Yet love alone, she modestly declared; - She must be spared inquiry, and was spared; - Of her poor studies she was not so weak - As in his presence, or at all, to speak; - But to discourse with him who, all agreed, - [Had] read so much, would be absurd indeed; - Ask what he might, she was so much a dunce - She would confess her ignorance at once. - “All this the man believed not--doom‘d to grieve - For this belief, he this would not believe: 120 - No! he was quite in raptures to discern - That love, and that avidity to learn. - ’Could she have found,‘ she said, ’a friend, a guide, - Like him, to study had been all her pride; - But, doom‘d so long to frivolous employ, - How could she those superior views enjoy? - The day might come--a happy day for her, - When she might choose the ways she should prefer.‘ - “Then too he learn‘d in accidental way, } - How much she grieved to lose the given day } 130 - In dissipation wild, in visitation gay. } - Happy, most happy, must the woman prove - Who proudly looks on him she vows to love; - Who can her humble acquisitions state, - That he will praise, at least will tolerate. - “Still the cool mother sundry doubts express‘d,-- - ’How! is Augusta graver than the rest? - There are three others: they are not inclined - To feed with precious food the empty mind; - Whence this strong relish?‘ ’It is very strong,‘ 140 - Replied the son, ’and has possess‘d her long; - Increased indeed, I may presume, by views-- - We may suppose--ah! may she not refuse?‘ - ’Fear not!--I see the question must be tried, - Nay, is determined--let us to your bride.‘ - “They soon were wedded, and the nymph appear‘d - By all her promised excellence endear‘d: - Her words were kind, were cautious, and were few, - And she was proud--of what her husband knew. - “Weeks pass‘d away, some five or six, before, 150 - Bless‘d in the present, Finch could think of more. - A month was next upon a journey spent, - When to the Lakes the fond companions went; - Then the gay town received them, and, at last, - Home to their mansion, man and wife, they pass‘d. - “And now in quiet way they came to live - On what their fortune, love, and hopes would give. - The honied moon had nought but silver rays, - And shone benignly on their early days; - The second moon a light less vivid shed, 160 - And now the silver rays were tinged with lead. - They now began to look beyond the Hall, - And think what friends would make a morning-call; - Their former appetites return‘d, and now - Both could their wishes and their tastes avow; - ‘Twas now no longer ’just what you approve,‘ - But ’let the wild fowl be to-day, my love.‘ - In fact the senses, drawn aside by force - Of a strong passion, sought their usual course. - “Now to her music would the wife repair, 170 - To which he listen‘d once with eager air; - When there was so much harmony within, - That any note was sure its way to win; - But now the sweet melodious tones were sent - From the struck chords, and none cared where they went. - Full well we know that many a favourite air - That charms a party fails to charm a pair; - And as Augusta play‘d she look‘d around, - To see if one was dying at the sound; - But all were gone--a husband, wrapt in gloom, 180 - Stalk‘d careless, listless, up and down the room. - “And now ‘tis time to fill that ductile mind - With knowledge, from his stores of various kind. - His mother, in a peevish mood, had ask‘d, - ’Does your Augusta profit? is she task’d?’ - “‘Madam!’ he cried, offended with her looks, - ‘There’s time for all things, and not all for books: - Just on one’s marriage to sit down, and prate - On points of learning, is a thing I hate.--’ - “‘’Tis right, my son, and it appears to me, 190 - If deep your hatred, you must well agree.’ - “Finch was too angry for a man so wise, - And said, ‘Insinuation I despise! - Nor do I wish to have a mind so full - Of learned trash--it makes a woman dull: - Let it suffice, that I in her discern - An aptitude, and a desire to learn.--’ - “The matron smiled, but she observed a frown - On her son’s brow, and calmly sat her down, - Leaving the truth to Time, who solves our doubt, 200 - By bringing his all-glorious daughter out-- - Truth! for whose beauty all their love profess; - And yet how many think it ugliness! - “‘Augusta, love,’ said Finch, ‘while you engage - In that embroidery, let me read a page. - Suppose it Hume’s; indeed he takes a side, - But still an author need not be our guide; - And, as he writes with elegance and ease, - Do now attend--he will be sure to please. - Here at the Revolution we commence-- 210 - We date, you know, our liberties from hence.’ - “‘Yes, sure,’ Augusta answer’d with a smile; - ‘Our teacher always talk’d about his style, - When we about the Revolution read, - And how the martyrs to the flames were led: - The good old bishops, I forget their names, - But they were all committed to the flames; - Maidens and widows, bachelors and wives-- - The very babes and sucklings lost their lives. - I read it all in Guthrie at the school-- 220 - What now!--I know you took me for a fool; - There were five bishops taken from the stall, - And twenty widows, I remember all; - And by this token, that our teacher tried - ’To cry for pity, till she howl’d and cried.’ - “‘True, true, my love, but you mistake the thing-- - The Revolution that made William king - Is what I mean; the Reformation you, - In Edward and Elizabeth.’--‘’Tis true; - But the nice reading is the love between 230 - The brave Lord Essex and the cruel queen; - And how he sent the ring to save his head, - Which the false lady kept till he was dead. - “‘That is all true; now read, and I’ll attend; - But was not she a most deceitful friend? - It was a monstrous, vile, and treacherous thing - To show no pity, and to keep the ring; - But the queen shook her in her dying bed, - And ‘God forgive you!’ was the word she said; - ‘Not I for certain;’--Come, I will attend; 240 - So read the Revolutions to an end.’ - “Finch, with a timid, strange, inquiring look, - Softly and slowly laid aside the book - With sigh inaudible----‘Come, never heed,’ - Said he, recovering; ‘now I cannot read.’ - “They walk’d at leisure through their wood and groves, - In fields and lanes, and talk’d of plants and loves, - And loves of plants.--Said Finch, ‘Augusta, dear, - You said you loved to learn,--were you sincere? - Do you remember that you told me once 250 - How much you grieved, and said you were a dunce? - That is, you wanted information. Say, - What would you learn? I will direct your way.’ - “‘Goodness!’ said she, ‘what meanings you discern - In a few words! I said I wish’d to learn, - And so I think I did; and you replied, - The wish was good: what would you now beside? - Did not you say it show’d an ardent mind; - And pray what more do you expect to find?’ - “‘My dear Augusta, could you wish indeed 260 - For any knowledge, and not then proceed? - That is not wishing----’ - “‘Mercy! how you tease! - You knew I said it with a view to please; - A compliment to you, and quite enough-- - You would not kill me with that puzzling stuff! - Sure I might say I wish’d; but that is still - Far from a promise: it is not,--‘I will.’ - “‘But come, to show you that I will not hide - My proper talents, you shall be my guide; - And lady Boothby, when we meet, shall cry, 270 - She’s quite as good a botanist as I.’ - “‘Right, my Augusta;’ and, in manner grave, - Finch his first lecture on the science gave; - An introduction--and he said, ‘My dear, - Your thought was happy--let us persevere; - And let no trifling cause our work retard.’ - Agreed the lady, but she fear’d it hard. - “Now o’er the grounds they rambled many a mile; - He show’d the flowers, the stamina, the style, - Calix and corol, pericarp and fruit, 280 - And all the plant produces, branch and root; - Of these he treated, every varying shape, - Till poor Augusta panted to escape. - He show’d the various foliage plants produce, - Lunate and lyrate, runcinate, retuse; - Long were the learned words, and urged with force, - Panduriform, pinnatifid, premorse, - Latent, and patent, papulous, and plane-- - ‘Oh!’ said the pupil, ‘it will turn my brain.’ - ‘Fear not,’ he answer’d, and again, intent 290 - To fill that mind, o’er class and order went; - And stopping, ‘Now,’ said he, ‘my love, attend.’ - ‘I do,’ said she, ‘but when will be an end?’-- - ‘When we have made some progress--now begin, - Which is the stigma, show me with the pin; - Come, I have told you, dearest, let me see, - Times very many--tell it now to me.’ - “‘Stigma! I know,--the things with yellow heads, - That shed the dust, and grow upon the threads; - You call them wives and husbands, but you know 300 - That is a joke--here, look, and I will show - All I remember.’--Doleful was the look - Of the preceptor, when he shut his book-- - The system brought to aid them in their view, - And now with sighs return’d--‘It will not do.’ - “A handsome face first led him to suppose, - There must be talent with such looks as those; - The want of talent taught him now to find - The face less handsome with so poor a mind; - And half the beauty faded, when he found 310 - His cherish’d hopes were falling to the ground. - “Finch lost his spirit; but e’en then he sought - For fancied powers: she might in time be taught. - Sure there was nothing in that mind to fear; - The favourite study did not yet appear.-- - “Once he express’d a doubt if she could look - For five succeeding minutes on a book; - When, with awaken’d spirit, she replied, - ‘He was mistaken, and she would be tried.’ - “With this delighted, he new hopes express’d-- 320 - ‘How do I know?--She may abide the test? - Men I have known, and famous in their day, - Who were by chance directed in their way. - I have been hasty.--Well, Augusta, well, - What is your favourite reading? prithee tell; - Our different tastes may different books require-- - Yours I may not peruse, and yet admire: - Do then explain.’--‘Good Heaven!’ said she, in haste, - ‘How do I hate these lectures upon taste!’ - “‘I lecture not, my love; but do declare-- 330 - You read, you say--what your attainments are.’ - “‘Oh! you believe,’ said she, ‘that other things - Are read as well as histories of kings, - And loves of plants, with all that simple stuff - About their sex, of which I know enough. - Well, if I must, I will my studies name, - Blame if you please--I know you love to blame. - When all our childish books were set apart, - The first I read was ‘Wanderings of the Heart:’ - It was a story, where was done a deed 340 - So dreadful, that alone I fear’d to read. - “‘The next was ‘The Confessions of a Nun--’ - ’Twas quite a shame such evil should be done; - ‘Nun of--no matter for the creature’s name, - For there are girls no nunnery can tame. - Then was the story of the Haunted Hall, - Where the huge picture nodded from the wall - When the old lord look’d up with trembling dread, - And I grew pale, and shudder’d as I read. - Then came the tales of Winters, Summers, Springs, 350 - At Bath and Brighton,--they were pretty things! - No ghosts nor spectres there were heard or seen, - But all was love and flight to Gretna-green. - Perhaps your greater learning may despise - What others like, and there your wisdom lies-- - Well! do not frown--I read the tender tales - Of lonely cots, retreats in silent vales - For maids forsaken, and suspected wives, - Against whose peace some foe his plot contrives; - With all the hidden schemes that none can clear 360 - Till the last book, and then the ghosts appear. - “‘I read all plays that on the boards succeed, } - And all the works that ladies ever read-- } - Shakspeare, and all the rest--I did, indeed,-- } - Ay! you may stare; but, sir, believe it true - That we can read and learn, as well as you. - “‘I would not boast,--but I could act a scene - In any play, before I was fifteen. - “‘Nor is this all; for many are the times - I read in Pope and Milton, prose and rhymes; 370 - They were our lessons, and, at ten years old, - I could repeat----but now enough is told. - Sir, I can tell you I my mind applied } - To all my studies, and was not denied } - Praise for my progress----Are you satisfied?’ } - “‘Entirely, madam! else were I possess’d - By a strong spirit who could never rest. - Yes! yes, no more I question--here I close - The theme for ever--let us to repose.’” - - - - -TALES OF THE HALL. - -BOOK X. - -_THE OLD BACHELOR._ - - - A Friend arrives at the Hall--Old Bachelors and - Maids--Relation of one--His Parents--The - first Courtship--The second--The third--Long - Interval--Travel--Decline of Life--The fourth - Lady--Conclusion. - -TALES OF THE HALL. - -BOOK X. - -_THE OLD BACHELOR._ - - Save their kind friend the rector, Richard yet - Had not a favourite of his brother met; - Now at the Hall that welcome guest appear’d, - By trust, by trials, and by time endear’d; - Of him the grateful ’squire his love profess’d, - And full regard--he was of friends the best; - “Yet not to him alone this good I owe, - This social pleasure that our friends bestow; - The sex that wrought in earlier life my woes, - With loss of time who murder’d my repose, 10 - They to my joys administer, nor vex - Me more; and now I venerate the sex; - And boast the friendship of a spinster kind, - Cheerful and pleasant, to her fate resign’d; - Then by her side my bachelor I place, - And hold them honours to the human race. - Yet these are they in tale and song display’d, - The peevish man, and the repining maid; - Creatures made up of misery and spite, - Who taste no pleasures, except those they blight; 20 - From whom th’ affrighten’d niece and nephew fly-- - Fear’d while they live, and useless till they die. - “Not such these friends of mine; they never meant - That youth should so be lost, or life be spent. - They had warm passions, tender hopes, desires - That youth indulges, and that love inspires; - But fortune frown’d on their designs, displaced - The views of hope, and love’s gay dreams disgraced; - Took from the soul her sunny views, and spread - A cloud of dark but varying gloom instead. 30 - And shall we these with ridicule pursue, - Because they did not what they could not do? - If they their lot preferr’d, still why the jest - On those who took the way they judged the best? - But if they sought a change, and sought in vain, - ’Tis worse than brutal to deride their pain-- - But you will see them; see the man I praise, - The kind protector in my troubled days, - Himself in trouble; you shall see him now, - And learn his worth! and my applause allow.” 40 - This friend appear’d, with talents form’d to please, - And with some looks of sprightliness and ease; - To him indeed the ills of life were known, - But misery had not made him all her own. - They spoke on various themes, and George design’d - To show his brother this, the favourite mind; - To lead the friend, by subjects he could choose, } - To paint himself, his life, and earlier views, } - What he was bless’d to hope, what he was doom’d to lose. } - They spoke of marriage, and he understood 50 - Their call on him, and said, “It is not good - To be alone, although alone to be - Is freedom; so are men in deserts free; - Men who unyoked and unattended groan, - Condemn’d and grieved to walk their way alone. - Whatever ills a married pair betide, - Each feels a stay, a comfort, or a guide; - ‘Not always comfort,’ will our wits reply.-- - Wits are not judges, nor the cause shall try. - “Have I not seen, when grief his visits paid, 60 - That they were easier by communion made? - True, with the quiet times and days serene, - There have been flying clouds of care and spleen; - But is not man, the solitary, sick - Of his existence, sad and splenetic? - And who will help him, when such evils come, - To bear the pressure or to clear the gloom? - “Do you not find, that joy within the breast - Of the unwedded man is soon suppress’d; - While, to the bosom of a wife convey’d, 70 - Increase is by participation made?-- - The lighted lamp that gives another light, - Say, is it by th’ imparted blaze less bright? - Are not both gainers when the heart’s distress - Is so divided that the pain is less? - And when the tear has stood in either eye, - Love’s sun shines out, and they are quickly dry.” - He ended here--but would he not confess, - How came these feelings on his mind to press? - He would! nor fear’d his weakness to display 80 - To men like them; their weakness too had they. - Bright shone the fire, wine sparkled, sordid care - Was banish’d far, at least appear’d not there; - A kind and social spirit each possess’d, - And thus began his tale the friendly guest. - - * * * * * - - “Near to my father’s mansion--but apart, - I must acknowledge, from my father’s heart-- - Dwelt a keen sportsman, in a pleasant seat; - Nor met the neighbours as should neighbours meet. - To them revenge appear’d a kind of right, 90 - A lawful pleasure, an avow’d delight; - Their neighbours too blew up their passion’s fire, - And urged the anger of each rival-squire; - More still their waspish tempers to inflame, - A party-spirit, friend of anger, came. - Oft would my father cry, ‘that tory-knave, - That villain-placeman, would the land enslave.’ - Not that his neighbour had indeed a place, - But would accept one--that was his disgrace; - Who, in his turn, was sure my father plann’d 100 - To revolutionize his native land. - He dared the most destructive things advance, - And even pray’d for liberty to France; - Had still good hope that Heaven would grant his prayer, - That he might see a revolution there. - At this the tory-squire was much perplex’d, - ‘Freedom in France!--what will he utter next? - Sooner should I in Paris look to see - An English army sent their guard to be.’ - “My poor mamma, who had her mind subdued 110 - By whig-control, and hated every feud, - Would have her neighbour met with mind serene; - But fiercer spirit fired the tory-queen. - My parents both had given her high disgust, - Which she resenting said, ‘Revenge is just;’ - And till th’ offending parties chose to stoop, - She judged it right to keep resentment up; - Could she in friendship with a woman live - Who could the insult of a man forgive? - Did not her husband in a crowded room 120 - Once call her idiot, and the thing was dumb? - The man’s attack was brutal to be sure, - But she no less an idiot to endure. - “This lofty dame, with unrelenting soul, - Had a fair girl to govern and control; - The dear Maria!--whom, when first I met,-- - Shame on this weakness! do I feel it yet? - “The parents’ anger, you will oft-times see, - Prepares the children’s minds for amity; - Youth will not enter into such debate, 130 - ’Tis not in them to cherish groundless hate; - Nor can they feel men’s quarrels or their cares, - Of whig or tory, partridges or hares. - “Long ere we loved, this gentle girl and I - Gave to our parents’ discord many a sigh; - It was not ours--and, when the meeting came, - It pleased us much to find our thoughts the same; - But grief and trouble in our minds arose - From the fierce spirits we could not compose; - And much it vex’d us that the friends so dear 140 - To us should foes among themselves appear. - “Such was this maid, the angel of her race, - Whom I had loved in any time and place, - But in a time and place which chance assign’d, - When it was almost treason to be kind; - When we had vast impediments in view, - Then wonder not that love in terror grew - With double speed--we look’d, and strove to find - A kindred spirit in the hostile mind; - But is it hostile? there appears no sign 150 - In those dear looks of warfare--none have mine; - At length I whisper’d--‘Would that war might cease - Between our houses, and that all was peace!’ - A sweet confusion on her features rose, - ‘She could not bear to think of having foes, - When we might all as friends and neighbours live, - And for that blessing, O! what would she give!’-- - ‘Then let us try and our endeavours blend,’ - I said, ‘to bring these quarrels to an end.’ - Thus, with one purpose in our hearts, we strove, 160 - And, if no more, increased our secret love: - Love that, with such impediments in view, - To meet the growing danger stronger grew; - And from that time each heart, resolved and sure, - Grew firm in hope, and patient to endure. - “To those who know this season of delight - I need not strive their feelings to excite; - To those who know not the delight or pain, - The best description would be lent in vain; - And to the grieving, who will no more find 170 - The bower of bliss, to paint it were unkind. - I pass it by, to tell that long we tried - To bring our fathers over to our side; - ’Twas bootless on their wives our skill to try, - For one would not, and one in vain, comply. - “First I began my father’s heart to move, - By boldly saying ‘We are born to love;’ - My father answer’d, with an air of ease, - ‘Well! very well! be loving if you please! - Except a man insults us or offends, 180 - In my opinion we should all be friends.’ - “This gain’d me nothing; little would accrue - From clearing points so useless though so true; - But with some pains I brought him to confess, - That to forgive our wrongs is to redress. - “‘It might be so,’ he answer’d, yet with doubt - That it might not; ‘but what is this about?’ - I dared not speak directly, but I strove - To keep my subjects, harmony and love. - “Coolly my father look’d, and much enjoy’d 190 - The broken eloquence his eye destroy’d; - Yet less confused, and more resolved at last, - With bolder effort to my point I past; - And, fondly speaking of my peerless maid, } - I call’d her worth and beauty to my aid; } - ‘Then make her mine!’ I said, and for his favour pray’d. } - “My father’s look was one I seldom saw; - It gave no pleasure, nor created awe: - It was the kind of cool contemptuous smile - Of witty persons, overcharged with bile; 200 - At first he spoke not, nor at last to me-- - “‘Well now, and what if such a thing could be? - What, if the boy should his addresses pay - To the tall girl, would that old tory say? - I have no hatred to the dog--but, still, - It was some pleasure when I used him ill; - This I must lose if we should brethren be, - Yet may be not, for brethren disagree; - The fool is right--there is no bar in life - Against their marriage--let her be his wife.-- 210 - Well, sir, you hear me!’--Never man complied, - And left a beggar so dissatisfied; - Though all was granted, yet was grace refused; } - I felt as one indulged, and yet abused; } - And yet, although provoked, I was not unamused. } - “In a reply like this appear’d to meet - All that encourage hope, and that defeat; - Consent, though cool, had been for me enough, - But this consent had something of reproof; - I had prepared my answer to his rage, 220 - With his contempt I thought not to engage. - I, like a hero, would my castle storm, - And meet the giant in his proper form; - Then, conquering him, would set my princess free: - This would a trial and a triumph be-- - When lo! a sneering menial brings the keys, - And cries in scorn, ‘Come, enter, if you please; - You’ll find the lady sitting on her bed, - And ’tis expected that you woo and wed.’ - “Yet not so easy was my conquest found; 230 - I met with trouble ere with triumph crown’d. - Triumph, alas!--My father little thought, - A king at home, how other minds are wrought; - True, his meek neighbour was a gentle squire, - And had a soul averse from wrath and ire; - He answer’d frankly, when to him I went, - ‘I give you little, sir, in my consent.’ - He and my mother were to us inclined, - The powerless party with the peaceful mind; - But that meek man was destined to obey 240 - A sovereign lady’s unremitted sway, - Who bore no partial, no divided rule; - All were obedient pupils in her school. - She had religious zeal, both strong and sour, - That gave an active sternness to her power; - But few could please her--she herself was one - By whom that deed was very seldom done. - With such a being, so disposed to feed - Contempt and scorn--how was I to succeed? - But love commanded, and I made my prayer 250 - To the stern lady, with an humble air, - Said all that lovers hope, all measures tried - That love suggested, and bow’d down to pride. - “Yes! I have now the tygress in my eye-- - When I had ceased and waited her reply, - A pause ensued; and then she slowly rose, - With bitter smile predictive of my woes, - A look she saw was plainly understood---- - “‘Admire my daughter! Sir, you’re very good. - The girl is decent, take her all in all-- } 260 - Genteel, we hope--perhaps a thought too tall; } - A daughter’s portion hers--you’ll think her } - fortune small. } - Perhaps her uncles, in a cause so good, - Would do a little for their flesh and blood; - We are not ill allied--and, say we make - Her portion decent, whither would you take? - Is there some cottage on your father’s ground, - Where may a dwelling for the girl be found? - Or a small farm--your mother understands - How to make useful such a pair of hands. 270 - “‘But this we drop at present, if you please; - We shall have leisure for such things as these; - They will be proper ere you fix the day - For the poor girl to honour and obey; - At present therefore we may put an end - To our discourse--Good morrow to you, friend!’ - “Then, with a solemn curtesy and profound, } - Her laughing eye she lifted from the ground, } - And left me lost in thought, and gazing idly round.-- } - “Still we had hope, and, growing bold in time, 280 - I would engage the father in our crime; - But he refused, for, though he wish’d us well, - He said, ‘he must not make his house a hell;’-- - And sure the meaning look that I convey’d - Did not inform him that the hell was made. - “Still hope existed that a mother’s heart - Would in a daughter’s feelings take a part; - Nor was it vain--for there is found access - To a hard heart, in time of its distress. - “The mother sicken’d, and the daughter sigh’d, 290 - And we petition’d till our queen complied; - She thought of dying, and, if power must cease, - Better to make, than cause, th’ expected peace; - And sure, this kindness mixing with the blood, - Its balmy influence caused the body’s good; - For as a charm it work’d upon the frame - Of the reviving and relenting dame; - For, when recover’d, she no more opposed - Her daughter’s wishes.--Here contention closed. - “Then bliss ensued, so exquisitely sweet, 300 - That with it once, once only, we can meet; - For, though we love again, and though once more - We feel th’ enlivening hope we felt before, - Still the pure freshness of the joy that cast - Its sweet around us is for ever past. - O! time to memory precious--ever dear, } - Though ever painful--this eventful year; } - What bliss is now in view! and now what woes appear! } - Sweet hours of expectation!--I was gone - To the vile town to press our business on; 310 - To urge its formal instruments--and lo! - Comes with dire looks a messenger of wo, - With tidings sad as death!--With all my speed - I reach’d her home!--but that pure soul was freed-- - She was no more--for ever shut that eye, - That look’d all soul, as if it could not die; - It could not see me--O! the strange distress } - Of these new feelings!--misery’s excess, } - What can describe it? words will not express. } - When I look back upon that dreadful scene, 320 - I feel renew’d the anguish that has been, - And reason trembles----Yes! you bid me cease, - Nor try to think; but I will think in peace.-- - Unbid and unforbidden, to the room - I went, a gloomy wretch amid that gloom; - And there the lovely being on her bed - Shrouded and cold was laid--Maria dead! - There was I left--and I have now no thought - Remains with me, how fear or fancy wrought; - I know I gazed upon the marble cheek, 330 - And pray’d the dear departed girl to speak-- - Further I know not, for, till years were fled, - All was extinguish’d--all with her was dead. - I had a general terror, dread of all - That could a thinking, feeling man befall; - I was desirous from myself to run, - And something, but I knew not what, to shun. - There was a blank from this I cannot fill; - It is a puzzle and a terror still. - Yet did I feel some intervals of bliss, 340 - Ev’n with the horrors of a fate like this; - And dreams of wonderful construction paid - For waking horror--dear angelic maid! - “When peace return’d, unfelt for many a year, - And hope, discarded flatterer, dared t’ appear; - I heard of my estate, how free from debt, - And of the comforts life afforded yet; - Beside that best of comforts in a life - So sad as mine--a fond and faithful wife. - My gentle mother, now a widow, made 350 - These strong attempts to guide me or persuade. - “‘Much time is lost,’ she said, ‘but yet my son - May, in the race of life, have much to run; - When I am gone, thy life to thee will seem - Lonely and sad, a melancholy dream; - Get thee a wife--I will not say to love, - But one, a friend in thy distress to prove; - One who will kindly help thee to sustain - Thy spirit’s burden in its hours of pain: - Say, will you marry?’--I in haste replied, 360 - ‘And who would be the self-devoted bride? - There is a melancholy power that reigns - Tyrant within me--who would bear his chains, - And hear them clicking every wretched hour, - With will to aid me, but without the power? - But if such one were found with easy mind, - Who would not ask for raptures--I’m resign’d.’ - “‘’Tis quite enough,’ my gentle mother cried; - ‘We leave the raptures, and will find the bride.’ - “There was a lady near us, quite discreet, 370 - Whom in our visits ’twas our chance to meet: - One grave and civil, who had no desire - That men should praise her beauties or admire; - She in our walks would sometimes take my arm, - But had no foolish fluttering or alarm; - She wish’d no heart to wound, no truth to prove, - And seem’d, like me, as one estranged from love; - My mother praised her, and with so much skill, - She gave a certain bias to my will; - But calm indeed our courtship; I profess’d 380 - A due regard--My mother did the rest: - Who soon declared that we should love, and grow - As fond a couple as the world could show; - And talk’d of boys and girls with so much glee, - That I began to wish the thing could be. - “Still, when the day that soon would come was named, - I felt a cold fit, and was half ashamed; - But we too far proceeded to revoke, - And had been much too serious for a joke; - I shook away the fear that man annoys, 390 - And thought a little of the girls and boys. - “A week remain’d--for seven succeeding days - Nor man nor woman might control my ways; - For seven dear nights I might to rest retire - At my own time, and none the cause require; - For seven blest days I might go in and out, - And none demand, ‘Sir, what are you about?’ - For one whole week I might at will discourse - On any subject, with a freeman’s force. - “Thus while I thought, I utter’d, as men sing 400 - In under-voice, reciting ‘With this ring;’ - That, when the hour should come, I might not dread - These, or the words that follow’d, ‘I thee wed.’ - “Such was my state of mind, exulting now - And then depress’d--I cannot tell you how-- - When a poor lady, whom her friends could send - On any message, a convenient friend, - Who had all feelings of her own o’ercome, - And could pronounce to any man his doom; - Whose heart indeed was marble, but whose face 410 - Assumed the look adapted to the case, - Enter’d my room, commission’d to assuage - What was foreseen, my sorrow and my rage. - “It seem’d the lady whom I could prefer, - And could my much-loved freedom lose for her, - Had bold attempts, but not successful, made, - The heart of some rich cousin to invade; - Who, half resisting, half complying, kept - A cautious distance, and the business slept. - “This prudent swain his own importance knew, 420 - And swore to part the now affianced two. - Fill’d with insidious purpose, forth he went, - Profess’d his love, and woo’d her to consent. - ‘Ah! were it true!’ she sigh’d; he boldly swore - His love sincere, and mine was sought no more. - “All this the witch at dreadful length reveal’d, - And begg’d me calmly to my fate to yield: - Much pains she took engagements old to state, - And hoped to hear me curse my cruel fate, - Threat’ning my luckless life; and thought it strange 430 - In me to bear the unexpected change; - In my calm feelings she beheld disguise, - And told of some strange wildness in my eyes. - “But there was nothing in the eye amiss, - And the heart calmly bore a stroke like this. - Not so my mother; though of gentle kind, - She could no mercy for the creature find. - “‘Vile plot!’ she said.--‘But, madam, if they plot, - And you would have revenge, disturb them not.’-- - “‘What can we do, my son?’--‘Consult our ease, 440 - And do just nothing, madam, if you please.’-- - “‘What will be said?’--‘We need not that discuss; - Our friends and neighbours will do that for us.’-- - “‘Do you so lightly, son, your loss sustain?’-- - ‘Nay, my dear madam, but I count it gain.’-- - “‘The world will blame us sure, if we be still.’-- - ‘And, if we stir, you may be sure it will.’-- - “‘Not to such loss your father had agreed.’-- - ‘No, for my father’s had been loss indeed.’ - “With gracious smile my mother gave assent, 450 - And let th’ affair slip by with much content. - “Some old dispute, the lover meant should rise, - Some point of strife they could not compromise, - Displeased the squire--he from the field withdrew, - Not quite conceal’d, not fully placed in view; - But half advancing, half retreating, kept - At his old distance, and the business slept. - “Six years had past, and forty ere the six, - When Time began to play his usual tricks: - The locks once comely in a virgin’s sight, 460 - Locks of pure brown, display’d th’ encroaching white; - The blood once fervid now to cool began, - And Time’s strong pressure to subdue the man. - I rode or walk’d as I was wont before, - But now the bounding spirit was no more; - A moderate pace would now my body heat, - A walk of moderate length distress my feet. - I show’d my stranger-guest those hills sublime, - But said, ‘the view is poor, we need not climb.’ - At a friend’s mansion I began to dread 470 - The cold neat parlour, and the gay glazed bed; - At home I felt a more decided taste, - And must have all things in my order placed; - I ceased to hunt, my horses pleased me less, - My dinner more; I learn’d to play at chess; - I took my dog and gun, but saw the brute - Was disappointed that I did not shoot; - My morning walks I now could bear to lose, - And bless’d the shower that gave me not to choose: - In fact, I felt a languor stealing on; 480 - The active arm, the agile hand were gone; - Small daily actions into habits grew, - And new dislike to forms and fashion new; - I loved my trees in order to dispose, } - I number’d peaches, look’d how stocks arose, } - Told the same story oft--in short, began to prose. } - “My books were changed; I now preferred the truth - To the light reading of unsettled youth; - Novels grew tedious, but, by choice or chance, - I still had interest in the wild romance. 490 - There is an age, we know, when tales of love - Form the sweet pabulum our hearts approve; - Then as we read we feel, and are indeed, - We judge, th’ heroic men of whom we read; - But in our after life these fancies fail; - We cannot be the heroes of the tale; - The parts that Cliffords, Mordaunts, Bevilles play - We cannot--cannot be so smart and gay. - “But all the mighty deeds and matchless powers - Of errant knights we never fancied ours, 500 - And thus the prowess of each gifted knight - Must at all times create the same delight; - Lovelace a forward youth might hope to seem, - But Lancelot never--that he could not dream; - Nothing reminds us in the magic page - Of old romance, of our declining age. - If once our fancy mighty dragons slew, - This is no more than fancy now can do; - But when the heroes of a novel come, - Conquer’d and conquering, to a drawing-room, 510 - We no more feel the vanity that sees - Within ourselves what we admire in these; - And so we leave the modern tale, to fly - From realm to realm with Tristram or Sir Guy. - “Not quite a Quixote, I could not suppose - That queens would call me to subdue their foes; - But, by a voluntary weakness sway’d, - When fancy call’d, I willingly obey’d. - “Such I became, and I believed my heart - Might yet be pierced by some peculiar dart 520 - Of right heroic kind, and I could prove - Fond of some peerless nymph who deign’d to love, - Some high-soul’d virgin, who had spent her time - In studies grave, heroic and sublime; - Who would not like me less that I had spent - Years eight and forty, just the age of Kent-- - But not with Kent’s discretion, for I grew - Fond of a creature whom my fancy drew: - A kind of beings who are never found - On middle-earth, but grow on fairy-ground. 530 - “These found I not; but I had luck to find - A mortal woman of this fairy kind; - A thin, tall, upright, serious, slender maid, - Who in my own romantic regions stray’d; - From the world’s glare to this sweet vale retired, - To dwell unseen, unsullied, unadmired; - In all her virgin excellence, above - The gaze of crowds, and hopes of vulgar love. - “We spoke of noble deeds in happier times, - Of glorious virtues, of debasing crimes. 540 - Warm was the season, and the subject too, - And therefore warm in our discourse we grew. - Love made such haste, that ere a month was flown - Since first we met, he had us for his own: - Riches are trifles in an hero’s sight, - And lead to questions low and unpolite; - I nothing said of money or of land, - But bent my knee, and fondly ask’d her hand; - And the dear lady, with a grace divine, - Gave it, and frankly answer’d, ‘it is thine.’ 550 - “Our reading was not to romance confined, - But still it gave its colour to the mind; - Gave to our studies something of its force, - And made profound and tender our discourse; - Our subjects all, and our religion, took - The grave and solemn spirit of our book; - And who had seen us walk, or heard us read, - Would say, ‘these lovers are sublime indeed.’ - “I knew not why, but when the day was named - My ardent wishes felt a little tamed; 560 - My mother’s sickness then awaked my grief, - And yet, to own the truth, was some relief; - It left uncertain that decisive time - That made my feelings nervous and sublime. - “Still all was kindness, and at morn and eve - I made a visit, talk’d, and took my leave: - Kind were the lady’s looks, her eyes were bright, - And swam, I thought, in exquisite delight; - A lovely red suffused the virgin cheek, - And spoke more plainly than the tongue could speak; 570 - Plainly all seem’d to promise love and joy, - Nor fear’d we ought that might our bliss destroy. - “Engaged by business, I one morn delay’d - My usual call on the accomplish’d maid; - But soon, that small impediment removed, - I paid the visit that decisive proved; - For the fair lady had, with grieving heart, - So I believed, retired to sigh apart: - I saw her friend, and begg’d her to entreat - My gentle nymph her sighing swain to meet. 580 - “The gossip gone--What dæmon, in his spite } - To love and man, could my frail mind excite, } - And lead me curious on, against all sense of right? } - There met my eye, unclosed, a closet’s door-- - Shame! how could I the secrets there explore? - Pride, honour, friendship, love, condemn’d the deed, - And yet, in spite of all, I could proceed! - I went, I saw--Shall I describe the hoard - Of precious worth in seal’d deposits stored - Of sparkling hues? Enough--enough is told, 590 - ’Tis not for man such mysteries to unfold. - Thus far I dare--Whene’er those orbits swam - In that blue liquid that restrain’d their flame, - As showers the sunbeams--when the crimson glow - Of the red rose o’erspread those cheeks of snow, - I saw, but not the cause--’twas not the red - Of transient blush that o’er her face was spread; - ’Twas not the lighter red, that partly streaks - The Catherine pear, that brighten’d o’er her cheeks, - Nor scarlet blush of shame--but such disclose 600 - The velvet petals of the Austrian rose, - When first unfolded: warm the glowing hue, - Nor cold as rouge, but deep’ning on the view. - Such were those cheeks--the causes unexplored - Were now detected in that secret hoard; - And ever to that rich recess would turn - My mind, and cause for such effect discern. - Such was my fortune, O! my friends, and such - The end of lofty hopes that grasp’d too much. - This was, indeed, a trying time in life, 610 - I lost at once a mother and a wife; - Yet compensation came in time for these, - And what I lost in joy, I gain’d in ease.”-- - “But,” said the squire, “did thus your courtship cease? - Resign’d your mistress her betroth’d in peace?”-- - “Yes; and had sense her feelings to restrain, - Nor ask’d me once my conduct to explain; - But me she saw those swimming eyes explore, - And explanation she required no more. - Friend to the last, I left her with regret-- 620 - Nay, leave her not, for we are neighbours yet. - “These views extinct, I travell’d, not with taste, - But so that time ran wickedly to waste; - I penn’d some notes, and might a book have made, - But I had no connexion with the trade; - Bridges and churches, towers and halls, I saw, - Maids and madonnas, and could sketch and draw: - Yes, I had made a book, but that my pride - In the not making was more gratified. - “There was one feeling upon foreign ground, 630 - That more distressing than the rest was found: - That, though with joy I should my country see, - There none had pleasure in expecting me. - “I now was sixty, but could walk and eat; - My food was pleasant, and my slumbers sweet; - But what could urge me at a day so late - To think of women?--my unlucky fate. - It was not sudden; I had no alarms, - But was attack’d when resting on my arms; - Like the poor soldier: when the battle raged 640 - The man escaped, though twice or thrice engaged; - But, when it ended, in a quiet spot - He fell, the victim of a random-shot. - “With my good friend the vicar oft I spent - The evening hours in quiet, as I meant; - He was a friend in whom, although untried - By ought severe, I found I could confide; - A pleasant, sturdy disputant was he, } - Who had a daughter--such the Fates decree, } - To prove how weak is man--poor yielding man, like me. } - “Time after time the maid went out and in, 651 - Ere love was yet beginning to begin; - The first awakening proof, the early doubt, - Rose from observing she went in and out. - My friend, though careless, seem’d my mind to explore, - ‘Why do you look so often at the door?’ - I then was cautious, but it did no good, - For she, at least, my meanings understood; - But to the vicar nothing she convey’d - Of what she thought--she did not feel afraid. 660 - “I must confess, this creature in her mind - Nor face had beauty that a man would blind; - No poet of her matchless charms would write, - Yet sober praise they fairly would excite. - She was a creature form’d man’s heart to make - Serenely happy, not to pierce and shake; - If she were tried for breaking human hearts, - Men would acquit her--she had not the arts. - Yet without art, at first without design, - She soon became the arbitress of mine; 670 - Without pretensions--nay, without pretence, - But by a native strange intelligence - Women possess when they behold a man - Whom they can tease, and are assured they can; - Then ’tis their soul’s delight and pride to reign } - O’er the fond slave, to give him ease or pain, } - And stretch and loose by turns the weighty viewless chain, } - “Though much she knew, yet nothing could she prove; - I had not yet confess’d the crime of love; - But, in an hour when guardian-angels sleep, 680 - I fail’d the secret of my soul to keep; - And then I saw the triumph in those eyes - That spoke--‘Ay, now you are indeed my prize.’ - I almost thought I saw compassion, too, - For all the cruel things she meant to do. - Well I can call to mind the managed air - That gave no comfort, that brought no despair, - That in a dubious balance held the mind, - To each side turning, never much inclined. - “She spoke with kindness--thought the honour high, 690 - And knew not how to give a fit reply; - She could not, would not, dared not, must not deem - Such language proof of ought but my esteem; - It made her proud--she never could forget - My partial thoughts--she felt her much in debt: - She who had never in her life indulged - The thought of hearing what I now divulged: - I, who had seen so many and so much-- - It was an honour--she would deem it such. - Our different years, indeed, would put an end } 700 - To other views, but still her father’s friend } - To her, she humbly hoped, would his regard extend. } - Thus, saying nothing, all she meant to say, - She play’d the part the sex delights to play; - Now by some act of kindness giving scope - To the new workings of excited hope, - Then by an air of something like disdain, - But scarcely seen, repelling it again; - Then for a season, neither cold nor kind, - She kept a sort of balance in the mind, 710 - And, as his pole a dancer on the rope, - The equal poise on both sides kept me up. - “Is it not strange that man can fairly view - Pursuit like this, and yet his point pursue; - While he the folly fairly will confess, - And even feel the danger of success? - But so it is, and nought the Circes care - How ill their victims with their poison fare, - When thus they trifle, and with quiet soul - Mix their ingredients in the maddening bowl: 720 - Their high regard, the softness of their air, - The pitying grief that saddens at a prayer, - Their grave petitions for the peace of mind - That they determine you shall never find, - And all their vain amazement that a man - Like you should love--they wonder how you can. - “For months the idler play’d her wicked part, - Then fairly gave the secret of her heart. - ‘She hoped’--I now the smiling gipsy view-- - ‘Her father’s friend would be her lover’s too; 730 - Young Henry Gale’--‘But why delay so long?’-- - ‘She could not tell--she fear’d it might be wrong, - But I was good’--I knew not, I was weak, - And spoke as love directed me to speak. - “When in my arms their boy and girl I take, - I feel a fondness for the mother’s sake; - But though the dears some softening thoughts excite, - I have no wishes for the father’s right. - “Now all is quiet, and the mind sustains - Its proper comforts, its befitting pains; 740 - The heart reposes; it has had its share } - Of love, as much as it could fairly bear; } - And what is left in life that now demands its care? } - “For O! my friends, if this were all indeed; - Could we believe that nothing would succeed; - If all were but this daily dose of life, - Without a care or comfort, child or wife; - These walks for health with nothing more in view; - This doing nothing, and with labour too; - This frequent asking when ’tis time to dine; 750 - This daily dosing o’er the news and wine; - This age’s riddle, when each day appears - So very long, so very short the years; - If this were all--but let me not suppose-- } - What then were life! whose virtues, trials, woes, } - Would sleep th’ eternal sleep, and there the scene would close. } - “This cannot be--but why has Time a pace - That seems unequal in our mortal race? - Quick is that pace in early life, but slow, - Tedious and heavy, as we older grow; 760 - But yet, though slow, the movements are alike, - And with no force upon the memory strike, - And therefore tedious as we find them all, - They leave us nothing we in view recal; - But days that we so dull and heavy knew - Are now as moments passing in review, - And hence arises ancient men’s report, - That days are tedious, and yet years are short.” - - - - -TALES OF THE HALL. - -BOOK XI. - -_THE MAID’S STORY._ - - - A Mother’s Advice--Trials for a young Lady--Ancient - Lovers--The Mother a Wife--Grandmamma--Genteel - Economy--Frederick, a young Collegian--Grandmamma - dies--Retreat with Biddy--Comforts of the - Poor--Return Home--Death of the Husband--Nervous - Disorders--Conversion--Frederick a Teacher--Retreat - to Sidmouth--Self-examination--The Mother - dies--Frederick a Soldier--Retirement with a - Friend--Their Happiness how interrupted--Frederick - an Actor--Is dismissed and supported--A last - Adventure. - -TALES OF THE HALL. - -BOOK XI. - -_THE MAID’S STORY._ - - Three days remain’d their friend, and then again - The Brothers left themselves to entertain; - When spake the younger--“It would please me well - To hear thy spinster-friend her story tell; - And our attention would be nobly paid - Thus to compare the Bachelor and Maid.” - “Frank as she is,” replied the squire, “nor one - Is more disposed to show what she has done - With time, or time with her: yet all her care - And every trial she might not declare 10 - To one a stranger; but to me, her friend, - She has the story of those trials penn’d; - These shalt thou hear, for well the maid I know, - And will her efforts and her conquests show. - Jacques is abroad, and we alone shall dine, - And then to give this lady’s tale be mine; - Thou wilt attend to this good spinster’s life, - And grieve and wonder she is not a wife; - But if we judge by either words or looks, - Her mode of life, her morals, or her books, 20 - Her pure devotion, unaffected sense, - Her placid air, her mild benevolence, - Her gay good humour, and her manners free, - She is as happy as a maid can be; - If as a wife, I know not, and decline - Question like this, till I can judge of thine.” - - Then from a secret hoard drew forth the squire } - His tale, and said, “Attention I require-- } - My verse you may condemn, my theme you must admire.” } - - * * * * * - - I to your kindness speak, let that prevail, 30 - And of my frailty judge as beings frail.---- - My father, dying, to my mother left - An infant charge, of all things else bereft; - Poor, but experienced in the world, she knew - What others did, and judged what she could do; - Beauty she justly weigh’d, was never blind - To her own interest, and she read mankind: - She view’d my person with approving glance, - And judged the way my fortune to advance; - Taught me betimes that person to improve, 40 - And make a lawful merchandize of love; - Bade me my temper in subjection keep, - And not permit my vigilance to sleep; - I was not one, a miss, who might presume - Now to be crazed by mirth, now sunk in gloom; - Nor to be fretful, vapourish, or give way - To spleen and anger, as the wealthy may; - But I must please, and all I felt of pride, - Contempt, and hatred, I must cast aside. - “Have not one friend,” my mother cried, “not one; 50 - That bane of our romantic triflers shun; - Suppose her true, can she afford you aid? - Suppose her false, your purpose is betray’d; - And then in dubious points, and matters nice, - How can you profit by a child’s advice? - While you are writing on from post to post, - Your hour is over, and a man is lost; - Girls of their hearts are scribbling, their desires, - And what the folly of the heart requires, - Dupes to their dreams--but I the truth impart, 60 - You cannot, child, afford to have a heart. - Think nothing of it; to yourself be true, - And keep life’s first great business in your view-- - Take it, dear Martha, for a useful rule, - She who is poor is ugly or a fool; - Or, worse than either, has a bosom fill’d - With soft emotions, and with raptures thrill’d. - “Read not too much, nor write in verse or prose, - For then you make the dull and foolish foes; - Yet those who do deride not nor condemn, 70 - It is not safe to raise up foes in them; - For though they harm you not, as blockheads do, - There is some malice in the scribbling crew.” - Such her advice; full hard with her had dealt - The world, and she the usage keenly felt. - “Keep your good name,” she said, “and that to keep - You must not suffer vigilance to sleep. - Some have, perhaps, the name of chaste retain’d, - When nought of chastity itself remain’d; - But there is danger--few have means to blind 80 - The keen-eyed world, and none to make it kind. - “And one thing more--to free yourself from foes - Never a secret to your friend disclose; - Secrets with girls, like loaded guns with boys, - Are never valued till they make a noise; - To show how trusted, they their power display; - To show how worthy, they the trust betray; - Like pence in children’s pockets secrets lie - In female bosoms--they must burn or fly. - “Let not your heart be soften’d; if it be, 90 - Let not the man his softening influence see; - For the most fond will sometimes tyrants prove, - And wound the bosom where they trace the love. - But to your fortune look, on that depend } - For your life’s comfort; comforts that attend } - On wealth alone--wealth gone, they have their end.” } - Such were my mother’s cares to mend my lot, - And such her pupil they succeeded not. - It was conceived the person I had then - Might lead to serious thoughts some wealthy men, 100 - Who, having none their purpose to oppose, - Would soon be won their wishes to disclose. - My mother thought I was the very child - By whom the old and amorous are beguiled: - So mildly gay, so ignorantly fair, - And pure, no doubt, as sleeping infants are; - Then I had lessons how to look and move, - And, I repeat, make merchandize of love. - Thrice it was tried if one so young could bring - Old wary men to buy the binding ring; 110 - And on the taper finger, to whose tip - The fond old swain would press his withering lip, - Place the strong charm:--and one would win my heart - By re-assuming youth--a trying part; - Girls, he supposed, all knew the young were bold, - And he would show that spirit in the old; - In boys they loved to hear the rattling tongue, - And he would talk as idly as the young; - He knew the vices our Lotharios boast, - And he would show of every vice the ghost, 120 - The evil’s self, without disguise or dress, - Vice in its own pure native ugliness: - Not, as the drunkenness of slaves, to prove - Vice hateful, but that seeing, I might love. - He drove me out, and I was pleased to see - Care of himself: it served as care for me; - For he would tell me, that he should not spare - Man, horse, or carriage, if I were not there: - Provoked at last, my malice I obey’d, - And smiling said, “Sir, I am not afraid.” 130 - This check’d his spirit; but he said, “Could you - Have charge so rich, you would be careful too.” - And he, indeed, so very slowly drove, - That we dismiss’d the over-cautious love. - My next admirer was of equal age, } - And wish’d the child’s affection to engage, } - And keep the fluttering bird a victim in his cage. } - He had no portion of his rival’s glee, - But gravely praised the gravity in me; - Religious, moral, both in word and deed, 140 - But warmly disputatious in his creed; - Wild in his younger time, as we were told, - And therefore like a penitent when old. - Strange he should wish a lively girl to look - Upon the methods his repentance took! - Then he would say, he was no more a rake - To squander money for his passions’ sake; - Yet, upon proper terms, as man discreet, - He with my mother was disposed to treat, - To whom he told, “the price of beauty fell 150 - In every market, and but few could sell; - That trade in India, once alive and brisk, - Was over done, and scarcely worth the risk.” - Then stoop’d to speak of board, and what for life - A wife would cost----if he should take a wife. - Hardly he bargain’d, and so much desired, - That we demurr’d; and he, displeased, retired. - And now I hoped to rest, nor act again - The paltry part for which I felt disdain, - When a third lover came within our view, 160 - And somewhat differing from the former two. - He had been much abroad, and he had seen - The world’s weak side, and read the hearts of men; - But all, it seem’d, this study could produce, - Was food for spleen, derision, and abuse; - He levell’d all, as one who had intent - To clear the vile and spot the innocent; - He praised my sense, and said I ought to be - From girl’s restraint and nursery maxims free; - He praised my mother; but he judged her wrong 170 - To keep us from th’ admiring world so long; - He praised himself; and then his vices named, - And call’d them follies, and was not ashamed. - He more than hinted that the lessons taught - By priests were all with superstition fraught; - And I must think them for the crowd design’d, - Not to alarm the free and liberal mind. - Wisdom with him was virtue. They were wrong - And weak, he said, who went not with the throng; - Man must his passions order and restrain 180 - In all that gives his fellow-subjects pain; - But yet of guilt he would in pity speak, - And as he judged, the wicked were the weak. - Such was the lover of a simple maid, - Who seem’d to call his logic to his aid, - And to mean something; I will not pretend - To judge the purpose of my reasoning friend, - Who was dismiss’d, in quiet to complain - That so much labour was bestow’d in vain. - And now my mother seem’d disposed to try 190 - A life of reason and tranquillity. - Ere this, her health and spirits were the best, - Hers the day’s trifling, and the nightly rest; - But something new was in her mind instill’d; - Unquiet thoughts the matron bosom fill’d; - For five and forty peaceful years she bore - Her placid looks, and dress becoming wore: - She could a compliment with pleasure take, - But no absurd impression could it make. - Now were her nerves disorder’d; she was weak, 200 - And must the help of a physician seek: - A Scotch physician, who had just began - To settle near us, quite a graceful man, - And very clever, with a soft address, - That would his meaning tenderly express. - Sick as my mother seem’d, when he inquired - If she was ill, he found her well attired; - She purchased wares so showy and so fine, - The venders all believed th’ indulgence mine;-- - But I, who thrice was woo’d, had lovers three, 210 - Must now again a very infant be; - While the good lady, twenty years a wife, - Was to decide the colour of his life: - And she decided. She was wont t’ appear - To these unequal marriages severe; - Her thoughts of such with energy she told, - And was repulsive, dignified, and cold; - But now, like monarchs weary of a throne, - She would no longer reign--at least alone. - She gave her pulse, and, with a manner sweet, 220 - Wish’d him to feel how kindly they could beat; - And ’tis a thing quite wonderful to tell - How soon he understood them, and how well. - Now, when she married, I from home was sent, - With grandmamma to keep perpetual Lent; - For she would take me on conditions cheap, - For what we scarcely could a parrot keep: - A trifle added to the daily fare - Would feed a maiden who must learn to spare. - With grandmamma I lived in perfect ease; 230 - Consent to starve, and I was sure to please. - Full well I knew the painful shifts we made } - Expenses all to lessen or evade, } - And tradesmen’s flinty hearts to soften and persuade. } - Poor grandmamma among the gentry dwelt - Of a small town, and all the honour felt; - Shrinking from all approaches to disgrace - That might be mark’d in so genteel a place; - Where every daily deed, as soon as done, } - Ran through the town as fast as it could run-- } 240 - At dinners what appear’d--at cards who lost or won. } - Our good appearance through the town was known, - Hunger and thirst were matters of our own; - And you would judge that she in scandal dealt - Who told on what we fed, or how we felt. - We had a little maid, some four feet high, - Who was employ’d our household stores to buy; - For she would weary every man in trade, - And tease t’ assent whom she could not persuade. - Methinks I see her, with her pigmy light, 250 - Precede her mistress in a moonless night; - From the small lantern throwing through the street - The dimm’d effulgence at her lady’s feet; - What time she went to prove her well-known skill - With rival friends at their beloved quadrille. - “And how’s your pain?” inquired the gentle maid, - For that was asking if with luck she play’d; - And this she answer’d as the cards decreed, - “O Biddy! ask not--very bad indeed;” - Or, in more cheerful tone, from spirit light, 260 - “Why, thank you, Biddy, pretty well to-night.” - The good old lady often thought me vain, - And of my dress would tenderly complain; - But liked my taste in food of every kind, - As from all grossness, like her own, refined. - Yet when she hinted that on herbs and bread - Girls of my age and spirit should be fed, - Whate’er my age had borne, my flesh and blood, - Spirit and strength, the interdict withstood; - But, though I might the frugal soul offend 270 - Of the good matron, now my only friend, - And though her purse suggested rules so strict, - Her love could not the punishment inflict; - She sometimes watch’d the morsel with a frown, - And sigh’d to see, but let it still go down. - Our butcher’s bill, to me a monstrous sum, - Was such that, summon’d, he forbore to come: - Proud man was he, and when the bill was paid, - He put the money in his bag and play’d, - Jerking it up, and catching it again, 280 - And poising in his hand in pure disdain; - While the good lady, awed by man so proud, - And yet disposed to have her claims allow’d, - Balanced between humility and pride, - Stood a fall’n empress at the butcher’s side, - Praising his meat as delicate and nice---- - “Yes, madam, yes! if people pay the price.” - So lived the lady, and so murmur’d I, - In all the grief of pride and poverty. - Twice in the year there came a note to tell 290 - How well mamma, who hoped the child was well; - It was not then a pleasure to be styled, - By a mamma of such experience, ‘Child!’ - But I suppressed the feelings of my pride, - Or other feelings set them all aside. - There was a youth from college, just the one - I judged mamma would value as a son; - He was to me good, handsome, learn’d, genteel, - I cannot now what then I thought reveal; - But, in a word, he was the very youth 300 - Who told me what I judged the very truth, - That love like his and charms like mine agreed, - For all description they must both exceed. - Yet scarcely can I throw a smile on things - So painful, but that Time his comfort brings, - Or rather throws oblivion on the mind, - For we are more forgetful than resign’d. - We both were young, had heard of love and read, - And could see nothing in the thing to dread, - But like a simple pair our time employ’d 310 - In pleasant views to be in time enjoy’d. - When Frederick came, the kind old lady smiled - To see the youth so taken with her child; - A nice young man, who came with unsoil’d feet - In her best room, and neither drank nor eat. - Alas! he planted in a vacant breast - The hopes and fears that robb’d it of its rest. - All now appear’d so right, so fair, so just, - We surely might the lovely prospect trust; - Alas! poor Frederick and his charmer found 320 - That they were standing on fallacious ground: - All that the father of the youth could do - Was done--and now he must himself pursue - Success in life; and, honest truth to state, - He was not fitted for a candidate. - I, too, had nothing in this world below, - Save what a Scotch physician could bestow, - Who for a pittance took my mother’s hand; - And, if disposed, what had they to command? - But these were after fears, nor came t’ annoy 330 - The tender children in their dreams of joy; - Who talk’d of glebe and garden, tithe and rent, - And how a fancied income should be spent; - What friends, what social parties we should see, - And live with what genteel economy; - In fact, we gave our hearts as children give, - And thought of living as our neighbours live. - Now, when assured ourselves that all was well, - ’Twas right our friends of these designs to tell; - For this we parted.--Grandmamma, amazed, 340 - Upon her child with fond compassion gazed; - Then pious tears appear’d, but not a word - In aid of weeping till she cried, “Good Lord!” - She then, with hurried motion, sought the stairs, - And, calling Biddy, bade her come to prayers. - Yet the good lady early in her life - Was call’d to vow the duties of a wife; - She sought the altar by her friends’ advice, - No free-will offering, but a sacrifice; - But here a forward girl and eager boy 350 - Dared talk of life, and turn their heads with joy! - To my mamma I wrote in just the way - I felt, and said what dreaming lasses say: - How handsome Frederick was, by all confess’d, - How well he look’d, how very well he dress’d; - With learning much, that would for both provide, - His mother’s darling, and his father’s pride; - ‘And then he loves me more than mind can guess, - Than heart conceive, or eloquence express.’ - No letter came a doubtful mind to ease, 360 - And, what was worse, no Frederick came to please; - To college gone--so thought our little maid-- - But not to see me! I was much afraid; - I walk’d the garden round, and deeply sigh’d, - When grandmamma grew faint! and dropt, and died: - A fate so awful and so sudden drove - All else away, and half extinguish’d love. - Strange people came; they search’d the house around, - And, vulgar wretches! sold whate’er they found: - The secret hoards that in the drawers were kept, 370 - The silver toys that with the tokens slept, - The precious beads, the corals with their bells, - That laid secure, lock’d up in secret cells, - The costly silk, the tabby, the brocade, - The very garment for the wedding made, - Were brought to sale, with many a jest thereon! - “Going--a bridal dress--for----Going!--Gone.” - That ring, dear pledge of early love and true, } - That to the wedded finger almost grew, } - Was sold for six and ten-pence to a Jew! } 380 - Great was the fancied worth; but ah! how small - The sum thus made, and yet how valued all! - But all that to the shameful service went - Just paid the bills, the burial, and the rent; - And I and Biddy, poor deserted maids! - Were turn’d adrift to seek for other aids. - Now left by all the world, as I believed, - I wonder’d much that I so little grieved; - Yet I was frighten’d at the painful view - Of shiftless want, and saw not what to do. 390 - In times like this the poor have little dread, - They can but work, and they shall then be fed; - And Biddy cheer’d me with such thoughts as this, - “You’ll find the poor have their enjoyments, Miss!” - Indeed I saw, for Biddy took me home - To a forsaken hovel’s cold and gloom; - And while my tears in plenteous flow were shed, - With her own hands she placed her proper bed, - Reserved for need. A fire was quickly made, - And food, the purchase for the day, display’d; 400 - She let in air to make the damps retire, - Then placed her sad companion at her fire; - She then began her wonted peace to feel, - She [brought] her wool, and sought her favourite wheel; - That as she turn’d, she sang with sober glee, - “Begone, dull Care! I’ll have no more with thee”; - Then turn’d to me, and bade me weep no more, - But try and taste the pleasures of the poor. - When dinner came, on table brown and bare - Were placed the humblest forms of earthen ware, 410 - With one blue dish, on which our food was placed, - For appetite provided, not for taste. - I look’d disgusted, having lately seen - All so minutely delicate and clean; - Yet, as I sate, I found to my surprise - A vulgar kind of inclination rise, - And near my humble friend, and nearer, drew, - Tried the strange food, and was partaker too. - I walk’d at eve, but not where I was seen, - And thought, with sorrow, what can Frederick mean? 420 - I must not write, I said, for I am poor; - And then I wept till I could weep no more. - Kind-hearted Biddy tried my griefs to heal, - This is a nothing to what others feel; - Life has a thousand sorrows worse than this, - A lover lost is not a fortune, Miss! - One goes, another comes, and which is best - There is no telling--set your heart at rest.” - At night we pray’d--I dare not say a word - Of our devotion, it was so absurd; 430 - And very pious upon Biddy’s part, - But mine were all effusions of the heart; - While she her angels call’d their peace to shed, - And bless the corners of our little bed. - All was a dream! I said, is this indeed } - To be my life? and thus to lodge and feed, } - To pay for what I have, and work for what I need? } - Must I be poor? and Frederick, if we meet, - Would not so much as know me in the street? - Or, as he walk’d with ladies, he would try 440 - To be engaged as we were passing by-- - And then I wept to think that I should grow - Like them whom he would be ashamed to know. - On the third day, while striving with my fate, - And hearing Biddy all its comforts state, - Talking of all her neighbours, all her schemes, - Her stories, merry jests, and warning dreams, - With tales of mirth and murder--O! the nights - Past, said the maiden, in such dear delights, - And I was thinking, can the time arrive 450 - When I shall thus be humbled, and survive?-- - Then I beheld a horse and handsome gig, - With the good air, tall form, and comely wig - Of Doctor Mackey--I in fear began - To say, Good heaven, preserve me from the man! - But fears ill reason--heaven to such a mind - Had lent a heart compassionate and kind. - From him I learnt that one had call’d to know - What with my hand my parents could bestow; - And when he learn’d the truth, in high disdain 460 - He told my fate, and home return’d again. - “Nay, be not grieved, my lovely girl; but few - Wed the first love, however kind and true; - Something there comes to break the strongest vow, - Or mine had been my gentle Mattie now. - When the good lady died--but let me leave - All gloomy subjects--’tis not good to grieve.” - Thus the kind Scotchman soothed me; he sustain’d - A father’s part, and my submission gain’d, - Then my affection; and he often told 470 - My sterner parent that her heart was cold. - He grew in honour--he obtain’d a name-- - And now a favourite with the place became; - To me most gentle, he would condescend - To read and reason, be the guide and friend; - He taught me knowledge of the wholesome kind, - And fill’d with many a useful truth my mind. - Life’s common burden daily lighter grew; - And even Frederick lessen’d in my view. - Cold and repulsive as he once appear’d, 480 - He was by every generous act endear’d; - And, above all, that he with ardour fill’d - My soul for truth--a love by him instill’d; - Till my mamma grew jealous of a maid - To whom an husband such attention paid: - Not grossly jealous, but it gave her pain, - And she observed, “He made her daughter vain; - And what his help to one who must not look - To gain her bread by poring on a book?” - This was distress; but this, and all beside, 490 - Was lost in grief--my kinder parent died; - When praised and loved, when joy and health he gave, - He sank lamented to an early grave; - Then love and we the parent and the child, - Lost in one grief, allied and reconciled. - Yet soon a will, that left me half his worth, - To the same spirit gave a second birth; - But ’twas a mother’s spleen; and she indeed - Was sick, and sad, and had of comfort need. - I watch’d the way her anxious spirit took, 500 - And often found her musing o’er a book; - She changed her dress, her church, her priest, her prayer, - Join’d a new sect, and sought her comforts there. - Some strange, coarse people came, and were so free - In their addresses, they offended me; - But my mamma threw all her pride away-- - More humble she as more assuming they. - “And what,” they said, as having power, “are now - The inward conflicts? do you strive? and how?” - Themselves confessing thoughts so new and wild, 510 - I thought them like the visions of a child. - “Could we,” they ask, “our best good deeds condemn? } - And did we long to touch the garment’s hem? } - And was it so with us? for so it was with them.” } - A younger few assumed a softer part, - And tried to shake the fortress of my heart; - To this my pliant mother lent her aid, - And wish’d the winning of her erring maid. - I was constrain’d her female friends to hear; - But suffer’d not a bearded convert near; 520 - Though more than one attempted, with their whine. - And “Sister! sister! how that heart of thine?” - But this was freedom I for ever check’d: - Mine was a heart no brother could affect. - But, “would I hear the preacher, and receive - The dropping dew of his discourse at eve? - The soft, sweet words?” I gave two precious hours - To hear of gifts and graces, helps and powers; - When a pale youth, who should dismiss the flock, - Gave to my bosom an electric shock. 530 - While in that act, he look’d upon my face - As one in that all-equalizing place; - Nor, though he sought me, would he lay aside - Their cold, dead freedom, or their dull, sad pride. - Of his conversion he with triumph spoke, - Before he orders from a bishop took; - Then how his father’s anger he had braved, - And, safe himself, his erring neighbours saved. - Me he rejoiced a sister to behold - Among the members of his favourite fold; 540 - He had not sought me; the availing call - Demanded all his love, and had it all; - But, now thus met, it must be heaven’s design.-- - Indeed! I thought; it never shall be mine!-- - Yes, we must wed. He was not rich: and I - Had of the earthly good a mean supply; - But it sufficed. Of his conversion then - He told, and labours in converting men; - For he was chosen all their bands among-- - Another Daniel! honour’d, though so young. 550 - He call’d me sister; show’d me that he knew - What I possess’d; and told what it would do; - My looks, I judge, express’d my full disdain; } - But it was given to the man in vain: } - They preach till they are proud, and pride disturbs the brain. } - Is this the youth once timid, mild, polite? - How odious now, and sick’ning to the sight! - Proud that he sees, and yet so truly blind, - With all this blight and mildew on the mind! - Amazed, the solemn creature heard me vow 560 - That I was not disposed to take him now. - “Then, art thou changed, fair maiden? changed thy heart?” - I answered, “No; but I perceive thou art.” - Still was my mother sad, her nerves relax’d, - And our small income for advice was tax’d; - When I, who long’d for change and freedom, cried, - ‘Let sea and Sidmouth’s balmy air be tried.’ - And so they were, and every neighbouring scene, - That make the bosom, like the clime, serene; - Yet were her teachers loth to yield assent; 570 - And not without the warning voice we went; - And there was secret counsel all unknown - To me--but I had counsel of my own. - And now there pass’d a portion of my time - In ease delicious, and in joy sublime-- - With friends endear’d by kindness--with delight - In all that could the feeling mind excite, - Or please, excited; walks in every place - Where we could pleasure find and beauty trace, - Or views at night, where on the rocky steep 580 - Shines the full moon, or glitters on the deep. - Yes, they were happy days; but they are fled! - All now are parted--part are with the dead! - Still it is pleasure, though ’tis mix’d with pain, - To think of joys that cannot live again-- - Here cannot live; but they excite desire - Of purer kind, and heavenly thoughts inspire! - And now my mother, weaken’d in her mind, - Her will, subdued before, to me resign’d. - Wean’d from her late directors, by degrees 590 - She sank resign’d, and only sought for ease. - In a small town upon the coast we fix’d, - Nor in amusement with associates mix’d. - My years--but other mode will I pursue, - And count my time by what I sought to do. - And was that mind at ease? could I avow - That no once leading thoughts engaged me now? - Was I convinced th’ enthusiastic man - Had ruin’d what the loving boy began? - I answer doubting--I could still detect 600 - Feelings too soft--yet him I could reject: - Feelings that came when I had least employ-- - When common pleasures I could least enjoy-- - When I was pacing lonely in the rays - Of a full moon, in lonely walks and ways-- - When I was sighing o’er a tale’s distress, - And paid attention to my Bible less. - These found, I sought my remedies for these; - I suffer’d common things my mind to please, - And common pleasures; seldom walk’d alone, 610 - Nor when the moon upon the waters shone; - But then my candles lit, my window closed, - My needle took, and with my neighbours prosed; - And in one year--nay, ere the end of one, - My labour ended, and my love was done. - My heart at rest, I boldly look’d within, - And dared to ask it of its secret sin; - Alas! with pride it answer’d, “Look around, - And tell me where a better heart is found.” - And then I traced my virtues; O! how few, 620 - In fact, they were, and yet how vain I grew; - Thought of my kindness, condescension, ease, - My will, my wishes, nay, my power to please; - I judged me prudent, rational, discreet, - And void of folly, falsehood and deceit; - I read, not lightly, as I some had known, - But made an author’s meaning all my own; - In short, what lady could a poet choose - As a superior subject for his muse? - So said my heart; and Conscience straight replied-- } - “I say the matter is not fairly tried: } 631 - I am offended, hurt, dissatisfied. } - First of the Christian graces, let me see - What thy pretensions to humility? - Art thou prepared for trial? Wilt thou say - ‘I am this being,’ and for judgment pray? - And, with the gallant Frenchman, wilt thou cry, - When to thy judge presented, ‘thus am I-- - Thus was I formed--these talents I possess’d-- - So I employed them--and thou know’st the rest?’” 640 - Thus Conscience; and she then a picture drew, - And bade me think and tremble at the view. - One I beheld--a wife, a mother--go - To gloomy scenes of wickedness and wo; - She sought her way through all things vile and base, - And made a prison a religious place; - Fighting her way--the way that angels fight - With powers of darkness--to let in the light. - Tell me, my heart, hast thou such victory won - As this, a sinner of thy sex, has done, 650 - And calls herself a sinner? What art thou? - And where thy praise and exaltation now? - Yet is she tender, delicate, and nice, - And shrinks from all depravity and vice; - Shrinks from the ruffian gaze, the savage gloom, - That reign where guilt and misery find an home-- - Guilt chain’d, and misery purchased; and with them - All we abhor, abominate, condemn-- - The look of scorn, the scowl, th’ insulting leer - Of shame, all fix’d on her who ventures here. 660 - Yet all she braved! she kept her stedfast eye - On the dear cause, and brush’d the baseness by. - So would a mother press her darling child - Close to her breast, with tainted rags defiled. - But thou hast talents truly! say, the ten: - Come, let us look at their improvement then. - What hast thou done to aid thy suffering kind, - To help the sick, the deaf, the lame, the blind? - Hast thou not spent thy intellectual force - On books abstruse, in critical discourse? 670 - Wasting in useless energy thy days, - And idly listening to their common praise, - Who can a kind of transient fame dispense, - And say--“a woman of exceeding sense.” - Thus tried, and failing, the suggestions fled, - And a corrected spirit reign’d instead. - My mother yet was living; but the flame - Of life now flash’d, and fainter then became; - I made it pleasant, and was pleased to see - A parent looking as a child to me. 680 - And now our humble place grew wond’rous gay; } - Came gallant persons in their red array: } - All strangers welcome there, extremely welcome they. } - When in the church I saw inquiring eyes - Fix’d on my face with pleasure and surprise; - And soon a knocking at my door was heard; - And soon the lover of my youth appear’d-- - Frederick, in all his glory, glad to meet, - And say, “his happiness was now complete.” - He told his flight from superstitious zeal; 690 - But first what torments he was doom’d to feel: - The tender tears he saw from women fall-- - The strong persuasions of the brethren all-- - The threats of crazed enthusiasts, bound to keep - The struggling mind, and awe the straying sheep-- - From these, their love, their curses, and their creed, - Was I by reason and exertion freed. - Then, like a man who often had been told - And was convinced success attends the bold, - His former purpose he renew’d, and swore 700 - He never loved me half so well before: - Before he felt a something to divide - The heart, that now had not a love beside. - In earlier times had I myself amused, - And first my swain perplex’d, and then refused-- - Cure for conceit; but now in purpose grave, - Strong and decisive the reply I gave. - Still he would come, and talk as idlers do, - Both of his old associates and his new; - Those who their dreams and reveries receive 710 - For facts, and those who would not facts believe. - He now conceived that truth was hidden, placed - He knew not where, she never could be traced; - But that in every place, the world around, - Might some resemblance of the nymph be found. - Yet wise men knew these shadows to be vain, - Such as our true philosophers disdain-- - “They laugh to see what vulgar minds pursue-- } - Truth, as a mistress, never in their view-- } - But there the shadow flies, and that, they cry, is true.” } - Thus, at the college and the meeting train’d, 721 - My lover seem’d his acmè to have gain’d; - With some compassion I essay’d a cure: - “If truth be hidden, why art thou so sure?” - This he mistook for tenderness, and cried, - “If sure of thee, I care not what beside!” - Compelled to silence, I, in pure disdain, - Withdrew from one so insolent and vain; - He then retired; and, I was kindly told, - In pure compassion grew estranged and cold. 730 - My mother died; but, in my grief, drew near - A bosom friend, who dried the useless tear; - We lived together: we combined our shares - Of the world’s good, and learn’d to brave its cares. - We were the ladies of the place, and found - Protection and respect the country round; - We gave, and largely, for we wish’d to live - In good repute--for this ’tis good to give; - Our annual present to the priest convey’d - Was kindly taken--we in comfort pray’d. 740 - There none molested in the crimson pew - The worthy ladies, whom the vicar knew; - And we began to think that life might be-- - Not happy all, but innocently free. - My friend in early life was bound to one - Of gentle kindred, but a younger son. - He fortune’s smile with perseverance woo’d, - And wealth beneath the burning sun pursued. - There, urged by love and youthful hope, he went, - Loth; but ’twas all his fortune could present. 750 - From hence he wrote; and, with a lover’s fears, - And gloomy fondness, talk’d of future years; - To her devoted, his Priscilla found - His faithful heart still suffering with its wound, - That would not heal. A second time she heard; - And then no more; nor lover since appear’d. - Year after year the country’s fleet arrived, - Confirm’d her fear, and yet her love survived; - It still was living; yet her hope was dead, - And youthful dreams, nay, youth itself, was fled; 760 - And he was lost: so urged her friends, so she - At length believed, and thus retired with me. - She would a dedicated vestal prove, - And give her virgin vows to heaven and love; - She dwelt with fond regret on pleasures past, - With ardent hope on those that ever last; - Pious and tender, every day she view’d - With solemn joy our perfect solitude; - Her reading, that which most delighted her, - That soothed the passions, yet would gently stir; 770 - The tender, softening, melancholy strain, } - That caused not pleasure, but that vanquished pain, } - In tears she read, and wept, and long’d to read again. } - But other worlds were her supreme delight, - And there, it seem’d, she long’d to take her flight; - Yet patient, pensive, arm’d by thoughts sublime, - She watch’d the tardy steps of lingering time. - My friend, with face that most would handsome call, - Possess’d the charm that wins the heart of all; - And, thrice entreated by a lover’s prayer, 780 - She thrice refused him with determined air. - “No! had the world one monarch, and was he - All that the heart could wish its lord to be-- - Lovely and loving, generous, brave, and true-- - Vain were his hopes to waken hers anew!” - For she was wedded to ideal views, - And fancy’s prospects, that she would not lose, - Would not forego to be a mortal’s wife, - And wed the poor realities of life. - There was a day, ere yet the autumn closed, 790 - When, ere her wintry wars, the earth reposed; - When from the yellow weed the feathery crown, - Light as the curling smoke, fell slowly down; - When the wing’d insect settled in our sight, - And waited wind to recommence her flight; - When the wide river was a silver sheet, - And on the ocean slept th’ unanchor’d fleet; - When from our garden, as we look’d above, - There was no cloud, and nothing seem’d to move; - Then was my friend in ecstasies--she cried, 800 - “There is, I feel there is, a world beside! - Martha, dear Martha! we shall hear not then - Of hearts distress’d by good or evil men, - But all will constant, tender, faithful be-- - So had I been, and so had one with me; - But in this world the fondest and the best - Are the most tried, most troubled, and distress’d: - This is the place for trial, here we prove, - And there enjoy, the faithfulness of love. - “Nay, were he here in all the pride of youth, 810 - With honour, valour, tenderness, and truth, - Entirely mine, yet what could I secure, - Or who one day of comfort could insure? - “No! all is closed on earth, and there is now - Nothing to break th’ indissoluble vow; - But in that world will be th’ abiding bliss, - That pays for every tear and sigh in this.” - Such her discourse, and more refined it grew, - Till she had all her glorious dream in view; - And she would further in that dream proceed 820 - Than I dare go, who doubtfully agreed. - Smiling I ask’d, again to draw the soul - From flight so high, and fancy to control, - “If this be truth, the lover’s happier way - Is distant still to keep the purposed day; - The real bliss would mar the fancied joy, - And marriage all the dream of love destroy.” - She softly smiled, and, as we gravely talk’d, - We saw a man who up the gravel walk’d-- - Not quite erect, nor quite by age depress’d; 830 - A travell’d man, and as a merchant dress’d. - Large chain of gold upon his watch he wore, - Small golden buckles on his feet he bore; - A head of gold his costly cane display’d, - And all about him love of gold betray’d. - This comely man moved onward, and a pair - Of comely maidens met with serious air; - Till one exclaim’d, and wildly look’d around, - “O heav’n, ’tis Paul!” and dropt upon the ground; - But she recover’d soon, and you must guess 840 - What then ensued, and how much happiness. - They parted lovers, both distress’d to part; - They met as neighbours, heal’d, and whole of heart. - She in his absence look’d to heaven for bliss; - He was contented with a world like this: - And she prepared in some new state to meet - The man now seeking for some snug retreat. - He kindly told her he was firm and true, - Nor doubted her, and bade her then adieu! - “What shall I do?” the sighing maid began, 850 - “How lost the lover! O, how gross the man!” - For the plain dealer had his wish declared, - Nor she, devoted victim! could be spared. - He spoke as one decided; she as one - Who fear’d the love, and would the lover shun. - “O Martha, sister of my soul! how dies - Each lovely view! for can I truth disguise, - That this is he? No! nothing shall persuade: - This is a man the naughty world has made, - An eating, drinking, buying, bargaining man-- 860 - And can I love him? No! I never can. - What once he was, what fancy gave beside, - Full well I know, my love was then my pride; - What time has done, what trade and travel wrought, - You see! and yet your sorrowing friend is sought; - But can I take him?”--“Take him not,” I cried, - “If so averse--but why so soon decide?” - Meantime a daily guest the man appear’d, - Set all his sail, and for his purpose steer’d; - Loud and familiar, loving, fierce and free, 870 - He overpower’d her soft timidity: - Who, weak and vain, and grateful to behold - The man was hers, and hers would be the gold-- - Thus sundry motives, more than I can name, - Leagued on his part, and she a wife became. - A home was offer’d, but I knew too well - What comfort was with married friends to dwell; - I was resign’d, and had I felt distress, - Again a lover offer’d some redress. - Behold, a hero of the buskin hears 880 - My loss, and with consoling love appears. - Frederick was now a hero on the stage, - In all its glories, rhapsody, and rage; - Again himself he offer’d, offer’d all - That his an hero of the kind can call: - He for my sake would hope of fame resign, - And leave the applause of all the world for mine. - Hard fate was Frederick’s never to succeed, - Yet ever try--but so it was decreed. - His mind was weakened; he would laugh and weep, 890 - And swore profusely I had murder’d sleep, - Had quite unmann’d him, cleft his heart in twain, - And he should never be himself again. - He _was_ himself: weak, nervous, kind, and poor, - Ill dress’d and idle, he besieged my door; - Borrow’d,--or, worse; made verses on my charms, - And did his best to fill me with alarms. - I had some pity, and I sought the price - Of my repose--my hero was not nice: - There was a loan, and promise I should be } 900 - From all the efforts of his fondness free, } - From hunger’s future claims, or those of vanity. } - “Yet,” said he, bowing, “do to study take! - O! what a Desdemona wouldst thou make!” - Thus was my lover lost; yet even now - He claims one thought, and this we will allow. - His father lived to an extreme old age, - But never kind!--his son had left the stage, - And gain’d some office, but an humble place, - And that he lost! Want sharpen’d his disgrace, 910 - Urged him to seek his father--but too late: - His jealous brothers watch’d and barr’d the gate. - The old man died; but there is one who pays - A moderate pension for his latter days; - Who, though assured inquiries will offend, - Is ever asking for this unknown friend: - Some partial lady, whom he hopes to find - As to his wants so to his wishes kind. - “Be still,” a cool adviser sometimes writes-- - “Nay, but,” says he, “the gentle maid invites-- 920 - Do, let me know the young! the soft! the fair!” - “Old man,” ’tis answer’d, “take thyself to prayer! - Be clean, be sober, to thy priest apply, - And--dead to all around thee--learn to die!” - Now had I rest from life’s strong hopes and fears, - And no disturbance mark’d the flying years; - So on in quiet might those years have past, - But for a light adventure, and a last. - A handsome boy, from school-day bondage free, - Came with mamma to gaze upon the sea; 930 - With soft blue eye he look’d upon the waves, - And talk’d of treacherous rocks, and seamen’s graves. - There was much sweetness in his boyish smile, - And signs of feelings frank, that knew not guile. - The partial mother, of her darling proud, - Besought my friendship, and her own avow’d; - She praised her Rupert’s person, spirit, ease, - How fond of study, yet how form’d to please. - In our discourse he often bore a part, - And talk’d, heaven bless him, of his feeling heart; 940 - He spoke of pleasures souls like his enjoy, - And hated Lovelace like a virtuous boy; - He felt for Clementina’s holy strife, - And was Sir Charles as large and true as life; - For Virtue’s heroines was his soul distress’d; - True love and guileless honour fill’d his breast, - When, as the subjects drew the frequent sigh, } - The tear stood trembling in his large blue eye, } - And softly he exclaim’d, “Sweet, sweetest sympathy!” } - When thus I heard the handsome stripling speak, 950 - I smiled assent, and thought to pat his cheek; - But when I saw the feelings blushing there, - Signs of emotions strong, they said--forbear! - The youth would speak of his intent to live - On that estate which heaven was pleased to give-- - There with the partner of his joys to dwell, - And nurse the virtues that he loved so well; - The humble good of happy swains to share, - And from the cottage drive distress and care; - To the dear infants make some pleasures known, 960 - And teach, he gravely said, the virtues to his own. - He loved to read in verse, and verse-like prose, - The softest tales of love-inflicted woes; - When, looking fondly, he would smile and cry, - “Is there not bliss in sensibility?” - We walk’d together, and it seem’d not harm - In linking thought with thought, and arm with arm; - Till the dear boy would talk too much of bliss, - And indistinctly murmur--“such as this.” - When no maternal wish her heart beguiled, 970 - The lady call’d her son “her darling child;” - When with some nearer view her speech began, - She changed her phrase, and said, “the good young man!” - And lost, when hinting of some future bride, - The woman’s prudence in the mother’s pride. - Still decent fear and conscious folly strove - With fond presumption and aspiring love; - But now too plain to me the strife appear’d, - And what he sought I knew, and what he fear’d: - The trembling hand and frequent sigh disclosed 980 - The wish that prudence, care, and time opposed. - Was I not pleased, will you demand?--Amused - By boyish love, that woman’s pride refused? - This I acknowledge, and from day to day - Resolved no longer at such game to play; - Yet I forbore, though to my purpose true, - And firmly fix’d to bid the youth adieu. - There was a moonlight eve, serenely cool, - When the vast ocean seem’d a mighty pool; - Save the small rippling waves that gently beat, 990 - We scarcely heard them falling, at our feet. - His mother absent, absent every sound - And every sight that could the youth confound; - The arm, fast lock’d in mine, his fear betray’d, - And, when he spoke not, his designs convey’d; - He oft-times gasp’d for breath, he tried to speak, - And studying words, at last had words to seek. - Silent the boy, by silence more betray’d, - And fearing lest he should appear afraid, - He knelt abruptly, and his speech began-- 1000 - “Pity the pangs of an unhappy man.” - “Be sure,” I answer’d, “and relieve them too-- - But why that posture? What the woes to you? - To feel for others’ sorrows is humane, - But too much feeling is our virtue’s bane. - “Come, my dear Rupert! now your tale disclose, - That I may know the sufferer and his woes. - Know, there is pain that wilful man endures, - That our reproof and not our pity cures; - For though for such assumed distress we grieve, 1010 - Since they themselves as well as us deceive, - Yet we assist not.”----The unhappy youth, - Unhappy then, beheld not all the truth. - “O! what is this?” exclaim’d the dubious boy; - “Words that confuse the being they destroy? - So have I read the gods to madness drive - The man condemn’d with adverse fate to strive. - O! make thy victim, though by misery, sure, - And let me know the pangs I must endure; - For, like the Grecian warrior, I can pray, 1020 - Falling, to perish in the face of day.” - “Pretty, my Rupert; and it proves the use - Of all that learning which the schools produce. - But come, your arm--no trembling, but attend - To sober truth, and a maternal friend. - “You ask for pity?”--“O! indeed I do.” - “Well then, you have it, and assistance too: - Suppose us married!”--“O! the heavenly thought!” - “Nay--nay, my friend, be you by wisdom taught; - For wisdom tells you, love would soon subside, 1030 - Fall, and make room for penitence and pride; - Then would you meet the public eye, and blame - Your private taste, and be o’erwhelm’d with shame: - How must it then your bosom’s peace destroy - To hear it said, ‘The mother and her boy!’ - And then to show the sneering world it lies, - You would assume the man, and tyrannize; - Ev’n Time, Care’s general soother, would augment - Your self-reproaching, growing discontent. - “Add twenty years to my precarious life, 1040 - And lo! your aged, feeble, wailing wife; - Displeased, displeasing, discontented, blamed; - Both, and with cause, ashaming and ashamed. - When I shall bend beneath a press of time, - Thou wilt be all erect in manhood’s prime; - Then wilt thou fly to younger minds t’ assuage } - Thy bosom’s pain, and I in jealous age } - Shall move contempt, if still; if active, rage; } - And, though in anguish all my days are past, - Yet far beyond thy wishes they may last-- 1050 - May last till thou, thy better prospects fled, - Shall have no comfort when thy wife is dead. - “Then thou in turn, though none will call thee old, - [Wilt] feel thy spirit fled, thy bosom cold; - No strong or eager wish to make the will, - Life will appear to stagnate and be still, - As now with me it slumbers: O! rejoice - That I attend not to that pleading voice; - So will new hopes this troubled dream succeed, - And one will gladly hear my Rupert plead.” 1060 - Ask you, while thus I could the youth deny - Was I unmoved?--Inexorable I, - Fix’d and determined; thrice he made his prayer, - With looks of sadness first, and then despair; - Thrice doom’d to bear refusal, not exempt, - At the last effort, from a slight contempt. - “Did his distress, his pains, your joy excite?--” - No; but I fear’d his perseverance might. - Was there no danger in the moon’s soft rays, - To hear the handsome stripling’s earnest praise? 1070 - Was there no fear that while my words reproved - The eager youth, I might myself be moved? - Not for his sake alone I cried “persist - No more,” and with a frown the cause dismiss’d. - Seek you th’ event?--I scarcely need reply: - Love, unreturn’d, will languish, pine, and die. - We lived awhile in friendship; and with joy - I saw depart in peace the amorous boy. - We met some ten years after, and he then - Was married, and as cool as married men; 1080 - He talk’d of war and taxes, trade and farms, - And thought no more of me, or of my charms. - We spoke; and when, alluding to the past, - Something of meaning in my look I cast, - He, who could never thought or wish disguise, - Look’d in my face with trouble and surprise. - To kill reserve, I seized his arm, and cried, - “Know me, my lord!” when laughing, he replied, - Wonder’d again, and look’d upon my face, - And seem’d unwilling marks of time to trace; 1090 - But soon I brought him fairly to confess, - That boys in love judge ill of happiness. - Love had his day--to graver subjects led, - My will is govern’d, and my mind is fed; - And to more vacant bosoms I resign - The hopes and fears that once affected mine. - - - - -ERRATA. - -VOL. II. - - -[_The lines cited from the several poems are those of the poems; -those cited from title-pages containing mottoes are the lines of the -pages._] - -Page 6 l. 21 for _or_ read _but_. p. 13 l. 5 for _With_ read _In_. -_ib._ l. 13 for 2 read 1. _ib._ l. 17 for _Act II. Scene 7_ read -_Act IV. Scene 2_. p. 27 l. 5 several lines omitted after _and such_. -_ib._ l. 9 for 4 read 3. _ib._ l. 12 for _o’er_ read _in_. _ib._ l. -14 for _Egean_ read _Ægean_. _ib._ l. 15 for _Emilia_ read _Æmilia_. -_ib._ l. 16 for 5 read 1. _ib._ l. 18 for _she bad_ read _he bade_. -_ib._ l. 21 for _th’ insolent_ read _the insolent_. _ib._ l. 24 for -_fate_ read _state_. _ib._ l. 25 for _you_ read _ye_. p. 28 l. 13 -for _Pain_ read _Pains_. p. 41 l. 3 for _then_ read _there . . ._. -_ib._ l. 11 for 3 read 1. p. 47 l. 204 for _Chesterfield_ read -_‘Chesterfield.’_ p. 56 l. 4 for _ever true and humble_ read _a -true and humble wife_. _ib._ l. 10 for _The fatal time_ read _The -leisure and the fearful time_. _ib._ l. 11 for _all ceremonies and_ -read _the ceremonious_. _ib._ l. 18 for _impiety, thou impious_ read -_impiety and impious_. _ib._ l. 20 for 2 read 1. p. 67 l. 4 for -_peculiar_ read _particular_. _ib._ l. 5 for _she_ read _he_. _ib._ -l. 6 for _her_ read _his_. _ib._ l. 7 for _her_ read _his_. _ib._ -l. 16 for _Tempest_ read _The Tempest_. p. 69 l. 50 for _Marcus_ -read _‘Marcus.’_ p. 76 l. 344 for _divine!_ read _‘divine!’_. p. 87 -l. 3 for _make a curtsy_ read _make curtsy_. _ib._ l. 4 for _but -for_ read _but yet for_. _ib._ l. 11 for _amble, you nick-name_ -read _you amble, and you lisp, and nick-name_. _ib._ l. 15 for _Am -I contemn’d_ read _Stand I condemn’d_. _ib._ l. 16 for _II_. read -_III_. p. 92 l. 166 _‘Chaste, sober, solemn’ and ‘devout.’_ Not in -inverted commas. p. 93 l. 197 for _what woman_ read _that woman_. p. -95 l. 265 for _than_ read _then_. p. 101 l. 4 for _Or_ read _Could_. -_ib._ a line omitted after ll. 6, 7 and 8 respectively. p. 103 l. 46 -for _Lea_ read _lea_. p. 113 l. 8 for _As You Like It_ read _Much -Ado about Nothing, Act II. Scene 1_. _ib._ l. 11 _Act IV. Scene 3_ -omitted. _ib._ l. 14 for _hence_ read _home_. _ib._ ll. 16-20 ’_Be -the Sweet Helen’s Knell_‘ is printed as immediately preceding the -rest of these lines, instead of following them 28 lines later. For -_He left a wife_ read _He lost a wife_. In the Shakspearean text -these words form the latter part of a line, and are followed by a -line and a half here omitted. p. 116 l. 75 for _beauty bless’d_ read -_beauty-bless’d_. p. 124 after line 3 a line omitted. _ib._ l. 9 for -_sometimes_ read _something_. _ib._ l. 13 for _Measure for Measure, -Act II. Scene 4_ read _Much Ado about Nothing, Act III. Scene 1_. -p. 134 l. 3 for _heavens_ read _heaven_. p. 145 l. 11 for _with purged_ -read _in purged_. p. 159 l. 13 for _upon_ read _of_. _ib._ l. 16 for -_pitiable_ read _pitiful and_. _ib._ l. 17 for _But thou art_ read -_Thou stern_. p. 185 l. 13 for _for it_ read _for ’t_. p. 194 l. 311 -for _dosed_ read _dozed_. p. 211 l. 8 for _in thee_ read _of thee_. -_ib._ l. 12 for _but tyrannous_ read _but it is tyrannous_. p. 228 -ll. 3 and 6 _She_ and _Her_ are substituted for _He_ and _His_ in -the original passage. _ib._ l. 9 for _there is_ read _there’s_. p. -=242= l. 4 for _Taming the Shrew_ read _Taming of the Shrew_. _ib._ -l. 7 for _Act V. Scene 2_ read _Act II. Scene 1_. p. =249= l. 233 -for _has_ read _had_. p. =251= l. 6 for _with my troll-my-dames_ -read _with troll-my-dames_. _ib._ l. 7 for _Scene 2_ read _Scene 3_. -_ib._ l. 9 for _holding_ read _hiding_. p. =253= l. 31 for _of as_ -read _as of_. p. =259= l. 272 for _seems_ read _seemed_. p. =261= -l. 372 for _I boy_ read _I a boy_. p. =264= l. 6 for _practice may_ -read _practices_. _ib._ l. 8 for _with hinds_ read _with his hinds_. -_ib._ l. 12 for _being what_ read _being the thing_. p. =276= l. 10 -for _He has_ read _He is_. p. =308= l. 200 for _know_ read _knew_. p. -=341= l. 298 for _hear_ read _heard_. p. =351= l. 184 for _look’d_ -read _look_. p. =381= l. 344 for _bounded_ read _bonded_. p. =391= -l. 738 for _comfort_ read _comforts_. p. =397= l. 91 for _it_ read -_its_. p. =409= ll. 556-8 three inverted commas, instead of four, -prefixed to each line, and no single inverted comma at the end of -l. 558. p. =413= l. 716 for _parent’s_ read _parents’_. p. =415= l. -807 for _peasant’s_ read _peasants’_. p. =423= l. 116 for _Has_ read -_Had_. p. =449= l. 731 no inverted comma before and after the words -But why delay so long? p. 461 ll. 358-9 no inverted commas prefixed -to these lines, and no inverted comma at the end of l. 359. p. =462= -l. 404 for _bought_ read _brought_. p. =466= l. 567 no inverted -comma at beginning or end of this line. p. =468= l. 636 no third -inverted comma before and after the words _I am this being_. _ib._ -ll. 638-40 no third inverted comma before the word _thus_ in l. 638 -or before ll. 639 and 640 or at the end of l. 640. p. =469= ll. 692-7 -two inverted commas before each of these lines and at the close of -l. 697. p. =470= ll. 714-7 two inverted commas before each of these -lines and at the end of l. 717. p. =478= l. 1054 for _will_ read -_wilt_. - - - - -VARIANTS. - - -=TALES=. Variants in edition of 1812 (first edition), and ‘Original -MS.’ readings given as footnotes in Life and Poems (1834). These -latter are distinguished as ‘O.M.’ - -Preface: p. =5=, l. 1. present Volume. p. =10=, l. 22. Ahitophel. l. -23. Ogg. pp. =10-11=. _instead of_ l. 30-l. 5: - -It has been asked, if Pope was a poet? No one, I conceive, will -accuse me of vanity in bringing forward this query, or suppose me -capable of comparing myself with a man so eminent: but persons very -unlike in other respects may, in one particular, admit of comparison, -or rather the same question may be applied to both. Now, who will -complain that a definition of poetry, which excludes a great part of -the writings of Pope, will shut out him? I do not lightly take up -the idea, but I conceive that by that kind of definition, one half -of our most agreeable English versification (most generally held, by -general readers, to be agreeable and good) will be excluded, and an -equal quantity, at least of very moderate, or, to say truly, of very -wretched composition, will be taken in. (O.M.) - -=Tale 1.= _The edition of 1834 contains the following note to the -Quotations_: These mottoes are many, because there is a reference -in them not only to the characters, but frequently to the incidents -also; and they are all taken from Shakspeare, because I could more -readily find them in his scenes, than in the works of any other poet -to whom I could have recourse. (O.M.) - -l. 310. tyger. l. 371. skulks. - -=Tale 2.= Second Quotation. Hath written. Third Quotation. fire and -flood. _instead of_ ll. 191-4: - - In a clear eve the lover sail’d, and one - As clear and bright on aged Allen shone: - On the spot sanction’d by the last embrace - The old man stood! and sigh’d upon the place. (O.M.) - -_instead of_ ll. 253-274: - - Oft to his children had the father told - Where he resided in the years of old; - When, without thought, his feeling and his pride - The native town adorn’d and magnified; - The streets, the markets, and the quays were all - Spacious and grand, and every building tall: - The tower and church were sea-marks leagues from land-- - Men were amazed to see them look so grand! - His father’s house was then in Allen’s eyes, - But far increased in beauty and in size; - And their small area where the schoolboys play’d, - Room for an army had his fancy made: - But now the dark and feeble mind debased, - Contracted, sullied all that fancy graced, - All spaces dwindled--streets but alleys seem’d: - Then dreamt he now, or absent had he dream’d? - The church itself, the lofty tower, the scene - Of so much glory, was debased and mean: - The mind each object in dull clothing dress’d, - And its own sadness on each scene impress’d. (O.M.) - -=Tale 3.= l. 57. expence. l. 92. indure. _instead of_ ll. 105-7: - - Because in beaten ways we ever tread, - And man by man, as sheep by sheep, is led, - None start aside, but in the paths proceed, (O.M.) - -l. 377. controul. l. 398. controul. l. 502. conns. l. 514. controul. - -=Tale 4.= Third Quotation, sundred. l. 32. teazing. - -=Tale 5.= l. 334. expence. l. 348. extacy. l. 492. teaz’d. l. 662. -controuling. l. 703. curt’sy’d. - -=Tale 6.= First Quotation. curtesy . . . curtesy. Third Quotation. -gig. l. 226. doat. - -=Tale 7.= l. 46. besprinkled. l. 162. rustics. l. 370. needs. - -=Tale 8.= First Quotation. pityless. l. 36. teaze. l. 39. saught. l. -256. controul. l. 325. intranc’d. - -=Tale 9.= l. 15. mamas. l. 32. Montague. l. 55. to his failings -blind. l. 56. the mind. l. 57. pourtray’d. l. 187. we knew not--’twas -her fate. - -=Tale 10.= Third Quotation. this spring. l. 106. dykes. l. 116, note. -Laver. l. 148. Trav’ler. l. 162. Trav’ler’s. l. 211. teiz’d. l. 288. -Trav’ler. l. 321. Trav’ler. l. 349. dykes. l. 354. Trav’ler. - -=Tale 11.= l. 15. Sampson. l. 42. was dignity. l. 127. Africk’s. l. -233, arbor’s. l. 297. bad. - -=Tale 13.= l. 307. Colin. - -=Tale 14.= Fourth Quotation. rooted sinew. l. 89. Who knows?--or -build. l. 352. teaze. l. 377. controul. l. 495, wo. - -=Tale 15.= l. 10. earthy. l. 158. controul. l. 164. conceiving that -the coming day. l. 248. are these sinners. l. 406. temptations. - -=Tale 16.= l. 499. secresy. l. 581. æra. - -=Tale 17.= Third Quotation, l. 3. act of our necessities. l. 139. -controul. l. 299. paniers. l. 409. smoaky. - -=Tale 18.= l. 196. controul. - -=Tale 19.= l. 154. controul. l. 180. controul. - -=Tale 20.= l. 119. expence. l. 132. expence. l. 204. teaz’d. l. 212. -t’excuse it as a woman’s way. - -=Tale 21.= l. 47. teaze. l. 50. controul. l. 53. uncontroul’d. l. -186. tenour. - - -=TALES OF THE HALL. Variants in edition of 1819 (first edition).= - -=‘Original MS.’ readings given as footnotes in Life and Poems -(1834).= These are distinguished as ‘O.M.’ - -=Variants in Crabbe MSS. in the possession of the Cambridge -University Press.= These are distinguished as ‘U.P.’ - -=Variants in Crabbe MSS. in the possession of Mrs Mackay.= These are -distinguished as ‘M.’ - -=Book I.= - -l. 151. inforce. - -=Book II.= - -_Instead of_ ll. 15-20: - - Yet with this difference might observers find - Some kindred powers and features of the mind. - A love of honour in both spirits ruled, - But here by temper, there by trouble cool’d; - Their favourite objects, studies, themes, pursuits, - Had various beauties, merits, ends, and fruits. (O.M.) - -_instead of_ ll. 63-70: - - Joel nor time nor seasons could command, - He took his comforts as they came to hand; - Nor came they often, nor delay’d so long, - That they were habits either weak or strong; - What seem’d habitual was the urgent force - Of stern necessity that shaped his course. (O.M.) - - -=Book III.= - -_Instead of_ ll. 7-14: - - “Oh! there’s a wicked little world in schools, - Where mischief suffers and oppression rules; - Where mild, quiescent children oft endure - What a long placid life shall fail to cure; - Where virtuous boys, who shrink from early sin, - Meet guilty rogues, who love to draw them in, - Who take a pleasure at their just surprise, - Who make them wicked, and proclaim them wise.” (O.M.) - -_instead of_ ll. 23-34: - - “Behold him now, without the least pretence - To such command----behold him five years hence; - Mix’d in the world, his interest in his sight, - How smooth he looks, his language how polite, - No signs of anger, insult, scorn are seen; - The address is mild, the temper is serene; - His fiery passions are resign’d and still, - They yield to reason, or obey his will. - But are they dead?--Not so: should he attain - The wish’d-for fortune, they will live again; - Then shall the Tyrant be once more obey’d, - And all be Fags, whom he can make afraid.” (O.M.) - -_instead of_ ll. 90-7: - - “But when he sits in judgment, and decrees - What men should rule us, and what books should please, - And thus the merit of a critic gains, - Only for blowing out a Frenchman’s brains, - I must demur, and in my mind retrace - The accountant Hector, and his rueful face; - But on he blunders! thinking he is wise, - Who has much strength, no matter where it lies.” (O.M.) - -_instead of_ ll. 192-7: - - “Again was made the offer, and again, - With threats, with noble promises, in vain. - When my Lord saw that nothing could be done, - He nobly cried,--‘I’ll fit him as my son; - Sir, will you go?’ As meekly as a saint, - Charles humbly begg’d to stay on land and paint.” (O.M.) - -_instead of_ ll. 204-29: - - “Stubborn though mild, and fearing to offend, - He gain’d his freedom, and he lost his friend: - My Lord appeal’d to all the world, and cried,-- - ‘There never breathed such stubbornness and pride; - Do what you please, Sir, I am justified.’ - So said my Lord; for he was grieved to find - Such vile ingratitude in base mankind. - “The boy then wrote for bread. I saw him thrice; - His passions placid, he without a vice: - He sometimes painted, but was uninspired - By genius, unprotected, unadmired; - But pensive, sober, diligent, employ’d } - His every hour, his life without a void, } - He sought for little, nothing he enjoy’d. } - I fear he thought himself, because distress’d, - An injured genius, by the world oppress’d.” (O.M.) - -_instead of_ ll. 253-60: - - “Years past away; I think some twenty-five, - Again I saw him, and but just alive, - And still forbidding, silent, sullen, proud, - As one whose claims were just, and not allow’d. - He saw me, saw my sympathy with pain, } - Received my humble offers with disdain, } - And sternly told me not to come again.” } (O.M.) - -_instead of_ ll. 296-301: - - “Thou, Charles! unaided by a noble friend, - Hadst spent a careful life, as others spend; - But when thy patron’s vanity and thine - Were made by cruel fortune to combine, - ’Twas then th’ unhappy wretch was lifted high - On golden stilts, and seem’d to touch the sky; - But when the tempter hand withdraws the props, - The vision closes, and the victim drops.” (O.M.) - - -_instead of_ ll. 362-87: - - “The boy was tall, but with a mincing air, - Blue, languid eyes, pale cheek, and flaxen hair; - His temper fretful, but his spirits mild, } - Loved by mamma, by all her maidens styled } - The wittiest darling, and the sweetest child. } - In those dear times, when that mamma had rule, - There was much play, few lessons, and no school; - But, oh! misfortune--when the lady died, - No second wife her honour’d place supplied, - But one dishonour’d; and she quickly sent - All who had grief to grieve in banishment: - No longer now was there the rush of joy, - The flood of fondness o’er the happy boy; - No more indulgence by the maidens shown, - For master’s pleasure, purchase of their own; - But they as spies were to new service sent, - And the sad boy to school and banishment.” (O.M.) - - -Book IV. - -_Instead of_ ll. 3-22: - - “Brother,” said George, “when I beheld you last, - The time how distant!--Well! the time is past-- - I had not then these comforts you behold, - Things that amuse us when we’re getting old. - These Pictures now! experienced men will say, - They’re genuine all, and so perhaps they may; - They cost the money, that I’m sure is true, - And therefore, Richard, I will say it too. - Music you find; for hither ladies come; - They make infernal uproar in the room. - I bear it. Why? because I must expect - To pay for honour, and I fear neglect. - And if attraction from your person flies, - You must some pleasure from your purse devise: - But this apart--the triflers should not know - That they can comfort or regret bestow.” (O.M.) - - -_instead of_ ll. 76-7: - - “That gun itself, that breaks upon the ear, - Has something suited to the dying year.” - “The dying partridge!” cried, with much disdain, - Th’ offended ’Squire--“Our laws are made in vain: - The country, Richard, would not be amiss, - But for these plagues, and villanies like this; - Wealth breeds the curse that fixes on the land, - And strife and heritage go hand in hand.” (O.M.) - -_instead of_ ll. 88-130: - - They walk’d along, through mead and shaded wood, - And stubble ground, where late abundance stood, - And in the vale, where winter waters glide, - O’er pastures stretching up the mountain side. - With a shrewd smile, but mix’d with look severe, - The landlord view’d the promise of the year. - “See! that unrivall’d flock! they, they alone - Have the vast body on the slender bone; - They are the village boast, the country’s theme, - Fleece of such staple! flesh in such esteem!” - Richard gave praise, but not in rapturous style; - He chose his words, and spoke them with a smile: - “Brother,” said he, “and if I take you right, - I am full glad--these things are your delight; - I see you proud, but,”--speaking half aside-- - “Is, now, the pleasure equal to the pride?” - A transient flush on George’s face appear’d, - Cloudy he look’d, and then his looks were cleared: - “Look at yon hind!” said he,--“in very deed, - His is the pride and pleasure in the breed; - He has delight, he judges--I the name, - And the whole praise--I speak it to my shame. - Oh! Richard, Richard, tell me, if you can, - What will engage and fix the mind of man?” - “Suppose,” said he, “we look about the green, } - In yonder cots some objects may be seen, } - T’ excite our pity, or relieve our spleen,” } - “Oh! they are thieves and blockheads,” George replied, - “Unjust, ungrateful, and unsatisfied; - To grasp at all, their study, thought, and care, - All would be thieves and plunderers, if they dare; - His envious nature not a clown conceals, - But bluntly shows the insolence he feels.” - “And whence,” said Richard, “should the vice proceed, - But from their want of knowledge, and their need? - Let them know more, or let them better feel, - And I’ll engage they’ll neither threat nor steal.” - “Brother,” said George, “your pity makes you blind - To all that’s vile and odious in mankind; - ’T is true your notions may appear divine, - But for their justice--let us go and dine.” (O.M.) - - -=Book V.= - -l. 182. woe. l. 415. controul. - - -=Book VI.= - -_The Book opens:_ - - The evening came: “My Brother, what employs - Thy mind?” said Richard; “what disturbs thy joys? - Hast thou not all the good the world can give, - And liv’st a life that kings might sigh to live? - Can nothing please thee? Thou wert wont to seize - On passing themes, and make the trifles please. - Thy Muse has many a pleasant fancy bred, - And clothed in lively manner!----is she dead?” - “Not dead but sick, and I too weary grow - Of reaping nothing from the things I sow. - What is the pleasure--thou perhaps canst say-- - Of playing tunes, if none can hear thee play? - Timid and proud, the world I cannot court, - Nor show my labours for the critic’s sport. - Hast thou the courage, Richard? hast thou tried - An Author’s perils? hast thou felt his pride? - For vain the efforts, and they quickly tire, - If we alone our precious things admire.” - “Not so,” said Richard, and acquired a look - That some expression from his feelings took; - “Oh! my dear Brother, if this Muse of mine, - Who prompts the idle thought, the trifling line, - If she who calmly looks around, nor more - Muse of the Mad, the Foolish, and the Poor, - If she can pleasure--and she can--impart, - Can wing the fancy, can enlarge the heart; - What must a Muse of strength, of force, of fire, - In the true Poet’s ample mind inspire? - What must he feel, who can the soul express - Of saint or hero?--he must be no less. - Nor less of evil minds he knows the pain, - But quickly lost the anguish and the stain, - While with the wisest, happiest, purest, best, - His soul assimilates and loves to rest. - Crowns would I spurn, and empires would I lose, - For inspiration from the sacred Muse.” - “A song,” said George, “and I my secret store, - Confined in dust and darkness, will explore. - Poet with poet, bard and critic too, - We fear no censure, and dread no review. - A judge so placed must be to errors kind, - And yield the mercy that he hopes to find; - Begin then, Richard, put thy fears aside; } - Shall I condemn, who must myself be tried? } - In me at least my Brother may confide. } - In hope of wearing, I shall yield the bays, - And my self-love shall give my rival praise.” (O.M.) - -_instead of_ ll. 18-30: - - “Wilt thou explain? I shall not grieve to share - A lover’s sorrow, or a husband’s care?” - Kindness like this had moved a sterner man, - Richard much more. He smiled, and thus began:-- - “No more I loved the sea; that plunge had tamed - My blood, by youth in idleness inflamed: - To my affairs I forced my mind t’ attend, - And sought the town to counsel with a friend. - Much we debated--Could I now resign - My earthly views, and look to things divine? - Could I to merchandise my mind persuade, - And wait in patience for the gain of trade? - Or if I could not early habits quit, - Had I a stock, and could subsist on wit? - “Measures like these became my daily themes, - My airy castles, my projector’s dreams. - But health, so long neglected, now became - No more the blessing of my failing frame: - A fever seized it, of that dangerous kind, - That while it taints the blood, infects the mind. - I traced her flight as Reason slowly fled, - And her last act assured me Hope was dead: - But Reason err’d, and when she came again - To aid the senses and direct the brain, - She found a body weak, but well disposed - For life’s enjoyments, and the grave was closed. - But danger past, and my recovery slow, } - I sought the health that mountain gales bestow, } - And quiet walks where peace and violets grow. } - “Now, my dear Brother, when the languid frame - Has this repose, and when the blood is tame, - Yet strength increasing, and when every hour - Gives some increase of pleasure and of power, - When every sense partakes of fresh delight, - And every object wakes an appetite; - When the mind rests not, but for ever roves - On all around, and as it meets approves; - Then feels the heart its bliss, that season then is love. - “Think of me thus disposed, and think me then - Retired from crowded streets and busy men, - In a neat cottage, by the sweetest stream - That ever warbled in a poet’s dream; - An ancient wood behold, so vast, so deep, - That hostile armies might in safety sleep, - Where loving pairs had no observers near, - And fearing not themselves, had none to fear; - There to fair walks, fresh meadows, and clear skies, - I fled as flee the weary and the wise.” (O.M.) - -_instead of_ ll. 174-5: - - “With whom she tarried, a delighted guest! - Delightful ever! blessing still and bless’d.” (O.M.) - -l. 359. woe. - - -=Book VII=. - -_Instead of_ ll. 533-4: - - And thus she said, and with an air designed - To look and be affectionate and kind. (U.P.) - -l. 551. woe. _instead of_ ll. 593-8: - - Come, my dear Friend, discard that Brow of Care: - What was at first intended all things are; - All by the mighty Cause for bliss designed - The only good of Matter and in Mind. - So was I taught by one who taught me all - That I the first and only good can call! (U.P.) - -_instead of_ ll. 601-2; - - I meant again, in spite of every Cow, - To pass that way and hear my Shepherd’s Vow. (U.P.) - -_after_ l. 625: - - When the sun is descended the moon will arise; - And sweeter her softer and mellower Ray, - When the blossom no longer is fair in our Eyes, - The Fruit will enlarge and our losses repay; - And when from the cheek the young Roses decay, - Tis a Sign that the Fire is collected within: - No longer for Boys the light flower to display, - But manly Affections to wake and to win. (U.P.) - -_instead of_ ll. 626-41: - - My Damon was the first to wake - The Flame that slept but cannot die; - My Damon is the last to take - The best the truest softest Sigh. - - The Life between is nothing worth: - O! cast it all as vile away. - Save the sweet Day that gave it Birth, - And this a fonder happier Day. - - O tell me not what I have done, - When there is so much done amiss; - For who can fate and madness shun - In such bewildering World as this? - - Love can a thousand Faults forgive, - Or with a tender Smile reprove; - And now let nought in Memory live, - But that we meet and that we love. (U.P.) - -_instead of_ ll. 664-7: - - Were you not Witness how I blossomed then, - Blushing and blooming in the Eyes of Men; - Made by one sex a Goddess, and denied - Respect and notice by the other’s Pride? (U.P.) - -_instead of_ ll. 682-91: - - Is it not written, he who came to save - The adultress [ ] of her Crime forgave; - Would the lost sheep all graciously restore, - And bade the weeping Sinner sin no more? - Yes, this is true, but where the Eye that reads - The broken Spirit or the Heart that bleeds? - But where the Heart that could the Deed deplore, - And where the Hand that would the Mind restore; - That could the sinful Soul on trust receive - And, tho’ all urged against Belief, believe? (U.P.) - -_instead of_ ll. 702-9: - - With Spirits low and ill-directed Mind - She soon her [ ] of penitence resigned; - And rushed again into the World, prepar’d - To do whatever thoughtless Frenzy dared. - And so she perished! - Nay! while yet disposed - T’ enjoy the world, the world’s adventures closed. (U.P.) - -_instead of_ ll. 736-7: - - To save from sin the long expected pay, - And call hence Souls whose bodies waste away. (U.P.) - -_instead of_ ll. 742-3: - - And I a fellow sinner! who enquired - If ought beside the feeble Heart required - Was by, to watch the Dawn of Hope, to cheer - The drooping Spirit, and to prove how dear - The [Loving] Soul may be whose Turning is sincere. (U.P.) - -_instead of_ l. 751: - - To think for what was formed this Creature Man! (U.P.) - -_instead of_ l. 757: - - Gold, to enlarge the Treasures that abound. (U.P.) - -_after_ l. 766: - - I shuddered, R[ichard], at the general View-- - The Work undone--What yet I had to do! (U.P.) - -l. 781. woe. l. 782. woe. l. 789. woe. - - -Book VIII. - -_Variant of_ ll. 33-67: - - The Brothers’ Subject on their Morning Ride - Was, as it chanced, the Misery of Pride! - - * * * * * - - [illegible attempts.] - The very Virtues suffer! and but few - Altho’ unshamed bear Want and pity too. - This is the Serpent Poverty that Stings! - And Wealth, thus flying, certain misery brings. - - * * * * * - - The Wretched then the common fate deplore - And mourn Enjoyments that return no more. - They who so dearly loved in happier times - Doubt the tried Worth; their Sorrows are their Crimes. - They spoil the Temper; they disturb the rest; - Men fly the Scold, the Comforter, the Guest. (M.) - -_instead of_ ll. 48-53: - - “Oh! that we had the virtuous pride to show - We know ourselves what all about us know; - Nor, when our board contains a single dish, - Tell lying tales of market-men and fish! - We know ’tis hard from higher views to fall-- - What is not hard when life is trial all?” (O.M.) - -_after_ l. 67: - - “But I digress, dear Richard, who despise - Tellers of tales, who stop and moralize; - As some good editors of Esop used - Their privilege, and readers’ sense abused: - Who half a page to write their fable took, - And just a page and half to swell their book. - But to that gentle being I return, - And, as I treat of patience, let me learn.” (O.M.) - -_instead of_ ll. 106-7: - - “Like Saul’s fair daughters, as by Cowley sung; - Not from a monarch, but a yeoman sprung.” (O.M.) - -_after_ l. 113: - - Who gazed at Jane saw Wonder and Delight; - Who looked on Lucy blessd the pleasing Sight. - - * * * * * - - The Air of Lucy her Admirers held - In pleasing Bondage; that of Jane repell’d. (M.) - -_after_ l. 119: - - Lucy not often could those Looks command, - But had the sober praise and offered Hand; - For those who breathed for Jane those Sighs of fire - Asked not their Reason, What do I desire? - While Lucy’s Lovers felt the Wishes rise - And could explain the purport of their Sighs. - In future day one spake how Friendships please, - And one, a Lover, whom we charm and teize; - And then began the speech of Jane to raise - Men’s awe, and Lucy’s to obtain their praise. (M.) - -_instead of_ ll. 196-207: - - Now Lucy’s Lover was a plain good Man, - Who meant to marry on a saving Plan. - Jane is perhaps the prettier one to view, - He judged; but [has] the Keener Judgment too; - And, if her Eye be more than Lucy’s bright, - And beams upon you with a fiercer Light, - A face may be admired; but, put the Case - A Man shall marry, what avails a face? - A Wife that[’s] pretty her Conditions makes; - A Wife that[’s] prudent rather gives than takes. - Beauty will cost require and Wealth command, - But there is Safety in a closing Hand; - And what if Lucy to the needy sends - Too great a portion and the deed defends, - That ’tis her own; there’s prudence in the Words - That will preserve the Good that is her Lord’s. - Besides, there’s not a Virtue we possess - So soon restrain’d as giving to distress; - And, then, a rival makes a woman nice, - And Jane’s admirer will enhance her price. - Thus, thinking but concealing what he thought, - This cautious Lover Lucy’s favour sought. (M.) - -_after_ l. 231: - - Or why the Fear? and all that seemed so good - Was only Slyness rightly understood; - Then, too, his father living held the Son - From the sad Course he was disposed to run. (M.) - -_instead of_ ll. 255-8: - - “Near to the village, where they now abide, - In their own style--the vulgar call it pride-- - Dwelt the fair sisters: good they were and kind, - That prying scandal scarce could error find-- - And candour none--they spent, they spared, they gave - Just as they ought to give, to spare, to save; - Like two queen-myrtles in an arbour’s side, - So they abode, and so might still abide, - But for a blight! it wounds me at the heart, - That I have grief and anguish to impart.” (O.M.) - -l. 287. alchemist. _after_ l. 419: - - “Thus fill’d with fear, that evening they attend - To his last home an ancient village-friend; - And they, reflecting on the old man’s days, - Who living had their love, and now their praise-- - That good old man, with so much native sense, - Such health and ease, such hope with competence: - They could but own, if such should be their lot, - They should be thankful!--It, alas! was not.” (O.M.) - -l. 550. ecstacy. _after_ l. 824: - - “I read your looks, my Brother, you would give - Largely to these--they should in comfort live, - Nor labour thus; but you would find it hard - To gain assent: professions they regard - As their experience bids them, and they run - From ready love, as they would treachery shun; - Yet have I woo’d them long, and they attend - With growing trust--they treat me as a friend, - And talk of my probation; but, afraid, - They take my counsel, but refuse my aid.” (O.M.) - - -=Book IX=. - -_Instead of_ ll. 150-5: - - “The weeks fled smoothly, five or six, before, - Bless’d in the present, he could think of more. - Two months beside were at his villa spent, } - Where first enraptured, he became content; } - Then went to town, scarce knowing why he went. } - His lady with him, as a wife should be-- - Talk of a moon of honey! there were three.” (O.M.) - -_instead of_ ll. 176-7: - - “For pairs not loving, cannot music find, - And loving pairs have music in the mind.” (O.M.) - - -=Book XI=. - -_The Book opens_: - - That gentle Spinster, whom our Squire approved - So well, they judged aright who said he loved; - Though, when they thought to what the love would lead, - They err’d--for neither would so far proceed. - This Maiden Lady, to her promise just, - Gave them her story.--She could safely trust - Her neighbours both: the one she long had known, - The other kindness and respect had shown. - Frankly not fearless, from her early youth, - She gave her tale, nor would disguise a truth; - Timid in places, and with some restraint, - But still resolved the very facts to paint, - With plaintive smile she prefaced what she spoke, - And the Friends listen’d with attentive look. (O.M.) - -_after_ l. 67: - - “Think not of love! it is a chance indeed, - When love and prudence side by side proceed. - Nay, when they do, I doubtfully approve-- - Love baffles prudence--Oh! beware of love.” (O.M.) - -_variant of_ ll. 109-32: - - He knew that Girls had heard that youth is bold, - And he would show how youthful were the old. - - * * * * * - - He knew the Vices that the youthful boast, - And he desired to show the form and Ghost - Of naked Evil, rob’d of every Grace - That could our Anger or Contempt displace-- - Not as the drunken Slave to make me think - How odious Vice, but hoping I should drink. - - * * * * * - - Repelled awhile, he answered, Did you drive - A Charge so precious, fear would be alive. (U.P.) - -_instead of_ ll. 150-1: - - He said that Beauty now would scarcely sell; - The drug was plenteous, and the Market fell. (U.P.) - -_after_ l. 163: - - And the weak side of woman--but he spied, - So it appeared to me, the viler side. (U.P.) - -_instead of_ ll. 164-5: - - And all that this superior knowledge meant - Was to delude the weak and innocent. (U.P.) - -_variant of_ ll. 190-221: - - My Mother too seemed now disposed to try - A Life of Reason and Tranquillity; - She had till lately health and Spirits kept; - She ate in Comfort, and in Quiet slept. - But our late Subject was a kind that fills - The Mind, and poison in the Heart instills. - For five and forty years my Mother bore - Her Placid Looks, and Dress becoming wore; - She would a Compliment with pleasure take - That no undue Impression seemed to make; - But now her Nerves became disturbed and weak, - And we must Aid from a Physician seek: - A Scotch Physician, who had just began - To settle here--a very handsome Man, - And very wise, for I with Lovers twain - Was in his eye a very Child again; - While my dear Mother, twenty years a Wife, - Was to decide the Fortune of his life; - And she decided---In a general way - Mama her power was willing to display. - - * * * * * - - But now like Monarch weary of a Throne - She would no longer reign, at least alone! - She held her pulse, and with a Look so sweet - Gave him to feel how softly they could beat. (U.P.) - -_after_ l. 227: - - It was reported, nay it was believed - That both the wary parties were deceived; - For both had learnt the wicked world to cheat - And be a match for all its vile Deceit. (U.P.) - -_instead of_ ll. 323-5: - - Was just his present purpose to pursue, - Send him to college and there let him learn - To live, and to his numerous brothers turn! (U.P.) - -_variant of_ ll. 336-7: - - In fact our hearts we gave as Lovers give - Before we asked if we as Men could live. - I lov’d the Youth, nor had I doubts that he } - Had tender thoughts and faithful Hopes like me, } - And, as our Love was now, so would it ever be. } (U.P.) - -_instead of_ l. 410: - - Were placed our yellow plates of Stafford Ware. (U.P.) - -_instead of_ ll. 433-4: - - While Biddy slept, upon a Bed so hard - And coarse, I laid and was of Sleep debarred. (U.P.) - -_instead of_ ll. 508-14: - - And what, as armed with right and power they asked, - Are your Soul’s Contests? and their own unmasked. - Confessing thoughts so strange and views so wild - I thought them Dreams, or fancies of a Child - Could she, they ask, her best attempts condemn, } - And did she long to touch the Garment’s hem, } - And was it so with her, for so it was with them?} (U.P.) - -_instead of_ ll. 517-26: - - My Mother kindly lent her teachers Aid - To win the Soul of her deluded maid; - I was compelled her female friends to hear, - But suffer’d not one bearded teacher near; - Tho’ more than one attempted with their whine - And ‘Sister! Sister!’ turn to love divine; - But my contending Spirit to direct - Was what I vow’d no Brother should effect; - But O! their Preacher, would I could receive - His precious dropping of the Dew at Eve! (U.P.) - -_instead of_ ll. 533-6: - - But soon appear’d and spoke in mode correct, - With all the cold dead freedom of the Sect; - Of his Conversion with conceit he spoke - Before he orders from his Bishop took. (U.P.) - -_after_ l. 548: - - He then with self-applause his valour told - And how his boyish Love for me grew cold. (U.P.) - -_instead of_ ll. 566-9: - - On Sidmouth terrace pace at morn and noon, - Or view from Dawlish rocks the full-orb’d moon, - At Exmouth beacon the far bay explore, } - Or quiet sit at Teignmouth’s pebbly shore; } - These scenes are lovely all, and will your peace restore. } (O.M.) - -_instead of_ ll. 574-87: - - Dear scenes of social comfort, friendly ease, - The power of pleasing, the delight to please; - When friends agreed the views around t’ explore, - When sympathising minds exchanged their store; - When fear was banish’d, and no form desired, - But such as decency and sense required; - When each in meeting wore the looks that make - Such strong impression, and preclude mistake; - When looks, and words, and manner all declare - What hearts, and thoughts, and dispositions are-- - In fact, when we in various modes express } - That we are happy all! all answer yes! } - This is indeed approach to perfect happiness. } - Dear objects! scatter’d in the world around, - Whom do ye gladden? where may ye be found? - Ye who excited joy by day, by night, - Ye who delighted to dispense delight, - Ye who to please the sadden’d temper strove, - Who, when ye loved not, show’d the effect of love, - Ye who are blessings wheresoe’er ye dwell, - Accept the wishes of a long farewell! (O.M.) - -_instead of_ ll. 600-1: - - “No, I confess, there was a proneness yet - To think with foolish fondness and regret.” (U.P.) - -_variant of_ ll. 620-38: - - Are we not good, benevolent and just; - Must not all love us? We are sure they must. - Are we not read in works of every kind; - Are we not prudent, rational, refined; - Are not our thoughts correct, our words discreet, } - And our Life void of folly, fraud, deceit; } - And where can we on Earth a purer Spirit meet? } - Here the Heart ceased; I answer’d to the Heart: - A vile Deceiver, and a vain, thou art. - First, thy Religion I can plainly see - Wants the first requisite--Humility. - We are so pure, the humble mind’s [resource], - Truth and Repentance, we may drop of course, - And with the gallant Frenchman at the Cry - Of the last Day say boldly, here am I! (U.P.) - -_variant of_ ll. 649-52: - - What is the good that thy whole life has done - Compared with her one day, a single one? (O.M.) - -_variant of_ ll. 692-7: - - The tears of tender Souls which for him fell, } - And strong Persuasion, Brother! all is well. } - Tarry, and Heav’n is thine; depart, and there is hell.-- } - So I from frenzy’s Zeal and folly’s Creed - Was by Exertion and Discretion freed. (U.P.) - -_variant of_ ll. 712-20: - - Still he would come, and talk as idlers do } - Both of his old opinions and his new; } - For now he was convinced that nothing could be true. } - Barriers so strong against all Truth were placed - That by the wise no Tenet was embraced. - This was religion here that there was spurned; - Then how could Truth be anywhere discerned? - Her as a mistress Men indeed pursue } - In Chace for ever, never in their view; } - And who shall dare affirm that anything is true? } (U.P.) - -_variant of_ ll. 816-27: - - But in that world the faithful Youth shall view - One like himself, as generous and as true. - Such our Discourse; but, growing more refin’d, - And suited only to a Soul resigned-- - For she would far in her fair View proceed - And as I could, I doubted or agreed-- - I asked if Lovers took the wiser Way - Who to their Death their Union would delay, - For fear that Marriage should the Vision spoil - And the pure pleasure of the fancy soil? (U.P.) - -_variant of_ ll. 834-49: - - And all betrayed a Man who had of Gold a store. - The comely Man moved, onward, and a pair - Of comely Maidens waited, with an Air - Of Doubt, till one exclaim’d with Voice profound, - And, O! ’tis Henry, dropt upon the Ground. - But she recovered, and, I pray you, guess - What then ensued and how much Happiness. - Just as the Lover chanc’d his Home to find, - The Lady fixed on other home her Mind; - They parted Lovers who were grieved to part; - They met as Neighbours! heal’d was either heart. - Each on the others Looks could raptured dwell, - They now could say, You look extremely well. - She had prepared in some blessed world to meet; - The Knight, of purchasing a snug Retreat, - In this and there in good Regard to live: - Among their Friends ’twas all it now could give. (U.P.) - -_variant of_ ll. 864-75: - - What Time has done, gross food and vulgar Trade - Has all impaired that Love and Nature made. - I cannot take him--I my Friend approved, - Who dare refuse when she no longer loved. - But he was loud and loving, fierce and free, - And weak and timid vain and grateful She. - Thus sundry motives more than I can name - Rose on his side, and she a Wife became. (U.P.) - -_instead of_ ll. 890-3: - - Yet his the Comfort of an Heart that feels - A single day, and that the morrow heals; - And yet he grieved a while, and he would weep, - And swear profusely I had murdered sleep; - Had quite unman’d him for heroic Vein, - And he could only murmur and complain. (U.P.) - -_variant of_ ll. 903-4: - - Yet e’er we parted he his Prayer renewed, - And urged me “Do not live in Solitude! - Wert thou my Lady to the Study take - O! what a Desdemona wouldst thou make.” (U.P.) - -_after_ l. 904: - - And then he spouted--till I cried, Is he - The man I loved? Oh! that could never be. - No! time upon the outward beauty preys, - And the mind’s beauty in its vice decays. (O.M.) - -_instead of_ ll. 910-2: - - But that he lost, and with a wither’d hand. - Stood at his father’s gate, as beggars stand; - But his were jealous brethren, and they kept - Their dying father from him, till he slept. (O.M.) - -_instead of_ ll. 926-8: - - And no Adventure marked the waste of Years; - I thought me past them, but I met with one, - A call to Folly e’er the pasts were done. (U.P.) - - - - -VARIANTS. VOL. I. ADDENDA. - - -=THE LIBRARY=. ‘Original MS.’ readings given as footnotes Life and -Poems (1834). - -_After_ l. 4: - - Where can the wretched lose their cares, and hide - The tears of sorrow from the eyes of pride? - Can they in silent shades a refuge find - From all the scorn and malice of mankind? - From wit’s disdain, and wealth’s provoking sneer, } - From folly’s grin, and humour’s stupid leer, } - And clamour’s iron tongue, censorious and severe? } - There can they see the scenes of nature gay, - And shake the gloomy dreams of life away? - Without a sigh, the hope of youth give o’er, - And with aspiring honour climb no more. - Alas! we fly to peaceful shades in vain; - Peace dwells within, or all without is pain: - No storm-tost sailor sighs for slumbering seas-- - He dreads a tempest, but desires a breeze. - The placid waves with silent swell disclose - A clearer view, and but reflect his woes. - So life has calms, in which we only see - A fuller prospect of our misery. - When the sick heart, by no design employ’d, - Throbs o’er the past, or suffer’d, or enjoy’d, - In former pleasures finding no relief, - And pain’d anew in every former grief. - Can friends console us when our cares distress, - Smile on our woes, and make misfortunes less? - Alas! like winter’d leaves, they fall away, - Or more disgrace our prospects by delay; - The genial warmth, the fostering sap is past, - That kept them faithful, and that held them fast. - Where shall we fly?--to yonder still retreat, - The haunt of Genius and the Muses’ seat, - Where all our griefs in others’ strains rehearse, - Speak with old Time, and with the dead converse; - Till Fancy, far in distant regions flown, - Adopts a thousand schemes, and quits her own; - Skims every scene, and plans with each design, - Towers in each thought, and lives in every line; - From clime to clime with rapid motion flies, - Weeps without woe, and without sorrow sighs; - To all things yielding, and by all things sway’d, - To all obedient, and by all obey’d; - The source of pleasures, noble and refined, - And the great empress of the Poet’s mind. - Here led by thee, fair Fancy, I behold - The mighty heroes, and the bards of old! - For here the Muses sacred vigils keep, - And all the busy cares of being sleep; - No monarch covets war, nor dreams of fame, - No subject bleeds to raise his tyrant’s name, - No proud great man, or man that would be great, - Drives modest merit from its proper state, - Nor rapine reaps the good by labour sown, - Nor envy blasts a laurel, but her own. - Yet Contemplation, silent goddess, here, - In her vast eye, makes all mankind appear, - All Nature’s treasures, all the stores of Art, - That fire the fancy, or engage the heart, - The world’s vast views, the fancy’s wild domain, - And all the motley objects of the brain: - Here mountains hurl’d on mountains proudly rise, - Far, far o’er Nature’s dull realities; - Eternal verdure decks a sacred clime, - Eternal spring for ever blooms in rhyme, - And heroes honour’d for imputed deeds, - And saints adored for visionary creeds, - Legends and tales, and solitude and sighs, - Poor doating dreams, and miserable lies, - The empty bubbles of a pensive mind, - And Spleen’s sad effort to debase mankind. - Here Wonder gapes at Story’s dreadful page, - And Valour mounts by true poetic rage, - And Pity weeps to hear the mourning maid, - And Envy saddens at the praise convey’d. - Devotion kindles at the pious strain, - And mocks the madness of the fool’s disdain: - Here gentle Delicacy turns her eye - From the loose page, and blushes her reply, - Alone, unheeded, calls her soul to arms, - Fears every thought, and flies from all alarms. - Pale Study here, to one great point resign’d; - Derides the various follies of mankind; - As distant objects sees their several cares, - And with his own their trifling work compares; - But still forgets like him men take their view, - And near their own, his works are trifling too:-- - So suns and planets scarcely fill the eye - When earth’s poor hills and man’s poor huts are nigh; - But, were the eye in airy regions tost, - The world would lessen, and her hills be lost; - And were the mighty orbs above us known, - No world would seem so trifling as our own. - Here looking back, the wond’ring soul surveys - The sacred relics of departed days, - Where grace, and truth, and excellence reside, - To claim our praise, and mortify our pride; - Favour’d by fate, our mighty fathers found - The virgin Muse, with every beauty crown’d: - They woo’d and won; and, banish’d their embrace, - She comes a harlot to their feebler race: - Deck’d in false taste, with gaudy shows of art - She charms the eye, but touches not the heart; - By thousands courted, but by few caress’d, - False when pursued, and fatal when possess’d. - From hence we rove, with Fancy for our guide, - O’er this wide world, and other worlds more wide, - Where other suns their vital power display, - And round revolving planets dart the day; - Where comets blaze, by mortals unsurvey’d, - And stray where Galileo never stray’d; - Where God himself conducts each vast machine, - Uncensured by mankind, because unseen. - Here, too, we trace the varied scenes of life, - The tyrant husband, the retorting wife, - The hero fearful to appear afraid, - The thoughts of the deliberating maid; - The snares for virtue, and the turns of fate, - The lie of trade, and madness of debate; - Here force deals death around, while fools applaud, - And caution watches o’er the lips of fraud; - Whate’er the world can show, here scorn derides, - And here suspicion whispers what it hides-- - The secret thought, the counsel of the breast, - The coming news, and the expected jest. . . . - High panegyric, in exalted style, - That smiles for ever, and provokes a smile, - And Satire, with her fav’rite handmaids by-- - Here loud abuse, there simpering irony. . . . - All now display’d, without a mask are known, - And every vice in nature, but our own. - Yet Pleasure too, and Virtue, still more fair, - To this blest seat with mutual speed repair; - The social sweets in life’s securer road, - Its bliss unenvied, its substantial good, - The happy thought that conscious virtue gives, - And all that ought to live, and all that lives. - -_after_ l. 104: - - Maxims I glean, of mighty pith and force, - And moral themes to shine in a discourse, - But, tired with these, I take a lighter train, - Tuned to the times, impertinent and vain. - The tarts which wits provide for taste decay’d, - And syllabubs by frothy witlings made, - An easy, idle, thoughtless, graceless throng, - Pun, jest, and quibble, epigram and song, - Trifles to which declining genius bends, - And steps by which aspiring wit ascends. - Now sad and slow, with cautious step I tread, - And view around the venerable dead; - For where in all her walks shall study seize - Such monuments of human state as these? - -_after_ l. 430: - - “Ah! happy age,” the youthful poet cries, - “Ere laws arose--ere tyrants bade them rise; - No land-marks then the happy swain beheld, - Nor lords walk’d proudly o’er the furrow’d field; - Nor through distorted ways did Avarice roam, - To fetch delights for Luxury at home: - But mutual joy the friends of Nature proved, - And swains were faithful to the nymphs they loved.” - “Mistaken bards! all nations first were rude; - Man! proud, unsocial, prone to solitude: - O’er hills, or vales, or floods, was fond to roam-- - The mead his garden, and the rock his home: - For flying prey he searched a savage coast-- - Want was his spur, and liberty his boast.” - -_after_ l. 570: - - Ah! lost, for ever lost, to me these charms, - These lofty notions and divine alarms, - Too dearly bought--maturer judgment calls - My pensive soul from tales and madrigals-- - For who so blest or who so great as I, - Wing’d round the globe with Rowland or Sir Guy? - Alas! no more I see my queen repair - To balmy bowers that blossom in the air, - Where on their rosy beds the Graces rest, - And not a care lies heavy on the breast. - No more the hermit’s mossy cave I choose, - Nor o’er the babbling brook delight to muse; - My doughty giants all are slain or fled, - And all my knights--blue, green, and yellow--dead! - Magicians cease to charm me with their art, - And not a griffin flies to glad my heart. - No more the midnight fairy tribe I view, - All in the merry moonshine tippling dew. - The easy joys that charm’d my sportive youth, - Fly Reason’s power, and shun the voice of Truth. - Maturer thoughts severer taste prepares, - And baffles every spell that charm’d my cares. - Can Fiction, then, the noblest bliss supply, - Or joy reside in inconsistency? - -_after_ l. 594: - - But who are these, a tribe that soar above, - And tell more tender tales of modern love? - A NOVEL train! the brood of old Romance, - Conceived by Folly on the coast of France, - That now with lighter thought, and gentler fire, - Usurp the honours of their drooping sire; - And still fantastic, vain, and trifling, sing - Of many a soft and inconsistent thing,-- - Of rakes repenting, clogg’d in Hymen’s chain-- - Of nymph reclined by unpresuming swain-- - Of captains, colonels, lords, and amorous knights, - That find in humbler nymphs such chaste delights, - Such heavenly charms, so gentle, yet so gay, - That all their former follies fly away. - Honour springs up, where’er their looks impart - A moment’s sunshine to the harden’d heart-- - A virtue, just before the rover’s jest, - Grows like a mushroom in his melting breast. - Much, too, they tell of cottages and shades, - Of balls, and routs, and midnight masquerades, - Where dangerous men and dangerous mirth reside, - And Virtue goes--on purpose to be tried. - These are the tales that wake the soul to life, - That charm the sprightly niece and forward wife, - That form the manners of a polish’d age, - And each pure easy moral of the Stage. - Thus to her friend the ever-faithful she-- - The tender Delia--writes, securely free-- - Delia from school was lately bold to rove, - Where yet Lucinda meditated love. - “Oh thou, the partner of my pensive breast, - And, but for one! its most delightful guest, - But for that one of whom ’twas joy to talk, - When the chaste moon gleam’d o’er our ev’ning walk, - And cooing fondly in the neighbouring groves - The pretty songsters all enjoy’d their loves; - Receive! as witness all ye powers! I send, - With melting heart, this token of thy friend. - “Calm was the night! and every breeze was low; - Swift ran the stream--but, ah! the moments slow! - Fly swift, ye moments! slowly run, thou stream, - And on thy margin let a maiden dream. - “Methought he came, my Harry, young and gay, - The very youth that stole my heart away. - I wake. Surprise! yet guess how blest was I! - With looks of love--the very youth was by. - ‘Whose is that form my Delia’s bosom hides? - What youth divinely blest within presides?’ - He spoke and sigh’d. His sighs my fear supprest, - He seized his angel form, and actions spoke the rest. - “Oh, Virtue! brighter than the noon-tide ray! - Still guide my steps, and guide them nature’s way; - With sacred precepts fill the youthful mind, - Soothe all its cares, and force it to be kind.” - Thus, gentle passions warm the generous maid, - No more reluctant, and no more afraid; - Thus Virtue shines, and in her loveliest dress - Not over nice, nor Virtue to excess. - Near these I look, and lo! a reptile race, - In goodly vests conceal the want of grace; - The brood of Humour, Fancy, Frolic, Fun, - The tale obscene, the miserable pun; - The jest that Laughter loves, he knows not why, - And Whim tells quaintly with distorted eye. - Here Languor, yawning, pays his first devoirs, - And skims sedately o’er his dear Memoirs; - Here tries his tedious moments to employ, - And, palsied by enjoyment, dreams of joy; - From all the tribe his little knowledge steals, - From dull “Torpedoes,” and “Electric Eels;” - And every trifle of a trifling age, - That shames the closet, or degrades the Stage. - -_after_ l. 602: - - Here as I stand, of sovereign power possess’d, - A vast ambition fires my swelling breast; - I deal destruction round, and, all severe, - Damn with a dash, and censure with a sneer; - Or from the Critic wrest a sinking cause, - Rejudge his justice, and repeal his laws; - Now half by judgment guided, half by whim, - I grasp disputed power, and tyrannise like him; - Food for the mind I seek; but who shall find - The food that satisfies the craving mind? - Like fire it rages; and its fatal rage - What pains can deaden, and what care assuage? - Choked by its fuel, though it clouded lies, - It soon eats through, and craves for new supplies; - Now here, now there, with sudden fury breaks - And to its substance turns whate’er it takes. - To weighty themes I fly with eager haste, - And skim their treasures like the man of taste; - From a few pages learn the whole design, } - And damn a book for one suspicious line, } - Or steal its sentiments, and call them mine! } - -=THE BIRTH OF FLATTERY=. ‘Original MS.’ readings given as footnotes -in Life and Poems (1834). - -_Instead of_ ll. 1-9: - - Muse of my Spenser, who so well could sing - The Passions, and the sources whence they spring; - Who taught the birth, the bearings, and the ties, - The strong connections, nice dependencies, - Of these the Foes of Virtue and the Friends, - With whom she rises and with whom descends-- - A Syren’s birth, a Syren’s power I trace, - Aid me, oh! Herald of the Fairy-race; - Say whence she sprang, to what strange fortune born, - And why we love and hate, desire and scorn. - -_instead of_ ll. 29-40: - - From whom she sprang, not one around her knew, - Nor why she came, nor what she had in view, - Labour she loved not, had no wealth in store, - Pursued no calling, yet was never poor, - A thousand gifts her various arts repaid, - And bounteous fairies blest the thriving maid; - For she had secret means of easy gains, - And Cunning was her name among the swains. - - -=SIR EUSTACE GREY=. ‘Original MS.’ readings given as footnotes in -Life and Poems (1834). - -_Instead of_ ll. 29-32: - - The worthy doctor, and a friend. - ’Tis more than kind to visit one - Who has not now to spare or spend. - -_instead of_ l. 75: - - Worms, doctor, worms, and so are we. - -_instead of_ ll. 100-7: - - Madman! shall He who made this all, - The parts that form the whole reject? - Is aught with him so great or small, - He cannot punish or protect? - Man’s folly may his crimes neglect, - And hope the eye of God to shun; - But there’s of all the account correct-- - Not one omitted--no, not one. - -_instead of_ ll. 144-7: - - Nay, frown not--chide not--but allow - Pity to one so sorely tried: - But I am calm--to fate I bow - And all the storms of life abide. - -_instead of_ ll. 260-7: - - Ills that no medicines can heal, - And griefs that no man can forget; - Whatever cares the mind can fret, - The spirits wear, the bosom gall-- - Pain, hunger, prison, duns, and debt - Foul-fiends and fear,--I’ve felt ye all. - -=THE HALL OF JUSTICE=. ‘Original MS.’ readings given as footnotes in -Life and Poems (1834). - -Part I. - -_Instead of_ ll. 9-12: - - What is my crime? a deed of love; - I fed my child with pilfer’d food: - Your laws will not the act approve, - The law of Nature deems it good. - -_instead of_ ll. 43-6: - - My years, indeed, are sad and few, - Though weak these limbs, and shrunk this frame: - For Grief has done what Time should do; - And I am old in care and shame. - -Part II. - -_instead of_ ll. 29-34: - - Compell’d to feast in full delight - When I was sad and wanted power, - Can I forget that dismal night? - Ah! how did I survive the hour? - -_instead of_ ll. 39-41: - - And there my father-husband stood-- - I felt no words can tell you how-- - As he was wont in angry mood, - And thus he cried, “Will God allow, - -Preface: p. 92, l. 21. _The following footnote to the words_, His -Dedication, _was omitted in Vol. I_: Neither of these were adopted. -The author had written, about that time, some verses to the memory of -Lord Robert Manners, brother to the late Duke of Rutland; and these, -by a junction, it is presumed, not forced or unnatural, form the -concluding part of “The Village.” - - END OF VOL. 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- color: black; - font-size:smaller; - padding:0.5em; - margin-bottom:5em; - font-family:sans-serif, serif; } - -@media handheld -{ - .poem2 - { - display: block; - margin-left: 1.5em; - } -} - </style> - </head> -<body> - - -<pre> - -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Poems, Volume 2 (of 3), by George Crabbe - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world 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. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - -Title: Poems, Volume 2 (of 3) - -Author: George Crabbe - -Release Date: January 22, 2016 [EBook #51003] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK POEMS, VOLUME 2 (OF 3) *** - - - - -Produced by Paul Marshall and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images generously made available by The -Internet Archive/Million Book Project) - - - - - - -</pre> - - -<p class="f150 u space-above2 space-below2"><i>CAMBRIDGE ENGLISH CLASSICS</i></p> - -<h1>Poems<br /><small>by</small><br />George Crabbe</h1> - -<p class="f120 space-above3 space-below3">In Three Volumes</p> -<p class="f110 break space-above1">GEORGE CRABBE</p> -<p class="center">Born, 1754<br />Died, 1832</p> -<hr class="full" /> -<p class="f120 u break space-above3"><b><i>GEORGE CRABBE</i></b></p> -<p class="f150 space-above1 space-below3"><b>POEMS</b></p> - -<p class="f90">EDITED BY</p> -<p class="center">ADOLPHUS WILLIAM WARD</p> -<p class="f90 space-below2">Litt.D., Hon. LL.D., F.B.A.<br />Master of Peterhouse</p> - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/i003.jpg" alt="_" width="150" height="169" /> -</div> - -<p class="center space-above2"><b>Volume II</b></p> - -<p class="center space-above3"><span class="smcap">Cambridge:</span><br /> -at the University Press<br />1906</p> - -<p class="f120 break space-above2">CAMBRIDGE UNIVERSITY PRESS WAREHOUSE</p> -<p class="center">C. F. CLAY, Manager.<br /><b><i>London:</i></b>FETTER LANE, E.C.<br /> -<b><i>Glasgow:</i></b> 50, WELLINGTON STREET.</p> - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/i004.jpg" alt="_" width="150" height="160" /> -</div> - -<p class="center"><b><i>Leipzig:</i></b> F. A. BROCKHAUS.<br /> -<b><i>New York:</i></b> THE MACMILLAN COMPANY.<br /> -<b><i>Bombay and Calcutta:</i></b> MACMILLAN AND CO., Ltd.<br /><br /> -[<i>All Rights reserved</i>]</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> -<p class="break"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_v" id="Page_v">[Pg v]</a></span></p> - -<h2>PREFACE.</h2> - -<p>The poems contained in this volume, which comprise the whole of the -<i>Tales</i> and the first eleven of the <i>Tales of the Hall</i>, -are without exception printed from the edition of 1823, the last of -Crabbe’s works published in this country in his lifetime.</p> - -<p>The <i>Variants</i> in the <i>Tales</i> are from the first edition -(1812) and from the ‘Original MS.’ readings given as footnotes in the -younger Crabbe’s edition of his father’s <i>Life and Poems</i> (1834). -The <i>Variants</i> in the <i>Tales of the Hall</i> are from the first -edition (1819); from the ‘Original MS.’ readings as above; from the -Crabbe MSS. in the possession of the Cambridge University Press -(which will be described in the Preface to Vol. <span class="smcap">III</span>, where -a much fuller use will be made of them), and from the MSS. in the -valuable collection of Mrs Mackay of Trowbridge, most kindly lent by -her for examination and use (to which the same remark applies). In -the present volume will also be found certain <i>Addenda</i> to the -<i>Variants</i> in Vol. <span class="smcap">I</span>, from the ‘Original MS.’ readings -printed by the younger Crabbe.</p> - -<p>Among the <i>Errata</i> in this volume are included a considerable number -of quotations from Shakespeare with wrong indications of acts or -scenes, and occasionally even of the plays from which the passages -are taken. A large proportion of the quotations are in themselves -imperfect, or otherwise incorrect. Perhaps it is stretching -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_vi" id="Page_vi">[Pg vi]</a></span> -a point to treat all these defects as oversights; sometimes Crabbe -may have made intentional changes, and more frequently he may have -been wilfully careless. No readings which he could have found in any -current edition of Shakespeare have been altered.</p> - -<p>In the preparation of the present volume, I have again enjoyed -the advantage of the friendly aid and cooperation of Mr <span class="smcap">A. T. -Bartholomew</span>, to whom I am specially indebted for the compilation -of the <i>Variants</i>. Our joint efforts have been occasionally defeated -by the illegibility of passages in the Crabbe MSS. acquired by our -University Press. It is hoped that the third and concluding volume of -this edition, which will contain a considerable amount of previously -unpublished verse, will appear in the course of the summer.</p> - -<p class="author space-above1">A. W. WARD.</p> - -<p> -<span class="smcap">Peterhouse Lodge, Cambridge.</span><br /> -  <i>March 19th, 1906.</i></p> - -<hr class="chap" /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_vii" id="Page_vii">[Pg vii]</a></span></p> - -<table border="0" cellspacing="2" summary="Table of Contents." cellpadding="0"> -<caption>CONTENTS.</caption> - <tbody><tr> - <td class="tdr">TALES</td> - <td class="tdl"> </td> - <td class="tdr"><small>PAGE</small></td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="tdr">I. </td> - <td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">The Dumb Orators</span></td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_13"> 13</a></td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="tdr">II. </td> - <td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">The Parting Hour</span></td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_27"> 27</a></td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="tdr">III. </td> - <td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">The Gentleman Farmer</span></td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_41"> 41</a></td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="tdr">IV. </td> - <td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Procrastination</span></td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_56"> 56</a></td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="tdr">V. </td> - <td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">The Patron</span></td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_67"> 67</a></td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="tdr">VI. </td> - <td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">The Frank Courtship</span></td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_87"> 87</a></td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="tdr">VII. </td> - <td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">The Widow’s Tale</span></td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_101">101</a></td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="tdr">VIII. </td> - <td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">The Mother</span></td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_113">113</a></td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="tdr">IX. </td> - <td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Arabella</span></td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_124">124</a></td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="tdr">X. </td> - <td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">The Lover’s Journey</span></td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_134">134</a></td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="tdr">XI. </td> - <td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Edward Shore</span></td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_145">145</a></td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="tdr">XII. </td> - <td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">’Squire Thomas</span></td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_159">159</a></td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="tdr">XIII. </td> - <td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Jesse and Colin</span></td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_170">170</a></td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="tdr">XIV. </td> - <td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">The Struggles of Conscience</span></td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_185">185</a></td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="tdr">XV. </td> - <td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">The ’Squire and the Priest</span></td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_199">199</a></td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="tdr">XVI. </td> - <td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">The Confidant</span></td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_211">211</a></td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="tdr">XVII. </td> - <td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Resentment</span></td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_228">228</a></td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="tdr">XVIII. </td> - <td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">The Wager</span></td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_242">242</a></td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="tdr">XIX. </td> - <td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">The Convert</span></td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_251">251</a></td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="tdr">XX. </td> - <td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">The Brothers</span></td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_264">264</a></td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="tdr">XXI. </td> - <td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">The Learned Boy</span></td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_276">276</a><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_viii" id="Page_viii">[Pg viii]</a></span></td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="tdr"><br />TALES</td> - <td class="tdl"><br />OF THE HALL</td> - <td class="tdr"><br /></td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="tdr">I. </td> - <td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">The Hall</span></td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_302">302</a></td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="tdr">II. </td> - <td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">The Brothers</span></td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_312">312</a></td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="tdr">III. </td> - <td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Boys at School</span></td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_319">319</a></td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="tdr">IV. </td> - <td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Adventures of Richard</span></td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_332">332</a></td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="tdr">V. </td> - <td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Ruth</span></td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_346">346</a></td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="tdr">VI. </td> - <td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Adventures of Richard</span> (<i>concluded</i>)</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_359">359</a></td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="tdr">VII. </td> - <td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">The Elder Brother</span></td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_371">371</a></td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="tdr">VIII. </td> - <td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">The Sisters</span></td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_394">394</a></td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="tdr">IX. </td> - <td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">The Preceptor Husband</span></td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_419">419</a></td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="tdr">X. </td> - <td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">The Old Bachelor</span></td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_430">430</a></td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="tdr">XI. </td> - <td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">The Maid’s Story</span></td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_451">451</a></td> - </tr> - </tbody> -</table> -<hr class="full" /> -<p class="break"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</a></span></p> -<div class="chapter"> -<h2>TALES.</h2> -</div> - -<p class="center break space-above2">TO<br />HER GRACE ISABELLA</p> -<p class="f120">DUCHESS DOWAGER OF RUTLAND.</p> -<p><br /><span class="smcap">Madam</span>,</p> - -<p>The dedication of works of literature to persons of -superior worth and eminence appears to have been a measure -early adopted, and continued to the present time; so that, -whatever objections have been made to the language of dedicators, -such addresses must be considered as perfectly consistent -with reason and propriety; in fact, superior rank and elevated -situation in life naturally and justly claim such respect and it -is the prerogative of greatness to give countenance and favour -to all who appear to merit and to need them; it is likewise the -prerogative of every kind of superiority and celebrity, of personal -merit when peculiar or extraordinary, of dignity, elegance, wealth, -and beauty, certainly of superior intellect and intellectual -acquirements; every such kind of eminence has its privilege, -and, being itself an object of distinguished approbation, it -gains attention for whomsoever its possessor distinguishes and -approves.</p> - -<p>Yet the causes and motives for an address of this kind rest -not entirely with the merit of the patron, the feelings of the -author himself having their weight and consideration in the -choice he makes; he may have gratitude for benefits received, -or pride not illaudable in aspiring to the favour of those whose -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[Pg 4]</a></span> -notice confers honour; or he may entertain a secret but strong -desire of seeing a name in the entrance of his work which he is -accustomed to utter with peculiar satisfaction, and to hear -mentioned with veneration and delight.</p> - -<p>Such, madam, are the various kinds of eminence for which -an author on these occasions would probably seek, and they -meet in your grace; such too are the feelings by which he -would be actuated, and they centre in me: let me therefore -entreat your grace to take this book into your favour and -protection, and to receive it as an offering of the utmost -respect and duty, from,</p> - -<p class="author">May it please Your Grace,    <br /><br /> -Your Grace’s    <br /><br /> -Most obedient, humble,   <br /><br /> -And devoted servant,   <br /><br /> -GEORGE CRABBE.</p> - -<p> Muston, July 31, 1812.</p> -<hr class="chap" /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span></p> - -<p class="f150 break"><b>PREFACE</b>.</p> - -<p>That the appearance of the present work before the public -is occasioned by a favourable reception of the former two, -I hesitate not to acknowledge; because, while the confession -may be regarded as some proof of gratitude, or at least of attention -from an author to his readers, it ought not to be considered -as an indication of vanity. It is unquestionably very pleasant -to be assured that our labours are well received; but, nevertheless, -this must not be taken for a just and full criterion of -their merit: publications of great intrinsic value have been met -with so much coolness, that a writer who succeeds in obtaining -some degree of notice should look upon himself rather as one -favoured than meritorious, as gaining a prize from Fortune, and -not a recompense for desert; and, on the contrary, as it is well -known that books of very inferior kind have been at once -pushed into the strong current of popularity, and are there -kept buoyant by the force of the stream, the writer who -acquires not this adventitious help may be reckoned rather as -unfortunate than undeserving; and from these opposite considerations -it follows, that a man may speak of his success -without incurring justly the odium of conceit, and may likewise -acknowledge a disappointment without an adequate cause for -humiliation or self-reproach.</p> - -<p>But were it true that something of the complacency of -self-approbation would insinuate itself into an author’s mind -with the idea of success, the sensation would not be that of -unalloyed pleasure; it would perhaps assist him to bear, but it -would not enable him to escape, the mortification he must -encounter from censures, which, though he may be unwilling -to admit, yet he finds himself unable to confute; as well as -from advice, which, at the same time that he cannot but -approve, he is compelled to reject. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</a></span></p> - -<p>Reproof and advice, it is probable, every author will receive, -if we except those who merit so much of the former, that the -latter is contemptuously denied them; now of these, reproof, -though it may cause more temporary uneasiness, will in many -cases create less difficulty, since errors may be corrected when -opportunity occurs; but advice, I repeat, may be of such -nature, that it will be painful to reject, and yet impossible to -follow it; and in this predicament I conceive myself to be -placed. There has been recommended to me, and from -authority which neither inclination nor prudence leads me to -resist, in any new work I might undertake, an unity of subject, -and that arrangement of my materials which connects the whole -and gives additional interest to every part; in fact, if not an -Epic Poem, strictly so denominated, yet such composition as -would possess a regular succession of events, and a catastrophe -to which every incident should be subservient, and which every -character, in a greater or less degree, should conspire to accomplish.</p> - -<p>In a Poem of this nature, the principal and inferior characters -in some degree resemble a general and his army, where -no one pursues his peculiar objects and adventures, [but] pursues -them in unison with the movements and grand purposes of the -whole body; where there is a community of interests and a -subordination of actors; and it was upon this view of the subject, -and of the necessity for such distribution of persons and events, -that I found myself obliged to relinquish an undertaking, for -which the characters I could command, and the adventures -I could describe, were altogether unfitted.</p> - -<p>But if these characters which seemed to be at my disposal -were not such as would coalesce into one body, nor were of -a nature to be commanded by one mind, so neither on examination -did they appear as an unconnected multitude, accidentally -collected, to be suddenly dispersed; but rather beings of whom -might be formed groups and smaller societies, the relations of -whose adventures and pursuits might bear that kind of similitude -to an Heroic Poem, which these minor associations of men (as -pilgrims on the way to their saint, or parties in search of -amusement, travellers excited by curiosity, or adventurers in -pursuit of gain) have in points of connexion and importance -with a regular and disciplined army. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span></p> - -<p>Allowing this comparison, it is manifest that while much is -lost for want of unity of subject and grandeur of design, -something is gained by greater variety of incident and more -minute display of character, by accuracy of description and -diversity of scene: in these narratives we pass from gay to -grave, from lively to severe, not only without impropriety, but -with manifest advantage. In one continued and connected -Poem, the reader is, in general, highly gratified or severely -disappointed; by many independent narratives, he has the -renovation of hope, although he has been dissatisfied, and -a prospect of reiterated pleasure, should he find himself -entertained.</p> - -<p>I mean not, however, to compare these different modes of -writing as if I were balancing their advantages and defects before -I could give preference to either; with me the way I take is -not a matter of choice, but of necessity; I present not my -Tales to the reader as if I had chosen the best method of -ensuring his approbation, but as using the only means I possessed -of engaging his attention.</p> - -<p>It may probably be remarked that Tales, however dissimilar, -might have been connected by some associating circumstance to -which the whole number might bear equal affinity, and that -examples of such union are to be found in Chaucer, in Boccace, -and other collectors and inventors of Tales, which, considered -in themselves, are altogether independent; and to this idea -I gave so much consideration as convinced me that I could not -avail myself of the benefit of such artificial mode of affinity. -To imitate the English poet, characters must be found adapted -to their several relations, and this is a point of great difficulty -and hazard; much allowance seems to be required even for -Chaucer himself, since it is difficult to conceive that on any -occasion the devout and delicate Prioress, the courtly and -valiant Knight, and “the poure good Man the persone of a -Towne,” would be the voluntary companions of the drunken -Miller, the licentious Sompnour, and “the Wanton Wife of -Bath,” and enter into that colloquial and travelling intimacy -which, if a common pilgrimage to the shrine of St. Thomas -may be said to excuse, I know nothing beside (and certainly -nothing in these times) that would produce such effect. Boccace, -it is true, avoids all difficulty of this kind, by not assigning to -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span> -the ten relators of his hundred Tales any marked or peculiar -characters; nor, though there are male and female in company, -can the sex of the narrator be distinguished in the narration. -To have followed the method of Chaucer might have been of -use, but could scarcely be adopted, from its difficulty; and -to have taken that of the Italian writer would have been -perfectly easy, but could be of no service: the attempt at union -therefore has been relinquished, and these relations are submitted -to the public, connected by no other circumstance than their -being the productions of the same author, and devoted to the -same purpose, the entertainment of his readers.</p> - -<p>It has been already acknowledged, that these compositions -have no pretensions to be estimated with the more lofty and -heroic kind of poems, but I feel great reluctance in admitting -that they have not a fair and legitimate claim to the poetic -character. In vulgar estimation, indeed, all that is not prose -passes for poetry, but I have not ambition of so humble a kind -as to be satisfied with a concession which requires nothing in -the poet, except his ability for counting syllables, and I trust -something more of the poetic character will be allowed to the -succeeding pages than what the heroes of the Dunciad might -share with the author; nor was I aware that by describing, as -faithfully as I could, men, manners, and things, I was forfeiting -a just title to a name which has been freely granted to many -whom to equal, and even to excel, is but very stinted commendation.</p> - -<p>In this case it appears that the usual comparison between -poetry and painting entirely fails: the artist who takes an -accurate likeness of individuals, or a faithful representation of -scenery, may not rank so high in the public estimation as one -who paints an historical event, or an heroic action; but he is -nevertheless a painter, and his accuracy is so far from diminishing -his reputation, that it procures for him in general both fame -and emolument; nor is it perhaps with strict justice determined -that the credit and reputation of those verses which strongly -and faithfully delineate character and manners, should be -lessened in the opinion of the public by the very accuracy -which gives value and distinction to the productions of the -pencil.</p> - -<p>Nevertheless, it must be granted that the pretensions of any -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span> -composition to be regarded as poetry will depend upon that -definition of the poetic character which he who undertakes to -determine the question has considered as decisive; and it is -confessed also that one of great authority may be adopted, by -which the verses now before the reader, and many others which -have probably amused and delighted him, must be excluded: -a definition like this will be found in the words which the -greatest of poets, not divinely inspired, has given to the most -noble and valiant Duke of Athens—</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poem2"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“The poet’s eye, in a fine frenzy rolling,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Doth glance from heaven to earth, from earth to heaven;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And as Imagination bodies forth<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The forms of things unknown, the poet’s pen<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Turns them to shapes, and gives to airy nothing<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A local habitation, and a name<a name="FNanchor_1_1" id="FNanchor_1_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a>.”<br /></span> -</div></div></div> - -<p>Hence we observe the poet is one who, in the excursions of -his fancy between heaven and earth, lights upon a kind of fairyland, -in which he places a creation of his own, where he -embodies shapes, and gives action and adventure to his ideal -offspring; taking captive the imagination of his readers, he -elevates them above the grossness of actual being, into the -soothing and pleasant atmosphere of supra-mundane existence: -there he obtains for his visionary inhabitants the interest that -engages a reader’s attention without ruffling his feelings, and -excites that moderate kind of sympathy which the realities of -nature oftentimes fail to produce, either because they are so -familiar and insignificant that they excite no determinate -emotion, or are so harsh and powerful that the feelings excited -are grating and distasteful.</p> - -<p>Be it then granted that (as Duke Theseus observes) “such -tricks hath strong Imagination,” and that such poets “are of -imagination all compact;” let it be further conceded, that theirs -is a higher and more dignified kind of composition, nay, the -only kind that has pretensions to inspiration: still, that these -poets should so entirely engross the title as to exclude those who -address their productions to the plain sense and sober judgment -of their readers, rather than to their fancy and imagination, -I must repeat that I am unwilling to admit—because I conceive -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span> -that, by granting such right of exclusion, a vast deal of what has -been hitherto received as genuine poetry would no longer be -entitled to that appellation.</p> - -<p>All that kind of satire wherein character is skillfully delineated -must (this criterion being allowed) no longer be esteemed as -genuine poetry; and for the same reason many affecting -narratives which are founded on real events, and borrow no aid -whatever from the imagination of the writer, must likewise be -rejected: a considerable part of the poems, as they have hitherto -been denominated, of Chaucer, are of this naked and unveiled -character; and there are in his Tales many pages of coarse, -accurate, and minute, but very striking description. Many -small poems in a subsequent age, of most impressive kind, are -adapted and addressed to the common sense of the reader, and -prevail by the strong language of truth and nature; they -amused our ancestors, and they continue to engage our interest, -and excite our feelings, by the same powerful appeals to the -heart and affections. In times less remote, Dryden has given -us much of this poetry, in which the force of expression and -accuracy of description have neither needed nor obtained -assistance from the fancy of the writer; the characters in his -Absalom and Achitophel are instances of this, and more -especially those of Doeg and Og in the second part: these, -with all their grossness, and almost offensive accuracy, are found -to possess that strength and spirit which has preserved from -utter annihilation the dead bodies of Tate, to whom they were -inhumanly bound, happily with a fate the reverse of that caused -by the cruelty of Mezentius; for there the living perished in -the putrefaction of the dead, and here the dead are preserved by -the vitality of the living. And, to bring forward one other -example, it will be found that Pope himself has no small portion -of this actuality of relation, this nudity of description, and -poetry without an atmosphere; the lines beginning, “In the -worst inn’s worst room,” are an example, and many others may be -seen in his Satires, Imitations, and above all in his Dunciad: -the frequent absence of those “Sports of Fancy,” and “Tricks -of strong Imagination,” have been so much observed, that some -have ventured to question whether even this writer were -a poet; and though, as Dr. Johnson has remarked, it would be -difficult to form a definition of one in which Pope should not -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span> -be admitted, yet they who doubted his claim, had, it is likely, -provided for his exclusion by forming that kind of character for -their poet, in which this elegant versifier, for so he must be then -named, should not be comprehended.</p> - -<p>These things considered, an author will find comfort in his -expulsion from the rank and society of poets, by reflecting that -men much his superiors were likewise shut out, and more -especially when he finds also that men not much his superiors -are entitled to admission.</p> - -<p>But in whatever degree I may venture to differ from any -others in my notions of the qualifications and character of the -true poet, I most cordially assent to their opinion who assert -that his principal exertions must be made to engage the attention -of his readers; and further, I must allow that the effect of -poetry should be to lift the mind from the painful realities of -actual existence, from its every-day concerns, and its perpetually -occurring vexations, and to give it repose by substituting objects -in their place which it may contemplate with some degree of -interest and satisfaction; but what is there in all this, which -may not be effected by a fair representation of existing character? -nay, by a faithful delineation of those painful realities, those -every-day concerns, and those perpetually-occurring vexations -themselves, provided they be not (which is hardly to be supposed) -the very concerns and distresses of the reader? for, when it is -admitted that they have no particular relation to him, but are -the troubles and anxieties of other men, they excite and interest -his feelings as the imaginary exploits, adventures, and perils of -romance;—they soothe his mind, and keep his curiosity pleasantly -awake; they appear to have enough of reality to engage -his sympathy, but possess not interest sufficient to create painful -sensations. Fiction itself, we know, and every work of fancy, -must for a time have the effect of realities; nay, the very -enchanters, spirits, and monsters of Ariosto and Spenser must -be present in the mind of the reader while he is engaged by -their operations, or they would be as the objects and incidents -of a nursery tale to a rational understanding, altogether despised -and neglected: in truth, I can but consider this pleasant effect -upon the mind of a reader as depending neither upon the events -related (whether they be actual or imaginary), nor upon the -characters introduced (whether taken from life or fancy), but -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span> -upon the manner in which the poem itself is conducted; let -that be judiciously managed, and the occurrences actually copied -from life will have the same happy effect as the inventions of -a creative fancy;—while, on the other hand, the imaginary -persons and incidents to which the poet has given “a local -habitation, and a name,” will make upon the concurring feelings -of the reader the same impressions with those taken from truth -and nature, because they will appear to be derived from that -source, and therefore of necessity will have a similar effect.</p> - -<p>Having thus far presumed to claim for the ensuing pages the -rank and title of poetry, I attempt no more, nor venture to class -or compare them with any other kinds of poetical composition; -their place will doubtless be found for them.</p> - -<p>A principal view and wish of the poet must be to engage -the mind of his readers, as, failing in that point, he will scarcely -succeed in any other: I therefore willingly confess that much -of my time and assiduity has been devoted to this purpose; but, -to the ambition of pleasing, no other sacrifices have, I trust, -been made, than of my own labour and care. Nothing will be -found that militates against the rules of propriety and good -manners, nothing that offends against the more important -precepts of morality and religion; and with this negative kind -of merit, I commit my book to the judgment and taste of the -reader—not being willing to provoke his vigilance by professions -of accuracy, nor to solicit his indulgence by apologies for mistakes.</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span></p> - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> -<h3>TALE I.</h3> -<p class="f110"><i>THE DUMB ORATORS</i>;</p> -<p class="f90">OR,</p> -<p class="f110">THE BENEFIT OF SOCIETY.</p> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poem2"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">[In] fair round belly with good capon lined,</span> -<span class="i0">With eyes severe...</span> -<span class="i0">Full of wise saws and modern instances.</span> -<span class="i18"><i>As you Like it</i>, Act II. Scene 7.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Deep shame hath struck me dumb.</span> -<span class="i20"><i>King John</i>, Act IV. Scene 2.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">He gives the bastinado with his tongue,</span> -<span class="i0">Our ears are cudgell’d.</span> -<span class="i20"><i>King John</i>, Act IV. Scene 1.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i14">Let’s kill all the lawyers;</span> -<span class="i0">Now show yourselves men: ’tis for liberty:</span> -<span class="i0">We will not leave one lord or gentleman.</span> -<span class="i19"><i>2 Henry VI.</i> Act IV. Scene 2.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And thus the whirligig of time brings in his revenges.</span> -<span class="i17"><i>Twelfth Night</i>, Act V. Scene last.</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="f120 break space-above2"><b>TALE I.</b></p> -<p class="f110"><i>THE DUMB ORATORS.</i></p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poem2"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">That all men would be cowards if they dare,</span> -<span class="i0">Some men we know have courage to declare;</span> -<span class="i0">And this the life of many an hero shows,</span> -<span class="i0">That like the tide, man’s courage ebbs and flows:</span> -<span class="i0">With friends and gay companions round them, then</span> -<span class="i0">Men boldly speak and have the hearts of men;</span> -<span class="i0">Who, with opponents seated, miss the aid</span> -<span class="i0">Of kind applauding looks, and grow afraid;</span> -<span class="i0">Like timid trav’llers in the night, they fear</span> -<span class="i0">Th’ assault of foes, when not a friend is near. <span class="linenum">10</span></span> -<span class="i2">In contest mighty and of conquest proud</span> -<span class="i0">Was Justice Bolt, impetuous, warm, and loud;</span> -<span class="i0">His fame, his prowess all the country knew,</span> -<span class="i0">And disputants, with one so fierce, were few.</span> -<span class="i0">He was a younger son, for law design’d,</span> -<span class="i0">With dauntless look and persevering mind;</span> -<span class="i0">While yet a clerk, for disputation famed,</span> -<span class="i0">No efforts tired him, and no conflicts tamed.</span> -<span class="i2">Scarcely he bade his master’s desk adieu,</span> -<span class="i0">When both his brothers from the world withdrew. <span class="linenum">20</span></span> -<span class="i0">An ample fortune he from them possess’d,</span> -<span class="i0">And was with saving care and prudence bless’d.</span> -<span class="i0">Now would he go and to the country give</span> -<span class="i0">Example how an English ’squire should live;</span> -<span class="i0">How bounteous, yet how frugal man may be,</span> -<span class="i0">By a well-order’d hospitality;</span> -<span class="i0">He would the rights of all so well maintain,</span> -<span class="i0">That none should idle be, and none complain.</span> -<span class="i2">All this and more he purposed—and what man</span> -<span class="i0">Could do, he did to realize his plan; <span class="linenum">30</span></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span> -<span class="i0">But time convinced him that we cannot keep</span> -<span class="i0">A breed of reasoners like a flock of sheep;</span> -<span class="i0">For they, so far from following as we lead,</span> -<span class="i0">Make that a cause why they will not proceed.</span> -<span class="i0">Man will not follow where a rule is shown,</span> -<span class="i0">But loves to take a method of his own;</span> -<span class="i0">Explain the way with all your care and skill,</span> -<span class="i0">This will he quit, if but to prove he will.—</span> -<span class="i0">Yet had our Justice honour—and the crowd,</span> -<span class="i0">Awed by his presence, their respect avow’d. <span class="linenum">40</span></span> -<span class="i2">In later years he found his heart incline,</span> -<span class="i0">More than in youth, to gen’rous food and wine;</span> -<span class="i0">But no indulgence check’d the powerful love</span> -<span class="i0">He felt to teach, to argue, and reprove.</span> -<span class="i2">Meetings, or public calls, he never miss’d—</span> -<span class="i0">To dictate often, always to assist.</span> -<span class="i0">Oft he the clergy join’d, and not a cause</span> -<span class="i0">Pertain’d to them but he could quote the laws;</span> -<span class="i0">He upon tithes and residence display’d</span> -<span class="i0">A fund of knowledge for the hearer’s aid; <span class="linenum">50</span></span> -<span class="i0">And could on glebe and farming, wool and grain,</span> -<span class="i0">A long discourse, without a pause, maintain.</span> -<span class="i2">To his experience and his native sense</span> -<span class="i0">He join’d a bold imperious eloquence;</span> -<span class="i0">The grave, stern look of men inform’d and wise, <span class="ws3">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">A full command of feature, heart, and eyes, <span class="ws7">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">An awe-compelling frown, and fear-inspiring size. }</span> -<span class="i0">When at the table, not a guest was seen</span> -<span class="i0">With appetite so ling’ring, or so keen;</span> -<span class="i0">But when the outer man no more required, <span class="linenum">60</span></span> -<span class="i0">The inner waked, and he was man inspired.</span> -<span class="i0">His subjects then were those, a subject true</span> -<span class="i0">Presents in fairest form to public view;</span> -<span class="i0">Of Church and State, of Law, with mighty strength</span> -<span class="i0">Of words he spoke, in speech of mighty length;</span> -<span class="i0">And now, into the vale of years declined,</span> -<span class="i0">He hides too little of the monarch-mind;</span> -<span class="i0">He kindles anger by untimely jokes,</span> -<span class="i0">And opposition by contempt provokes;</span> -<span class="i0">Mirth he suppresses by his awful frown, <span class="linenum">70</span></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span> -<span class="i0">And humble spirits, by disdain, keeps down;</span> -<span class="i0">Blamed by the mild, approved by the severe,</span> -<span class="i0">The prudent fly him, and the valiant fear.</span> -<span class="i2">For overbearing is his proud discourse,</span> -<span class="i0">And overwhelming of his voice the force;</span> -<span class="i0">And overpowering is he when he shows</span> -<span class="i0">What floats upon a mind that always overflows.</span> -<span class="i2">This ready man at every meeting rose,</span> -<span class="i0">Something to hint, determine, or propose;</span> -<span class="i0">And grew so fond of teaching, that he taught<span class="linenum">80</span></span> -<span class="i0">Those who instruction needed not or sought.</span> -<span class="i0">Happy our hero, when he could excite</span> -<span class="i0">Some thoughtless talker to the wordy fight:</span> -<span class="i0">Let him a subject at his pleasure choose,</span> -<span class="i0">Physic or Law, Religion or the Muse;</span> -<span class="i0">On all such themes he was prepared to shine,</span> -<span class="i0">Physician, poet, lawyer, and divine.</span> -<span class="i0">Hemm’d in by some tough argument, borne down</span> -<span class="i0">By press of language and the awful frown,</span> -<span class="i0">In vain for mercy shall the culprit plead;<span class="linenum">90</span></span> -<span class="i0">His crime is past, and sentence must proceed:</span> -<span class="i0">Ah! suffering man, have patience, bear thy woes—</span> -<span class="i0">For lo! the clock—at ten the Justice goes.</span> -<span class="i2">This powerful man, on business or to please</span> -<span class="i0">A curious taste, or weary grown of ease,</span> -<span class="i0">On a long journey travell’d many a mile</span> -<span class="i0">Westward, and halted midway in our isle;</span> -<span class="i0">Content to view a city large and fair,</span> -<span class="i0">Though none had notice what a man was there!</span> -<span class="i2">Silent two days, he then began to long <span class="linenum">100</span></span> -<span class="i0">Again to try a voice so loud and strong;</span> -<span class="i0">To give his favourite topics some new grace,</span> -<span class="i0">And gain some glory in such distant place;</span> -<span class="i0">To reap some present pleasure, and to sow</span> -<span class="i0">Seeds of fair fame, in after-time to grow:</span> -<span class="i0">Here will men say, “We heard, at such an hour,</span> -<span class="i0">The best of speakers—wonderful his power.”</span> -<span class="i2">Inquiry made, he found that day would meet</span> -<span class="i0">A learned club, and in the very street:</span> -<span class="i0">Knowledge to gain and give, was the design; <span class="linenum">110</span></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span> -<span class="i0">To speak, to hearken, to debate, and dine:</span> -<span class="i0">This pleased our traveller, for he felt his force</span> -<span class="i0">In either way, to eat or to discourse.</span> -<span class="i2">Nothing more easy than to gain access</span> -<span class="i0">To men like these, with his polite address:</span> -<span class="i0">So he succeeded, and first look’d around,</span> -<span class="i0">To view his objects and to take his ground;</span> -<span class="i0">And therefore silent chose awhile to sit,</span> -<span class="i0">Then enter boldly by some lucky hit,</span> -<span class="i0">Some observation keen or stroke severe, <span class="linenum">120</span></span> -<span class="i0">To cause some wonder or excite some fear.</span> -<span class="i2">Now, dinner past, no longer he suppress’d</span> -<span class="i0">His strong dislike to be a silent guest;</span> -<span class="i0">Subjects and words were now at his command—</span> -<span class="i0">When disappointment frown’d on all he plann’d;</span> -<span class="i0">For, hark!—he heard, amazed, on every side,</span> -<span class="i0">His church insulted and her priests belied;</span> -<span class="i0">The laws reviled, the ruling power abused,</span> -<span class="i0">The land derided, and its foes excused:—</span> -<span class="i0">He heard and ponder’d.—What, to men so vile, <span class="linenum">130</span></span> -<span class="i0">Should be his language? For his threat’ning style</span> -<span class="i0">They were too many;—if his speech were meek,</span> -<span class="i0">They would despise such poor attempts to speak:</span> -<span class="i0">At other times with every word at will,</span> -<span class="i0">He now sat lost, perplex’d, astonish’d, still.</span> -<span class="i2">Here were Socinians, Deists, and indeed<span class="ws11">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">All who, as foes to England’s church, agreed;<span class="ws9">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">But still with creeds unlike, and some without a creed: }</span> -<span class="i0">Here, too, fierce friends of liberty he saw,</span> -<span class="i0">Who own’d no prince and who obey no law; <span class="linenum">140</span></span> -<span class="i0">There were Reformers of each different sort,</span> -<span class="i0">Foes to the laws, the priesthood, and the court;</span> -<span class="i0">Some on their favourite plans alone intent,</span> -<span class="i0">Some purely angry and malevolent:</span> -<span class="i0">The rash were proud to blame their country’s laws;</span> -<span class="i0">The vain, to seem supporters of a cause;</span> -<span class="i0">One call’d for change that he would dread to see;</span> -<span class="i0">Another sigh’d for Gallic liberty!</span> -<span class="i0">And numbers joining with the forward crew,</span> -<span class="i0">For no one reason—but that numbers do. <span class="linenum">150</span></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span> -<span class="i2">“How,” said the Justice, “can this trouble rise,</span> -<span class="i0">This shame and pain, from creatures I despise?”</span> -<span class="i0">And conscience answer’d—“The prevailing cause</span> -<span class="i0">Is thy delight in listening to applause;</span> -<span class="i0">Here, thou art seated with a tribe, who spurn</span> -<span class="i0">Thy favourite themes, and into laughter turn</span> -<span class="i0">Thy fears and wishes; silent and obscure,</span> -<span class="i0">Thyself, shalt thou the long harangue endure;</span> -<span class="i0">And learn, by feeling, what it is to force</span> -<span class="i0">On thy unwilling friends the long discourse. <span class="linenum">160</span></span> -<span class="i0">What though thy thoughts be just, and these, it seems,</span> -<span class="i0">Are traitors’ projects, idiots’ empty schemes:</span> -<span class="i0">Yet minds like bodies cramm’d, reject their food,</span> -<span class="i0">Nor will be forced and tortured for their good!”</span> -<span class="i2">At length, a sharp, shrewd, sallow man arose,</span> -<span class="i0">And begg’d he briefly might his mind disclose;</span> -<span class="i0">“It was his duty, in these worst of times,</span> -<span class="i0">T’ inform the govern’d of their rulers’ crimes.”</span> -<span class="i0">This pleasant subject to attend, they each</span> -<span class="i0">Prepared to listen, and forbore to teach. <span class="linenum">170</span></span> -<span class="i2">Then, voluble and fierce, the wordy man</span> -<span class="i0">Through a long chain of favourite horrors ran:—</span> -<span class="i0">First, of the church, from whose enslaving power</span> -<span class="i0">He was deliver’d, and he bless’d the hour;</span> -<span class="i0">“Bishops and deans, and prebendaries all,”</span> -<span class="i0">He said, “were cattle fatt’ning in the stall;</span> -<span class="i0">Slothful and pursy, insolent and mean,</span> -<span class="i0">Were every bishop, prebendary, dean,</span> -<span class="i0">And wealthy rector; curates, poorly paid,</span> -<span class="i0">Were only dull;—he would not them upbraid.” <span class="linenum">180</span></span> -<span class="i2">From priests he turn’d to canons, creeds, and prayers,</span> -<span class="i0">Rubrics and rules, and all our church affairs;</span> -<span class="i0">Churches themselves, desk, pulpit, altar, all</span> -<span class="i0">The Justice reverenced—and pronounced their fall.</span> -<span class="i2">Then from religion Hammond turn’d his view,</span> -<span class="i0">To give our rulers the correction due;</span> -<span class="i0">Not one wise action had these triflers plann’d;</span> -<span class="i0">There was, it seem’d, no wisdom in the land;</span> -<span class="i0">Save in this patriot tribe, who meet at times</span> -<span class="i0">To show the statesman’s errors and his crimes. <span class="linenum">190</span></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span> -<span class="i2">Now here was Justice Bolt compell’d to sit,</span> -<span class="i0">To hear the deist’s scorn, the rebel’s wit;</span> -<span class="i0">The fact mis-stated, the envenom’d lie,</span> -<span class="i0">And staring, spell-bound, made not one reply.</span> -<span class="i2">Then were our laws abused—and with the laws,</span> -<span class="i0">All who prepare, defend, or judge a cause:</span> -<span class="i0">“We have no lawyer whom a man can trust,”</span> -<span class="i0">Proceeded Hammond—“if the laws were just;</span> -<span class="i0">But they are evil; ’tis the savage state</span> -<span class="i0">Is only good, and ours sophisticate! <span class="linenum">200</span></span> -<span class="i0">See! the free creatures in their woods and plains,</span> -<span class="i0">Where without laws each happy monarch reigns,</span> -<span class="i0">King of himself—while we a number dread,</span> -<span class="i0">By slaves commanded and by dunces led;</span> -<span class="i0">Oh, let the name with either state agree—</span> -<span class="i0">Savage our own we’ll name, and civil theirs shall be.”</span> -<span class="i2">The silent Justice still astonish’d sate,</span> -<span class="i0">And wonder’d much whom he was gazing at;</span> -<span class="i0">Twice he essay’d to speak—but in a cough</span> -<span class="i0">The faint, indignant, dying speech went off: <span class="linenum">210</span></span> -<span class="i0">“But who is this?” thought he—“a dæmon vile,</span> -<span class="i0">With wicked meaning and a vulgar style:</span> -<span class="i0">Hammond they call him; they can give the name</span> -<span class="i0">Of man to devils.—Why am I so tame?</span> -<span class="i0">Why crush I not the viper?”—Fear replied,</span> -<span class="i0">“Watch him awhile, and let his strength be tried;</span> -<span class="i0">He will be foil’d, if man; but if his aid</span> -<span class="i0">Be from beneath, ’tis well to be afraid.”</span> -<span class="i2">“We are call’d free!” said Hammond—“doleful times</span> -<span class="i0">When rulers add their insult to their crimes; <span class="linenum">220</span></span> -<span class="i0">For, should our scorn expose each powerful vice,</span> -<span class="i0">It would be libel, and we pay the price.”</span> -<span class="i2">Thus with licentious words the man went on,</span> -<span class="i0">Proving that liberty of speech was gone;</span> -<span class="i0">That all were slaves—nor had we better chance</span> -<span class="i0">For better times than as allies to France.</span> -<span class="i2">Loud groan’d the stranger—Why, he must relate,</span> -<span class="i0">And own’d, “In sorrow for his country’s fate.”</span> -<span class="i0">“Nay, she were safe,” the ready man replied,</span> -<span class="i0">“Might patriots rule her, and could reasoners guide; <span class="linenum">230</span></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span> -<span class="i0">When all to vote, to speak, to teach, are free,</span> -<span class="i0">Whate’er their creeds or their opinions be;</span> -<span class="i0">When books of statutes are consumed in flames,</span> -<span class="i0">And courts and copyholds are empty names;</span> -<span class="i0">Then will be times of joy—but ere they come,</span> -<span class="i0">Havock, and war, and blood must be our doom.”</span> -<span class="i2">The man here paused—then loudly for reform</span> -<span class="i0">He call’d, and hail’d the prospect of the storm;</span> -<span class="i0">The wholesome blast, the fertilizing flood—</span> -<span class="i0">Peace gain’d by tumult, plenty bought with blood: <span class="linenum">240</span></span> -<span class="i0">Sharp means, he own’d; but when the land’s disease</span> -<span class="i0">Asks cure complete, no med’cines are like these.</span> -<span class="i2">Our Justice now, more led by fear than rage,</span> -<span class="i0">Saw it in vain with madness to engage;</span> -<span class="i0">With imps of darkness no man seeks to fight,</span> -<span class="i0">Knaves to instruct, or set deceivers right.</span> -<span class="i0">Then, as the daring speech denounced these woes,</span> -<span class="i0">Sick at the soul, the grieving guest arose;</span> -<span class="i0">Quick on the board his ready cash he threw,</span> -<span class="i0">And from the dæmons to his closet flew. <span class="linenum">250</span></span> -<span class="i0">There when secured, he pray’d with earnest zeal,</span> -<span class="i0">That all they wish’d these patriot-souls might feel;</span> -<span class="i0">“Let them to France, their darling country, haste,</span> -<span class="i0">And all the comforts of a Frenchman taste;</span> -<span class="i0">Let them his safety, freedom, pleasure know, <span class="ws5">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Feel all their rulers on the land bestow; <span class="ws10">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">And be at length dismiss’d by one unerring blow; }</span> -<span class="i0">Not hack’d and hew’d by one afraid to strike,</span> -<span class="i0">But shorn by that which shears all men alike;</span> -<span class="i0">Nor, as in Britain, let them curse delay <span class="ws10">}</span><span class="linenum">260</span></span> -<span class="i0">Of law, but borne without a form away—<span class="ws8">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Suspected, tried, condemn’d, and carted in a day; }</span> -<span class="i0">Oh! let them taste what they so much approve,</span> -<span class="i0">These strong fierce freedoms of the land they love<a name="FNanchor_2_2" id="FNanchor_2_2"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_2" class="fnanchor">[2]</a>.”</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span> -<span class="i2">Home came our hero, to forget no more</span> -<span class="i0">The fear he felt and ever most deplore:</span> -<span class="i0">For, though he quickly join’d his friends again,</span> -<span class="i0">And could with decent force his themes maintain,</span> -<span class="i0">Still it occurr’d that, in a luckless time,</span> -<span class="i0">He fail’d to fight with heresy and crime; <span class="linenum">270</span></span> -<span class="i0">It was observed his words were not so strong,</span> -<span class="i0">His tones so powerful, his harangues so long,</span> -<span class="i0">As in old times—for he would often drop</span> -<span class="i0">The lofty look, and of a sudden stop;</span> -<span class="i0">When conscience whisper’d, that he once was still,</span> -<span class="i0">And let the wicked triumph at their will;</span> -<span class="i0">And therefore now, when not a foe was near,</span> -<span class="i0">He had no right so valiant to appear.</span> -<span class="i2">Some years had pass’d, and he perceived his fears</span> -<span class="i0">Yield to the spirit of his earlier years— <span class="linenum">280</span></span> -<span class="i0">When at a meeting, with his friends beside,</span> -<span class="i0">He saw an object that awaked his pride;</span> -<span class="i0">His shame, wrath, vengeance, indignation—all</span> -<span class="i0">Man’s harsher feelings did that sight recall.</span> -<span class="i2">For lo! beneath him fix’d, our man of law</span> -<span class="i0">That lawless man the foe of order saw—</span> -<span class="i0">Once fear’d, now scorn’d; once dreaded, now abhorr’d;</span> -<span class="i0">A wordy man, and evil every word.</span> -<span class="i0">Again he gazed—“It is,” said he, “the same;</span> -<span class="i0">Caught and secure: his master owes him shame:” <span class="linenum">290</span></span> -<span class="i0">So thought our hero, who each instant found</span> -<span class="i0">His courage rising, from the numbers round.</span> -<span class="i2">As when a felon has escaped and fled,</span> -<span class="i0">So long, that law conceives the culprit dead;</span> -<span class="i0">And back recall’d her myrmidons, intent</span> -<span class="i0">On some new game, and with a stronger scent;</span> -<span class="i0">Till she beholds him in a place, where none</span> -<span class="i0">Could have conceived the culprit would have gone;</span> -<span class="i0">There he sits upright in his seat, secure,</span> -<span class="i0">As one whose conscience is correct and pure; <span class="linenum">300</span></span> -<span class="i0">This rouses anger for the old offence,</span> -<span class="i0">And scorn for all such seeming and pretence:</span> -<span class="i0">So on this Hammond look’d our hero bold,</span> -<span class="i0">Rememb’ring well that vile offence of old;</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span> -<span class="i0">And now he saw the rebel dared t’ intrude<span class="ws14">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Among the pure, the loyal, and the good;<span class="ws15">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">The crime provoked his wrath, the folly stirr’d his blood. }</span> -<span class="i0">Nor wonder was it if so strange a sight</span> -<span class="i0">Caused joy with vengeance, terror with delight;</span> -<span class="i0">Terror like this a tiger might create,<span class="ws14">}</span><span class="linenum">310</span></span> -<span class="i0">A joy like that to see his captive state,<span class="ws12">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">At once to know his force and then decree his fate. }</span> -<span class="i2">Hammond, much praised by numerous friends, was come</span> -<span class="i0">To read his lectures, so admired at home:</span> -<span class="i0">Historic lectures, where he loved to mix</span> -<span class="i0">His free plain hints on modern politics.</span> -<span class="i0">Here, he had heard, that numbers had design,</span> -<span class="i0">Their business finish’d, to sit down and dine;</span> -<span class="i0">This gave him pleasure, for he judged it right</span> -<span class="i0">To show by day, that he could speak at night. <span class="linenum">320</span></span> -<span class="i0">Rash the design—for he perceived, too late,</span> -<span class="i0">Not one approving friend beside him sate;</span> -<span class="i0">The greater number, whom he traced around,</span> -<span class="i0">Were men in black, and he conceived they frown’d.</span> -<span class="i0">“I will not speak,” he thought; “no pearls of mine</span> -<span class="i0">Shall be presented to this herd of swine;”</span> -<span class="i0">Not this avail’d him, when he cast his eye</span> -<span class="i0">On Justice Bolt; he could not fight, nor fly.</span> -<span class="i0">He saw a man to whom he gave the pain,</span> -<span class="i0">Which now he felt must be return’d again; <span class="linenum">330</span></span> -<span class="i0">His conscience told him with what keen delight</span> -<span class="i0">He, at that time, enjoy’d a stranger’s fright;</span> -<span class="i0">That stranger now befriended—he alone,</span> -<span class="i0">For all his insult, friendless, to atone;</span> -<span class="i0">Now he could feel it cruel that a heart</span> -<span class="i0">Should be distress’d, and none to take its part;</span> -<span class="i0">“Though one by one,” said Pride, “I would defy }</span> -<span class="i0">Much greater men, yet meeting every eye, <span class="ws6">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">I do confess a fear—but he will pass me by.”<span class="ws4">}</span></span> -<span class="i2">Vain hope! the Justice saw the foe’s distress, <span class="linenum">340</span></span> -<span class="i0">With exultation he could not suppress;</span> -<span class="i0">He felt the fish was hook’d—and so forbore,</span> -<span class="i0">In playful spite, to draw it to the shore.</span> -<span class="i0">Hammond look’d round again; but none were near,</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span> -<span class="i0">With friendly smile, to still his growing fear;</span> -<span class="i0">But all above him seem’d a solemn row</span> -<span class="i0">Of priests and deacons, so they seem’d below;</span> -<span class="i0">He wonder’d who his right-hand man might be—</span> -<span class="i0">Vicar of Holt cum Uppingham was he;</span> -<span class="i0">And who the man of that dark frown possess’d— <span class="linenum">350</span></span> -<span class="i0">Rector of Bradley and of Barton-west;</span> -<span class="i0">“A pluralist,” he growl’d—but check’d the word,</span> -<span class="i0">That warfare might not, by his zeal, be stirr’d.</span> -<span class="i2">But now began the man above to show</span> -<span class="i0">Fierce looks and threat’nings to the man below;</span> -<span class="i0">Who had some thoughts his peace by flight to seek—</span> -<span class="i0">But how then lecture, if he dared not speak!—</span> -<span class="i2">Now as the Justice for the war prepared,</span> -<span class="i0">He seem’d just then to question if he dared:</span> -<span class="i0">“He may resist, although his power be small, <span class="linenum">360</span></span> -<span class="i0">And growing desperate may defy us all;</span> -<span class="i0">One dog attack, and he prepares for flight—</span> -<span class="i0">Resist another, and he strives to bite;</span> -<span class="i0">Nor can I say, if this rebellious cur</span> -<span class="i0">Will fly for safety, or will scorn to stir.”</span> -<span class="i0">Alarm’d by this, he lash’d his soul to rage,</span> -<span class="i0">Burn’d with strong shame, and hurried to engage.</span> -<span class="i2">As a male turkey straggling on the green,</span> -<span class="i0">When by fierce harriers, terriers, mongrels seen,</span> -<span class="i0">He feels the insult of the noisy train, <span class="linenum">370</span></span> -<span class="i0">And sculks aside, though moved by much disdain;</span> -<span class="i0">But when that turkey, at his own barn-door,</span> -<span class="i0">Sees one poor straying puppy and no more,</span> -<span class="i0">(A foolish puppy who had left the pack,</span> -<span class="i0">Thoughtless what foe was threat’ning at his back,)</span> -<span class="i0">He moves about, as ship prepared to sail,</span> -<span class="i0">He hoists his proud rotundity of tail,</span> -<span class="i0">The half-seal’d eyes and changeful neck he shows,</span> -<span class="i0">Where, in its quick’ning colours, vengeance glows;</span> -<span class="i0">From red to blue the pendant wattles turn, <span class="linenum">380</span></span> -<span class="i0">Blue mix’d with red, as matches when they burn;</span> -<span class="i0">And thus th’ intruding snarler to oppose,</span> -<span class="i0">Urged by enkindling wrath, he gobbling goes.</span> -<span class="i2">So look’d our hero in his wrath, his cheeks</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span> -<span class="i0">Flush’d with fresh fires and glow’d in tingling streaks;</span> -<span class="i0">His breath by passion’s force awhile restrain’d,</span> -<span class="i0">Like a stopp’d current, greater force regain’d;</span> -<span class="i0">So spoke, so look’d he, every eye and ear</span> -<span class="i0">Were fix’d to view him, or were turn’d to hear.</span> -<span class="i2">“My friends, you know me, you can witness all, <span class="linenum">390</span></span> -<span class="i0">How, urged by passion, I restrain my gall;</span> -<span class="i0">And every motive to revenge withstand—</span> -<span class="i0">Save when I hear abused my native land.</span> -<span class="i2">“Is it not known, agreed, confirm’d, confess’d,</span> -<span class="i0">That of all people, we are govern’d best?</span> -<span class="i0">We have the force of monarchies; are free,</span> -<span class="i0">As the most proud republicans can be;</span> -<span class="i0">And have those prudent counsels that arise</span> -<span class="i0">In grave and cautious aristocracies;</span> -<span class="i0">And live there those, in such all-glorious state, <span class="linenum">400</span></span> -<span class="i0">Traitors protected in the land they hate?</span> -<span class="i0">Rebels, still warring with the laws that give</span> -<span class="i0">To them subsistence?—Yes, such wretches live.</span> -<span class="i2">“Ours is a church reform’d, and now no more</span> -<span class="i0">Is aught for man to mend or to restore;</span> -<span class="i0">’Tis pure in doctrines, ’tis correct in creeds,</span> -<span class="i0">Has nought redundant, and it nothing needs;</span> -<span class="i0">No evil is therein—no wrinkle, spot,</span> -<span class="i0">Stain, blame, or blemish:—I affirm there’s not.</span> -<span class="i2">“All this you know—now mark what once befell, <span class="linenum">410</span></span> -<span class="i0">With grief I bore it, and with shame I tell;</span> -<span class="i0">I was entrapp’d—yes, so it came to pass,</span> -<span class="i0">’Mid heathen rebels, a tumultuous class;</span> -<span class="i0">Each to his country bore a hellish mind,</span> -<span class="i0">Each like his neighbour was of cursèd kind;</span> -<span class="i0">The land that nursed them they blasphemed; the laws,</span> -<span class="i0">Their sovereign’s glory, and their country’s cause;</span> -<span class="i0">And who their mouth, their master-fiend, and who</span> -<span class="i0">Rebellion’s oracle?——You, caitiff, you!”</span> -<span class="i2">He spoke, and standing stretch’d his mighty arm, <span class="linenum">420</span></span> -<span class="i0">And fix’d the man of words, as by a charm.</span> -<span class="i2">“How raved that railer! Sure some hellish power</span> -<span class="i0">Restrain’d my tongue in that delirious hour,</span> -<span class="i0">Or I had hurl’d the shame and vengeance due</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span> -<span class="i0">On him, the guide of that infuriate crew;</span> -<span class="i0">But to mine eyes such dreadful looks appear’d,</span> -<span class="i0">Such mingled yell of lying words I heard,</span> -<span class="i0">That I conceived around were dæmons all,</span> -<span class="i0">And till I fled the house, I fear’d its fall.</span> -<span class="i2">“Oh! could our country from our coasts expel <span class="linenum">430</span></span> -<span class="i0">Such foes! to nourish those who wish her well:</span> -<span class="i0">This her mild laws forbid, but we may still</span> -<span class="i0">From us eject them by our sovereign will;</span> -<span class="i0">This let us do.”—He said, and then began</span> -<span class="i0">A gentler feeling for the silent man;</span> -<span class="i0">Ev’n in our hero’s mighty soul arose</span> -<span class="i0">A touch of pity for experienced woes;</span> -<span class="i0">But this was transient, and with angry eye</span> -<span class="i0">He sternly look’d, and paused for a reply.</span> -<span class="i2">’Twas then the man of many words would speak— <span class="linenum">440</span></span> -<span class="i0">But, in his trial, had them all to seek:</span> -<span class="i0">To find a friend he look’d the circle round,</span> -<span class="i0">But joy or scorn in every feature found;</span> -<span class="i0">He sipp’d his wine, but in those times of dread</span> -<span class="i0">Wine only adds confusion to the head;</span> -<span class="i0">In doubt he reason’d with himself—“And how</span> -<span class="i0">Harangue at night, if I be silent now?”</span> -<span class="i0">From pride and praise received he sought to draw</span> -<span class="i0">Courage to speak, but still remain’d the awe;</span> -<span class="i0">One moment rose he with a forced disdain, <span class="linenum">450</span></span> -<span class="i0">And then, abash’d, sunk sadly down again;</span> -<span class="i0">While in our hero’s glance he seem’d to read,</span> -<span class="i0">“Slave and insurgent! what hast thou to plead?”—</span> -<span class="i2">By desperation urged, he now began:</span> -<span class="i0">“I seek no favour—I—the Rights of Man!</span> -<span class="i0">Claim; and I—nay!—but give me leave—and I</span> -<span class="i0">Insist—a man—that is—and, in reply,</span> -<span class="i0">I speak.”—Alas! each new attempt was vain:</span> -<span class="i0">Confused he stood, he sate, he rose again;</span> -<span class="i0">At length he growl’d defiance, sought the door, <span class="linenum">460</span></span> -<span class="i0">Cursed the whole synod, and was seen no more.</span> -<span class="i2">“Laud we,” said Justice Bolt, “the Powers above;</span> -<span class="i0">Thus could our speech the sturdiest foe remove.”</span> -<span class="i0">Exulting now he gain’d new strength of fame,</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span> -<span class="i0">And lost all feelings of defeat and shame.</span> -<span class="i2">“He dared not strive, you witness’d—dared not lift</span> -<span class="i0">His voice, nor drive at his accursed drift:</span> -<span class="i0">So all shall tremble, wretches who oppose</span> -<span class="i0">Our church or state—thus be it to our foes.”</span> -<span class="i2">He spoke, and, seated with his former air, <span class="linenum">470</span></span> -<span class="i0">Look’d his full self, and fill’d his ample chair;</span> -<span class="i0">Took one full bumper to each favourite cause, <span class="ws12">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">And dwelt all night on politics and laws,<span class="ws17">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">With high applauding voice, that gain’d him high applause. }</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span> -</div></div></div> - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> -<h3>TALE II.</h3> -<p class="f110"><i>THE PARTING HOUR.</i></p> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poem2"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i6">I did not take my leave of him, but had</span> -<span class="i0">Most pretty things to say: ere I could tell him</span> -<span class="i0">How I would think of him, at certain hours,</span> -<span class="i0">Such thoughts and such [.............</span> -<span class="i0">......] or ere I could</span> -<span class="i0">Give him that parting kiss, which I had set</span> -<span class="i0">Betwixt two charming words—comes in my father—</span> -<span class="i29"><i>Cymbeline</i>, Act I. Scene 3.<br /><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Grief hath changed me since you saw me last,</span> -<span class="i0">And careful hours with Time’s deformèd hand</span> -<span class="i0">Have written strange defeatures [in] my face.</span> -<span class="i23"><i>Comedy of Errors</i>, Act V. Scene 1.<br /><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Oh! if thou be the same [Ægeon], speak,</span> -<span class="i0">And speak unto the same [Æmilia].</span> -<span class="i23"><i>Comedy of Errors</i>, Act V. Scene 1.<br /><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I ran it through, ev’n from my boyish days</span> -<span class="i0">To the very moment that [he bade] me tell it,</span> -<span class="i0">Wherein I spake of most disastrous chances,</span> -<span class="i0">Of moving accidents, by flood, and field;</span> -<span class="i0">Of being taken by [the] insolent foe</span> -<span class="i0">And sold to slavery.</span> -<span class="i31"><i>Othello</i>, Act I. Scene 3.<br /><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">An old man, broken with the storms of [state],</span> -<span class="i0">Is come to lay his weary bones among [ye];</span> -<span class="i0">Give him a little earth for charity.</span> -<span class="i27"><i>Henry VIII.</i> Act IV. Scene 2.</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="f120 break space-above2"><b>TALE II.</b></p> -<p class="f110"><i>THE PARTING HOUR.</i></p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Minutely trace man’s life; year after year,</span> -<span class="i0">Through all his days let all his deeds appear,</span> -<span class="i0">And then, though some may in that life be strange,</span> -<span class="i0">Yet there appears no vast nor sudden change;</span> -<span class="i0">The links that bind those various deeds are seen,</span> -<span class="i0">And no mysterious void is left between.</span> -<span class="i2">But let these binding links be all destroy’d,</span> -<span class="i0">All that through years he suffer’d or enjoy’d;</span> -<span class="i0">Let that vast gap be made, and then behold—</span> -<span class="i0">This was the youth, and he is thus when old; <span class="linenum">10</span></span> -<span class="i0">Then we at once the work of Time survey,</span> -<span class="i0">And in an instant see a life’s decay:</span> -<span class="i0">Pain[s] mix’d with pity in our bosoms rise,</span> -<span class="i0">And sorrow takes new sadness from surprise.</span> -<span class="i2">Beneath yon tree, observe an ancient pair— }</span> -<span class="i0">A sleeping man; a woman in her chair,<span class="ws8">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Watching his looks with kind and pensive air; }</span> -<span class="i0">No wife, nor sister she, nor is the name</span> -<span class="i0">Nor kindred of this friendly pair the same;</span> -<span class="i0">Yet so allied are they, that few can feel <span class="linenum">20</span></span> -<span class="i0">Her constant, warm, unwearied, anxious zeal,</span> -<span class="i0">Their years and woes, although they long have loved,</span> -<span class="i0">Keep their good name and conduct unreproved;</span> -<span class="i0">Thus life’s small comforts they together share,</span> -<span class="i0">And while life lingers for the grave prepare.</span> -<span class="i2">No other subjects on their spirits press,</span> -<span class="i0">Nor gain such int’rest as the past distress;</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span> -<span class="i0">Grievous events that from the mem’ry drive</span> -<span class="i0">Life’s common cares, and those alone survive,</span> -<span class="i0">Mix with each thought, in every action share, <span class="linenum">30</span></span> -<span class="i0">Darken each dream, and blend with every prayer.</span> -<span class="i2">To David Booth, his fourth and last-born boy,</span> -<span class="i0">Allen his name, was more than common joy;</span> -<span class="i0">And as the child grew up, there seem’d in him</span> -<span class="i0">A more than common life in every limb;</span> -<span class="i0">A strong and handsome stripling he became,</span> -<span class="i0">And the gay spirit answer’d to the frame;</span> -<span class="i0">A lighter, happier lad was never seen,</span> -<span class="i0">For ever easy, cheerful, or serene;</span> -<span class="i0">His early love he fix’d upon a fair <span class="linenum">40</span></span> -<span class="i0">And gentle maid—they were a handsome pair.</span> -<span class="i2">They at an infant-school together play’d,</span> -<span class="i0">Where the foundation of their love was laid;</span> -<span class="i0">The boyish champion would his choice attend</span> -<span class="i0">In every sport, in every fray defend.</span> -<span class="i0">As prospects open’d and as life advanced,</span> -<span class="i0">They walk’d together, they together danced;</span> -<span class="i0">On all occasions, from their early years,</span> -<span class="i0">They mix’d their joys and sorrows, hopes and fears;</span> -<span class="i0">Each heart was anxious, till it could impart <span class="linenum">50</span></span> -<span class="i0">Its daily feelings to its kindred heart;</span> -<span class="i0">As years increased, unnumber’d petty wars</span> -<span class="i0">Broke out between them; jealousies and jars;</span> -<span class="i0">Causeless indeed, and follow’d by a peace,</span> -<span class="i0">That gave to love—growth, vigour, and increase.</span> -<span class="i0">Whilst yet a boy, when other minds are void,</span> -<span class="i0">Domestic thoughts young Allen’s hours employ’d;</span> -<span class="i0">Judith in gaining hearts had no concern,</span> -<span class="i0">Rather intent the matron’s part to learn;</span> -<span class="i0">Thus early prudent and sedate they grew, <span class="linenum">60</span></span> -<span class="i0">While lovers, thoughtful—and, though children, true.</span> -<span class="i0">To either parents not a day appear’d,</span> -<span class="i0">When with this love they might have interfered:</span> -<span class="i0">Childish at first, they cared not to restrain;</span> -<span class="i0">And strong at last, they saw restriction vain;</span> -<span class="i0">Nor knew they when that passion to reprove—</span> -<span class="i0">Now idle fondness, now resistless love.</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span> -<span class="i2">So, while the waters rise, the children tread</span> -<span class="i0">On the broad estuary’s sandy bed;</span> -<span class="i0">But soon the channel fills, from side to side <span class="linenum">70</span></span> -<span class="i0">Comes danger rolling with the deep’ning tide;</span> -<span class="i0">Yet none who saw the rapid current flow</span> -<span class="i0">Could the first instant of that danger know.</span> -<span class="i2">The lovers waited till the time should come</span> -<span class="i0">When they together could possess a home:</span> -<span class="i0">In either house were men and maids unwed,</span> -<span class="i0">Hopes to be soothed, and tempers to be led.</span> -<span class="i0">Then Allen’s mother of his favourite maid</span> -<span class="i0">Spoke from the feelings of a mind afraid:</span> -<span class="i0">“Dress and amusements were her sole employ,” <span class="linenum">80</span></span> -<span class="i0">She said—“entangling her deluded boy;”</span> -<span class="i0">And yet, in truth, a mother’s jealous love</span> -<span class="i0">Had much imagined and could little prove;</span> -<span class="i0">Judith had beauty—and, if vain, was kind,</span> -<span class="i0">Discreet, and mild, and had a serious mind.</span> -<span class="i2">Dull was their prospect—when the lovers met,</span> -<span class="i0">They said, we must not—dare not venture yet:</span> -<span class="i0">“Oh! could I labour for thee,” Allen cried,</span> -<span class="i0">“Why should our friends be thus dissatisfied?</span> -<span class="i0">On my own arm I could depend, but they<span class="ws11">}</span><span class="linenum">90</span></span> -<span class="i0">Still urge obedience—must I yet obey?”<span class="ws12">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Poor Judith felt the grief, but grieving begg’d delay.  }</span> -<span class="i2">At length a prospect came that seem’d to smile,</span> -<span class="i0">And faintly woo them, from a Western Isle.</span> -<span class="i0">A kinsman there a widow’s hand had gain’d,</span> -<span class="i0">“Was old, was rich, and childless yet remain’d;</span> -<span class="i0">Would some young Booth to his affairs attend,</span> -<span class="i0">And wait awhile, he might expect a friend.”</span> -<span class="i0">The elder brothers, who were not in love,</span> -<span class="i0">Fear’d the false seas, unwilling to remove; <span class="linenum">100</span></span> -<span class="i0">But the young Allen, an enamour’d boy,</span> -<span class="i0">Eager an independence to enjoy,</span> -<span class="i0">Would through all perils seek it—by the sea—</span> -<span class="i0">Through labour, danger, pain, or slavery.</span> -<span class="i0">The faithful Judith his design approved;</span> -<span class="i0">For both were sanguine, they were young and loved.</span> -<span class="i0">The mother’s slow consent was then obtain’d;</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span> -<span class="i0">The time arrived, to part alone remain’d.</span> -<span class="i0">All things prepared, on the expected day</span> -<span class="i0">Was seen the vessel anchor’d in the bay. <span class="linenum">110</span></span> -<span class="i0">From her would seamen in the evening come,</span> -<span class="i0">To take th’ advent’rous Allen from his home;</span> -<span class="i0">With his own friends the final day he pass’d,</span> -<span class="i0">And every painful hour, except the last.</span> -<span class="i0">The grieving father urged the cheerful glass,</span> -<span class="i0">To make the moments with less sorrow pass;</span> -<span class="i0">Intent the mother look’d upon her son,</span> -<span class="i0">And wish’d th’ assent withdrawn, the deed undone;</span> -<span class="i0">The younger sister, as he took his way,</span> -<span class="i0">Hung on his coat, and begg’d for more delay: <span class="linenum">120</span></span> -<span class="i0">But his own Judith call’d him to the shore,</span> -<span class="i0">Whom he must meet, for they might meet no more;—</span> -<span class="i0">And there he found her—faithful, mournful, true,</span> -<span class="i0">Weeping and waiting for a last adieu!</span> -<span class="i0">The ebbing tide had left the sand, and there</span> -<span class="i0">Moved with slow steps the melancholy pair:</span> -<span class="i0">Sweet were the painful moments—but how sweet,</span> -<span class="i0">And without pain, when they again should meet!</span> -<span class="i0">Now either spoke, as hope and fear impress’d</span> -<span class="i0">Each their alternate triumph in the breast. <span class="linenum">130</span></span> -<span class="i2">Distance alarm’d the maid—she cried, “’Tis far!”</span> -<span class="i0">And danger too—“it is a time of war.</span> -<span class="i0">Then, in those countries are diseases strange,</span> -<span class="i0">And women gay, and men are prone to change;</span> -<span class="i0">What, then, may happen in a year, when things</span> -<span class="i0">Of vast importance every moment brings!</span> -<span class="i0">But hark! an oar!” she cried, yet none appear’d—</span> -<span class="i0">’Twas love’s mistake, who fancied what it fear’d;</span> -<span class="i0">And she continued—“Do, my Allen, keep</span> -<span class="i0">Thy heart from evil, let thy passions sleep; <span class="linenum">140</span></span> -<span class="i0">Believe it good, nay glorious, to prevail,</span> -<span class="i0">And stand in safety where so many fail;</span> -<span class="i0">And do not, Allen, or for shame, or pride,</span> -<span class="i0">Thy faith abjure, or thy profession hide;</span> -<span class="i0">Can I believe <i>his</i> love will lasting prove,</span> -<span class="i0">Who has no rev’rence for the God I love?</span> -<span class="i0">I know thee well! how good thou art and kind;</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span> -<span class="i0">But strong the passions that invade thy mind.—</span> -<span class="i0">Now, what to me hath Allen to commend?”—</span> -<span class="i0">“Upon my mother,” said the youth, “attend; <span class="linenum">150</span></span> -<span class="i0">Forget her spleen, and in my place appear;</span> -<span class="i0">Her love to me will make my Judith dear:</span> -<span class="i0">Oft I shall think (such comfort lovers seek),</span> -<span class="i0">Who speaks of me, and fancy what they speak;</span> -<span class="i0">Then write on all occasions, always dwell</span> -<span class="i0">On hope’s fair prospects, and be kind and well,</span> -<span class="i0">And ever choose the fondest, tenderest style.”</span> -<span class="i0">She answer’d, “No,” but answer’d with a smile.</span> -<span class="i0">“And now, my Judith, at so sad a time,</span> -<span class="i0">Forgive my fear, and call it not my crime; <span class="linenum">160</span></span> -<span class="i0">When with our youthful neighbours ’tis thy chance</span> -<span class="i0">To meet in walks, the visit or the dance,</span> -<span class="i0">When every lad would on my lass attend,</span> -<span class="i0">Choose not a smooth designer for a friend;</span> -<span class="i0">That fawning Philip!—nay, be not severe,</span> -<span class="i0">A rival’s hope must cause a lover’s fear.”</span> -<span class="i2">Displeased she felt, and might in her reply</span> -<span class="i0">Have mix’d some anger, but the boat was nigh,</span> -<span class="i0">Now truly heard!—it soon was full in sight;—</span> -<span class="i0">Now the sad farewell, and the long good-night; <span class="linenum">170</span></span> -<span class="i0">For, see!—his friends come hast’ning to the beach,</span> -<span class="i0">And now the gunwale is within the reach;</span> -<span class="i0">“Adieu!—farewell!—remember!”—and what more</span> -<span class="i0">Affection taught, was utter’d from the shore!</span> -<span class="i0">But Judith left them with a heavy heart,</span> -<span class="i0">Took a last view, and went to weep apart!</span> -<span class="i0">And now his friends went slowly from the place,</span> -<span class="i0">Where she stood still, the dashing oar to trace,</span> -<span class="i0">Till all were silent!—for the youth she pray’d,</span> -<span class="i0">And softly then return’d the weeping maid. <span class="linenum">180</span></span> -<span class="i2">They parted, thus by hope and fortune led,</span> -<span class="i0">And Judith’s hours in pensive pleasure fled.</span> -<span class="i0">But when return’d the youth?—the youth no more</span> -<span class="i0">Return’d exulting to his native shore.</span> -<span class="i0">But forty years were past, and then there came<span class="ws13">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">A worn-out man with wither’d limbs and lame, <span class="ws12">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">His mind oppress’d with woes, and bent with age his frame: }</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span> -<span class="i0">Yes! old and grieved, and trembling with decay, <span class="ws9">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Was Allen landing in his native bay,<span class="ws19">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Willing his breathless form should blend with kindred clay. }</span> -<span class="i0">In an autumnal eve he left the beach, <span class="linenum">191</span></span> -<span class="i0">In such an eve he chanced the port to reach.</span> -<span class="i0">He was alone; he press’d the very place</span> -<span class="i0">Of the sad parting, of the last embrace:</span> -<span class="i0">There stood his parents, there retired the maid,</span> -<span class="i0">So fond, so tender, and so much afraid;</span> -<span class="i0">And on that spot, through many a year, his mind</span> -<span class="i0">Turn’d mournful back, half sinking, half resign’d.</span> -<span class="i2">No one was present; of its crew bereft,</span> -<span class="i0">A single boat was in the billows left; <span class="linenum">200</span></span> -<span class="i0">Sent from some anchor’d vessel in the bay,</span> -<span class="i0">At the returning tide to sail away.</span> -<span class="i0">O’er the black stern the moonlight softly play’d,</span> -<span class="i0">The loosen’d foresail flapping in the shade;</span> -<span class="i0">All silent else on shore; but from the town</span> -<span class="i0">A drowsy peal of distant bells came down;</span> -<span class="i0">From the tall houses here and there, a light</span> -<span class="i0">Served some confused remembrance to excite:</span> -<span class="i0">“There,” he observed, and new emotions felt,</span> -<span class="i0">“Was my first home—and yonder Judith dwelt; <span class="linenum">210</span></span> -<span class="i0">Dead! dead are all! I long—I fear to know,”</span> -<span class="i0">He said, and walk’d impatient, and yet slow.</span> -<span class="i2">Sudden there broke upon his grief a noise</span> -<span class="i0">Of merry tumult and of vulgar joys:</span> -<span class="i0">Seamen returning to their ship, were come,</span> -<span class="i0">With idle numbers straying from their home;</span> -<span class="i0">Allen among them mix’d, and in the old</span> -<span class="i0">Strove some familiar features to behold;</span> -<span class="i0">While fancy aided memory;—“Man! what cheer?”</span> -<span class="i0">A sailor cried; “Art thou at anchor here?” <span class="linenum">220</span></span> -<span class="i0">Faintly he answer’d, and then tried to trace</span> -<span class="i0">Some youthful features in some aged face;</span> -<span class="i0">A swarthy matron he beheld, and thought</span> -<span class="i0">She might unfold the very truths he sought;</span> -<span class="i0">Confused and trembling, he the dame address’d:</span> -<span class="i0">“The Booths! yet live they?” pausing and oppress’d;</span> -<span class="i0">Then spake again:—“Is there no ancient man,</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span> -<span class="i0">David his name?—assist me, if you can.—</span> -<span class="i0">Flemmings there were—and Judith, doth she live?”</span> -<span class="i0">The woman gazed, nor could an answer give; <span class="linenum">230</span></span> -<span class="i0">Yet wond’ring stood, and all were silent by,</span> -<span class="i0">Feeling a strange and solemn sympathy.</span> -<span class="i0">The woman musing said—“She knew full well</span> -<span class="i0">Where the old people came at last to dwell;</span> -<span class="i0">They had a married daughter and a son,</span> -<span class="i0">But they were dead, and now remain’d not one.”</span> -<span class="i2">“Yes,” said an elder, who had paused intent</span> -<span class="i0">On days long past, “there was a sad event;—</span> -<span class="i0">One of these Booths—it was my mother’s tale—</span> -<span class="i0">Here left his lass, I know not where to sail; <span class="linenum">240</span></span> -<span class="i0">She saw their parting, and observed the pain;</span> -<span class="i0">But never came th’ unhappy man again.”</span> -<span class="i0">“The ship was captured”—Allen meekly said,</span> -<span class="i0">“And what became of the forsaken maid?”</span> -<span class="i0">The woman answer’d: “I remember now,</span> -<span class="i0">She used to tell the lasses of her vow,</span> -<span class="i0">And of her lover’s loss, and I have seen</span> -<span class="i0">The gayest hearts grow sad where she has been;</span> -<span class="i0">Yet in her grief she married, and was made</span> -<span class="i0">Slave to a wretch, whom meekly she obey’d <span class="linenum">250</span></span> -<span class="i0">And early buried—but I know no more.</span> -<span class="i0">And hark! our friends are hast’ning to the shore.”</span> -<span class="i2">Allen soon found a lodging in the town,</span> -<span class="i0">And walk’d, a man unnoticed, up and down.</span> -<span class="i0">This house, and this, he knew, and thought a face</span> -<span class="i0">He sometimes could among a number trace;</span> -<span class="i0">Of names remember’d there remain’d a few,</span> -<span class="i0">But of no favourites, and the rest were new;</span> -<span class="i0">A merchant’s wealth, when Allen went to sea,</span> -<span class="i0">Was reckon’d boundless.—Could he living be? <span class="linenum">260</span></span> -<span class="i0">Or lived his son? for one he had, the heir</span> -<span class="i0">To a vast business, and a fortune fair.</span> -<span class="i0">No! but that heir’s poor widow, from her shed,</span> -<span class="i0">With crutches went to take her dole of bread.</span> -<span class="i0">There was a friend whom he had left a boy,</span> -<span class="i0">With hope to sail the master of a hoy;</span> -<span class="i0">Him, after many a stormy day, he found</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span> -<span class="i0">With his great wish, his life’s whole purpose, crown’d.</span> -<span class="i0">This hoy’s proud captain look’d in Allen’s face;—</span> -<span class="i0">“Yours is, my friend,” said he, “a woful case; <span class="linenum">270</span></span> -<span class="i0">We cannot all succeed; I now command</span> -<span class="i0">The Betsy sloop, and am not much at land;</span> -<span class="i0">But when we meet, you shall your story tell</span> -<span class="i0">Of foreign parts—I bid you now farewell!”</span> -<span class="i2">Allen so long had left his native shore,</span> -<span class="i0">He saw but few whom he had seen before;</span> -<span class="i0">The older people, as they met him, cast</span> -<span class="i0">A pitying look, oft speaking as they pass’d:—</span> -<span class="i0">“The man is Allen Booth, and it appears</span> -<span class="i0">He dwelt among us in his early years; <span class="linenum">280</span></span> -<span class="i0">We see the name engraved upon the stones,</span> -<span class="i0">Where this poor wanderer means to lay his bones.”</span> -<span class="i0">Thus where he lived and loved—unhappy change!—</span> -<span class="i0">He seems a stranger, and finds all are strange.</span> -<span class="i2">But now a widow, in a village near,</span> -<span class="i0">Chanced of the melancholy man to hear;</span> -<span class="i0">Old as she was, to Judith’s bosom came</span> -<span class="i0">Some strong emotions at the well-known name;</span> -<span class="i0">He was her much-loved Allen, she had stay’d</span> -<span class="i0">Ten troubled years, a sad afflicted maid; <span class="linenum">290</span></span> -<span class="i0">Then was she wedded, of his death assured,</span> -<span class="i0">And much of mis’ry in her lot endured;</span> -<span class="i0">Her husband died; her children sought their bread</span> -<span class="i0">In various places, and to her were dead.</span> -<span class="i0">The once fond lovers met; not grief nor age,</span> -<span class="i0">Sickness or pain, their hearts could disengage:</span> -<span class="i0">Each had immediate confidence; a friend</span> -<span class="i0">Both now beheld, on whom they might depend:</span> -<span class="i0">“Now is there one to whom I can express</span> -<span class="i0">My nature’s weakness and my soul’s distress.” <span class="linenum">300</span></span> -<span class="i0">Allen look’d up, and with impatient heart:—</span> -<span class="i0">“Let me not lose thee—never let us part;</span> -<span class="i0">So Heaven this comfort to my sufferings give,</span> -<span class="i0">It is not all distress to think and live.”</span> -<span class="i0">Thus Allen spoke—for time had not removed</span> -<span class="i0">The charms attach’d to one so fondly loved;</span> -<span class="i0">Who with more health, the mistress of their cot,</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span> -<span class="i0">Labours to soothe the evils of his lot.</span> -<span class="i0">To her, to her alone, his various fate,</span> -<span class="i0">At various times, ’tis comfort to relate; <span class="linenum">310</span></span> -<span class="i0">And yet his sorrow she too loves to hear</span> -<span class="i0">What wrings her bosom, and compels the tear.</span> -<span class="i2">First he related how he left the shore,</span> -<span class="i0">Alarm’d with fears that they should meet no more;</span> -<span class="i0">Then, ere the ship had reach’d her purposed course,</span> -<span class="i0">They met and yielded to the Spanish force;</span> -<span class="i0">Then ’cross th’ Atlantic seas they bore their prey,</span> -<span class="i0">Who grieving landed from their sultry bay;</span> -<span class="i0">And, marching many a burning league, he found</span> -<span class="i0">Himself a slave upon a miner’s ground: <span class="linenum">320</span></span> -<span class="i0">There a good priest his native language spoke,</span> -<span class="i0">And gave some ease to his tormenting yoke;</span> -<span class="i0">Kindly advanced him in his master’s grace,</span> -<span class="i0">And he was station’d in an easier place.</span> -<span class="i0">There, hopeless ever to escape the land,</span> -<span class="i0">He to a Spanish maiden gave his hand;</span> -<span class="i0">In cottage shelter’d from the blaze of day</span> -<span class="i0">He saw his happy infants round him play;</span> -<span class="i0">Where summer shadows, made by lofty trees,</span> -<span class="i0">Waved o’er his seat, and soothed his reveries; <span class="linenum">330</span></span> -<span class="i0">E’en then he thought of England, nor could sigh,</span> -<span class="i0">But his fond Isabel demanded, “Why?”</span> -<span class="i0">Grieved by the story, she the sigh repaid,</span> -<span class="i0">And wept in pity for the English maid:</span> -<span class="i0">Thus twenty years were pass’d, and pass’d his views</span> -<span class="i0">Of further bliss, for he had wealth to lose.</span> -<span class="i0">His friend now dead, some foe had dared to paint</span> -<span class="i0">“His faith as tainted: he his spouse would taint;</span> -<span class="i0">Make all his children infidels, and found</span> -<span class="i0">An English heresy on Christian ground.” <span class="linenum">340</span></span> -<span class="i2">“Whilst I was poor,” said Allen, “none would care</span> -<span class="i0">What my poor notions of religion were;</span> -<span class="i0">None ask’d me whom I worshipp’d, how I pray’d,</span> -<span class="i0">If due obedience to the laws were paid:</span> -<span class="i0">My good adviser taught me to be still,</span> -<span class="i0">Nor to make converts had I power or will.</span> -<span class="i0">I preached no foreign doctrine to my wife,</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span> -<span class="i0">And never mention’d Luther in my life;</span> -<span class="i0">I, all they said, say what they would, allow’d,</span> -<span class="i0">And when the fathers bade me bow, I bow’d; <span class="linenum">350</span></span> -<span class="i0">Their forms I follow’d, whether well or sick,</span> -<span class="i0">And was a most obedient Catholic.</span> -<span class="i0">But I had money, and these pastors found</span> -<span class="i0">My notions vague, heretical, unsound:</span> -<span class="i0">A wicked book they seized; the very Turk</span> -<span class="i0">Could not have read a more pernicious work;</span> -<span class="i0">To me pernicious, who if it were good</span> -<span class="i0">Or evil question’d not, nor understood:</span> -<span class="i0">Oh! had I little but the book possess’d,</span> -<span class="i0">I might have read it, and enjoy’d my rest.” <span class="linenum">360</span></span> -<span class="i2">Alas! poor Allen, through his wealth was seen</span> -<span class="i0">Crimes that by poverty conceal’d had been:</span> -<span class="i0">Faults that in dusty pictures rest unknown</span> -<span class="i0">Are in an instant through the varnish shown.</span> -<span class="i2">He told their cruel mercy: how at last,</span> -<span class="i0">In Christian kindness for the merits past,</span> -<span class="i0">They spared his forfeit life, but bade him fly,</span> -<span class="i0">Or for his crime and contumacy die;</span> -<span class="i0">Fly from all scenes, all objects of delight; <span class="ws10">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">His wife, his children, weeping in his sight,<span class="ws9">}</span><span class="linenum">370</span></span> -<span class="i0">All urging him to flee, he fled, and cursed his flight. }</span> -<span class="i2">He next related how he found a way,</span> -<span class="i0">Guideless and grieving, to Campeachy Bay:</span> -<span class="i0">There in the woods he wrought, and there, among</span> -<span class="i0">Some lab’ring seamen, heard his native tongue.</span> -<span class="i0">The sound, one moment, broke upon his pain</span> -<span class="i0">With joyful force; he long’d to hear again;</span> -<span class="i0">Again he heard; he seized an offer’d hand,</span> -<span class="i0">“And when beheld you last our native land?”</span> -<span class="i0">He cry’d, “and in what county? quickly say!”— <span class="linenum">380</span></span> -<span class="i0">The seamen answer’d, strangers all were they;</span> -<span class="i0">One only at his native port had been;</span> -<span class="i0">He, landing once, the quay and church had seen,</span> -<span class="i0">For that esteem’d; but nothing more he knew.</span> -<span class="i0">Still more to know, would Allen join the crew,</span> -<span class="i0">Sail where they sail’d; and, many a peril past,</span> -<span class="i0">They at his kinsman’s isle their anchor cast;</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span> -<span class="i0">But him they found not, nor could one relate</span> -<span class="i0">Aught of his will, his wish, or his estate.</span> -<span class="i0">This grieved not Allen; then again he sail’d <span class="linenum">390</span></span> -<span class="i0">For England’s coast, again his fate prevail’d:</span> -<span class="i0">War raged, and he, an active man and strong,</span> -<span class="i0">Was soon impress’d, and served his country long.</span> -<span class="i0">By various shores he pass’d, on various seas,</span> -<span class="i0">Never so happy as when void of ease.—</span> -<span class="i0">And then he told how, in a calm distress’d,</span> -<span class="i0">Day after day his soul was sick of rest;</span> -<span class="i0">When as a log upon the deep they stood,</span> -<span class="i0">Then roved his spirit to the inland wood;</span> -<span class="i0">Till, while awake, he dream’d, that on the seas <span class="linenum">400</span></span> -<span class="i0">Were his loved home, the hill, the stream, the trees.</span> -<span class="i0">He gazed, he pointed to the scenes:—“There stand</span> -<span class="i0">My wife, my children, ’tis my lovely land;</span> -<span class="i0">See! there my dwelling—oh! delicious scene</span> -<span class="i0">Of my best life—unhand me—are ye men?”</span> -<span class="i2">And thus the frenzy ruled him, till the wind</span> -<span class="i0">Brush’d the fond pictures from the stagnant mind.</span> -<span class="i2">He told of bloody fights, and how at length</span> -<span class="i0">The rage of battle gave his spirits strength.</span> -<span class="i0">’Twas in the Indian seas his limb he lost, <span class="linenum">410</span></span> -<span class="i0">And he was left half-dead upon the coast;</span> -<span class="i0">But living gain’d, ’mid rich aspiring men,</span> -<span class="i0">A fair subsistence by his ready pen.</span> -<span class="i0">“Thus,” he continued, “pass’d unvaried years,</span> -<span class="i0">Without events producing hopes or fears.”</span> -<span class="i0">Augmented pay procured him decent wealth,</span> -<span class="i0">But years advancing undermined his health;</span> -<span class="i0">Then oft-times in delightful dream he flew</span> -<span class="i0">To England’s shore, and scenes his childhood knew:</span> -<span class="i0">He saw his parents, saw his fav’rite maid, <span class="linenum">420</span></span> -<span class="i0">No feature wrinkled, not a charm decay’d;</span> -<span class="i0">And, thus excited, in his bosom rose</span> -<span class="i0">A wish so strong, it baffled his repose;</span> -<span class="i0">Anxious he felt on English earth to lie;</span> -<span class="i0">To view his native soil, and there to die.</span> -<span class="i2">He then described the gloom, the dread he found,</span> -<span class="i0">When first he landed on the chosen ground,</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span> -<span class="i0">Where undefined was all he hoped and fear’d,</span> -<span class="i0">And how confused and troubled all appear’d;</span> -<span class="i0">His thoughts in past and present scenes employ’d, <span class="linenum">430</span></span> -<span class="i0">All views in future blighted and destroy’d:</span> -<span class="i0">His were a medley of bewild’ring themes,</span> -<span class="i0">Sad as realities, and wild as dreams.</span> -<span class="i2">Here his relation closes, but his mind</span> -<span class="i0">Flies back again, some resting-place to find;</span> -<span class="i0">Thus silent, musing through the day, he sees</span> -<span class="i0">His children sporting by those lofty trees,</span> -<span class="i0">Their mother singing in the shady scene,</span> -<span class="i0">Where the fresh springs burst o’er the lively green;—</span> -<span class="i0">So strong his eager fancy, he affrights <span class="linenum">440</span></span> -<span class="i0">The faithful widow by its powerful flights;</span> -<span class="i0">For what disturbs him he aloud will tell,</span> -<span class="i0">And cry—“’Tis she, my wife! my Isabel!</span> -<span class="i0">Where are my children?”—Judith grieves to hear</span> -<span class="i0">How the soul works in sorrows so severe;</span> -<span class="i0">Assiduous all his wishes to attend,</span> -<span class="i0">Deprived of much, he yet may boast a friend;</span> -<span class="i0">Watch’d by her care, in sleep, his spirit takes</span> -<span class="i0">Its flight, and watchful finds her when he wakes.</span> -<span class="i2">’Tis now her office; her attention see! <span class="linenum">450</span></span> -<span class="i0">While her friend sleeps beneath that shading tree,</span> -<span class="i0">Careful she guards him from the glowing heat,</span> -<span class="i0">And pensive muses at her Allen’s feet.</span> -<span class="i2">And where is he? Ah! doubtless in those scenes</span> -<span class="i0">Of his best days, amid the vivid greens,</span> -<span class="i0">Fresh with unnumber’d rills, where ev’ry gale</span> -<span class="i0">Breathes the rich fragrance of the neighb’ring vale;</span> -<span class="i0">Smiles not his wife, and listens as there comes</span> -<span class="i0">The night-bird’s music from the thickening glooms?</span> -<span class="i0">And as he sits with all these treasures nigh, <span class="ws8">}</span><span class="linenum">460</span></span> -<span class="i0">Blaze not with fairy light the phosphor-fly, <span class="ws8">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">When like a sparkling gem it wheels illumined by?  }</span> -<span class="i0">This is the joy that now so plainly speaks</span> -<span class="i0">In the warm transient flushing of his cheeks;</span> -<span class="i0">For he is list’ning to the fancied noise</span> -<span class="i0">Of his own children, eager in their joys:</span> -<span class="i0">All this he feels, a dream’s delusive bliss</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span> -<span class="i0">Gives the expression, and the glow like this.</span> -<span class="i0">And now his Judith lays her knitting by,</span> -<span class="i0">These strong emotions in her friend to spy; <span class="linenum">470</span></span> -<span class="i0">For she can fully of their nature deem——<span class="ws11">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">But see! he breaks the long-protracted theme,<span class="ws9">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">And wakes and cries—“My God! ’twas but a dream.” }</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span> -</div></div> - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> -<h3>TALE III.</h3> -<p class="f110"><i>THE GENTLEMAN FARMER</i>.</p> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poem2"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i12">Pause [there...]<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And weigh thy value with an even hand;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">If thou beest rated by thy estimation,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Thou dost deserve enough.<br /></span> -<span class="i14"><i>Merchant of Venice</i>, Act II. Scene 7.<br /><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i2">Because I will not do them wrong to mistrust any, I will<br /></span> -<span class="i0">do myself the right to trust none; and the fine is (for which<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I may go the finer), I will live a bachelor.<br /></span> -<span class="i11"><i>Much Ado about Nothing</i>, Act I. Scene 1.<br /><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Throw physic to the dogs, I’ll none of it.<br /></span> -<span class="i23"><i>Macbeth</i>, Act V. Scene 3.<br /><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i4">His promises are, as he then was, mighty;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And his performance, as he now is, nothing.<br /></span> -<span class="i21"><i>Henry VIII</i>. Act IV. Scene 2.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="f120 break space-above2"><b>TALE III.</b></p> -<p class="f110"><i>THE GENTLEMAN FARMER.</i></p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Gwyn was a farmer, whom the farmers all,</span> -<span class="i0">Who dwelt around, the Gentleman would call;</span> -<span class="i0">Whether in pure humility or pride,</span> -<span class="i0">They only knew, and they would not decide.</span> -<span class="i2">Far diff’rent he from that dull plodding tribe,</span> -<span class="i0">Whom it was his amusement to describe;</span> -<span class="i0">Creatures no more enliven’d than a clod,</span> -<span class="i0">But treading still as their dull fathers trod;</span> -<span class="i0">Who lived in times when not a man had seen</span> -<span class="i0">Corn sown by drill, or thresh’d by a machine: <span class="linenum">10</span></span> -<span class="i0">He was of those whose skill assigns the prize</span> -<span class="i0">For creatures fed in pens, and stalls, and sties;</span> -<span class="i0">And who, in places where improvers meet,</span> -<span class="i0">To fill the land with fatness, had a seat;</span> -<span class="i0">Who in large mansions live like petty kings,</span> -<span class="i0">And speak of farms but as amusing things;</span> -<span class="i0">Who plans encourage, and who journals keep,</span> -<span class="i0">And talk with lords about a breed of sheep.</span> -<span class="i2">Two are the species in this genus known;</span> -<span class="i0">One, who is rich in his profession grown, <span class="linenum">20</span></span> -<span class="i0">Who yearly finds his ample stores increase,</span> -<span class="i0">From fortune’s favours and a favouring lease;</span> -<span class="i0">Who rides his hunter, who his house adorns;</span> -<span class="i0">Who drinks his wine, and his disbursements scorns,</span> -<span class="i0">Who freely lives, and loves to show he can—</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span> -<span class="i0">This is the farmer, made the gentleman.</span> -<span class="i2">The second species from the world is sent,</span> -<span class="i0">Tired with its strife, or with his wealth content;</span> -<span class="i0">In books and men beyond the former read,</span> -<span class="i0">To farming solely by a passion led, <span class="linenum">30</span></span> -<span class="i0">Or by a fashion; curious in his land;</span> -<span class="i0">Now planning much, now changing what he plann’d;</span> -<span class="i0">Pleased by each trial, not by failures vex’d,</span> -<span class="i0">And ever certain to succeed the next;</span> -<span class="i0">Quick to resolve, and easy to persuade—</span> -<span class="i0">This is the gentleman, a farmer made.</span> -<span class="i2">Gwyn was of these; he from the world withdrew</span> -<span class="i0">Early in life, his reasons known to few;</span> -<span class="i0">Some disappointment said, some pure good sense,</span> -<span class="i0">The love of land, the press of indolence; <span class="linenum">40</span></span> -<span class="i0">His fortune known, and coming to retire,</span> -<span class="i0">If not a farmer, men had call’d him ’squire.</span> -<span class="i2">Forty and five his years, no child or wife</span> -<span class="i0">Cross’d the still tenour of his chosen life;</span> -<span class="i0">Much land he purchased, planted far around,</span> -<span class="i0">And let some portions of superfluous ground</span> -<span class="i0">To farmers near him, not displeased to say,</span> -<span class="i0">“My tenants,” nor, “our worthy landlord,” they.</span> -<span class="i2">Fix’d in his farm, he soon display’d his skill</span> -<span class="i0">In small-boned lambs, the horse-hoe, and the drill; <span class="linenum">50</span></span> -<span class="i0">From these he rose to themes of nobler kind,</span> -<span class="i0">And show’d the riches of a fertile mind;</span> -<span class="i0">To all around their visits he repaid,</span> -<span class="i0">And thus his mansion and himself display’d.</span> -<span class="i0">His rooms were stately, rather fine than neat,</span> -<span class="i0">And guests politely call’d his house a seat;</span> -<span class="i0">At much expense was each apartment graced,</span> -<span class="i0">His taste was gorgeous, but it still was taste;</span> -<span class="i0">In full festoons the crimson curtains fell,</span> -<span class="i0">The sofas rose in bold elastic swell; <span class="linenum">60</span></span> -<span class="i0">Mirrors in gilded frames display’d the tints</span> -<span class="i0">Of glowing carpets and of colour’d prints;</span> -<span class="i0">The weary eye saw every object shine,</span> -<span class="i0">And all was costly, fanciful, and fine.</span> -<span class="i2">As with his friends he pass’d the social hours,</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span> -<span class="i0">His generous spirit scorn’d to hide its powers;</span> -<span class="i0">Powers unexpected, for his eye and air</span> -<span class="i0">Gave no sure signs that eloquence was there;</span> -<span class="i0">Oft he began with sudden fire and force,</span> -<span class="i0">As loth to lose occasion for discourse; <span class="linenum">70</span></span> -<span class="i0">Some, ’tis observed, who feel a wish to speak,</span> -<span class="i0">Will a due place for introduction seek;</span> -<span class="i0">On to their purpose step by step they steal,</span> -<span class="i0">And all their way, by certain signals, feel;</span> -<span class="i0">Others plunge in at once, and never heed</span> -<span class="i0">Whose turn they take, whose purpose they impede;</span> -<span class="i0">Resolved to shine, they hasten to begin,</span> -<span class="i0">Of ending thoughtless—and of these was Gwyn.</span> -<span class="i0">And thus he spake:</span> -<span class="i14">——“It grieves me to the soul</span> -<span class="i0">To see how man submits to man’s control; <span class="linenum">80</span></span> -<span class="i0">How overpower’d and shackled minds are led</span> -<span class="i0">In vulgar tracks, and to submission bred;</span> -<span class="i0">The coward never on himself relies,</span> -<span class="i0">But to an equal for assistance flies;</span> -<span class="i0">Man yields to custom as he bows to fate,</span> -<span class="i0">In all things ruled—mind, body, and estate;</span> -<span class="i0">In pain, in sickness, we for cure apply</span> -<span class="i0">To them we know not, and we know not why;</span> -<span class="i0">But that the creature has some jargon read,</span> -<span class="i0">And got some Scotchman’s system in his head; <span class="linenum">90</span></span> -<span class="i0">Some grave impostor, who will health insure,</span> -<span class="i0">Long as your patience or your wealth endure;</span> -<span class="i0">But mark them well, the pale and sickly crew,</span> -<span class="i0">They have not health, and can they give it you?</span> -<span class="i0">These solemn cheats their various methods choose;</span> -<span class="i0">A system fires them, as a bard his muse:</span> -<span class="i0">Hence wordy wars arise; the learn’d divide,</span> -<span class="i0">And groaning patients curse each erring guide.</span> -<span class="i2">“Next, our affairs are govern’d, buy or sell,</span> -<span class="i0">Upon the deed the law must fix its spell; <span class="linenum">100</span></span> -<span class="i0">Whether we hire or let, we must have still</span> -<span class="i0">The dubious aid of an attorney’s skill;</span> -<span class="i0">They take a part in every man’s affairs,</span> -<span class="i0">And in all business some concern is theirs;</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span> -<span class="i0">Because mankind in ways prescribed are found,</span> -<span class="i0">Like flocks that follow on a beaten ground,</span> -<span class="i0">Each abject nature in the way proceeds,</span> -<span class="i0">That now to shearing, now to slaughter leads.</span> -<span class="i2">“Should you offend, though meaning no offence,</span> -<span class="i0">You have no safety in your innocence; <span class="linenum">110</span></span> -<span class="i0">The statute broken then is placed in view,</span> -<span class="i0">And men must pay for crimes they never knew.</span> -<span class="i0">Who would by law regain his plunder’d store,</span> -<span class="i0">Would pick up fallen merc’ry from the floor;</span> -<span class="i0">If he pursue it, here and there it slides;</span> -<span class="i0">He would collect it, but it more divides;</span> -<span class="i0">This part and this he stops, but still in vain,</span> -<span class="i0">It slips aside, and breaks in parts again;</span> -<span class="i0">Till, after time and pains, and care and cost,</span> -<span class="i0">He finds his labour and his object lost. <span class="linenum">120</span></span> -<span class="i2">“But most it grieves me, (friends alone are round,)</span> -<span class="i0">To see a man in priestly fetters bound;</span> -<span class="i0">Guides to the soul, these friends of Heaven contrive,</span> -<span class="i0">Long as man lives, to keep his fears alive;</span> -<span class="i0">Soon as an infant breathes, their rites begin;</span> -<span class="i0">Who knows not sinning, must be freed from sin;</span> -<span class="i0">Who needs no bond must yet engage in vows;</span> -<span class="i0">Who has no judgment, must a creed espouse:</span> -<span class="i0">Advanced in life, our boys are bound by rules, }</span> -<span class="i0">Are catechised in churches, cloisters, schools, }<span class="linenum">130</span></span> -<span class="i0">And train’d in thraldom to be fit for tools;<span class="ws4">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">The youth grown up, he now a partner needs,</span> -<span class="i0">And lo! a priest, as soon as he succeeds.</span> -<span class="i0">What man of sense can marriage-rites approve?</span> -<span class="i0">What man of spirit can be bound to love?</span> -<span class="i0">Forced to be kind! compell’d to be sincere!</span> -<span class="i0">Do chains and fetters make companions dear?</span> -<span class="i0">Pris’ners indeed we bind; but though the bond</span> -<span class="i0">May keep them safe, it does not make them fond:</span> -<span class="i0">The ring, the vow, the witness, licence, prayers, <span class="linenum">140</span></span> -<span class="i0">All parties known! made public all affairs!</span> -<span class="i0">Such forms men suffer, and from these they date</span> -<span class="i0">A deed of love begun with all they hate.</span> -<span class="i0">Absurd, that none the beaten road should shun,</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span> -<span class="i0">But love to do what other dupes have done!</span> -<span class="i2">“Well, now your priest has made you one of twain,</span> -<span class="i0">Look you for rest? Alas! you look in vain.</span> -<span class="i0">If sick, he comes; you cannot die in peace,</span> -<span class="i0">Till he attends to witness your release;</span> -<span class="i0">To vex your soul, and urge you to confess <span class="linenum">150</span></span> -<span class="i0">The sins you feel, remember, or can guess;</span> -<span class="i0">Nay, when departed, to your grave he goes,</span> -<span class="i0">But there indeed he hurts not your repose.</span> -<span class="i2">“Such are our burthens; part we must sustain,</span> -<span class="i0">But need not link new grievance to the chain.</span> -<span class="i0">Yet men like idiots will their frames surround</span> -<span class="i0">With these vile shackles, nor confess they’re bound;</span> -<span class="i0">In all that most confines them they confide,</span> -<span class="i0">Their slavery boast, and make their bonds their pride;</span> -<span class="i0">E’en as the pressure galls them, they declare, <span class="linenum">160</span></span> -<span class="i0">(Good souls!) how happy and how free they are!</span> -<span class="i0">As madmen, pointing round their wretched cells,</span> -<span class="i0">Cry, ‘Lo! the palace where our honour dwells.’</span> -<span class="i2">“Such is our state: but I resolve to live</span> -<span class="i0">By rules my reason and my feelings give;</span> -<span class="i0">No legal guards shall keep enthrall’d my mind,</span> -<span class="i0">No slaves command me, and no teachers blind.</span> -<span class="i2">“Tempted by sins, let me their strength defy,</span> -<span class="i0">But have no second in a surplice by</span> -<span class="i0">No bottle-holder, with officious aid, <span class="linenum">170</span></span> -<span class="i0">To comfort conscience, weaken’d and afraid:</span> -<span class="i0">Then if I yield, my frailty is not known;</span> -<span class="i0">And, if I stand, the glory is my own.</span> -<span class="i2">“When Truth and Reason are our friends, we seem</span> -<span class="i0">Alive! awake!—the superstitious dream.</span> -<span class="i2">“Oh! then, fair Truth, for thee alone I seek,</span> -<span class="i0">Friend to the wise, supporter of the weak;</span> -<span class="i0">From thee we learn whate’er is right and just;</span> -<span class="i0">Forms to despise, professions to distrust;</span> -<span class="i0">Creeds to reject, pretensions to deride, <span class="linenum">180</span></span> -<span class="i0">And, following thee, to follow none beside.”</span> -<span class="i2">Such was the speech; it struck upon the ear</span> -<span class="i0">Like sudden thunder, none expect to hear.</span> -<span class="i0">He saw men’s wonder with a manly pride,</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span> -<span class="i0">And gravely smiled at guest electrified;</span> -<span class="i0">“A farmer this!” they said, “Oh! let him seek</span> -<span class="i0">That place where he may for his country speak;</span> -<span class="i0">On some great question to harangue for hours,</span> -<span class="i0">While speakers hearing, envy nobler powers!”</span> -<span class="i2">Wisdom like this, as all things rich and rare, <span class="linenum">190</span></span> -<span class="i0">Must be acquired with pains, and kept with care;</span> -<span class="i0">In books he sought it, which his friends might view,</span> -<span class="i0">When their kind host the guarding curtain drew.</span> -<span class="i0">There were historic works for graver hours,</span> -<span class="i0">And lighter verse, to spur the languid powers;</span> -<span class="i0">There metaphysics, logic there had place;</span> -<span class="i0">But of devotion not a single trace—</span> -<span class="i0">Save what is taught in Gibbon’s florid page,</span> -<span class="i0">And other guides of this inquiring age;</span> -<span class="i0">There Hume appear’d, and, near, a splendid book <span class="linenum">200</span></span> -<span class="i0">Composed by Gay’s good Lord of Bolingbroke:</span> -<span class="i0">With these were mix’d the light, the free, the vain,</span> -<span class="i0">And from a corner peep’d the sage Tom Paine:</span> -<span class="i0">Here four neat volumes ‘Chesterfield’ were named,</span> -<span class="i0">For manners much and easy morals famed;</span> -<span class="i0">With chaste Memoirs of Females, to be read</span> -<span class="i0">When deeper studies had confused the head.</span> -<span class="i2">Such his resources, treasures where he sought</span> -<span class="i0">For daily knowledge till his mind was fraught:</span> -<span class="i0">Then, when his friends were present, for their use <span class="linenum">210</span></span> -<span class="i0">He would the riches he had stored produce;</span> -<span class="i0">He found his lamp burn clearer, when each day</span> -<span class="i0">He drew for all he purposed to display.</span> -<span class="i0">For these occasions, forth his knowledge sprung,</span> -<span class="i0">As mustard quickens on a bed of dung;</span> -<span class="i0">All was prepared, and guests allow’d the praise,</span> -<span class="i0">For what they saw he could so quickly raise.</span> -<span class="i2">Such this new friend; and, when the year came round,</span> -<span class="i0">The same impressive, reasoning sage was found:</span> -<span class="i0">Then, too, was seen the pleasant mansion graced <span class="linenum">220</span></span> -<span class="i0">With a fair damsel—his no vulgar taste:</span> -<span class="i0">The neat Rebecca—sly, observant, still;</span> -<span class="i0">Watching his eye, and waiting on his will;</span> -<span class="i0">Simple yet smart her dress, her manners meek,</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span> -<span class="i0">Her smiles spoke for her, she would seldom speak;</span> -<span class="i0">But watch’d each look, each meaning to detect,</span> -<span class="i0">And (pleas’d with notice) felt for all neglect.</span> -<span class="i2">With her lived Gwyn a sweet harmonious life,</span> -<span class="i0">Who, forms excepted, was a charming wife.</span> -<span class="i0">The wives indeed, so made by vulgar law, <span class="linenum">230</span></span> -<span class="i0">Affected scorn, and censured what they saw;</span> -<span class="i0">And what they saw not, fancied; said ’twas sin,</span> -<span class="i0">And took no notice of the wife of Gwyn.</span> -<span class="i0">But he despised their rudeness, and would prove</span> -<span class="i0">Theirs was compulsion and distrust, not love;</span> -<span class="i0">“Fools as they were! could they conceive that rings</span> -<span class="i0">And parsons’ blessings were substantial things?”</span> -<span class="i0">They answer’d “Yes;” while he contemptuous spoke</span> -<span class="i0">Of the low notions held by simple folk;</span> -<span class="i0">Yet, strange that anger in a man so wise <span class="ws5">}</span><span class="linenum">240</span></span> -<span class="i0">Should from the notions of these fools arise; }</span> -<span class="i0">Can they so vex us, whom we so despise?<span class="ws4">}</span></span> -<span class="i2">Brave as he was, our hero felt a dread</span> -<span class="i0">Lest those who saw him kind should think him led;</span> -<span class="i0">If to his bosom fear a visit paid,</span> -<span class="i0">It was, lest he should be supposed afraid.</span> -<span class="i0">Hence sprang his orders; not that he desired</span> -<span class="i0">The things when done: obedience he required;</span> -<span class="i0">And thus, to prove his absolute command,</span> -<span class="i0">Ruled every heart, and moved each subject hand; <span class="linenum">250</span></span> -<span class="i0">Assent he ask’d for every word and whim,</span> -<span class="i0">To prove that <i>he alone was king of him</i>.</span> -<span class="i2">The still Rebecca, who her station knew,</span> -<span class="i0">With ease resign’d the honours not her due;</span> -<span class="i0">Well pleased, she saw that men her board would grace,</span> -<span class="i0">And wish’d not there to see a female face;</span> -<span class="i0">When by her lover she his spouse was styled,</span> -<span class="i0">Polite she thought it, and demurely smiled;</span> -<span class="i0">But when he wanted wives and maidens round</span> -<span class="i0">So to regard her, she grew grave, and frown’d; <span class="linenum">260</span></span> -<span class="i0">And sometimes whisper’d—“Why should you respect</span> -<span class="i0">These people’s notions, yet their forms reject?”</span> -<span class="i2">Gwyn, though from marriage bond and fetter free,</span> -<span class="i0">Still felt abridgment in his liberty;</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span> -<span class="i0">Something of hesitation he betray’d,</span> -<span class="i0">And in her presence thought of what he said.</span> -<span class="i0">Thus fair Rebecca, though she walk’d astray,</span> -<span class="i0">His creed rejecting, judged it right to pray;</span> -<span class="i0">To be at church, to sit with serious looks,</span> -<span class="i0">To read her Bible and her Sunday-books. <span class="linenum">270</span></span> -<span class="i0">She hated all those new and daring themes,</span> -<span class="i0">And call’d his free conjectures “devil’s dreams;”</span> -<span class="i0">She honour’d still the priesthood in her fall,</span> -<span class="i0">And claim’d respect and reverence for them all;</span> -<span class="i0">Call’d them “of sin’s destructive power the foes,</span> -<span class="i0">And not such blockheads as he might suppose.”</span> -<span class="i0">Gwyn to his friends would smile, and sometimes say,</span> -<span class="i0">“’Tis a kind fool, why vex her in her way?”</span> -<span class="i0">Her way she took, and still had more in view,</span> -<span class="i0">For she contrived that he should take it too. <span class="linenum">280</span></span> -<span class="i0">The daring freedom of his soul, ’twas plain,</span> -<span class="i0">In part was lost in a divided reign:</span> -<span class="i0">A king and queen, who yet in prudence sway’d</span> -<span class="i0">Their peaceful state, and were in turn obey’d.</span> -<span class="i2">Yet such our fate that, when we plan the best,</span> -<span class="i0">Something arises to disturb our rest:</span> -<span class="i0">For, though in spirits high, in body strong,</span> -<span class="i0">Gwyn something felt—he knew not what—was wrong;</span> -<span class="i0">He wish’d to know, for he believed the thing,</span> -<span class="i0">If unremoved, would other evil bring: <span class="linenum">290</span></span> -<span class="i0">She must perceive, of late he could not eat,</span> -<span class="i0">And when he walk’d, he trembled on his feet;</span> -<span class="i0">He had forebodings, and he seem’d as one</span> -<span class="i0">Stopp’d on the road, or threatened by a dun;</span> -<span class="i0">He could not live, and yet, should he apply</span> -<span class="i0">To those physicians—he must sooner die.”</span> -<span class="i2">The mild Rebecca heard with some disdain,</span> -<span class="i0">And some distress, her friend and lord complain:</span> -<span class="i0">His death she fear’d not, but had painful doubt</span> -<span class="i0">What his distemper’d nerves might bring about; <span class="linenum">300</span></span> -<span class="i0">With power like hers she dreaded an ally,</span> -<span class="i0">And yet there was a person in her eye;—</span> -<span class="i0">She thought, debated, fix’d—“Alas!” she said,</span> -<span class="i0">A case like yours must be no more delay’d.</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span> -<span class="i0">You hate these doctors; well! but were a friend</span> -<span class="i0">And doctor one, your fears would have an end.</span> -<span class="i0">My cousin Mollet—Scotland holds him now—</span> -<span class="i0">Is above all men skilful, all allow:</span> -<span class="i0">Of late a doctor, and within a while</span> -<span class="i0">He means to settle in this favour’d isle; <span class="linenum">310</span></span> -<span class="i0">Should he attend you, with his skill profound,</span> -<span class="i0">You must be safe, and shortly would be sound.”</span> -<span class="i2">When men in health against physicians rail,</span> -<span class="i0">They should consider that their nerves may fail;</span> -<span class="i0">Who calls a lawyer rogue, may find, too late,</span> -<span class="i0">On one of these depends his whole estate;</span> -<span class="i0">Nay, when the world can nothing more produce,</span> -<span class="i0">The priest, th’ insulted priest, may have his use.</span> -<span class="i0">Ease, health, and comfort, lift a man so high,</span> -<span class="i0">These powers are dwarfs that he can scarcely spy; <span class="linenum">320</span></span> -<span class="i0">Pain, sickness, languor, keep a man so low,</span> -<span class="i0">That these neglected dwarfs to giants grow.</span> -<span class="i0">Happy is he who through the medium sees</span> -<span class="i0">Of clear good sense—but Gwyn was not of these.</span> -<span class="i2">He heard and he rejoiced: “Ah! let him come,</span> -<span class="i0">And, till he fixes, make my house his home.”</span> -<span class="i0">Home came the doctor—he was much admired;</span> -<span class="i0">He told the patient what his case required;</span> -<span class="i0">His hours for sleep, his time to eat and drink;</span> -<span class="i0">When he should ride, read, rest, compose, or think. <span class="linenum">330</span></span> -<span class="i0">Thus join’d peculiar skill and art profound,</span> -<span class="i0">To make the fancy-sick no more than fancy-sound.</span> -<span class="i2">With such attention, who could long be ill?</span> -<span class="i0">Returning health proclaim’d the doctor’s skill.</span> -<span class="i0">Presents and praises from a grateful heart</span> -<span class="i0">Were freely offer’d on the patient’s part;</span> -<span class="i0">In high repute the doctor seem’d to stand,</span> -<span class="i0">But still had got no footing in the land;</span> -<span class="i0">And, as he saw the seat was rich and fair,</span> -<span class="i0">He felt disposed to fix his station there. <span class="linenum">340</span></span> -<span class="i0">To gain his purpose, he perform’d the part</span> -<span class="i0">Of a good actor, and prepared to start—</span> -<span class="i0">Not like a traveller in a day serene,</span> -<span class="i0">When the sun shone and when the roads were clean;</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span> -<span class="i0">Not like the pilgrim, when the morning gray,</span> -<span class="i0">The ruddy eve succeeding, sends his way;</span> -<span class="i0">But in a season when the sharp east wind</span> -<span class="i0">Had all its influence on a nervous mind.</span> -<span class="i0">When past the parlour’s front it fiercely blew,<span class="ws1">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">And Gwyn sat pitying every bird that flew, <span class="ws3">}</span><span class="linenum">350</span></span> -<span class="i0">This strange physician said—“Adieu! adieu! }</span> -<span class="i0">Farewell!—Heaven bless you!—if you should—but no,</span> -<span class="i0">You need not fear—farewell! ’tis time to go.”</span> -<span class="i2">The doctor spoke; and as the patient heard,</span> -<span class="i0">His old disorders (dreadful train!) appear’d;</span> -<span class="i0">He felt the tingling tremor, and the stress</span> -<span class="i0">Upon his nerves that he could not express;</span> -<span class="i0">Should his good friend forsake him, he perhaps</span> -<span class="i0">Might meet his death, and surely a relapse.”</span> -<span class="i2">So, as the doctor seem’d intent to part, <span class="linenum">360</span></span> -<span class="i0">He cried in terror—“Oh! be where thou art:</span> -<span class="i0">Come, thou art young, and unengaged; oh! come,</span> -<span class="i0">Make me thy friend, give comfort to mine home;</span> -<span class="i0">I have now symptoms that require thine aid,</span> -<span class="i0">Do, doctor, stay”—th’ obliging doctor stay’d.</span> -<span class="i2">Thus Gwyn was happy; he had now a friend,</span> -<span class="i0">And a meek spouse on whom he could depend.</span> -<span class="i0">But now, possess’d of male and female guide,</span> -<span class="i0">Divided power he thus must subdivide:</span> -<span class="i0">In earlier days he rode, or sat at ease <span class="linenum">370</span></span> -<span class="i0">Reclined, and having but himself to please;</span> -<span class="i0">Now, if he would a fav’rite nag bestride,</span> -<span class="i0">He sought permission—“Doctor, may I ride?”—</span> -<span class="i0">(Rebecca’s eye her sovereign pleasure told,)—</span> -<span class="i0">“I think you may; but, guarded from the cold,</span> -<span class="i0">Ride forty minutes.”—Free and happy soul!</span> -<span class="i0">He scorn’d submission, and a man’s control;</span> -<span class="i0">But where such friends in every care unite</span> -<span class="i0">All for his good, obedience is delight.</span> -<span class="i2">Now Gwyn, a sultan, bade affairs adieu, <span class="linenum">380</span></span> -<span class="i0">Led and assisted by the faithful two;</span> -<span class="i0">The favourite fair, Rebecca, near him sat,</span> -<span class="i0">And whisper’d whom to love, assist, or hate;</span> -<span class="i0">While the chief vizier eased his lord of cares,</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span> -<span class="i0">And bore himself the burden of affairs.</span> -<span class="i0">No dangers could from such alliance flow,</span> -<span class="i0">But from that law that changes all below.</span> -<span class="i2">When wint’ry winds with leaves bestrew’d the ground,</span> -<span class="i0">And men were coughing all the village round;</span> -<span class="i0">When public papers of invasion told, <span class="linenum">390</span></span> -<span class="i0">Diseases, famines, perils new and old;</span> -<span class="i0">When philosophic writers fail’d to clear</span> -<span class="i0">The mind of gloom, and lighter works to cheer;</span> -<span class="i0">Then came fresh terrors on our hero’s mind—</span> -<span class="i0">Fears unforeseen, and feelings undefined.</span> -<span class="i2">“In outward ills,” he cried, “I rest assured</span> -<span class="i0">Of my friend’s aid; they will in time be cured:</span> -<span class="i0">But can his art subdue, resist, control</span> -<span class="i0">These inward griefs and troubles of the soul?</span> -<span class="i0">Oh! my Rebecca! my disorder’d mind <span class="linenum">400</span></span> -<span class="i0">No help in study, none in thought can find;</span> -<span class="i0">What must I do, Rebecca?” She proposed</span> -<span class="i0">The parish-guide; but what could be disclosed</span> -<span class="i0">To a proud priest?—“No! him have I defied,</span> -<span class="i0">Insulted, slighted—shall he be my guide?</span> -<span class="i0">But one there is, and if report be just,</span> -<span class="i0">A wise good man, whom I may safely trust;</span> -<span class="i0">Who goes from house to house, from ear to ear,<span class="ws4">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">To make his truths, his Gospel truths, appear;<span class="ws6">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">True if indeed they be, ’tis time that I should hear. }<span class="linenum">410</span></span> -<span class="i0">Send for that man; and if report be just,</span> -<span class="i0">I, like Cornelius, will the teacher trust;</span> -<span class="i0">But, if deceiver, I the vile deceit</span> -<span class="i0">Shall soon discover, and discharge the cheat.”</span> -<span class="i2">To Doctor Mollet was the grief confess’d,</span> -<span class="i0">While Gwyn the freedom of his mind express’d;</span> -<span class="i0">Yet own’d it was to ills and errors prone,</span> -<span class="i0">And he for guilt and frailty must atone.</span> -<span class="i0">“My books, perhaps,” the wav’ring mortal cried,</span> -<span class="i0">“Like men deceive—I would be satisfied; <span class="linenum">420</span></span> -<span class="i0">And to my soul the pious man may bring</span> -<span class="i0">Comfort and light—do let me try the thing.”</span> -<span class="i2">The cousins met; what pass’d with Gwyn was told;</span> -<span class="i0">“Alas!” the doctor said; “how hard to hold</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span> -<span class="i0">These easy minds, where all impressions made</span> -<span class="i0">At first sink deeply, and then quickly fade;</span> -<span class="i0">For while so strong these new-born fancies reign,</span> -<span class="i0">We must divert them, to oppose is vain.</span> -<span class="i0">You see him valiant now, he scorns to heed</span> -<span class="i0">The bigot’s threat’nings or the zealot’s creed; <span class="linenum">430</span></span> -<span class="i0">Shook by a dream, he next for truth receives</span> -<span class="i0">What frenzy teaches, and what fear believes;</span> -<span class="i0">And this will place him in the power of one</span> -<span class="i0">Whom we must seek, because we cannot shun.”</span> -<span class="i2">Wisp had been ostler at a busy inn,</span> -<span class="i0">Where he beheld and grew in dread of sin;</span> -<span class="i0">Then to a Baptists’ meeting found his way,</span> -<span class="i0">Became a convert, and was taught to pray;</span> -<span class="i0">Then preach’d; and, being earnest and sincere,</span> -<span class="i0">Brought other sinners to religious fear. <span class="linenum">440</span></span> -<span class="i0">Together grew his influence and his fame,</span> -<span class="i0">Till our dejected hero heard his name;</span> -<span class="i0">His little failings were a grain of pride,</span> -<span class="i0">Raised by the numbers he presumed to guide:</span> -<span class="i0">A love of presents, and of lofty praise</span> -<span class="i0">For his meek spirit and his humble ways;</span> -<span class="i0">But though this spirit would on flattery feed,</span> -<span class="i0">No praise could blind him and no arts mislead.</span> -<span class="i0">To him the doctor made the wishes known</span> -<span class="i0">Of his good patron, but concealed his own; <span class="linenum">450</span></span> -<span class="i0">He of all teachers had distrust and doubt,</span> -<span class="i0">And was reserved in what he came about;</span> -<span class="i0">Though on a plain and simple message sent,</span> -<span class="i0">He had a secret and a bold intent.</span> -<span class="i0">Their minds at first were deeply veil’d; disguise</span> -<span class="i0">Form’d the slow speech, and op’d the eager eyes;</span> -<span class="i0">Till by degrees sufficient light was thrown</span> -<span class="i0">On every view, and all the business shown.</span> -<span class="i0">Wisp, as a skilful guide who led the blind, <span class="ws10">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Had powers to rule and awe the vapourish mind, <span class="ws5">}</span><span class="linenum">460</span></span> -<span class="i0">But not the changeful will, the wavering fear to bind; }</span> -<span class="i0">And, should his conscience give him leave to dwell</span> -<span class="i0">With Gwyn, and every rival power expel,</span> -<span class="i0">(A dubious point,) yet he, with every care,</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span> -<span class="i0">Might soon the lot of the rejected share,</span> -<span class="i0">And other Wisps be found like him to reign,</span> -<span class="i0">And then be thrown upon the world again.</span> -<span class="i0">He thought it prudent, then, and felt it just,</span> -<span class="i0">The present guides of his new friend to trust;</span> -<span class="i0">True, he conceived, to touch the harder heart <span class="linenum">470</span></span> -<span class="i0">Of the cool doctor, was beyond his art;</span> -<span class="i0">But mild Rebecca he could surely sway,</span> -<span class="i0">While Gwyn would follow where she led the way:</span> -<span class="i0">So, to do good, (and why a duty shun,</span> -<span class="i0">Because rewarded for the good when done?)</span> -<span class="i0">He with his friends would join in all they plann’d,</span> -<span class="i0">Save when his faith or feelings should withstand;</span> -<span class="i0">There he must rest, sole judge of his affairs,</span> -<span class="i0">While they might rule exclusively in theirs.</span> -<span class="i2">When Gwyn his message to the teacher sent, <span class="linenum">480</span></span> -<span class="i0">He fear’d his friends would show their discontent;</span> -<span class="i0">And prudent seem’d it to th’ attendant pair,</span> -<span class="i0">Not all at once to show an aspect fair.</span> -<span class="i0">On Wisp they seem’d to look with jealous eye,</span> -<span class="i0">And fair Rebecca was demure and shy;</span> -<span class="i0">But by degrees the teacher’s worth they knew,</span> -<span class="i0">And were so kind, they seem’d converted too.</span> -<span class="i2">Wisp took occasion to the nymph to say,</span> -<span class="i0">“You must be married: will you name the day?”</span> -<span class="i0">She smiled,—“’Tis well; but, should he not comply, <span class="linenum">490</span></span> -<span class="i0">Is it quite safe th’ experiment to try?”—</span> -<span class="i0">“My child,” the teacher said, “who feels remorse,</span> -<span class="i0">(And feels not he?) must wish relief of course;</span> -<span class="i0">And can he find it, while he fears the crime?—</span> -<span class="i0">You must be married; will you name the time?”</span> -<span class="i2">Glad was the patron as a man could be,<span class="ws16">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Yet marvell’d too, to find his guides agree;<span class="ws15">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">“But what the cause?” he cried; “’tis genuine love for me.” }</span> -<span class="i2">Each found his part, and let one act describe</span> -<span class="i0">The powers and honours of th’ accordant tribe:— <span class="linenum">500</span></span> -<span class="i0">A man for favour to the mansion speeds,</span> -<span class="i0">And cons his threefold task as he proceeds;</span> -<span class="i0">To teacher Wisp he bows with humble air,</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span> -<span class="i0">And begs his interest for a barn’s repair;</span> -<span class="i0">Then for the doctor he inquires, who loves</span> -<span class="i0">To hear applause for what his skill improves,</span> -<span class="i0">And gives, for praise, assent,—and to the fair</span> -<span class="i0">He brings of pullets a delicious pair;</span> -<span class="i0">Thus sees a peasant, with discernment nice,</span> -<span class="i0">A love of power, conceit, and avarice. <span class="linenum">510</span></span> -<span class="i2">Lo! now the change complete: the convert Gwyn</span> -<span class="i0">Has sold his books, and has renounced his sin;</span> -<span class="i0">Mollet his body orders, Wisp his soul,</span> -<span class="i0">And o’er his purse the lady takes control;</span> -<span class="i0">No friends beside he needs, and none attend—</span> -<span class="i0">Soul, body, and estate, has each a friend;</span> -<span class="i0">And fair Rebecca leads a virtuous life—</span> -<span class="i0">She rules a mistress, and she reigns a wife.</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span> -</div></div> - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> -<h3>TALE IV.</h3> -<p class="f110"><i>PROCRASTINATION.</i></p> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poem2"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i15">Heaven witness<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I have been to you [a true and humble wife.]<br /></span> -<span class="i25"><i>Henry VIII</i>. Act II. Scene 4.<br /><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i15">Gentle lady,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When first I did impart my love to you,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I freely told you all the wealth I had.<br /></span> -<span class="i17"><i>Merchant of Venice</i>, Act III. Scene 2.<br /><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i15">[The leisure and the fearful time]<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Cuts off [the ceremonious] vows of love,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And ample interchange of sweet discourse,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Which so long sunder’d friends should dwell upon.<br /></span> -<span class="i24"><i>Richard III</i>. Act V. Scene 3.<br /><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I know thee not, old man; fall to thy prayers.<br /></span> -<span class="i24">2 <i>Henry IV</i>. Act V. Scene 5.<br /><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i15">Farewell,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Thou pure impiety [and] impious purity;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For thee I’ll lock up all the gates of love.<br /></span> -<span class="i12"><i>Much Ado about Nothing</i>, Act IV. Scene 1.</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="f120 break space-above2"><b>TALE IV.</b></p> -<p class="f110"><i>PROCRASTINATION.</i></p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Love will expire; the gay, the happy dream</span> -<span class="i0">Will turn to scorn, indiff’rence, or esteem.</span> -<span class="i0">Some favour’d pairs, in this exchange, are bless’d,</span> -<span class="i0">Nor sigh for raptures in a state of rest;</span> -<span class="i0">Others, ill match’d, with minds unpair’d, repent</span> -<span class="i0">At once the deed, and know no more content;</span> -<span class="i0">From joy to anguish they, in haste, decline,</span> -<span class="i0">And with their fondness, their esteem resign.</span> -<span class="i0">More luckless still their fate, who are the prey</span> -<span class="i0">Of long-protracted hope and dull delay; <span class="linenum">10</span></span> -<span class="i0">’Mid plans of bliss the heavy hours pass on,</span> -<span class="i0">Till love is wither’d, and till joy is gone.</span> -<span class="i2">This gentle flame two youthful hearts possess’d,</span> -<span class="i0">The sweet disturber of unenvied rest:</span> -<span class="i0">The prudent Dinah was the maid beloved,</span> -<span class="i0">And the kind Rupert was the swain approved.</span> -<span class="i0">A wealthy aunt her gentle niece sustain’d,</span> -<span class="i0">He, with a father, at his desk remain’d;</span> -<span class="i0">The youthful couple, to their vows sincere,<span class="ws12">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Thus loved expectant; year succeeding year,<span class="ws11">}</span><span class="linenum">20</span></span> -<span class="i0">With pleasant views and hopes, but not a prospect near. }</span> -<span class="i0">Rupert some comfort in his station saw,</span> -<span class="i0">But the poor virgin lived in dread and awe;</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span> -<span class="i0">Upon her anxious looks the widow smiled,</span> -<span class="i0">And bade her wait, “for she was yet a child.”</span> -<span class="i0">She for her neighbour had a due respect,</span> -<span class="i0">Nor would his son encourage or reject;</span> -<span class="i0">And thus the pair, with expectations vain,</span> -<span class="i0">Beheld the seasons change and change again.</span> -<span class="i0">Meantime the nymph her tender tales perused, <span class="linenum">30</span></span> -<span class="i0">Where cruel aunts impatient girls refused;</span> -<span class="i0">While hers, though teasing, boasted to be kind,</span> -<span class="i0">And she, resenting, to be all resign’d.</span> -<span class="i2">The dame was sick, and, when the youth applied</span> -<span class="i0">For her consent, she groan’d, and cough’d, and cried;</span> -<span class="i0">Talk’d of departing, and again her breath</span> -<span class="i0">Drew hard, and cough’d, and talk’d again of death:</span> -<span class="i0">“Here you may live, my Dinah! here the boy</span> -<span class="i0">And you together my estate enjoy.”</span> -<span class="i0">Thus to the lovers was her mind express’d, <span class="linenum">40</span></span> -<span class="i0">Till they forbore to urge the fond request.</span> -<span class="i2">Servant, and nurse, and comforter, and friend,</span> -<span class="i0">Dinah had still some duty to attend;</span> -<span class="i0">But yet their walk, when Rupert’s evening call</span> -<span class="i0">Obtain’d an hour, made sweet amends for all;</span> -<span class="i0">So long they now each other’s thoughts had known,</span> -<span class="i0">That nothing seem’d exclusively their own;</span> -<span class="i0">But with the common wish, the mutual fear,</span> -<span class="i0">They now had travell’d to their thirtieth year.</span> -<span class="i2">At length a prospect open’d—but, alas!</span> -<span class="i0">Long time must yet before the union pass; <span class="linenum">50</span></span> -<span class="i0">Rupert was call’d in other clime, t’increase</span> -<span class="i0">Another’s wealth, and toil for future peace;</span> -<span class="i0">Loth were the lovers; but the aunt declared</span> -<span class="i0">’Twas fortune’s call, and they must be prepared:</span> -<span class="i0">“You now are young, and for this brief delay,</span> -<span class="i0">And Dinah’s care, what I bequeath will pay;</span> -<span class="i0">All will be yours; nay, love, suppress that sigh;</span> -<span class="i0">The kind must suffer, and the best must die.”</span> -<span class="i0">Then came the cough, and strong the signs it gave</span> -<span class="i0">Of holding long contention with the grave. <span class="linenum">60</span></span> -<span class="i2">The lovers parted with a gloomy view,</span> -<span class="i0">And little comfort but that both were true;</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span> -<span class="i0">He for uncertain duties doom’d to steer,</span> -<span class="i0">While hers remained too certain and severe.</span> -<span class="i2">Letters arrived, and Rupert fairly told</span> -<span class="i0">“His cares were many, and his hopes were cold;</span> -<span class="i0">The view more clouded, that was never fair,</span> -<span class="i0">And love alone preserved him from despair.”</span> -<span class="i0">In other letters brighter hopes he drew, <span class="linenum">70</span></span> -<span class="i0">“His friends were kind, and he believed them true.”</span> -<span class="i2">When the sage widow Dinah’s grief descried,</span> -<span class="i0">She wonder’d much why one so happy sigh’d;</span> -<span class="i0">Then bade her see how her poor aunt sustain’d</span> -<span class="i0">The ills of life, nor murmur’d nor complain’d.</span> -<span class="i0">To vary pleasures, from the lady’s chest</span> -<span class="i0">Were drawn the pearly string and tabby vest;</span> -<span class="i0">Beads, jewels, laces, all their value shown,</span> -<span class="i0">With the kind notice—“They will be your own.”</span> -<span class="i2">This hope, these comforts cherish’d day by day, <span class="linenum">80</span></span> -<span class="i0">To Dinah’s bosom made a gradual way;</span> -<span class="i0">Till love of treasure had as large a part</span> -<span class="i0">As love of Rupert in the virgin’s heart.</span> -<span class="i0">Whether it be that tender passions fail</span> -<span class="i0">From their own nature, while the strong prevail;</span> -<span class="i0">Or whether av’rice, like the poison-tree<a name="FNanchor_3_3" id="FNanchor_3_3"></a><a href="#Footnote_3_3" class="fnanchor">[3]</a>,</span> -<span class="i0">Kills all beside it, and alone will be:</span> -<span class="i0">Whatever cause prevail’d, the pleasure grew</span> -<span class="i0">In Dinah’s soul—she loved the hoards to view;</span> -<span class="i0">With lively joy those comforts she survey’d, <span class="linenum">90</span></span> -<span class="i0">And love grew languid in the careful maid.</span> -<span class="i2">Now the grave niece partook the widow’s cares;</span> -<span class="i0">Look’d to the great and ruled the small affairs;</span> -<span class="i0">Saw clean’d the plate, arranged the china show,</span> -<span class="i0">And felt her passion for a shilling grow.</span> -<span class="i0">Th’ indulgent aunt increased the maid’s delight,</span> -<span class="i0">By placing tokens of her wealth in sight;</span> -<span class="i0">She loved the value of her bonds to tell,</span> -<span class="i0">And spake of stocks, and how they rose and fell.</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span> -<span class="i2">This passion grew, and gain’d at length such sway, <span class="linenum">100</span></span> -<span class="i0">That other passions shrank to make it way;</span> -<span class="i0">Romantic notions now the heart forsook,</span> -<span class="i0">She read but seldom, and she changed her book;</span> -<span class="i0">And for the verses she was wont to send,</span> -<span class="i0">Short was her prose, and she was Rupert’s friend.</span> -<span class="i0">Seldom she wrote, and then the widow’s cough,</span> -<span class="i0">And constant call, excused her breaking off;</span> -<span class="i0">Who now, oppress’d, no longer took the air,</span> -<span class="i0">But sate and dozed upon an easy chair.</span> -<span class="i0">The cautious doctor saw the case was clear, <span class="linenum">110</span></span> -<span class="i0">But judged it best to have companions near;</span> -<span class="i0">They came, they reason’d, they prescribed—at last,</span> -<span class="i0">Like honest men, they said their hopes were past;</span> -<span class="i0">Then came a priest—’tis comfort to reflect,</span> -<span class="i0">When all is over, there was no neglect;</span> -<span class="i0">And all was over—by her husband’s bones,</span> -<span class="i0">The widow rests beneath the sculptured stones,</span> -<span class="i0">That yet record their fondness and their fame,</span> -<span class="i0">While all they left the virgin’s care became:</span> -<span class="i0">Stock, bonds, and buildings;—it disturb’d her rest, <span class="linenum">120</span></span> -<span class="i0">To think what load of troubles she possess’d.</span> -<span class="i0">Yet, if a trouble, she resolved to take</span> -<span class="i0">Th’ important duty, for the donor’s sake;</span> -<span class="i0">She too was heiress to the widow’s taste,</span> -<span class="i0">Her love of hoarding, and her dread of waste.</span> -<span class="i2">Sometimes the past would on her mind intrude,</span> -<span class="i0">And then a conflict full of care ensued;</span> -<span class="i0">The thoughts of Rupert on her mind would press,</span> -<span class="i0">His worth she knew, but doubted his success;</span> -<span class="i0">Of old she saw him heedless; what the boy <span class="linenum">130</span></span> -<span class="i0">Forbore to save, the man would not enjoy;</span> -<span class="i0">Oft had he lost the chance that care would seize,</span> -<span class="i0">Willing to live, but more to live at ease;</span> -<span class="i0">Yet could she not a broken vow defend,</span> -<span class="i0">And Heav’n, perhaps, might yet enrich her friend.</span> -<span class="i2">Month after month was pass’d, and all were spent</span> -<span class="i0">In quiet comfort and in rich content:</span> -<span class="i0">Miseries there were, and woes the world around,</span> -<span class="i0">But these had not her pleasant dwelling found;</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span> -<span class="i0">She knew that mothers grieved, and widows wept, <span class="linenum">140</span></span> -<span class="i0">And she was sorry, said her prayers, and slept.</span> -<span class="i0">Thus pass’d the seasons, and to Dinah’s board</span> -<span class="i0">Gave what the seasons to the rich afford;</span> -<span class="i0">For she indulged, nor was her heart so small,</span> -<span class="i0">That one strong passion should engross it all.</span> -<span class="i2">A love of splendour now with av’rice strove,</span> -<span class="i0">And oft appear’d to be the stronger love;</span> -<span class="i0">A secret pleasure fill’d the widow’s breast,</span> -<span class="i0">When she reflected on the hoards possess’d;</span> -<span class="i0">But livelier joy inspired th’ ambitious maid, <span class="linenum">150</span></span> -<span class="i0">When she the purchase of those hoards display’d.</span> -<span class="i0">In small but splendid room she loved to see</span> -<span class="i0">That all was placed in view and harmony;</span> -<span class="i0">There, as with eager glance she look’d around,</span> -<span class="i0">She much delight in every object found;</span> -<span class="i0">While books devout were near her—to destroy,</span> -<span class="i0">Should it arise, an overflow of joy.</span> -<span class="i2">Within that fair apartment, guests might see</span> -<span class="i0">The comforts cull’d for wealth by vanity.</span> -<span class="i0">Around the room an Indian paper blazed, <span class="linenum">160</span></span> -<span class="i0">With lively tint and figures boldly raised;</span> -<span class="i0">Silky and soft upon the floor below,</span> -<span class="i0">Th’ elastic carpet rose with crimson glow;</span> -<span class="i0">All things around implied both cost and care;</span> -<span class="i0">What met the eye was elegant or rare.</span> -<span class="i0">Some curious trifles round the room were laid,</span> -<span class="i0">By hope presented to the wealthy maid:</span> -<span class="i0">Within a costly case of varnish’d wood,</span> -<span class="i0">In level rows, her polish’d volumes stood;</span> -<span class="i0">Shown as a favour to a chosen few, <span class="linenum">170</span></span> -<span class="i0">To prove what beauty for a book could do;</span> -<span class="i0">A silver urn with curious work was fraught;</span> -<span class="i0">A silver lamp from Grecian pattern wrought;</span> -<span class="i0">Above her head, all gorgeous to behold,</span> -<span class="i0">A time-piece stood on feet of burnish’d gold;</span> -<span class="i0">A stag’s-head crest adorn’d the pictured case,</span> -<span class="i0">Through the pure crystal shone th’ enamell’d face;</span> -<span class="i0">And, while on brilliants moved the hands of steel,</span> -<span class="i0">It click’d from pray’r to pray’r, from meal to meal.</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span> -<span class="i2">Here as the lady sate, a friendly pair <span class="linenum">180</span></span> -<span class="i0">Stept in t’ admire the view, and took their chair.</span> -<span class="i0">They then related how the young and gay</span> -<span class="i0">Were thoughtless wandering in the broad highway;</span> -<span class="i0">How tender damsels sail’d in tilted boats,</span> -<span class="i0">And laugh’d with wicked men in scarlet coats;</span> -<span class="i0">And how we live in such degen’rate times</span> -<span class="i0">That men conceal their wants, and show their crimes;</span> -<span class="i0">While vicious deeds are screen’d by fashion’s name,</span> -<span class="i0">And what was once our pride is now our shame.</span> -<span class="i2">Dinah was musing, as her friends discoursed, <span class="linenum">190</span></span> -<span class="i0">When these last words a sudden entrance forced</span> -<span class="i0">Upon her mind, and what was once her pride</span> -<span class="i0">And now her shame, some painful views supplied;</span> -<span class="i0">Thoughts of the past within her bosom press’d,</span> -<span class="i0">And there a change was felt, and was confess’d.</span> -<span class="i0">While thus the virgin strove with secret pain,</span> -<span class="i0">Her mind was wandering o’er the troubled main;</span> -<span class="i0">Still she was silent, nothing seem’d to see,</span> -<span class="i0">But sate and sigh’d in pensive reverie.</span> -<span class="i2">The friends prepared new subjects to begin, <span class="linenum">200</span></span> -<span class="i0">When tall Susannah, maiden starch, stalk’d in;</span> -<span class="i0">Not in her ancient mode, sedate and slow,</span> -<span class="i0">As when she came, the mind she knew to know;</span> -<span class="i0">Nor as, when list’ning half an hour before,</span> -<span class="i0">She twice or thrice tapp’d gently at the door;</span> -<span class="i0">But, all decorum cast in wrath aside,</span> -<span class="i0">“I think the devil’s in the man!” she cried;</span> -<span class="i0">“A huge tall sailor, with his tawny cheek,</span> -<span class="i0">And pitted face, will with my lady speak;</span> -<span class="i0">He grinn’d an ugly smile, and said he knew, <span class="linenum">210</span></span> -<span class="i0">Please you, my lady, ’twould be joy to you;</span> -<span class="i0">What must I answer?”—Trembling and distress’d</span> -<span class="i0">Sank the pale Dinah, by her fears oppress’d;</span> -<span class="i0">When thus alarm’d, and brooking no delay,</span> -<span class="i0">Swift to her room the stranger made his way.</span> -<span class="i2">“Revive, my love!” said he, “I’ve done thee harm,</span> -<span class="i0">Give me thy pardon,” and he look’d alarm;</span> -<span class="i0">Meantime the prudent Dinah had contrived</span> -<span class="i0">Her soul to question, and she then revived.</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span> -<span class="i2">“See! my good friend,” and then she raised her head, }<span class="linenum">220</span></span> -<span class="i0">“The bloom of life, the strength of youth is fled;<span class="ws8">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Living we die; to us the world is dead.<span class="ws16">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">We parted bless’d with health, and I am now</span> -<span class="i0">Age-struck and feeble, so I find art thou;</span> -<span class="i0">Thine eye is sunken, furrow’d is thy face,</span> -<span class="i0">And downward look’st thou—so we run our race;</span> -<span class="i0">And happier they, whose race is nearly run,</span> -<span class="i0">Their troubles over, and their duties done.”—</span> -<span class="i2">“True, lady, true, we are not girl and boy;</span> -<span class="i0">But time has left us something to enjoy.”— <span class="linenum">230</span></span> -<span class="i2">“What! thou hast learn’d my fortune?—yes, I live</span> -<span class="i0">To feel how poor the comforts wealth can give;</span> -<span class="i0">Thou too perhaps art wealthy; but our fate</span> -<span class="i0">Still mocks our wishes, wealth is come too late.”—</span> -<span class="i2">“To me nor late nor early; I am come</span> -<span class="i0">Poor as I left thee to my native home:</span> -<span class="i0">Nor yet,” said Rupert, “will I grieve; ’tis mine</span> -<span class="i0">To share thy comforts, and the glory thine;</span> -<span class="i0">For thou wilt gladly take that generous part</span> -<span class="i0">That both exalts and gratifies the heart; <span class="linenum">240</span></span> -<span class="i0">While mine rejoices.”—“Heavens!” return’d the maid,</span> -<span class="i0">“This talk to one so wither’d and decayed?</span> -<span class="i0">No! all my care is now to fit my mind</span> -<span class="i0">For other spousal, and to die resign’d.</span> -<span class="i0">As friend and neighbour, I shall hope to see</span> -<span class="i0">These noble views, this pious love in thee;</span> -<span class="i0">That we together may the change await,</span> -<span class="i0">Guides and spectators in each other’s fate;</span> -<span class="i0">When fellow-pilgrims, we shall daily crave</span> -<span class="i0">The mutual prayer that arms us for the grave.” <span class="linenum">250</span></span> -<span class="i2">Half angry, half in doubt, the lover gazed</span> -<span class="i0">On the meek maiden, by her speech amazed.</span> -<span class="i0">“Dinah,” said he, “dost thou respect thy vows?</span> -<span class="i0">What spousal mean’st thou?—thou art Rupert’s spouse;</span> -<span class="i0">The chance is mine to take, and thine to give;</span> -<span class="i0">But trifling this, if we together live.</span> -<span class="i0">Can I believe, that, after all the past,</span> -<span class="i0">Our vows, our loves, thou wilt be false at last?</span> -<span class="i0">Something thou hast—I know not what—in view;</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span> -<span class="i0">I find thee pious—let me find thee true.”— <span class="linenum">260</span></span> -<span class="i1">“Ah! cruel this; but do, my friend, depart;</span> -<span class="i0">And to its feelings leave my wounded heart.”—</span> -<span class="i1">“Nay, speak at once; and, Dinah, let me know,</span> -<span class="i0">Mean’st thou to take me, now I’m wreck’d, in tow?</span> -<span class="i0">Be fair; nor longer keep me in the dark;</span> -<span class="i0">Am I forsaken for a trimmer spark?</span> -<span class="i0">Heav’n’s spouse thou art not; nor can I believe</span> -<span class="i0">That God accepts her who will man deceive.</span> -<span class="i0">True, I am shatter’d; I have service seen,</span> -<span class="i0">And service done, and have in trouble been; <span class="linenum">270</span></span> -<span class="i0">My cheek (it shames me not) has lost its red,</span> -<span class="i0">And the brown buff is o’er my features spread;</span> -<span class="i0">Perchance my speech is rude; for I among</span> -<span class="i0">Th’ untamed have been, in temper and in tongue;</span> -<span class="i0">Have been trepann’d, have lived in toil and care,</span> -<span class="i0">And wrought for wealth I was not doom’d to share;</span> -<span class="i0">It touch’d me deeply, for I felt a pride</span> -<span class="i0">In gaining riches for my destined bride.</span> -<span class="i0">Speak, then, my fate; for these my sorrows past,</span> -<span class="i0">Time lost, youth fled, hope wearied, and at last <span class="linenum">280</span></span> -<span class="i0">This doubt of thee—a childish thing to tell,</span> -<span class="i0">But certain truth—my very throat they swell;</span> -<span class="i0">They stop the breath, and but for shame could I</span> -<span class="i0">Give way to weakness, and with passion cry;</span> -<span class="i0">These are unmanly struggles, but I feel</span> -<span class="i0">This hour must end them, and perhaps will heal.”—</span> -<span class="i2">Here Dinah sigh’d as if afraid to speak—</span> -<span class="i0">And then repeated—“They were frail and weak;</span> -<span class="i0">His soul she loved, and hoped he had the grace</span> -<span class="i0">To fix his thoughts upon a better place.” <span class="linenum">290</span></span> -<span class="i2">She ceased;—with steady glance, as if to see</span> -<span class="i0">The very root of this hypocrisy,</span> -<span class="i0">He her small fingers moulded in his hard</span> -<span class="i0">And bronzed broad hand; then told her, his regard,</span> -<span class="i0">His best respect were gone, but love had still</span> -<span class="i0">Hold in his heart, and govern’d yet the will—</span> -<span class="i0">Or he would curse her;—saying this, he threw <span class="ws4">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">The hand in scorn away, and bade adieu <span class="ws9">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">To every lingering hope, with every care in view. }</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span> -<span class="i2">Proud and indignant, suffering, sick, and poor, <span class="linenum">300</span></span> -<span class="i0">He grieved unseen, and spoke of love no more—</span> -<span class="i0">Till all he felt in indignation died,</span> -<span class="i0">As hers had sunk in avarice and pride.</span> -<span class="i2">In health declining, as in mind distress’d,</span> -<span class="i0">To some in power his troubles he confess’d,</span> -<span class="i0">And shares a parish-gift;—at prayers he sees</span> -<span class="i0">The pious Dinah dropp’d upon her knees;</span> -<span class="i0">Thence as she walks the street with stately air,</span> -<span class="i0">As chance directs, oft meet the parted pair.</span> -<span class="i0">When he, with thickset coat of badge-man’s blue, <span class="linenum">310</span></span> -<span class="i0">Moves near her shaded silk of changeful hue;</span> -<span class="i0">When his thin locks of grey approach her braid,</span> -<span class="i0">A costly purchase made in beauty’s aid;</span> -<span class="i0">When his frank air, and his unstudied pace,<span class="ws12">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Are seen with her soft manner, air, and grace.<span class="ws10">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">And his plain artless look with her sharp meaning face:  }</span> -<span class="i0">It might some wonder in a stranger move,</span> -<span class="i0">How these together could have talk’d of love.</span> -<span class="i2">Behold them now!—see, there a tradesman stands,</span> -<span class="i0">And humbly hearkens to some fresh commands; <span class="linenum">320</span></span> -<span class="i0">He moves to speak, she interrupts him—“Stay,”</span> -<span class="i0">Her air expresses—“Hark to what I say!”</span> -<span class="i0">Ten paces off, poor Rupert on a seat</span> -<span class="i0">Has taken refuge from the noon-day heat,</span> -<span class="i0">His eyes on her intent, as if to find</span> -<span class="i0">What were the movements of that subtle mind;</span> -<span class="i0">How still! how earnest is he!—it appears</span> -<span class="i0">His thoughts are wand’ring through his earlier years;</span> -<span class="i0">Through years of fruitless labour, to the day</span> -<span class="i0">When all his earthly prospects died away. <span class="linenum">330</span></span> -<span class="i0">“Had I,” he thinks, “been wealthier of the two, <span class="ws13">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Would she have found me so unkind, untrue? <span class="ws14">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Or knows not man, when poor, what man when rich will do? }</span> -<span class="i0">Yes, yes! I feel that I had faithful proved,</span> -<span class="i0">And should have soothed and raised her, bless’d and loved.”</span> -<span class="i2">But Dinah moves—she had observed before</span> -<span class="i0">The pensive Rupert at an humble door.</span> -<span class="i0">Some thoughts of pity raised by his distress,</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span> -<span class="i0">Some feeling touch of ancient tenderness;</span> -<span class="i0">Religion, duty, urged the maid to speak <span class="linenum">340</span></span> -<span class="i0">In terms of kindness to a man so weak;</span> -<span class="i0">But pride forbad, and to return would prove</span> -<span class="i0">She felt the shame of his neglected love;</span> -<span class="i0">Nor wrapp’d in silence could she pass, afraid</span> -<span class="i0">Each eye should see her, and each heart upbraid.</span> -<span class="i0">One way remain’d—the way the Levite took,</span> -<span class="i0">Who without mercy could on misery look,</span> -<span class="i0">(A way perceived by craft, approved by pride):</span> -<span class="i0">She cross’d, and pass’d him on the other side.</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span> -</div></div> - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> -<h3>TALE V.</h3> -<p class="f110"><i>THE PATRON.</i></p> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poem2"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i28">It were all one,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That I should love a bright [particular] star,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And think to wed it; [he] is so much above me:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In [his] bright radiance and collateral heat<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Must I be comforted, not in [his] sphere.<br /></span> -<span class="i12"><i>All’s Well that Ends Well</i>, Act I. Scene 1.<br /><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i14">Poor wretches, that depend<br /></span> -<span class="i0">On greatness’ favours, dream as I have done,—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Wake, and find nothing.<br /></span> -<span class="i23"><i>Cymbeline</i>, Act V. Scene 4.<br /><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i32">And since...<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Th’ affliction of my mind amends, with which<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I fear a madness held me.<br /></span> -<span class="i27">[<i>The</i>] <i>Tempest</i>, Act V.</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="f120 break space-above2"><b>TALE V.</b></p> -<p class="f110"><i>THE PATRON.</i></p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">A borough-bailiff, who to law was train’d,</span> -<span class="i0">A wife and sons in decent state maintain’d;</span> -<span class="i0">He had his way in life’s rough ocean steer’d,</span> -<span class="i0">And many a rock and coast of danger clear’d;</span> -<span class="i0">He saw where others fail’d, and care had he</span> -<span class="i0">Others in him should not such failings see;</span> -<span class="i0">His sons in various busy states were placed,</span> -<span class="i0">And all began the sweets of gain to taste,</span> -<span class="i0">Save John, the younger; who, of sprightly parts,</span> -<span class="i0">Felt not a love for money-making arts. <span class="linenum">10</span></span> -<span class="i0">In childhood feeble, he, for country air,</span> -<span class="i0">Had long resided with a rustic pair;</span> -<span class="i0">All round whose room were doleful ballads, songs,</span> -<span class="i0">Of lovers’ sufferings and of ladies’ wrongs;</span> -<span class="i0">Of peevish ghosts who came at dark midnight,</span> -<span class="i0">For breach of promise guilty men to fright;</span> -<span class="i0">Love, marriage, murder, were the themes, with these,</span> -<span class="i0">All that on idle, ardent spirits seize;</span> -<span class="i0">Robbers at land and pirates on the main,</span> -<span class="i0">Enchanters foil’d, spells broken, giants slain; <span class="linenum">20</span></span> -<span class="i0">Legends of love, with tales of halls and bowers, <span class="ws6">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Choice of rare songs, and garlands of choice flowers, }</span> -<span class="i0">And all the hungry mind without a choice devours.<span class="ws4">}</span></span> -<span class="i2">From village-children kept apart by pride,</span> -<span class="i0">With such enjoyments, and without a guide,</span> -<span class="i0">Inspired by feelings all such works infused,</span> -<span class="i0">John snatch’d a pen, and wrote as he perused:</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span> -<span class="i0">With the like fancy he could make his knight</span> -<span class="i0">Slay half an host and put the rest to flight;</span> -<span class="i0">With the like knowledge, he could make him ride <span class="linenum">30</span></span> -<span class="i0">From isle to isle at Parthenissa’s side;</span> -<span class="i0">And with a heart yet free, no busy brain<span class="ws10">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Form’d wilder notions of delight and pain,<span class="ws8">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">The raptures smiles create, the anguish of disdain. }</span> -<span class="i2">Such were the fruits of John’s poetic toil—</span> -<span class="i0">Weeds, but still proofs of vigour in the soil.</span> -<span class="i0">He nothing purposed but with vast delight,</span> -<span class="i0">Let Fancy loose, and wonder’d at her flight;</span> -<span class="i0">His notions of poetic worth were high,</span> -<span class="i0">And of his own still-hoarded poetry.— <span class="linenum">40</span></span> -<span class="i0">These to his father’s house he bore with pride,</span> -<span class="i0">A miser’s treasure, in his room to hide;</span> -<span class="i0">Till, spurr’d by glory, to a reading friend</span> -<span class="i0">He kindly show’d the sonnets he had penn’d.</span> -<span class="i0">With erring judgment, though with heart sincere,</span> -<span class="i0">That friend exclaim’d, “These beauties must appear.”</span> -<span class="i0">In Magazines they claim’d their share of fame,</span> -<span class="i0">Though undistinguish’d by their author’s name;</span> -<span class="i0">And with delight the young enthusiast found</span> -<span class="i0">The muse of ‘Marcus’ with applauses crown’d. <span class="linenum">50</span></span> -<span class="i0">This heard the father, and with some alarm;</span> -<span class="i0">“The boy,” said he, “will neither trade nor farm;</span> -<span class="i0">He for both law and physic is unfit;</span> -<span class="i0">Wit he may have, but cannot live on wit:</span> -<span class="i0">Let him his talents then to learning give,</span> -<span class="i0">Where verse is honour’d, and where poets live.”</span> -<span class="i2">John kept his terms at college unreproved,</span> -<span class="i0">Took his degree, and left the life he loved;</span> -<span class="i0">Not yet ordain’d, his leisure he employ’d</span> -<span class="i0">In the light labours he so much enjoy’d; <span class="linenum">60</span></span> -<span class="i0">His favourite notions and his daring views</span> -<span class="i0">Were cherish’d still, and he adored the Muse.</span> -<span class="i2">“A little time, and he should burst to light,</span> -<span class="i0">And admiration of the world excite;</span> -<span class="i0">And every friend, now cool and apt to blame</span> -<span class="i0">His fond pursuit, would wonder at his fame.”</span> -<span class="i0">When led by fancy, and from view retired,</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span> -<span class="i0">He call’d before him all his heart desired;</span> -<span class="i0">“Fame shall be mine, then wealth shall I possess,</span> -<span class="i0">And beauty next an ardent lover bless; <span class="linenum">70</span></span> -<span class="i0">For me the maid shall leave her nobler state,</span> -<span class="i0">Happy to raise and share her poet’s fate.”</span> -<span class="i0">He saw each day his father’s frugal board</span> -<span class="i0">With simple fare by cautious prudence stored;</span> -<span class="i0">Where each indulgence was foreweigh’d with care,</span> -<span class="i0">And the grand maxims were to save and spare.</span> -<span class="i0">Yet in his walks, his closet, and his bed,</span> -<span class="i0">All frugal cares and prudent counsels fled;</span> -<span class="i0">And bounteous Fancy for his glowing mind</span> -<span class="i0">Wrought various scenes, and all of glorious kind; <span class="linenum">80</span></span> -<span class="i0">Slaves of the <i>ring</i> and <i>lamp</i>! what need of you,</span> -<span class="i0">When Fancy’s self such magic deeds can do?</span> -<span class="i2">Though rapt in visions of no vulgar kind,</span> -<span class="i0">To common subjects stoop’d our poet’s mind;</span> -<span class="i0">And oft, when wearied with more ardent flight,</span> -<span class="i0">He felt a spur satiric song to write;</span> -<span class="i0">A rival burgess his bold muse attack’d,</span> -<span class="i0">And whipp’d severely for a well-known fact;</span> -<span class="i0">For, while he seem’d to all demure and shy,</span> -<span class="i0">Our poet gazed at what was passing by; <span class="linenum">90</span></span> -<span class="i0">And ev’n his father smiled when playful wit,</span> -<span class="i0">From his young bard, some haughty object hit.</span> -<span class="i2">From ancient times the borough where they dwelt</span> -<span class="i0">Had mighty contest at elections felt.</span> -<span class="i0">Sir Godfrey Ball, ’tis true, had held in pay</span> -<span class="i0">Electors many for the trying day;</span> -<span class="i0">But in such golden chains to bind them all</span> -<span class="i0">Required too much for e’en Sir Godfrey Ball.</span> -<span class="i0">A member died, and, to supply his place,</span> -<span class="i0">Two heroes enter’d for th’ important race; <span class="linenum">100</span></span> -<span class="i0">Sir Godfrey’s friend and Earl Fitzdonnel’s son,</span> -<span class="i0">Lord Frederick Damer, both prepared to run;</span> -<span class="i0">And partial numbers saw with vast delight</span> -<span class="i0">Their good young lord oppose the proud old knight.</span> -<span class="i2">Our poet’s father, at a first request,</span> -<span class="i0">Gave the young lord his vote and interest,</span> -<span class="i0">And, what he could, our poet; for he stung</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span> -<span class="i0">The foe by verse satiric, said and sung.</span> -<span class="i0">Lord Frederick heard of all this youthful zeal,</span> -<span class="i0">And felt as lords upon a canvass feel; <span class="linenum">110</span></span> -<span class="i0">He read the satire, and he saw the use <span class="ws14">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">That such cool insult, and such keen abuse,<span class="ws10">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Might on the wavering minds of voting men produce; }</span> -<span class="i0">Then, too, his praises were in contrast seen,</span> -<span class="i0">“A lord as noble as the knight was mean.”</span> -<span class="i2">“I much rejoice,” he cried, “such worth to find;</span> -<span class="i0">To this the world must be no longer blind;</span> -<span class="i0">His glory will descend from sire to son,</span> -<span class="i0">The Burns of English race, the happier Chatterton.”</span> -<span class="i0">Our poet’s mind, now hurried and elate, <span class="linenum">120</span></span> -<span class="i0">Alarm’d the anxious parent for his fate;</span> -<span class="i0">Who saw with sorrow, should their friend succeed,</span> -<span class="i0">That much discretion would the poet need.</span> -<span class="i2">Their friend succeeded, and repaid the zeal</span> -<span class="i0">The poet felt, and made opposers feel,</span> -<span class="i0">By praise (from lords how soothing and how sweet!)</span> -<span class="i0">And invitation to his noble seat.</span> -<span class="i0">The father ponder’d, doubtful if the brain</span> -<span class="i0">Of his proud boy such honour could sustain;</span> -<span class="i0">Pleased with the favours offer’d to a son, <span class="linenum">130</span></span> -<span class="i0">But seeing dangers few so ardent shun.</span> -<span class="i2">Thus, when they parted, to the youthful breast</span> -<span class="i0">The father’s fears were by his love impress’d:</span> -<span class="i0">“There you will find, my son, the courteous ease</span> -<span class="i0">That must subdue the soul it means to please;</span> -<span class="i0">That soft attention which ev’n beauty pays</span> -<span class="i0">To wake our passions, or provoke our praise;</span> -<span class="i0">There all the eye beholds will give delight,</span> -<span class="i0">Where every sense is flatter’d like the sight.</span> -<span class="i0">This is your peril; can you from such scene <span class="linenum">140</span></span> -<span class="i0">Of splendour part, and feel your mind serene,</span> -<span class="i0">And in the father’s humble state resume</span> -<span class="i0">The frugal diet and the narrow room?”</span> -<span class="i0">To this the youth with cheerful heart replied,</span> -<span class="i0">Pleased with the trial, but as yet untried;</span> -<span class="i0">And while professing patience, should he fail,</span> -<span class="i0">He suffer’d hope o’er reason to prevail.</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span> -<span class="i2">Impatient, by the morning mail convey’d,</span> -<span class="i0">The happy guest his promised visit paid;</span> -<span class="i0">And now, arriving at the hall, he tried <span class="linenum">150</span></span> -<span class="i0">For air composed, serene and satisfied;</span> -<span class="i0">As he had practised in his room alone,</span> -<span class="i0">And there acquired a free and easy tone.</span> -<span class="i0">There he had said, “Whatever the degree</span> -<span class="i0">A man obtains, what more than man is he?”</span> -<span class="i0">And when arrived—“This room is but a room;</span> -<span class="i0">Can aught we see the steady soul o’ercome?</span> -<span class="i0">Let me in all a manly firmness show,</span> -<span class="i0">Upheld by talents, and their value know.”</span> -<span class="i2">This reason urged; but it surpass’d his skill <span class="linenum">160</span></span> -<span class="i0">To be in act as manly as in will:</span> -<span class="i0">When he his lordship and the lady saw,</span> -<span class="i0">Brave as he was, he felt oppress’d with awe;</span> -<span class="i0">And spite of verse, that so much praise had won,</span> -<span class="i0">The poet found he was the bailiff’s son.</span> -<span class="i2">But dinner came, and the succeeding hours</span> -<span class="i0">Fix’d his weak nerves, and raised his failing powers;</span> -<span class="i0">Praised and assured, he ventured once or twice</span> -<span class="i0">On some remark, and bravely broke the ice;</span> -<span class="i0">So that at night, reflecting on his words, <span class="linenum">170</span></span> -<span class="i0">He found in time, he might converse with lords.</span> -<span class="i2">Now was the sister of his patron seen—</span> -<span class="i0">A lovely creature, with majestic mien;</span> -<span class="i0">Who, softly smiling while she look’d so fair,</span> -<span class="i0">Praised the young poet with such friendly air;</span> -<span class="i0">Such winning frankness in her looks express’d,</span> -<span class="i0">And such attention to her brother’s guest,</span> -<span class="i0">That so much beauty, join’d with speech so kind,</span> -<span class="i0">Raised strong emotions in the poet’s mind;</span> -<span class="i0">Till reason fail’d his bosom to defend <span class="linenum">180</span></span> -<span class="i0">From the sweet power of this enchanting friend.—</span> -<span class="i0">Rash boy! what hope thy frantic mind invades?</span> -<span class="i0">What love confuses, and what pride persuades?</span> -<span class="i0">Awake to truth! shouldst thou deluded feed</span> -<span class="i0">On hopes so groundless, thou art mad indeed.</span> -<span class="i2">What say’st thou, wise-one? “that all-powerful love</span> -<span class="i0">Can fortune’s strong impediments remove;</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span> -<span class="i0">Nor is it strange that worth should wed to worth,</span> -<span class="i0">The pride of genius with the pride of birth.”</span> -<span class="i0">While thou art dreaming thus, the beauty spies <span class="linenum">190</span></span> -<span class="i0">Love in thy tremor, passion in thine eyes;</span> -<span class="i0">And, with th’ amusement pleased, of conquest vain,</span> -<span class="i0">She seeks her pleasure, careless of thy pain;</span> -<span class="i0">She gives thee praise to humble and confound,</span> -<span class="i0">Smiles to ensnare, and flatters thee to wound.</span> -<span class="i2">Why has she said that in the lowest state</span> -<span class="i0">The noble mind insures a noble fate?</span> -<span class="i0">And why thy daring mind to glory call?</span> -<span class="i0">That thou may’st dare and suffer, soar and fall.</span> -<span class="i0">Beauties are tyrants, and if they can reign, <span class="linenum">200</span></span> -<span class="i0">They have no feeling for their subject’s pain;</span> -<span class="i0">Their victim’s anguish gives their charms applause,</span> -<span class="i0">And their chief glory is the woe they cause.</span> -<span class="i0">Something of this was felt, in spite of love,</span> -<span class="i0">Which hope, in spite of reason, would remove.</span> -<span class="i2">Thus lived our youth, with conversation, books,</span> -<span class="i0">And Lady Emma’s soul-subduing looks;</span> -<span class="i0">Lost in delight, astonish’d at his lot, <span class="ws19">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">All prudence banish’d, all advice forgot— <span class="ws14">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Hopes, fears, and every thought, were fix’d upon the spot. }<span class="linenum">210</span></span> -<span class="i2">’Twas autumn yet, and many a day must frown</span> -<span class="i0">On Brandon-Hall, ere went my lord to town;</span> -<span class="i0">Meantime the father, who had heard his boy</span> -<span class="i0">Lived in a round of luxury and joy,</span> -<span class="i0">And, justly thinking that the youth was one</span> -<span class="i0">Who, meeting danger, was unskill’d to shun;</span> -<span class="i0">Knowing his temper, virtue, spirit, zeal,</span> -<span class="i0">How prone to hope and trust, believe and feel:</span> -<span class="i0">These on the parent’s soul their weight impress’d,</span> -<span class="i0">And thus he wrote the counsels of his breast. <span class="linenum">220</span></span> -<span class="i2">“John, thou’rt a genius; thou hast some pretence,</span> -<span class="i0">I think, to wit, but hast thou sterling sense?</span> -<span class="i0">That which, like gold, may through the world go forth,</span> -<span class="i0">And always pass for what ’tis truly worth?</span> -<span class="i0">Whereas this genius, like a bill, must take</span> -<span class="i0">Only the value our opinions make.</span> -<span class="i2">“Men famed for wit, of dangerous talents vain,</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span> -<span class="i0">Treat those of common parts with proud disdain;</span> -<span class="i0">The powers that wisdom would, improving, hide,</span> -<span class="i0">They blaze abroad with inconsid’rate pride; <span class="linenum">230</span></span> -<span class="i0">While yet but mere probationers for fame,</span> -<span class="i0">They seize the honour they should then disclaim:</span> -<span class="i0">Honour so hurried to the light must fade;</span> -<span class="i0">The lasting laurels flourish in the shade.</span> -<span class="i2">“Genius is jealous; I have heard of some</span> -<span class="i0">Who, if unnoticed, grew perversely dumb;</span> -<span class="i0">Nay, different talents would their envy raise;</span> -<span class="i0">Poets have sicken’d at a dancer’s praise;</span> -<span class="i0">And one, the happiest writer of his time,</span> -<span class="i0">Grew pale at hearing Reynolds was sublime; <span class="linenum">240</span></span> -<span class="i0">That Rutland’s duchess wore a heavenly smile—</span> -<span class="i0">And I, said he, neglected all the while!</span> -<span class="i2">“A waspish tribe are these, on gilded wings,</span> -<span class="i0">Humming their lays, and brandishing their stings;</span> -<span class="i0">And thus they move their friends and foes among,</span> -<span class="i0">Prepared for soothing or satiric song.</span> -<span class="i2">“Hear me, my boy; thou hast a virtuous mind—</span> -<span class="i0">But be thy virtues of the sober kind;</span> -<span class="i0">Be not a Quixote, ever up in arms</span> -<span class="i0">To give the guilty and the great alarms: <span class="linenum">250</span></span> -<span class="i0">If never heeded, thy attack is vain;</span> -<span class="i0">And if they heed thee, they’ll attack again;</span> -<span class="i0">Then, too, in striking at that heedless rate,</span> -<span class="i0">Thou in an instant may’st decide thy fate.</span> -<span class="i2">“Leave admonition—let the vicar give</span> -<span class="i0">Rules how the nobles of his flock should live;</span> -<span class="i0">Nor take that simple fancy to thy brain,</span> -<span class="i0">That thou canst cure the wicked and the vain.</span> -<span class="i2">“Our Pope, they say, once entertain’d the whim,</span> -<span class="i0">Who fear’d not God should be afraid of him; <span class="linenum">260</span></span> -<span class="i0">But grant they fear’d him, was it further said,</span> -<span class="i0">That he reform’d the hearts he made afraid?</span> -<span class="i0">Did Chartres mend? Ward, Waters, and a score</span> -<span class="i0">Of flagrant felons, with his floggings sore?</span> -<span class="i0">Was Cibber silenced? No; with vigour bless’d,</span> -<span class="i0">And brazen front, half earnest, half in jest,</span> -<span class="i0">He dared the bard to battle, and was seen</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span> -<span class="i0">In all his glory match’d with Pope and spleen;</span> -<span class="i0">Himself he stripp’d, the harder blow to hit,</span> -<span class="i0">Then boldly match’d his ribaldry with wit; <span class="linenum">270</span></span> -<span class="i0">The poet’s conquest Truth and Time proclaim,</span> -<span class="i0">But yet the battle hurt his peace and fame.</span> -<span class="i2">“Strive not too much for favour; seem at ease,</span> -<span class="i0">And rather pleased thyself, than bent to please:</span> -<span class="i0">Upon thy lord with decent care attend,</span> -<span class="i0">But not too near; thou canst not be a friend;</span> -<span class="i0">And favourite be not, ’tis a dangerous post—</span> -<span class="i0">Is gain’d by labour, and by fortune lost.</span> -<span class="i0">Talents like thine may make a man approved,</span> -<span class="i0">But other talents trusted and beloved. <span class="linenum">280</span></span> -<span class="i0">Look round, my son, and thou wilt early see</span> -<span class="i0">The kind of man thou art not form’d to be.</span> -<span class="i2">“The real favourites of the great are they</span> -<span class="i0">Who to their views and wants attention pay,</span> -<span class="i0">And pay it ever; who, with all their skill,</span> -<span class="i0">Dive to the heart, and learn the secret will;</span> -<span class="i0">If that be vicious, soon can they provide</span> -<span class="i0">The favourite ill, and o’er the soul preside;</span> -<span class="i0">For vice is weakness, and the artful know</span> -<span class="i0">Their power increases as the passions grow; <span class="linenum">290</span></span> -<span class="i0">If indolent the pupil, hard their task;</span> -<span class="i0">Such minds will ever for amusement ask;</span> -<span class="i0">And great the labour for a man to choose</span> -<span class="i0">Objects for one whom nothing can amuse!</span> -<span class="i0">For ere those objects can the soul delight,</span> -<span class="i0">They must to joy the soul herself excite;</span> -<span class="i0">Therefore it is, this patient, watchful kind</span> -<span class="i0">With gentle friction stir the drowsy mind;</span> -<span class="i0">Fix’d on their end, with caution they proceed,</span> -<span class="i0">And sometimes give, and sometimes take the lead; <span class="linenum">300</span></span> -<span class="i0">Will now a hint convey, and then retire,</span> -<span class="i0">And let the spark awake the lingering fire;</span> -<span class="i0">Or seek new joys and livelier pleasures bring,</span> -<span class="i0">To give the jaded sense a quick’ning spring.</span> -<span class="i2">“These arts, indeed, my son must not pursue;</span> -<span class="i0">Nor must he quarrel with the tribe that do:</span> -<span class="i0">It is not safe another’s crimes to know,</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span> -<span class="i0">Nor is it wise our proper worth to show.—</span> -<span class="i0">‘My lord,’ you say, ‘engaged me for that worth;’—</span> -<span class="i0">True, and preserve it ready to come forth: <span class="linenum">310</span></span> -<span class="i0">If question’d, fairly answer—and, that done,</span> -<span class="i0">Shrink back, be silent, and thy father’s son;</span> -<span class="i0">For they who doubt thy talents scorn thy boast,</span> -<span class="i0">But they who grant them will dislike thee most.</span> -<span class="i0">Observe the prudent; they in silence sit,</span> -<span class="i0">Display no learning, and affect no wit;</span> -<span class="i0">They hazard nothing, nothing they assume,</span> -<span class="i0">But know the useful art of <i>acting dumb</i>.</span> -<span class="i0">Yet to their eyes each varying look appears,</span> -<span class="i0">And every word finds entrance at their ears. <span class="linenum">320</span></span> -<span class="i2">“Thou art religion’s advocate—take heed,</span> -<span class="i0">Hurt not the cause thy pleasure ’tis to plead;</span> -<span class="i0">With wine before thee, and with wits beside,</span> -<span class="i0">Do not in strength of reas’ning powers confide;</span> -<span class="i0">What seems to thee convincing, certain, plain,</span> -<span class="i0">They will deny, and dare thee to maintain;</span> -<span class="i0">And thus will triumph o’er thy eager youth,</span> -<span class="i0">While thou wilt grieve for so disgracing truth.</span> -<span class="i2">“With pain I’ve seen, these wrangling wits among,</span> -<span class="i0">Faith’s weak defenders, passionate and young; <span class="linenum">330</span></span> -<span class="i0">Weak thou art not, yet not enough on guard,</span> -<span class="i0">Where wit and humour keep their watch and ward:</span> -<span class="i0">Men gay and noisy will o’erwhelm thy sense,</span> -<span class="i0">Then loudly laugh at Truth’s and thy expense;</span> -<span class="i0">While the kind ladies will do all they can</span> -<span class="i0">To check their mirth, and cry, ‘<i>The good young man</i>!’</span> -<span class="i2">“Prudence, my boy, forbids thee to commend</span> -<span class="i0">The cause or party of thy noble friend;</span> -<span class="i0">What are his praises worth, who must be known</span> -<span class="i0">To take a patron’s maxims for his own? <span class="linenum">340</span></span> -<span class="i0">When ladies sing, or in thy presence play,</span> -<span class="i0">Do not, dear John, in rapture melt away;</span> -<span class="i0">’Tis not thy part, there will be list’ners round,</span> -<span class="i0">To cry ‘<i>divine</i>!’ and dote upon the sound;</span> -<span class="i0">Remember too, that though the poor have ears,</span> -<span class="i0">They take not in the music of the spheres;</span> -<span class="i0">They must not feel the warble and the thrill,</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span> -<span class="i0">Or be dissolved in ecstacy at will;</span> -<span class="i0">Beside, ’tis freedom in a youth like thee</span> -<span class="i0">To drop his awe, and deal in ecstacy! <span class="linenum">350</span></span> -<span class="i2">“In silent ease, at least in silence, dine,</span> -<span class="i0">Nor one opinion start of food or wine:</span> -<span class="i0">Thou know’st that all the science thou canst boast</span> -<span class="i0">Is of thy father’s simple boil’d and roast;</span> -<span class="i0">Nor always these; he sometimes saved his cash,</span> -<span class="i0">By interlinear days of frugal hash.</span> -<span class="i0">Wine hadst thou seldom; wilt thou be so vain</span> -<span class="i0">As to decide on claret or champagne?</span> -<span class="i0">Dost thou from me derive this taste sublime,</span> -<span class="i0">Who order port the dozen at a time; <span class="linenum">360</span></span> -<span class="i0">When (every glass held precious in our eyes)</span> -<span class="i0">We judged the value by the bottle’s size?</span> -<span class="i0">Then, never merit for thy praise assume,</span> -<span class="i0">Its worth well knows each servant in the room.</span> -<span class="i2">“Hard, boy, thy task, to steer thy way among</span> -<span class="i0">That servile, supple, shrewd, insidious throng;</span> -<span class="i0">Who look upon thee as of doubtful race,</span> -<span class="i0">An interloper, one who wants a place:</span> -<span class="i0">Freedom with these let thy free soul condemn,</span> -<span class="i0">Nor with thy heart’s concerns associate them. <span class="linenum">370</span></span> -<span class="i2">“Of all be cautious—but be most afraid</span> -<span class="i0">Of the pale charms that grace my lady’s maid;</span> -<span class="i0">Of those sweet dimples, of that fraudful eye,<span class="ws7">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">The frequent glance, design’d for thee to spy;<span class="ws6">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">The soft bewitching look, the fond bewailing sigh. }</span> -<span class="i0">Let others frown and envy; she the while</span> -<span class="i0">(Insidious syren!) will demurely smile;</span> -<span class="i0">And, for her gentle purpose, every day</span> -<span class="i0">Inquire thy wants, and meet thee in thy way;</span> -<span class="i0">She has her blandishments, and, though so weak, <span class="linenum">380</span></span> -<span class="i0">Her person pleases, and her actions speak.</span> -<span class="i0">At first her folly may her aim defeat;</span> -<span class="i0">But kindness shown at length will kindness meet.</span> -<span class="i0">Have some offended? them will she disdain,</span> -<span class="i0">And, for thy sake, contempt and pity feign;</span> -<span class="i0">She hates the vulgar, she admires to look</span> -<span class="i0">On woods and groves, and dotes upon a book;</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span> -<span class="i0">Let her once see thee on her features dwell,</span> -<span class="i0">And hear one sigh—then, liberty, farewell.</span> -<span class="i2">“But, John, remember, we cannot maintain <span class="linenum">390</span></span> -<span class="i0">A poor, proud girl, extravagant and vain.</span> -<span class="i2">“Doubt much of friendship: shouldst thou find a friend</span> -<span class="i0">Pleased to advise thee, anxious to commend;</span> -<span class="i0">Should he the praises he has heard report,</span> -<span class="i0">And confidence (in thee confiding) court;</span> -<span class="i0">Much of neglectful patrons should he say,</span> -<span class="i0">And then exclaim—‘How long must merit stay;’</span> -<span class="i0">Then show how high thy modest hopes may stretch,</span> -<span class="i0">And point to stations far beyond thy reach:</span> -<span class="i0">Let such designer, by thy conduct, see <span class="linenum">400</span></span> -<span class="i0">(Civil and cool) he makes no dupe of thee;</span> -<span class="i0">And he will quit thee, as a man too wise</span> -<span class="i0">For him to ruin first, and then despise.</span> -<span class="i2">“Such are thy dangers;—yet, if thou canst steer</span> -<span class="i0">Past all the perils, all the quicksands clear,</span> -<span class="i0">Then may’st thou profit; but if storms prevail,</span> -<span class="i0">If foes beset thee, if thy spirits fail—</span> -<span class="i0">No more of winds or waters be the sport,</span> -<span class="i0">But in thy father’s mansion find a port.”</span> -<span class="i2">Our poet read.—“It is, in truth,” said he, <span class="linenum">410</span></span> -<span class="i0">“Correct in part, but what is <i>this</i> to me?</span> -<span class="i0">I love a foolish Abigail! in base</span> -<span class="i0">And sordid office! fear not such disgrace:</span> -<span class="i0">Am I so blind?”—“Or thou wouldst surely see</span> -<span class="i0">That lady’s fall, if she should stoop to thee.”—</span> -<span class="i0">“The cases differ.”—“True! for what surprise</span> -<span class="i0">Could from thy marriage with the maid arise?</span> -<span class="i0">But through the island would the shame be spread,</span> -<span class="i0">Should the fair mistress deign with thee to wed.”</span> -<span class="i2">John saw not this; and many a week had pass’d, <span class="linenum">420</span></span> -<span class="i0">While the vain beauty held her victim fast;</span> -<span class="i0">The noble friend still condescension show’d,</span> -<span class="i0">And, as before, with praises overflow’d;</span> -<span class="i0">But his grave lady took a silent view</span> -<span class="i0">Of all that pass’d, and, smiling, pitied too.</span> -<span class="i2">Cold grew the foggy morn; the day was brief;</span> -<span class="i0">Loose on the cherry hung the crimson leaf;</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span> -<span class="i0">The dew dwelt ever on the herb; the woods</span> -<span class="i0">Roar’d with strong blasts, with mighty showers the floods;</span> -<span class="i0">All green was vanish’d, save of pine and yew, <span class="linenum">430</span></span> -<span class="i0">That still display’d their melancholy hue;</span> -<span class="i0">Save the green holly with its berries red,</span> -<span class="i0">And the green moss that o’er the gravel spread.</span> -<span class="i2">To public views my lord must soon attend;</span> -<span class="i0">And soon the ladies—would they leave their friend?</span> -<span class="i0">The time was fix’d—approach’d—was near—was come,</span> -<span class="i0">The trying time that fill’d his soul with gloom.</span> -<span class="i0">Thoughtful our poet in the morning rose,</span> -<span class="i0">And cried, “One hour my fortune will disclose;</span> -<span class="i0">Terrific hour! from thee have I to date <span class="linenum">440</span></span> -<span class="i0">Life’s loftier views, or my degraded state;</span> -<span class="i0">For now to be what I have been before</span> -<span class="i0">Is so to fall, that I can rise no more.”</span> -<span class="i2">The morning meal was past, and all around</span> -<span class="i0">The mansion rang with each discordant sound;</span> -<span class="i0">Haste was in every foot, and every look</span> -<span class="i0">The trav’ller’s joy for London-journey spoke.</span> -<span class="i0">Not so our youth; whose feelings, at the noise</span> -<span class="i0">Of preparation, had no touch of joys;</span> -<span class="i0">He pensive stood, and saw each carriage drawn, <span class="linenum">450</span></span> -<span class="i0">With lackeys mounted, ready on the lawn.</span> -<span class="i0">The ladies came; and John in terror threw</span> -<span class="i0">One painful glance, and then his eyes withdrew;</span> -<span class="i0">Not with such speed, but he in other eyes</span> -<span class="i0">With anguish read—“I pity but despise—</span> -<span class="i0">Unhappy boy! presumptuous scribbler!—you</span> -<span class="i0">To dream such dreams!—be sober, and adieu!”</span> -<span class="i2">Then came the noble friend—“And will my lord</span> -<span class="i0">Vouchsafe no comfort? drop no soothing word?</span> -<span class="i0">Yes, he must speak:” he speaks, “My good young friend,—</span> -<span class="i0">You know my views; upon my care depend; <span class="linenum">461</span></span> -<span class="i0">My hearty thanks to your good father pay,</span> -<span class="i0">And be a student.—Harry, drive away.”</span> -<span class="i2">Stillness reign’d all around; of late so full,</span> -<span class="i0">The busy scene deserted now and dull.</span> -<span class="i0">Stern is his nature who forbears to feel</span> -<span class="i0">Gloom o’er his spirits on such trials steal;</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span> -<span class="i0">Most keenly felt our poet as he went</span> -<span class="i0">From room to room without a fix’d intent;</span> -<span class="i0">“And here,” he thought, “I was caress’d; admired <span class="linenum">470</span></span> -<span class="i0">Were here my songs; she smiled, and I aspired:</span> -<span class="i0">The change how grievous!” As he mused, a dame</span> -<span class="i0">Busy and peevish to her duties came;</span> -<span class="i0">Aside the tables and the chairs she drew,</span> -<span class="i0">And sang and mutter’d in the poet’s view:—</span> -<span class="i0">“This was her fortune; here they leave the poor;</span> -<span class="i0">Enjoy themselves, and think of us no more;</span> -<span class="i0">I had a promise—” here his pride and shame</span> -<span class="i0">Urged him to fly from this familiar dame;</span> -<span class="i0">He gave one farewell look, and by a coach <span class="linenum">480</span></span> -<span class="i0">Reach’d his own mansion at the night’s approach.</span> -<span class="i2">His father met him with an anxious air,</span> -<span class="i0">Heard his sad tale, and check’d what seem’d despair;</span> -<span class="i0">Hope was in him corrected, but alive;</span> -<span class="i0">My lord would something for a friend contrive;</span> -<span class="i0">His word was pledged; our hero’s feverish mind</span> -<span class="i0">Admitted this, and half his grief resign’d.</span> -<span class="i0">But when three months had fled, and every day</span> -<span class="i0">Drew from the sickening hopes their strength away,</span> -<span class="i0">The youth became abstracted, pensive, dull; <span class="linenum">490</span></span> -<span class="i0">He utter’d nothing, though his heart was full.</span> -<span class="i0">Teased by inquiring words and anxious looks,</span> -<span class="i0">And all forgetful of his muse and books,</span> -<span class="i0">Awake he mourn’d, but in his sleep perceived</span> -<span class="i0">A lovely vision that his pain relieved;</span> -<span class="i0">His soul transported, hail’d the happy seat,</span> -<span class="i0">Where once his pleasure was so pure and sweet;</span> -<span class="i0">Where joys departed came in blissful view,</span> -<span class="i0">Till reason wak’d, and not a joy he knew.</span> -<span class="i2">Questions now vex’d his spirit, most from those <span class="linenum">500</span></span> -<span class="i0">Who are called friends, because they are not foes.</span> -<span class="i0">“John!” they would say; he, starting, turn’d around;</span> -<span class="i0">“John!” there was something shocking in the sound;</span> -<span class="i0">Ill brook’d he then the pert familiar phrase,</span> -<span class="i0">The untaught freedom, and th’ inquiring gaze;</span> -<span class="i0">Much was his temper touch’d, his spleen provoked,</span> -<span class="i0">When ask’d how ladies talk’d, or walk’d, or look’d?</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span> -<span class="i0">What said my lord of politics? how spent</span> -<span class="i0">He there his time? and was he glad he went?”</span> -<span class="i2">At length a letter came, both cool and brief, <span class="linenum">510</span></span> -<span class="i0">But still it gave the burthen’d heart relief:</span> -<span class="i0">Though not inspired by lofty hopes, the youth</span> -<span class="i0">Placed much reliance on Lord Frederick’s truth;</span> -<span class="i0">Summon’d to town, he thought the visit one</span> -<span class="i0">Where something fair and friendly would be done;</span> -<span class="i0">Although he judged not, as before his fall,</span> -<span class="i0">When all was love and promise at the hall.</span> -<span class="i2">Arrived in town, he early sought to know</span> -<span class="i0">The fate such dubious friendship would bestow;</span> -<span class="i0">At a tall building, trembling, he appear’d, <span class="linenum">520</span></span> -<span class="i0">And his low rap was indistinctly heard;</span> -<span class="i0">A well-known servant came—“A while,” said he,</span> -<span class="i0">“Be pleased to wait; my lord has company.”</span> -<span class="i2">Alone our hero sate; the news in hand,</span> -<span class="i0">Which, though he read, he could not understand.</span> -<span class="i0">Cold was the day; in days so cold as these</span> -<span class="i0">There needs a fire, where minds and bodies freeze;</span> -<span class="i0">The vast and echoing room, the polish’d grate,</span> -<span class="i0">The crimson chairs, the sideboard with its plate;</span> -<span class="i0">The splendid sofa, which, though made for rest, <span class="linenum">530</span></span> -<span class="i0">He then had thought it freedom to have press’d;</span> -<span class="i0">The shining tables, curiously inlaid,</span> -<span class="i0">Were all in comfortless proud style display’d;</span> -<span class="i0">And to the troubled feelings terror gave,</span> -<span class="i0">That made the once-dear friend the sick’ning slave.</span> -<span class="i2">“Was he forgotten?” Thrice upon his ear</span> -<span class="i0">Struck the loud clock, yet no relief was near;</span> -<span class="i0">Each rattling carriage, and each thundering stroke</span> -<span class="i0">On the loud door, the dream of fancy broke;</span> -<span class="i0">Oft as a servant chanced the way to come, <span class="linenum">540</span></span> -<span class="i0">“Brings he a message?” no! he pass’d the room.</span> -<span class="i0">At length ’tis certain; “Sir you will attend</span> -<span class="i0">At twelve on Thursday!” Thus the day had end.</span> -<span class="i2">Vex’d by these tedious hours of needless pain,</span> -<span class="i0">John left the noble mansion with disdain;</span> -<span class="i0">For there was something in that still, cold place,</span> -<span class="i0">That seem’d to threaten and portend disgrace.</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span> -<span class="i2">Punctual again the modest rap declared</span> -<span class="i0">The youth attended; then was all prepared:</span> -<span class="i0">For the same servant, by his lord’s command, <span class="linenum">550</span></span> -<span class="i0">A paper offer’d to his trembling hand.</span> -<span class="i0">“No more!” he cried; “disdains he to afford</span> -<span class="i0">One kind expression, one consoling word?”</span> -<span class="i2">With troubled spirit he began to read</span> -<span class="i0">That “In the church my lord could not succeed;”</span> -<span class="i0">Who had “to peers of either kind applied,</span> -<span class="i0">And was with dignity and grace denied;</span> -<span class="i0">While his own livings were by men possess’d,</span> -<span class="i0">Not likely in their chancels yet to rest;</span> -<span class="i0">And therefore, all things weigh’d (as he, my lord, <span class="linenum">560</span></span> -<span class="i0">Had done maturely, and he pledged his word),</span> -<span class="i0">Wisdom it seem’d for John to turn his view</span> -<span class="i0">To busier scenes, and bid the church adieu!”</span> -<span class="i2">Here grieved the youth; he felt his father’s pride</span> -<span class="i0">Must with his own be shock’d and mortified;</span> -<span class="i0">But when he found his future comforts placed</span> -<span class="i0">Where he, alas! conceived himself disgraced—</span> -<span class="i0">In some appointment on the London quays,</span> -<span class="i0">He bade farewell to honour and to ease;</span> -<span class="i0">His spirit fell; and, from that hour assured <span class="linenum">570</span></span> -<span class="i0">How vain his dreams, he suffer’d and was cured.</span> -<span class="i2">Our poet hurried on, with wish to fly</span> -<span class="i0">From all mankind, to be conceal’d, and die.</span> -<span class="i0">Alas! what hopes, what high romantic views <span class="ws17">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Did that one visit to the soul infuse, <span class="ws24">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Which cherish’d with such love, ’twas worse than death to lose! }</span> -<span class="i0">Still he would strive, though painful was the strife,</span> -<span class="i0">To walk in this appointed road of life;</span> -<span class="i0">On these low duties duteous he would wait,</span> -<span class="i0">And patient bear the anguish of his fate. <span class="linenum">580</span></span> -<span class="i0">Thanks to the patron, but of coldest kind,</span> -<span class="i0">Express’d the sadness of the poet’s mind;</span> -<span class="i0">Whose heavy hours were pass’d with busy men,</span> -<span class="i0">In the dull practice of th’ official pen;</span> -<span class="i0">Who to superiors must in time impart</span> -<span class="i0">(The custom this) his progress in their art.</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span> -<span class="i0">But so had grief on his perception wrought,</span> -<span class="i0">That all unheeded were the duties taught;</span> -<span class="i0">No answers gave he when his trial came,</span> -<span class="i0">Silent he stood, but suffering without shame; <span class="linenum">590</span></span> -<span class="i0">And they observed that words severe or kind</span> -<span class="i0">Made no impression on his wounded mind;</span> -<span class="i0">For all perceived from whence his failure rose—</span> -<span class="i0">Some grief whose cause he deign’d not to disclose.</span> -<span class="i0">A soul averse from scenes and works so new;</span> -<span class="i0">Fear, ever shrinking from the vulgar crew;</span> -<span class="i0">Distaste for each mechanic law and rule,</span> -<span class="i0">Thoughts of past honour and a patron cool;</span> -<span class="i0">A grieving parent, and a feeling mind,</span> -<span class="i0">Timid and ardent, tender and refined: <span class="linenum">600</span></span> -<span class="i0">These all with mighty force the youth assail’d,</span> -<span class="i0">Till his soul fainted, and his reason fail’d.</span> -<span class="i0">When this was known, and some debate arose</span> -<span class="i0">How they who saw it should the fact disclose,</span> -<span class="i0">He found their purpose, and in terror fled</span> -<span class="i0">From unseen kindness, with mistaken dread.</span> -<span class="i2">Meantime the parent was distress’d to find</span> -<span class="i0">His son no longer for a priest design’d;</span> -<span class="i0">But still he gain’d some comfort by the news</span> -<span class="i0">Of John’s promotion, though with humbler views; <span class="linenum">610</span></span> -<span class="i0">For he conceived that in no distant time</span> -<span class="i0">The boy would learn to scramble and to climb.</span> -<span class="i0">He little thought a son, his hope and pride,</span> -<span class="i0">His favour’d boy, was now a home denied:</span> -<span class="i0">Yes! while the parent was intent to trace</span> -<span class="i0">How men in office climb from place to place,</span> -<span class="i0">By day, by night, o’er moor and heath and hill, }</span> -<span class="i0">Roved the sad youth, with ever-changing will, <span class="ws2">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Of every aid bereft, exposed to every ill.<span class="ws7">}</span></span> -<span class="i2">Thus as he sate, absorb’d in all the care <span class="linenum">620</span></span> -<span class="i0">And all the hope that anxious fathers share,</span> -<span class="i0">A friend abruptly to his presence brought,</span> -<span class="i0">With trembling hand, the subject of his thought,</span> -<span class="i0">Whom he had found afflicted and subdued</span> -<span class="i0">By hunger, sorrow, cold, and solitude.</span> -<span class="i2">Silent he enter’d the forgotten room</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span> -<span class="i0">As ghostly forms may be conceived to come;</span> -<span class="i0">With sorrow-shrunken face and hair upright,</span> -<span class="i0">He look’d dismay, neglect, despair, affright;</span> -<span class="i0">But, dead to comfort, and on misery thrown, <span class="linenum">630</span></span> -<span class="i0">His parent’s loss he felt not, nor his own.</span> -<span class="i2">The good man, struck with horror, cried aloud,</span> -<span class="i0">And drew around him an astonish’d crowd;</span> -<span class="i0">The sons and servants to the father ran,</span> -<span class="i0">To share the feelings of the grieved old man.</span> -<span class="i2">“Our brother, speak!” they all exclaim’d; “explain</span> -<span class="i0">Thy grief, thy suffering;”—but they ask’d in vain:</span> -<span class="i0">The friend told all he knew; and all was known,</span> -<span class="i0">Save the sad causes whence the ills had grown.</span> -<span class="i0">But, if obscure the cause, they all agreed <span class="linenum">640</span></span> -<span class="i0">From rest and kindness must the cure proceed:</span> -<span class="i0">And he was cured; for quiet, love, and care,</span> -<span class="i0">Strove with the gloom, and broke on the despair.</span> -<span class="i0">Yet slow their progress; and, as vapours move</span> -<span class="i0">Dense and reluctant from the wintry grove;</span> -<span class="i0">All is confusion till the morning light</span> -<span class="i0">Gives the dim scene obscurely to the sight;</span> -<span class="i0">More and yet more defined the trunks appear,</span> -<span class="i0">Till the wild prospect stands distinct and clear—</span> -<span class="i0">So the dark mind of our young poet grew <span class="linenum">650</span></span> -<span class="i0">Clear and sedate; the dreadful mist withdrew;</span> -<span class="i0">And he resembled that bleak wintry scene,</span> -<span class="i0">Sad, though unclouded; dismal, though serene.</span> -<span class="i2">At times he utter’d, “What a dream was mine!</span> -<span class="i0">And what a prospect! glorious and divine!</span> -<span class="i0">Oh! in that room, and on that night, to see</span> -<span class="i0">These looks, that sweetness beaming all on me;</span> -<span class="i0">That syren-flattery—and to send me then,</span> -<span class="i0">Hope-raised and soften’d, to those heartless men;</span> -<span class="i0">That dark-brow’d stern director, pleased to show <span class="linenum">660</span></span> -<span class="i0">Knowledge of subjects I disdain’d to know;</span> -<span class="i0">Cold and controlling—but ’tis gone, ’tis past;</span> -<span class="i0">I had my trial, and have peace at last.”</span> -<span class="i2">Now grew the youth resign’d; he bade adieu</span> -<span class="i0">To all that hope, to all that fancy drew;</span> -<span class="i0">His frame was languid, and the hectic heat</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span> -<span class="i0">Flush’d on his pallid face, and countless beat</span> -<span class="i0">The quick’ning pulse, and faint the limbs that bore</span> -<span class="i0">The slender form that soon would breathe no more.</span> -<span class="i2">Then hope of holy kind the soul sustain’d, <span class="linenum">670</span></span> -<span class="i0">And not a lingering thought of earth remain’d;</span> -<span class="i0">Now Heaven had all, and he could smile at love,</span> -<span class="i0">And the wild sallies of his youth reprove;</span> -<span class="i0">Then could he dwell upon the tempting days,</span> -<span class="i0">The proud aspiring thought, the partial praise;</span> -<span class="i0">Victorious now, his worldly views were closed,</span> -<span class="i0">And on the bed of death the youth reposed.</span> -<span class="i2">The father grieved—but, as the poet’s heart</span> -<span class="i0">Was all unfitted for his earthly part;</span> -<span class="i0">As, he conceived, some other haughty fair <span class="linenum">680</span></span> -<span class="i0">Would, had he lived, have led him to despair;</span> -<span class="i0">As, with this fear, the silent grave shut out</span> -<span class="i0">All feverish hope, and all tormenting doubt;</span> -<span class="i0">While the strong faith the pious youth possess’d,</span> -<span class="i0">His hope enlivening, gave his sorrows rest:</span> -<span class="i0">Soothed by these thoughts, he felt a mournful joy</span> -<span class="i0">For his aspiring and devoted boy.</span> -<span class="i2">Meantime the news through various channels spread:</span> -<span class="i0">The youth, once favour’d with such praise, was dead.</span> -<span class="i0">“Emma,” the lady cried, “my words attend, <span class="linenum">690</span></span> -<span class="i0">Your syren-smiles have kill’d your humble friend;</span> -<span class="i0">The hope you raised can now delude no more,</span> -<span class="i0">Nor charms, that once inspired, can now restore.”</span> -<span class="i2">Faint was the flush of anger and of shame,</span> -<span class="i0">That o’er the cheek of conscious beauty came.</span> -<span class="i0">“You censure not,” said she, “the sun’s bright rays,</span> -<span class="i0">When fools imprudent dare the dangerous gaze;</span> -<span class="i0">And, should a stripling look till he were blind,</span> -<span class="i0">You would not justly call the light unkind.—</span> -<span class="i0">But is he dead? and am I to suppose <span class="linenum">700</span></span> -<span class="i0">The power of poison in such looks as those?”</span> -<span class="i0">She spoke, and, pointing to the mirror, cast</span> -<span class="i0">A pleased gay glance, and curtsied as she pass’d.</span> -<span class="i2">My lord, to whom the poet’s fate was told,</span> -<span class="i0">Was much affected, for a man so cold.</span> -<span class="i0">“Dead!” said his lordship, “run distracted, mad!</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span> -<span class="i0">Upon my soul I’m sorry for the lad;</span> -<span class="i0">And now, no doubt, th’ obliging world will say</span> -<span class="i0">That my harsh usage help’d him on his way.</span> -<span class="i0">What! I suppose, I should have nursed his muse, <span class="linenum">710</span></span> -<span class="i0">And with champagne have brighten’d up his views:</span> -<span class="i0">Then had he made me famed my whole life long,</span> -<span class="i0">And stunn’d my ears with gratitude and song.</span> -<span class="i0">Still, should the father hear that I regret</span> -<span class="i0">Our joint misfortune—Yes! I’ll not forget.”—</span> -<span class="i2">Thus they.—The father to his grave convey’d</span> -<span class="i0">The son he loved, and his last duties paid.</span> -<span class="i2">“There lies my boy,” he cried, “of care bereft,</span> -<span class="i0">And, Heav’n be praised, I’ve not a genius left:</span> -<span class="i0">No one among ye, sons! is doom’d to live <span class="linenum">720</span></span> -<span class="i0">On high-raised hopes of what the great may give;</span> -<span class="i0">None, with exalted views and fortunes mean,</span> -<span class="i0">To die in anguish, or to live in spleen.</span> -<span class="i0">Your pious brother soon escaped the strife</span> -<span class="i0">Of such contention, but it cost his life;</span> -<span class="i0">You then, my sons, upon yourselves depend,</span> -<span class="i0">And in your own exertions find the friend.”</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span> -</div></div> - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> -<h3>TALE VI.</h3> -<p class="f110"><i>THE FRANK COURTSHIP.</i></p> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poem2"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i2">Yes, faith; it is my cousin’s duty to make curtsy, and say, “Father,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">as it please you;” but [yet] for all that, cousin, let him be a handsome<br /></span> -<span class="i0">fellow, or else make another curtsy, and say, “Father, as it pleases me.”<br /></span> -<span class="i20"><i>Much Ado about Nothing,</i> Act II. Scene 1.<br /><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i18">He cannot flatter, he!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An honest mind and plain—he must speak truth.<br /></span> -<span class="i32"><i>King Lear</i>, Act II. Scene 2.<br /><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i2">God hath given you one face, and you make yourselves another; you<br /></span> -<span class="i0">jig, you amble, [and you lisp, and] nick-name God’s creatures, and make<br /></span> -<span class="i0">your wantonness your ignorance.<br /></span> -<span class="i34"><i>Hamlet</i>, Act III. Scene 1.<br /><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">What fire is in mine ears? Can this be true?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">[Stand I condemn’d] for pride and scorn so much?<br /></span> -<span class="i19"><i>Much Ado about Nothing</i>, Act III. Scene 1.</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="f120 break space-above2"><b>TALE VI.</b></p> -<p class="f110"><i>THE FRANK COURTSHIP.</i></p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Grave Jonas Kindred, Sybil Kindred’s sire,</span> -<span class="i0">Was six feet high, and look’d six inches higher;</span> -<span class="i0">Erect, morose, determined, solemn, slow,</span> -<span class="i0">Who knew the man, could never cease to know;</span> -<span class="i0">His faithful spouse, when Jonas was not by,</span> -<span class="i0">Had a firm presence and a steady eye;</span> -<span class="i0">But with her husband dropp’d her look and tone,</span> -<span class="i0">And Jonas ruled unquestion’d and alone.</span> -<span class="i2">He read, and oft would quote the sacred words,</span> -<span class="i0">How pious husbands of their wives were lords; <span class="linenum">10</span></span> -<span class="i0">Sarah called Abraham lord! and who could be,</span> -<span class="i0">So Jonas thought, a greater man than he?</span> -<span class="i0">Himself he view’d with undisguised respect,</span> -<span class="i0">And never pardon’d freedom or neglect.</span> -<span class="i2">They had one daughter, and this favourite child</span> -<span class="i0">Had oft the father of his spleen beguiled;</span> -<span class="i0">Soothed by attention from her early years,</span> -<span class="i0">She gain’d all wishes by her smiles or tears:</span> -<span class="i0">But Sybil then was in that playful time,</span> -<span class="i0">When contradiction is not held a crime; <span class="linenum">20</span></span> -<span class="i0">When parents yield their children idle praise</span> -<span class="i0">For faults corrected in their after days.</span> -<span class="i2">Peace in the sober house of Jonas dwelt,</span> -<span class="i0">Where each his duty and his station felt:</span> -<span class="i0">Yet not that peace some favour’d mortals find,</span> -<span class="i0">In equal views and harmony of mind;</span> -<span class="i0">Not the soft peace that blesses those who love,</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span> -<span class="i0">Where all with one consent in union move;</span> -<span class="i0">But it was that which one superior will</span> -<span class="i0">Commands, by making all inferiors still; <span class="linenum">30</span></span> -<span class="i0">Who bids all murmurs, all objections cease,</span> -<span class="i0">And with imperious voice announces—Peace!</span> -<span class="i2">They were, to wit, a remnant of that crew,</span> -<span class="i0">Who, as their foes maintain, their sovereign slew:</span> -<span class="i0">An independent race, precise, correct,</span> -<span class="i0">Who ever married in the kindred sect.</span> -<span class="i0">No son or daughter of their order wed</span> -<span class="i0">A friend to England’s king who lost his head;</span> -<span class="i0">Cromwell was still their saint, and, when they met,</span> -<span class="i0">They mourn’d that saints<a name="FNanchor_4_4" id="FNanchor_4_4"></a><a href="#Footnote_4_4" class="fnanchor">[4]</a> - were not our rulers yet. <span class="linenum">40</span></span> -<span class="i2">Fix’d were their habits; they arose betimes,</span> -<span class="i0">Then pray’d their hour, and sang their party-rhymes:</span> -<span class="i0">Their meals were plenteous, regular, and plain;</span> -<span class="i0">The trade of Jonas brought him constant gain;</span> -<span class="i0">Vender of hops and malt, of coals and corn—</span> -<span class="i0">And, like his father, he was merchant born.</span> -<span class="i0">Neat was their house; each table, chair, and stool,</span> -<span class="i0">Stood in its place, or moving moved by rule;</span> -<span class="i0">No lively print or picture graced the room;</span> -<span class="i0">A plain brown paper lent its decent gloom; <span class="linenum">50</span></span> -<span class="i0">But here the eye, in glancing round, survey’d</span> -<span class="i0">A small recess that seem’d for china made;</span> -<span class="i0">Such pleasing pictures seem’d this pencill’d ware,</span> -<span class="i0">That few would search for nobler objects there—</span> -<span class="i0">Yet, turn’d by chosen friends, and there appear’d</span> -<span class="i0">His stern, strong features, whom they all revered;</span> -<span class="i0">For there in lofty air was seen to stand</span> -<span class="i0">The bold protector of the conquer’d land;</span> -<span class="i0">Drawn in that look with which he wept and swore,</span> -<span class="i0">Turn’d out the members, and made fast the door, <span class="linenum">60</span></span> -<span class="i0">Ridding the house of every knave and drone;</span> -<span class="i0">Forced, though it grieved his soul, to rule alone.</span> -<span class="i0">The stern, still smile each friend, approving, gave;</span> -<span class="i0">Then turn’d the view, and all again were grave.</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span> -<span class="i2">There stood a clock, though small the owner’s need—</span> -<span class="i0">For habit told when all things should proceed.</span> -<span class="i0">Few their amusements, but, when friends appear’d,</span> -<span class="i0">They with the world’s distress their spirits cheer’d;</span> -<span class="i0">The nation’s guilt, that would not long endure</span> -<span class="i0">The reign of men so modest and so pure. <span class="linenum">70</span></span> -<span class="i0">Their town was large, and seldom pass’d a day</span> -<span class="i0">But some had fail’d, and others gone astray;</span> -<span class="i0">Clerks had absconded, wives eloped, girls flown</span> -<span class="i0">To Gretna-Green, or sons rebellious grown;</span> -<span class="i0">Quarrels and fires arose;—and it was plain</span> -<span class="i0">The times were bad; the saints had ceased to reign!</span> -<span class="i0">A few yet lived to languish and to mourn</span> -<span class="i0">For good old manners, never to return.</span> -<span class="i2">Jonas had sisters, and of these was one</span> -<span class="i0">Who lost a husband and an only son: <span class="linenum">80</span></span> -<span class="i0">Twelve months her sables she in sorrow wore,</span> -<span class="i0">And mourn’d so long that she could mourn no more.</span> -<span class="i0">Distant from Jonas, and from all her race,</span> -<span class="i0">She now resided in a lively place;</span> -<span class="i0">There, by the sect unseen, at whist she play’d,</span> -<span class="i0">Nor was of churchmen or their church afraid.</span> -<span class="i0">If much of this the graver brother heard,</span> -<span class="i0">He something censured, but he little fear’d;</span> -<span class="i0">He knew her rich and frugal; for the rest,</span> -<span class="i0">He felt no care, or, if he felt, suppress’d; <span class="linenum">90</span></span> -<span class="i0">Nor, for companion when she ask’d her niece,</span> -<span class="i0">Had he suspicions that disturbed his peace;</span> -<span class="i0">Frugal and rich, these virtues as a charm</span> -<span class="i0">Preserved the thoughtful man from all alarm;</span> -<span class="i0">An infant yet, she soon would home return,</span> -<span class="i0">Nor stay the manners of the world to learn;</span> -<span class="i0">Meantime his boys would all his care engross,</span> -<span class="i0">And be his comforts if he felt the loss.</span> -<span class="i2">The sprightly Sybil, pleased and unconfined,</span> -<span class="i0">Felt the pure pleasure of the op’ning mind: <span class="linenum">100</span></span> -<span class="i0">All here was gay and cheerful—all at home</span> -<span class="i0">Unvaried quiet and unruffled gloom.</span> -<span class="i0">There were no changes, and amusements few;</span> -<span class="i0">Here, all was varied, wonderful, and new;</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span> -<span class="i0">There were plain meals, plain dresses, and grave looks—</span> -<span class="i0">Here, gay companions and amusing books;</span> -<span class="i0">And the young beauty soon began to taste</span> -<span class="i0">The light vocations of the scene she graced.</span> -<span class="i2">A man of business feels it as a crime</span> -<span class="i0">On calls domestic to consume his time; <span class="linenum">110</span></span> -<span class="i0">Yet this grave man had not so cold a heart,</span> -<span class="i0">But with his daughter he was grieved to part;</span> -<span class="i0">And he demanded that in every year</span> -<span class="i0">The aunt and niece should at his house appear.</span> -<span class="i2">“Yes! we must go, my child, and by our dress</span> -<span class="i0">A grave conformity of mind express;</span> -<span class="i0">Must sing at meeting, and from cards refrain,</span> -<span class="i0">The more t’ enjoy when we return again.”</span> -<span class="i2">Thus spake the aunt, and the discerning child</span> -<span class="i0">Was pleased to learn how fathers are beguiled. <span class="linenum">120</span></span> -<span class="i0">Her artful part the young dissembler took,</span> -<span class="i0">And from the matron caught th’ approving look.</span> -<span class="i0">When thrice the friends had met, excuse was sent</span> -<span class="i0">For more delay, and Jonas was content;</span> -<span class="i0">Till a tall maiden by her sire was seen,</span> -<span class="i0">In all the bloom and beauty of sixteen;</span> -<span class="i0">He gazed admiring;—she, with visage prim,</span> -<span class="i0">Glanced an arch look of gravity on him;</span> -<span class="i0">For she was gay at heart, but wore disguise,</span> -<span class="i0">And stood a vestal in her father’s eyes— <span class="linenum">130</span></span> -<span class="i0">Pure, pensive, simple, sad; the damsel’s heart,</span> -<span class="i0">When Jonas praised, reproved her for the part;</span> -<span class="i0">For Sybil, fond of pleasure, gay and light,</span> -<span class="i0">Had still a secret bias to the right;</span> -<span class="i0">Vain as she was—and flattery made her vain—</span> -<span class="i0">Her simulation gave her bosom pain.</span> -<span class="i2">Again return’d, the matron and the niece</span> -<span class="i0">Found the late quiet gave their joy increase;</span> -<span class="i0">The aunt, infirm, no more her visits paid,</span> -<span class="i0">But still with her sojourn’d the favourite maid. <span class="linenum">140</span></span> -<span class="i0">Letters were sent when franks could be procured;</span> -<span class="i0">And, when they could not, silence was endured.</span> -<span class="i0">All were in health, and, if they older grew,</span> -<span class="i0">It seem’d a fact that none among them knew;</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span> -<span class="i0">The aunt and niece still led a pleasant life,</span> -<span class="i0">And quiet days had Jonas and his wife.</span> -<span class="i2">Near him a widow dwelt of worthy fame:</span> -<span class="i0">Like his her manners, and her creed the same.</span> -<span class="i0">The wealth her husband left her care retain’d</span> -<span class="i0">For one tall youth, and widow she remained; <span class="linenum">150</span></span> -<span class="i0">His love respectful all her care repaid,</span> -<span class="i0">Her wishes watch’d, and her commands obey’d.</span> -<span class="i2">Sober he was and grave from early youth,</span> -<span class="i0">Mindful of forms, but more intent on truth;</span> -<span class="i0">In a light drab he uniformly dress’d,</span> -<span class="i0">And look serene th’ unruffled mind express’d;</span> -<span class="i0">A hat with ample verge his brows o’erspread,</span> -<span class="i0">And his brown locks curl’d graceful on his head;</span> -<span class="i0">Yet might observers in his speaking eye<span class="ws17">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Some observation, some acuteness spy; <span class="ws17">}</span><span class="linenum">160</span></span> -<span class="i0">The friendly thought it keen, the treacherous deem’d it sly. }</span> -<span class="i0">Yet not a crime could foe or friend detect;</span> -<span class="i0">His actions all were, like his speech, correct;</span> -<span class="i0">And they who jested on a mind so sound,</span> -<span class="i0">Upon his virtues must their laughter found:</span> -<span class="i0">‘Chaste, sober, solemn,’ and ‘devout’ they named</span> -<span class="i0">Him who was thus, and not of <i>this</i> ashamed.</span> -<span class="i2">Such were the virtues Jonas found in one</span> -<span class="i0">In whom he warmly wish’d to find a son.</span> -<span class="i0">Three years had pass’d since he had Sybil seen; <span class="linenum">170</span></span> -<span class="i0">But she was doubtless what she once had been—</span> -<span class="i0">Lovely and mild, obedient and discreet:</span> -<span class="i0">The pair must love whenever they should meet;</span> -<span class="i0">Then, ere the widow or her son should choose</span> -<span class="i0">Some happier maid, he would explain his views.</span> -<span class="i0">Now she, like him, was politic and shrewd,</span> -<span class="i0">With strong desire of lawful gain embued;</span> -<span class="i0">To all he said, she bow’d with much respect,</span> -<span class="i0">Pleased to comply, yet seeming to reject;</span> -<span class="i0">Cool, and yet eager, each admired the strength <span class="linenum">180</span></span> -<span class="i0">Of the opponent, and agreed at length.</span> -<span class="i0">As a drawn battle shows to each a force,</span> -<span class="i0">Powerful as his, he honours it of course:</span> -<span class="i0">So in these neighbours, each the power discern’d,</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span> -<span class="i0">And gave the praise that was to each return’d.</span> -<span class="i2">Jonas now ask’d his daughter; and the aunt,</span> -<span class="i0">Though loth to lose her, was obliged to grant.—</span> -<span class="i0">But would not Sybil to the matron cling,</span> -<span class="i0">And fear to leave the shelter of her wing?</span> -<span class="i0">No! in the young there lives a love of change, <span class="linenum">190</span></span> -<span class="i0">And to the easy they prefer the strange!</span> -<span class="i0">Then too the joys she once pursued with zeal,</span> -<span class="i0">From whist and visits sprung, she ceased to feel;</span> -<span class="i0">When with the matrons Sybil first sat down,</span> -<span class="i0">To cut for partners and to stake her crown,</span> -<span class="i0">This to the youthful maid preferment seem’d,</span> -<span class="i0">Who thought [that] woman she was then esteem’d;</span> -<span class="i0">But in few years, when she perceived, indeed,</span> -<span class="i0">The real woman to the girl succeed,</span> -<span class="i0">No longer tricks and honours fill’d her mind, <span class="linenum">200</span></span> -<span class="i0">But other feelings, not so well defined.</span> -<span class="i0">She then reluctant grew, and thought it hard,</span> -<span class="i0">To sit and ponder o’er an ugly card;</span> -<span class="i0">Rather the nut-tree shade the nymph preferr’d,</span> -<span class="i0">Pleased with the pensive gloom and evening bird;</span> -<span class="i0">Thither, from company retired, she took</span> -<span class="i0">The silent walk, or read the fav’rite book.</span> -<span class="i2">The father’s letter, sudden, short, and kind,</span> -<span class="i0">Awaked her wonder, and disturb’d her mind;</span> -<span class="i0">She found new dreams upon her fancy seize, <span class="linenum">210</span></span> -<span class="i0">Wild roving thoughts and endless reveries.</span> -<span class="i0">The parting came;—and, when the aunt perceived</span> -<span class="i0">The tears of Sybil, and how much she grieved,</span> -<span class="i0">To love for her that tender grief she laid,</span> -<span class="i0">That various, soft, contending passions made.</span> -<span class="i2">When Sybil rested in her father’s arms,</span> -<span class="i0">His pride exulted in a daughter’s charms;</span> -<span class="i0">A maid accomplish’d he was pleased to find,</span> -<span class="i0">Nor seem’d the form more lovely than the mind.</span> -<span class="i0">But when the fit of pride and fondness fled, <span class="linenum">220</span></span> -<span class="i0">He saw his judgment by his hopes misled;</span> -<span class="i0">High were the lady’s spirits, far more free</span> -<span class="i0">Her mode of speaking than a maid’s should be;</span> -<span class="i0">Too much, as Jonas thought, she seem’d to know,</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span> -<span class="i0">And all her knowledge was disposed to show:</span> -<span class="i0">“Too gay her dress, like theirs who idly dote</span> -<span class="i0">On a young coxcomb, or a coxcomb’s coat;</span> -<span class="i0">In foolish spirits when our friends appear,</span> -<span class="i0">And vainly grave when not a man is near.”</span> -<span class="i2">Thus Jonas, adding to his sorrow blame, <span class="linenum">230</span></span> -<span class="i0">And terms disdainful to his sister’s name:—</span> -<span class="i0">“The sinful wretch has by her arts defiled</span> -<span class="i0">The ductile spirit of my darling child.”</span> -<span class="i2">“The maid is virtuous,” said the dame.—Quoth he,</span> -<span class="i0">“Let her give proof, by acting virtuously:</span> -<span class="i0">Is it in gaping when the elders pray?</span> -<span class="i0">In reading nonsense half a summer’s day?</span> -<span class="i0">In those mock forms that she delights to trace,</span> -<span class="i0">Or her loud laughs in Hezekiah’s face?</span> -<span class="i0">She—O Susannah!—to the world belongs;<span class="ws17">}</span><span class="linenum">240</span></span> -<span class="i0">She loves the follies of its idle throngs,<span class="ws20">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">And reads soft tales of love, and sings love’s soft’ning songs. }</span> -<span class="i0">But, as our friend is yet delay’d in town,</span> -<span class="i0">We must prepare her till the youth comes down;</span> -<span class="i0">You shall advise the maiden; I will threat;</span> -<span class="i0">Her fears and hopes may yield us comfort yet.”</span> -<span class="i2">Now the grave father took the lass aside,</span> -<span class="i0">Demanding sternly, “Wilt thou be a bride?”</span> -<span class="i0">She answer’d, calling up an air sedate,</span> -<span class="i0">“I have not vow’d against the holy state.” <span class="linenum">250</span></span> -<span class="i2">“No folly, Sybil,” said the parent; “know</span> -<span class="i0">What to their parents virtuous maidens owe:</span> -<span class="i0">A worthy, wealthy youth, whom I approve,</span> -<span class="i0">Must thou prepare to honour and to love.</span> -<span class="i0">Formal to thee his air and dress may seem,</span> -<span class="i0">But the good youth is worthy of esteem;</span> -<span class="i0">Shouldst thou with rudeness treat him, of disdain</span> -<span class="i0">Should he with justice or of slight complain,</span> -<span class="i0">Or of one taunting speech give certain proof:</span> -<span class="i0">Girl! I reject thee from my sober roof.” <span class="linenum">260</span></span> -<span class="i2">“My aunt,” said Sybil, “will with pride protect</span> -<span class="i0">One whom a father can for this reject;</span> -<span class="i0">Nor shall a formal, rigid, soul-less boy</span> -<span class="i0">My manners alter, or my views destroy!”</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span> -<span class="i2">Jonas [then] lifted up his hands on high,<span class="ws8">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">And, utt’ring something ’twixt a groan and sigh,<span class="ws3">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Left the determined maid her doubtful mother by. }</span> -<span class="i2">“Hear me,” she said; “incline thy heart, my child,</span> -<span class="i0">And fix thy fancy on a man so mild;</span> -<span class="i0">Thy father, Sybil, never could be moved <span class="linenum">270</span></span> -<span class="i0">By one who loved him, or by one he loved.</span> -<span class="i0">Union like ours is but a bargain made</span> -<span class="i0">By slave and tyrant—he will be obey’d,</span> -<span class="i0">Then calls the quiet comfort;—but thy youth</span> -<span class="i0">Is mild by nature, and as frank as truth.”</span> -<span class="i2">“But will he love?” said Sybil; “I am told</span> -<span class="i0">That these mild creatures are by nature cold.”</span> -<span class="i2">“Alas!” the matron answer’d, “much I dread</span> -<span class="i0">That dangerous love by which the young are led!</span> -<span class="i0">That love is earthy; you the creature prize, <span class="linenum">280</span></span> -<span class="i0">And trust your feelings and believe your eyes:</span> -<span class="i0">Can eyes and feelings inward worth descry?</span> -<span class="i0">No! my fair daughter, on our choice rely!</span> -<span class="i0">Your love, like that display’d upon the stage,</span> -<span class="i0">Indulged is folly, and opposed is rage;—</span> -<span class="i0">More prudent love our sober couples show,</span> -<span class="i0">All that to mortal beings mortals owe.</span> -<span class="i0">All flesh is grass—before you give a heart,</span> -<span class="i0">Remember, Sybil, that in death you part;</span> -<span class="i0">And, should your husband die before your love, <span class="linenum">290</span></span> -<span class="i0">What needless anguish must a widow prove!</span> -<span class="i0">No! my fair child, let all such visions cease;</span> -<span class="i0">Yield but esteem, and only try for peace.”</span> -<span class="i2">“I must be loved,” said Sybil; “I must see</span> -<span class="i0">The man in terrors who aspires to me;</span> -<span class="i0">At my forbidding frown his heart must ache,</span> -<span class="i0">His tongue must falter, and his frame must shake;</span> -<span class="i0">And, if I grant him at my feet to kneel,</span> -<span class="i0">What trembling, fearful pleasure must he feel;</span> -<span class="i0">Nay, such the raptures that my smiles inspire, <span class="linenum">300</span></span> -<span class="i0">That reason’s self must for a time retire.”</span> -<span class="i2">“Alas! for good Josiah,” said the dame,</span> -<span class="i0">“These wicked thoughts would fill his soul with shame.</span> -<span class="i0">He kneel and tremble at a thing of dust!</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span> -<span class="i0">He cannot, child.”—The child replied, “He must.”</span> -<span class="i2">They ceased; the matron left her with a frown;</span> -<span class="i0">So Jonas met her when the youth came down.</span> -<span class="i0">“Behold,” said he, “thy future spouse attends;</span> -<span class="i0">Receive him, daughter, as the best of friends;</span> -<span class="i0">Observe, respect him—humble be each word, <span class="linenum">310</span></span> -<span class="i0">That welcomes home thy husband and thy lord.”</span> -<span class="i2">Forewarn’d, thought Sybil, with a bitter smile,</span> -<span class="i0">I shall prepare my manner and my style.</span> -<span class="i2">Ere yet Josiah enter’d on his task,</span> -<span class="i0">The father met him:—“Deign to wear a mask</span> -<span class="i0">A few dull days, Josiah—but a few—</span> -<span class="i0">It is our duty, and the sex’s due;</span> -<span class="i0">I wore it once, and every grateful wife</span> -<span class="i0">Repays it with obedience through her life:</span> -<span class="i0">Have no regard to Sybil’s dress, have none<span class="ws11">}</span><span class="linenum">320</span></span> -<span class="i0">To her pert language, to her flippant tone:<span class="ws12">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Henceforward thou shalt rule unquestion’d and alone;  }</span> -<span class="i0">And she thy pleasure in thy looks shall seek—</span> -<span class="i0">How she shall dress, and whether she may speak.”</span> -<span class="i2">A sober smile return’d the youth, and said,</span> -<span class="i0">“Can I cause fear, who am myself afraid?”</span> -<span class="i2">Sybil, meantime, sat thoughtful in her room,</span> -<span class="i0">And often wonder’d—“Will the creature come?</span> -<span class="i0">Nothing shall tempt, shall force me to bestow</span> -<span class="i0">My hand upon him—yet I wish to know.” <span class="linenum">330</span></span> -<span class="i2">The door unclosed, and she beheld her sire</span> -<span class="i0">Lead in the youth, then hasten to retire.</span> -<span class="i0">“Daughter, my friend—my daughter, friend,” he cried,</span> -<span class="i0">And gave a meaning look, and stepp’d aside;</span> -<span class="i0">That look contain’d a mingled threat and prayer,</span> -<span class="i0">“Do take him, child—offend him, if you dare.”</span> -<span class="i2">The couple gazed—were silent; and the maid</span> -<span class="i0">Look’d in his face, to make the man afraid;</span> -<span class="i0">The man, unmoved, upon the maiden cast</span> -<span class="i0">A steady view—so salutation pass’d; <span class="linenum">340</span></span> -<span class="i0">But in this instant Sybil’s eye had seen</span> -<span class="i0">The tall fair person, and the still staid mien;</span> -<span class="i0">The glow that temp’rance o’er the cheek had spread,</span> -<span class="i0">Where the soft down half veil’d the purest red;</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span> -<span class="i0">And the serene deportment that proclaim’d</span> -<span class="i0">A heart unspotted, and a life unblamed.</span> -<span class="i0">But then with these she saw attire too plain,</span> -<span class="i0">The pale brown coat, though worn without a stain;</span> -<span class="i0">The formal air, and something of the pride</span> -<span class="i0">That indicates the wealth it seems to hide; <span class="linenum">350</span></span> -<span class="i0">And looks that were not, she conceived, exempt</span> -<span class="i0">From a proud pity, or a sly contempt.</span> -<span class="i2">Josiah’s eyes had their employment too,</span> -<span class="i0">Engaged and soften’d by so bright a view:</span> -<span class="i0">A fair and meaning face, an eye of fire,</span> -<span class="i0">That check’d the bold, and made the free retire.</span> -<span class="i0">But then with these he mark’d the studied dress</span> -<span class="i0">And lofty air, that scorn or pride express;</span> -<span class="i0">With that insidious look, that seem’d to hide</span> -<span class="i0">In an affected smile the scorn and pride; <span class="linenum">360</span></span> -<span class="i0">And if his mind the virgin’s meaning caught, <span class="ws6">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">He saw a foe with treacherous purpose fraught—<span class="ws3">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Captive the heart to take, and to reject it caught.  }</span> -<span class="i2">Silent they sate—thought Sybil, that he seeks</span> -<span class="i0">Something, no doubt; I wonder if he speaks.</span> -<span class="i0">Scarcely she wonder’d, when these accents fell</span> -<span class="i0">Slow in her ear—“Fair maiden, art thou well?”—</span> -<span class="i0">“Art thou physician?” she replied; “my hand,</span> -<span class="i0">My pulse, at least, shall be at thy command.”</span> -<span class="i2">She said—and saw, surprised, Josiah kneel, <span class="linenum">370</span></span> -<span class="i0">And gave his lips the offer’d pulse to feel;</span> -<span class="i0">The rosy colour rising in her cheek</span> -<span class="i0">Seem’d that surprise, unmix’d with wrath, to speak;</span> -<span class="i0">Then sternness she assumed, and—“Doctor, tell,</span> -<span class="i0">Thy words cannot alarm me—am I well?”</span> -<span class="i2">“Thou art,” said he; “and yet thy dress so light,</span> -<span class="i0">I do conceive, some danger must excite.”</span> -<span class="i0">“In whom?” said Sybil, with a look demure;</span> -<span class="i0">“In more,” said he, “than I expect to cure.</span> -<span class="i0">I, in thy light luxuriant robe, behold<span class="ws16">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Want and excess, abounding and yet cold:<span class="ws11">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Here needed, there display’d, in many a wanton fold; }</span> -<span class="i0">Both health and beauty, learned authors show,</span> -<span class="i0">From a just medium in our clothing flow.”</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span> -<span class="i2">“Proceed, good doctor; if so great my need,</span> -<span class="i0">What is thy fee? Good doctor! pray proceed.”</span> -<span class="i2">“Large is my fee, fair lady, but I take</span> -<span class="i0">None till some progress in my cure I make.</span> -<span class="i0">Thou hast disease, fair maiden; thou art vain;</span> -<span class="i0">Within that face sit insult and disdain; <span class="linenum">390</span></span> -<span class="i0">Thou art enamour’d of thyself; my art</span> -<span class="i0">Can see the naughty malice of thy heart;</span> -<span class="i0">With a strong pleasure would thy bosom move,</span> -<span class="i0">Were I to own thy power, and ask thy love;</span> -<span class="i0">And such thy beauty, damsel, that I might,<span class="ws12">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">But for thy pride, feel danger in thy sight,<span class="ws13">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">And lose my present peace in dreams of vain delight.”  }</span> -<span class="i2">“And can thy patients,” said the nymph, “endure</span> -<span class="i0">Physic like this? and will it work a cure?”</span> -<span class="i2">“Such is my hope, fair damsel; thou, I find, <span class="linenum">400</span></span> -<span class="i0">Hast the true tokens of a noble mind;</span> -<span class="i0">But the world wins thee, Sybil, and thy joys</span> -<span class="i0">Are placed in trifles, fashions, follies, toys;</span> -<span class="i0">Thou hast sought pleasure in the world around,</span> -<span class="i0">That in thine own pure bosom should be found.</span> -<span class="i0">Did all that world admire thee, praise and love,</span> -<span class="i0">Could it the least of nature’s pains remove?</span> -<span class="i0">Could it for errors, follies, sins atone,</span> -<span class="i0">Or give thee comfort, thoughtful and alone?</span> -<span class="i0">It has, believe me, maid, no power to charm <span class="linenum">410</span></span> -<span class="i0">Thy soul from sorrow, or thy flesh from harm:</span> -<span class="i0">Turn then, fair creature, from a world of sin,</span> -<span class="i0">And seek the jewel happiness within.”</span> -<span class="i2">“Speak’st thou at meeting?” said the nymph; “thy speech</span> -<span class="i0">Is that of mortal very prone to teach;</span> -<span class="i0">But wouldst thou, doctor, from the patient learn</span> -<span class="i0">Thine own disease?—The cure is thy concern.”</span> -<span class="i2">“Yea, with good will.”—“Then know, ’tis thy complaint,</span> -<span class="i0">That, for a sinner, thou’rt too much a saint;</span> -<span class="i0">Hast too much show of the sedate and pure, <span class="linenum">420</span></span> -<span class="i0">And without cause art formal and demure:</span> -<span class="i0">This makes a man unsocial, unpolite;</span> -<span class="i0">Odious when wrong, and insolent if right.</span> -<span class="i0">Thou may’st be good, but why should goodness be</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span> -<span class="i0">Wrapt in a garb of such formality?</span> -<span class="i0">Thy person well might please a damsel’s eye,</span> -<span class="i0">In decent habit with a scarlet dye;</span> -<span class="i0">But, jest apart—what virtue canst thou trace</span> -<span class="i0">In that broad brim that hides thy sober face?</span> -<span class="i0">Does that long-skirted drab, that over-nice <span class="linenum">430</span></span> -<span class="i0">And formal clothing, prove a scorn of vice?</span> -<span class="i0">Then for thine accent—what in sound can be</span> -<span class="i0">So void of grace as dull monotony?</span> -<span class="i0">Love has a thousand varied notes to move</span> -<span class="i0">The human heart—thou may’st not speak of love</span> -<span class="i0">Till thou hast cast thy formal ways aside,</span> -<span class="i0">And those becoming youth and nature tried;</span> -<span class="i0">Not till exterior freedom, spirit, ease,</span> -<span class="i0">Prove it thy study and delight to please;</span> -<span class="i0">Not till these follies meet thy just disdain, <span class="linenum">440</span></span> -<span class="i0">While yet thy virtues and thy worth remain.”</span> -<span class="i2">“This is severe!—Oh! maiden, wilt not thou</span> -<span class="i0">Something for habits, manners, modes, allow?”—</span> -<span class="i0">“Yes! but allowing much, I much require,</span> -<span class="i0">In my behalf, for manners, modes, attire!”</span> -<span class="i2">“True, lovely Sybil; and, this point agreed,</span> -<span class="i0">Let me to those of greater weight proceed:</span> -<span class="i0">Thy father”—“Nay,” she quickly interposed,</span> -<span class="i0">“Good doctor, here our conference is closed!”</span> -<span class="i2">Then left the youth, who, lost in his retreat, <span class="linenum">450</span></span> -<span class="i0">Pass’d the good matron on her garden-seat;</span> -<span class="i0">His looks were troubled, and his air, once mild</span> -<span class="i0">And calm, was hurried:—“My audacious child!”</span> -<span class="i0">Exclaim’d the dame, “I read what she has done</span> -<span class="i0">In thy displeasure—Ah! the thoughtless one;</span> -<span class="i0">But yet, Josiah, to my stern good man</span> -<span class="i0">Speak of the maid as mildly as you can.</span> -<span class="i0">Can you not seem to woo a little while</span> -<span class="i0">The daughter’s will, the father to beguile,</span> -<span class="i0">So that his wrath in time may wear away? <span class="linenum">460</span></span> -<span class="i0">Will you preserve our peace, Josiah? say!”</span> -<span class="i2">“Yes! my good neighbour,” said the gentle youth,</span> -<span class="i0">“Rely securely on my care and truth;</span> -<span class="i0">And, should thy comfort with my efforts cease,</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span> -<span class="i0">And only then—perpetual is thy peace.”</span> -<span class="i2">The dame had doubts: she well his virtues knew,</span> -<span class="i0">His deeds were friendly, and his words were true;</span> -<span class="i0">“But to address this vixen is a task</span> -<span class="i0">He is ashamed to take, and I to ask.”</span> -<span class="i0">Soon as the father from Josiah learn’d <span class="linenum">470</span></span> -<span class="i0">What pass’d with Sybil, he the truth discern’d.</span> -<span class="i0">“He loves,” the man exclaim’d, “he loves, ’tis plain,</span> -<span class="i0">The thoughtless girl, and shall he love in vain?</span> -<span class="i0">She may be stubborn, but she shall be tried,</span> -<span class="i0">Born as she is of wilfulness and pride.”</span> -<span class="i2">With anger fraught, but willing to persuade,</span> -<span class="i0">The wrathful father met the smiling maid.</span> -<span class="i0">“Sybil,” said he, “I long, and yet I dread</span> -<span class="i0">To know thy conduct—hath Josiah fled,</span> -<span class="i0">And, grieved and fretted by thy scornful air, <span class="linenum">480</span></span> -<span class="i0">For his lost peace betaken him to prayer?</span> -<span class="i0">Couldst thou his pure and modest mind distress,<span class="ws3">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">By vile remarks upon his speech, address,<span class="ws8">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Attire, and voice?”—“All this I must confess.”— }</span> -<span class="i0">“Unhappy child! what labour will it cost</span> -<span class="i0">To win him back!”—“I do not think him lost.”</span> -<span class="i0">“Courts he then, trifler, insult and disdain?”—</span> -<span class="i0">“No: but from these he courts me to refrain.”—</span> -<span class="i0">“Then hear me, Sybil: should Josiah leave</span> -<span class="i0">Thy father’s house?”—“My father’s child would grieve.”—</span> -<span class="i0">“That is of grace; and if he come again <span class="linenum">491</span></span> -<span class="i0">To speak of love?”—“I might from grief refrain.”—</span> -<span class="i0">“Then wilt thou, daughter, our design embrace?”—</span> -<span class="i0">“Can I resist it, if it be of grace?”—</span> -<span class="i0">“Dear child! in three plain words thy mind express—</span> -<span class="i0">Wilt thou have this good youth?”—“Dear father! yes.”</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span> -</div></div> - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> -<h3>TALE VII.</h3> -<p class="f110"><i>THE WIDOW’S TALE.</i></p> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poem2"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Ah me! for aught that I could ever read,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">[Could] ever hear by tale or history,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The course of true love never did run smooth;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But, either it was different in blood, [...]<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Or else misgrafted in respect of years, [...]<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Or else it stood upon the choice of friends, [...]<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Or if there were a sympathy in choice,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">War, death, or sickness did lay siege to it.<br /></span> -<span class="i11"><i>Midsummer Night’s Dream</i>, Act I. Scene 1.<br /><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Oh! thou didst then ne’er love so heartily,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">If thou rememberest not the slightest folly<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That ever love did make thee run into ...<br /></span> -<span class="i21"><i>As You Like It</i>, Act II. Scene 4.<br /><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Cry the man mercy; love him; take his offer.<br /></span> -<span class="i20"><i>As You Like It</i>, Act III. Scene 5.</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="f120 break space-above2"><b>TALE VII.</b></p> -<p class="f110"><i>THE WIDOW’S TALE.</i></p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">To farmer Moss, in Langar Vale, came down</span> -<span class="i0">His only daughter, from her school in town;</span> -<span class="i0">A tender, timid maid! who knew not how</span> -<span class="i0">To pass a pig-sty, or to face a cow:</span> -<span class="i0">Smiling she came, with petty talents graced,</span> -<span class="i0">A fair complexion, and a slender waist.</span> -<span class="i2">Used to spare meals, disposed in manner pure,</span> -<span class="i0">Her father’s kitchen she could ill endure;</span> -<span class="i0">Where by the steaming beef he hungry sat,</span> -<span class="i0">And laid at once a pound upon his plate; <span class="linenum">10</span></span> -<span class="i0">Hot from the field, her eager brother seized</span> -<span class="i0">An equal part, and hunger’s rage appeased;</span> -<span class="i0">The air, surcharged with moisture, flagg’d around,</span> -<span class="i0">And the offended damsel sigh’d and frown’d;</span> -<span class="i0">The swelling fat in lumps conglomerate laid,</span> -<span class="i0">And fancy’s sickness seized the loathing maid.</span> -<span class="i0">But, when the men beside their station took,</span> -<span class="i0">The maidens with them, and with these the cook;</span> -<span class="i0">When one huge wooden bowl before them stood,</span> -<span class="i0">Fill’d with huge balls of farinaceous food; <span class="linenum">20</span></span> -<span class="i0">With bacon, mass saline, where never lean</span> -<span class="i0">Beneath the brown and bristly rind was seen;</span> -<span class="i0">When from a single horn the party drew</span> -<span class="i0">Their copious draughts of heavy ale and new;</span> -<span class="i0">When the coarse cloth she saw, with many a stain,</span> -<span class="i0">Soil’d by rude hinds who cut and came again—</span> -<span class="i0">She could not breathe; but, with a heavy sigh,</span> -<span class="i0">Rein’d the fair neck, and shut th’ offended eye;</span> -<span class="i0">She minced the sanguine flesh in frustums fine,</span> -<span class="i0">And wonder’d much to see the creatures dine: <span class="linenum">30</span></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span> -<span class="i0">When she resolved her father’s heart to move,</span> -<span class="i0">If hearts of farmers were alive to love.</span> -<span class="i2">She now entreated by herself to sit</span> -<span class="i0">In the small parlour, if papa thought fit,</span> -<span class="i0">And there to dine, to read, to work alone.—</span> -<span class="i0">“No!” said the farmer, in an angry tone;</span> -<span class="i0">“These are your school-taught airs; your mother’s pride</span> -<span class="i0">Would send you there; but I am now your guide.—</span> -<span class="i0">Arise betimes, our early meal prepare,</span> -<span class="i0">And, this despatch’d, let business be your care; <span class="linenum">40</span></span> -<span class="i0">Look to the lasses, let there not be one</span> -<span class="i0">Who lacks attention, till her tasks be done;</span> -<span class="i0">In every household work your portion take,</span> -<span class="i0">And what you make not, see that others make.</span> -<span class="i0">At leisure times attend the wheel, and see</span> -<span class="i0">The whit’ning web be sprinkled on the [lea];</span> -<span class="i0">When thus employ’d, should our young neighbour view</span> -<span class="i0">An useful lass, you may have more to do.”</span> -<span class="i2">Dreadful were these commands; but worse than these</span> -<span class="i0">The parting hint—a farmer could not please: <span class="linenum">50</span></span> -<span class="i0">’Tis true she had without abhorrence seen</span> -<span class="i0">Young Harry Carr, when he was smart and clean;</span> -<span class="i0">But to be married—be a farmer’s wife—</span> -<span class="i0">A slave! a drudge!—she could not, for her life.</span> -<span class="i2">With swimming eyes the fretful nymph withdrew,</span> -<span class="i0">And, deeply sighing, to her chamber flew;</span> -<span class="i0">There on her knees, to Heav’n she grieving pray’d</span> -<span class="i0">For change of prospect to a tortured maid.</span> -<span class="i2">Harry, a youth whose late-departed sire</span> -<span class="i0">Had left him all industrious men require, <span class="linenum">60</span></span> -<span class="i0">Saw the pale beauty—and her shape and air</span> -<span class="i0">Engaged him much, and yet he must forbear:</span> -<span class="i0">“For my small farm what can the damsel do?”</span> -<span class="i0">He said—then stopp’d to take another view:</span> -<span class="i0">“Pity so sweet a lass will nothing learn</span> -<span class="i0">Of household cares—for what can beauty earn</span> -<span class="i0">By those small arts which they at school attain,</span> -<span class="i0">That keep them useless, and yet make them vain?”</span> -<span class="i2">This luckless damsel look’d the village round,</span> -<span class="i0">To find a friend, and one was quickly found; <span class="linenum">70</span></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span> -<span class="i0">A pensive widow—whose mild air and dress<span class="ws10">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Pleased the sad nymph, who wish’d her soul’s distress  }</span> -<span class="i0">To one so seeming kind, confiding, to confess.— <span class="ws6">}</span></span> -<span class="i2">“What lady that?” the anxious lass inquired,</span> -<span class="i0">Who then beheld the one she most admired.</span> -<span class="i0">“Here,” said the brother, “are no ladies seen—</span> -<span class="i0">That is a widow dwelling on the green;</span> -<span class="i0">A dainty dame, who can but barely live</span> -<span class="i0">On her poor pittance, yet contrives to give;</span> -<span class="i0">She happier days has known, but seems at ease, <span class="linenum">80</span></span> -<span class="i0">And you may call her lady, if you please.</span> -<span class="i0">But if you wish, good sister, to improve,</span> -<span class="i0">You shall see twenty better worth your love.”</span> -<span class="i2">These Nancy met; but, spite of all they taught,</span> -<span class="i0">This useless widow was the one she sought.</span> -<span class="i0">The father growl’d; but said he knew no harm</span> -<span class="i0">In such connexion that could give alarm;</span> -<span class="i0">“And if we thwart the trifler in her course,</span> -<span class="i0">’Tis odds against us she will take a worse.”</span> -<span class="i2">Then met the friends; the widow heard the sigh <span class="linenum">90</span></span> -<span class="i0">That ask’d at once compassion and reply:—</span> -<span class="i0">“Would you, my child, converse with one so poor,</span> -<span class="i0">Yours were the kindness—yonder is my door;</span> -<span class="i0">And, save the time that we in public pray,</span> -<span class="i0">From that poor cottage I but rarely stray.”</span> -<span class="i2">There went the nymph, and made her strong complaints,</span> -<span class="i0">Painting her wo as injured feeling paints.</span> -<span class="i2">“Oh, dearest friend! do think how one must feel,</span> -<span class="i0">Shock’d all day long, and sicken’d every meal;</span> -<span class="i0">Could you behold our kitchen (and to you <span class="linenum">100</span></span> -<span class="i0">A scene so shocking must indeed be new),</span> -<span class="i0">A mind like yours, with true refinement graced,</span> -<span class="i0">Would let no vulgar scenes pollute your taste;</span> -<span class="i0">And yet, in truth, from such a polish’d mind</span> -<span class="i0">All base ideas must resistance find,</span> -<span class="i0">And sordid pictures from the fancy pass,</span> -<span class="i0">As the breath startles from the polish’d glass.</span> -<span class="i2">“Here you enjoy a sweet romantic scene,</span> -<span class="i0">Without so pleasant, and within so clean;</span> -<span class="i0">These twining jess’mines, what delicious gloom <span class="linenum">110</span> -</span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span> -<span class="i0">And soothing fragrance yield they to the room!</span> -<span class="i0">What lovely garden! there you oft retire,</span> -<span class="i0">And tales of wo and tenderness admire:</span> -<span class="i0">In that neat case, your books, in order placed,</span> -<span class="i0">Soothe the full soul, and charm the cultured taste;</span> -<span class="i0">And thus, while all about you wears a charm,</span> -<span class="i0">How must you scorn the farmer and the farm!”</span> -<span class="i2">The widow smiled, and “Know you not,” said she, }</span> -<span class="i0">“How much these farmers scorn or pity me; <span class="ws9">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Who see what you admire, and laugh at all they see?  }<span class="linenum">120</span></span> -<span class="i0">True, their opinion alters not my fate,</span> -<span class="i0">By falsely judging of an humble state:</span> -<span class="i0">This garden, you with such delight behold,</span> -<span class="i0">Tempts not a feeble dame who dreads the cold;</span> -<span class="i0">These plants, which please so well your livelier sense,</span> -<span class="i0">To mine but little of their sweets dispense;</span> -<span class="i0">Books soon are painful to my failing sight,</span> -<span class="i0">And oftener read from duty than delight;</span> -<span class="i0">(Yet let me own, that I can sometimes find</span> -<span class="i0">Both joy and duty in the act combined;) <span class="linenum">130</span></span> -<span class="i0">But view me rightly, you will see no more</span> -<span class="i0">Than a poor female, willing to be poor;</span> -<span class="i0">Happy indeed, but not in books nor flowers,</span> -<span class="i0">Not in fair dreams, indulged in earlier hours,</span> -<span class="i0">Of never-tasted joys—such visions shun,</span> -<span class="i0">My youthful friend, nor scorn the farmer’s son.”</span> -<span class="i2">“Nay,” said the damsel, nothing pleased to see</span> -<span class="i0">A friend’s advice could like a father’s be;</span> -<span class="i0">“Bless’d in your cottage, you must surely smile</span> -<span class="i0">At those who live in our detested style. <span class="linenum">140</span></span> -<span class="i0">To my Lucinda’s sympathizing heart</span> -<span class="i0">Could I my prospects and my griefs impart,</span> -<span class="i0">She would console me; but I dare not show</span> -<span class="i0">Ills that would wound her tender soul to know:</span> -<span class="i0">And I confess, it shocks my pride to tell</span> -<span class="i0">The secrets of the prison where I dwell;</span> -<span class="i0">For that dear maiden would be shock’d to feel</span> -<span class="i0">The secrets I should shudder to reveal;</span> -<span class="i0">When told her friend was by a parent ask’d,</span> -<span class="i0">‘Fed you the swine?’—Good heav’n! how I am task’d! <span class="linenum">150</span></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span> -<span class="i0">What! can you smile? Ah! smile not at the grief</span> -<span class="i0">That woos your pity and demands relief.”</span> -<span class="i2">“Trifles, my love; you take a false alarm;</span> -<span class="i0">Think, I beseech you, better of the farm:</span> -<span class="i0">Duties in every state demand your care,</span> -<span class="i0">And light are those that will require it there:</span> -<span class="i0">Fix on the youth a favouring eye, and these,</span> -<span class="i0">To him pertaining, or as his, will please.”</span> -<span class="i2">“What words,” the lass replied, “offend my ear!</span> -<span class="i0">Try you my patience? Can you be sincere? <span class="linenum">160</span></span> -<span class="i0">And am I told a willing hand to give</span> -<span class="i0">To a rude farmer, and with rustic live?</span> -<span class="i0">Far other fate was yours—some gentle youth</span> -<span class="i0">Admired your beauty, and avow’d his truth;</span> -<span class="i0">The power of love prevail’d, and freely both</span> -<span class="i0">Gave the fond heart, and pledged the binding oath;</span> -<span class="i0">And then the rivals’ plot, the parent’s power,</span> -<span class="i0">And jealous fears, drew on the happy hour:</span> -<span class="i0">Ah! let not memory lose the blissful view,</span> -<span class="i0">But fairly show what love has done for you.” <span class="linenum">170</span></span> -<span class="i2">“Agreed, my daughter; what my heart has known</span> -<span class="i0">Of love’s strange power shall be with frankness shown:</span> -<span class="i0">But let me warn you, that experience finds</span> -<span class="i0">Few of the scenes that lively hope designs.”—</span> -<span class="i2">“Mysterious all,” said Nancy; “you, I know,</span> -<span class="i0">Have suffer’d much; now deign the grief to show—</span> -<span class="i0">I am your friend, and so prepare my heart</span> -<span class="i0">In all your sorrows to receive a part.”</span> -<span class="i2">The widow answer’d: “I had once, like you,</span> -<span class="i0">Such thoughts of love; no dream is more untrue. <span class="linenum">180</span></span> -<span class="i0">You judge it fated and decreed to dwell<span class="ws9">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">In youthful hearts, which nothing can expel, <span class="ws5">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">A passion doom’d to reign, and irresistible.<span class="ws6">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">The struggling mind, when once subdued, in vain</span> -<span class="i0">Rejects the fury or defies the pain;</span> -<span class="i0">The strongest reason fails the flame t’ allay,</span> -<span class="i0">And resolution droops and faints away:</span> -<span class="i0">Hence, when the destined lovers meet, they prove</span> -<span class="i0">At once the force of this all-powerful love;</span> -<span class="i0">Each from that period feels the mutual smart, <span class="linenum">190</span></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span> -<span class="i0">Nor seeks to cure it—heart is changed for heart;</span> -<span class="i0">Nor is there peace till they delighted stand,</span> -<span class="i0">And, at the altar, hand is join’d to hand.</span> -<span class="i2">“Alas! my child, there are who, dreaming so,</span> -<span class="i0">Waste their fresh youth, and waking feel the wo;</span> -<span class="i0">There is no spirit sent the heart to move</span> -<span class="i0">With such prevailing and alarming love;</span> -<span class="i0">Passion to reason will submit—or why</span> -<span class="i0">Should wealthy maids the poorest swains deny?</span> -<span class="i0">Or how could classes and degrees create <span class="linenum">200</span></span> -<span class="i0">The slightest bar to such resistless fate?</span> -<span class="i0">Yet high and low, you see, forbear to mix;</span> -<span class="i0">No beggars’ eyes the heart of kings transfix;</span> -<span class="i0">And who but am’rous peers or nobles sigh</span> -<span class="i0">When titled beauties pass triumphant by?</span> -<span class="i0">For reason wakes, proud wishes to reprove;</span> -<span class="i0">You cannot hope, and therefore dare not love:</span> -<span class="i0">All would be safe, did we at first inquire—</span> -<span class="i0">‘Does reason sanction what our hearts desire?’</span> -<span class="i0">But, quitting precept, let example show <span class="linenum">210</span></span> -<span class="i0">What joys from love uncheck’d by prudence flow.</span> -<span class="i2">“A youth my father in his office placed,</span> -<span class="i0">Of humble fortune, but with sense and taste;</span> -<span class="i0">But he was thin and pale, had downcast looks;</span> -<span class="i0">He studied much, and pored upon his books:</span> -<span class="i0">Confused he was when seen, and, when he saw</span> -<span class="i0">Me or my sisters, would in haste withdraw;</span> -<span class="i0">And had this youth departed with the year,</span> -<span class="i0">His loss had cost us neither sigh nor tear.</span> -<span class="i2">“But with my father still the youth remain’d, <span class="linenum">220</span></span> -<span class="i0">And more reward and kinder notice gain’d:</span> -<span class="i0">He often, reading, to the garden stray’d,</span> -<span class="i0">Where I by books or musing was delay’d;</span> -<span class="i0">This to discourse in summer evenings led,</span> -<span class="i0">Of these same evenings, or of what we read.</span> -<span class="i0">On such occasions we were much alone;</span> -<span class="i0">But, save the look, the manner, and the tone,</span> -<span class="i0">(These might have meaning,) all that we discuss’d</span> -<span class="i0">We could with pleasure to a parent trust.</span> -<span class="i2">“At length ’twas friendship—and my friend and I <span class="linenum">230</span></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span> -<span class="i0">Said we were happy, and began to sigh;</span> -<span class="i0">My sisters first, and then my father, found</span> -<span class="i0">That we were wandering o’er enchanted ground;</span> -<span class="i0">But he had troubles in his own affairs,</span> -<span class="i0">And would not bear addition to his cares.</span> -<span class="i0">With pity moved, yet angry, ‘Child,’ said he,</span> -<span class="i0">‘Will you embrace contempt and beggary?</span> -<span class="i0">Can you endure to see each other cursed</span> -<span class="i0">By want, of every human wo the worst?</span> -<span class="i0">Warring for ever with distress, in dread <span class="linenum">240</span></span> -<span class="i0">Either of begging or of wanting bread;</span> -<span class="i0">While poverty, with unrelenting force,</span> -<span class="i0">Will your own offspring from your love divorce;</span> -<span class="i0">They, through your folly, must be doom’d to pine,</span> -<span class="i0">And you deplore your passion, or resign;</span> -<span class="i0">For, if it die, what good will then remain?</span> -<span class="i0">And if it live, it doubles every pain.’”—</span> -<span class="i2">“But you were true,” exclaim’d the lass, “and fled <span class="ws10">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">The tyrant’s power who fill’d your soul with dread?”—<span class="ws8">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">“But,” said the smiling friend, “he fill’d my mouth with bread;  }<span class="linenum">250</span></span> -<span class="i0">And in what other place that bread to gain</span> -<span class="i0">We long consider’d, and we sought in vain.</span> -<span class="i0">This was my twentieth year—at thirty-five</span> -<span class="i0">Our hope was fainter, yet our love alive;</span> -<span class="i0">So many years in anxious doubt had pass’d.”—</span> -<span class="i0">“Then,” said the damsel, “you were bless’d at last?”</span> -<span class="i0">A smile again adorn’d the widow’s face,</span> -<span class="i0">But soon a starting tear usurp’d its place.—</span> -<span class="i2">“Slow pass’d the heavy years, and each had more</span> -<span class="i0">Pains and vexations than the years before. <span class="linenum">260</span></span> -<span class="i0">My father fail’d; his family was rent,</span> -<span class="i0">And to new states his grieving daughters sent;</span> -<span class="i0">Each to more thriving kindred found a way,</span> -<span class="i0">Guests without welcome—servants without pay;</span> -<span class="i0">Our parting hour was grievous; still I feel</span> -<span class="i0">The sad, sweet converse at our final meal:</span> -<span class="i0">Our father then reveal’d his former fears,</span> -<span class="i0">Cause of his sternness, and then join’d our tears;</span> -<span class="i0">Kindly he strove our feelings to repress,</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span> -<span class="i0">But died, and left us heirs to his distress. <span class="linenum">270</span></span> -<span class="i0">The rich, as humble friends, my sisters chose;</span> -<span class="i0">I with a wealthy widow sought repose;</span> -<span class="i0">Who with a chilling frown her friend received,</span> -<span class="i0">Bade me rejoice, and wonder’d that I grieved:</span> -<span class="i0">In vain my anxious lover tried his skill</span> -<span class="i0">To rise in life, he was dependent still;</span> -<span class="i0">We met in grief, nor can I paint the fears</span> -<span class="i0">Of these unhappy, troubled, trying years:</span> -<span class="i0">Our dying hopes and stronger fears between,</span> -<span class="i0">We felt no season peaceful or serene; <span class="linenum">280</span></span> -<span class="i0">Our fleeting joys, like meteors in the night,</span> -<span class="i0">Shone on our gloom with inauspicious light;</span> -<span class="i0">And then domestic sorrows, till the mind,</span> -<span class="i0">Worn with distresses, to despair inclined;</span> -<span class="i0">Add too the ill that from the passion flows,</span> -<span class="i0">When its contemptuous frown the world bestows—</span> -<span class="i0">The peevish spirit caused by long delay,</span> -<span class="i0">When being gloomy we contemn the gay,</span> -<span class="i0">When, being wretched, we incline to hate</span> -<span class="i0">And censure others in a happier state; <span class="linenum">290</span></span> -<span class="i0">Yet loving still, and still compell’d to move</span> -<span class="i0">In the sad labyrinth of ling’ring love:</span> -<span class="i0">While you, exempt from want, despair, alarm,</span> -<span class="i0">May wed—oh! take the farmer and the farm.”</span> -<span class="i2">“Nay,” said the nymph, “joy smiled on you at last!”</span> -<span class="i0">“Smiled for a moment,” she replied, “and pass’d:</span> -<span class="i0">My lover still the same dull means pursued,</span> -<span class="i0">Assistant call’d, but kept in servitude;</span> -<span class="i0">His spirits wearied in the prime of life,</span> -<span class="i0">By fears and wishes in eternal strife; <span class="linenum">300</span></span> -<span class="i0">At length he urged impatient—‘Now consent;</span> -<span class="i0">With thee united, fortune may relent.’</span> -<span class="i0">I paused, consenting; but a friend arose,</span> -<span class="i0">Pleased a fair view, though distant, to disclose;</span> -<span class="i0">From the rough ocean we beheld a gleam</span> -<span class="i0">Of joy, as transient as the joys we dream;</span> -<span class="i0">By lying hopes deceived, my friend retired,</span> -<span class="i0">And sail’d—was wounded—reach’d us—and expired!</span> -<span class="i0">You shall behold his grave, and, when I die,</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span> -<span class="i0">There—but ’tis folly—I request to lie.” <span class="linenum">310</span></span> -<span class="i2">“Thus,” said the lass, “to joy you bade adieu!</span> -<span class="i0">But how a widow?—that cannot be true;</span> -<span class="i0">Or was it force, in some unhappy hour,</span> -<span class="i0">That placed you, grieving, in a tyrant’s power?”</span> -<span class="i2">“Force, my young friend, when forty years are fled,</span> -<span class="i0">Is what a woman seldom has to dread;</span> -<span class="i0">She needs no brazen locks nor guarding walls,</span> -<span class="i0">And seldom comes a lover, though she calls.</span> -<span class="i0">Yet moved by fancy, one approved my face,</span> -<span class="i0">Though time and tears had wrought it much disgrace. <span class="linenum">320</span></span> -<span class="i2">“The man I married was sedate and meek,</span> -<span class="i0">And spoke of love as men in earnest speak;</span> -<span class="i0">Poor as I was, he ceaseless sought, for years,</span> -<span class="i0">A heart in sorrow and a face in tears;</span> -<span class="i0">That heart I gave not; and ’twas long before</span> -<span class="i0">I gave attention, and then nothing more;</span> -<span class="i0">But in my breast some grateful feeling rose</span> -<span class="i0">For one whose love so sad a subject chose;</span> -<span class="i0">Till long delaying, fearing to repent,</span> -<span class="i0">But grateful still, I gave a cold assent. <span class="linenum">330</span></span> -<span class="i2">“Thus we were wed; no fault had I to find,</span> -<span class="i0">And he but one; my heart could not be kind:</span> -<span class="i0">Alas! of every early hope bereft,</span> -<span class="i0">There was no fondness in my bosom left;</span> -<span class="i0">So had I told him, but had told in vain,</span> -<span class="i0">He lived but to indulge me and complain.</span> -<span class="i0">His was this cottage, he inclosed this ground,</span> -<span class="i0">And planted all these blooming shrubs around;</span> -<span class="i0">He to my room these curious trifles brought,</span> -<span class="i0">And with assiduous love my pleasure sought; <span class="linenum">340</span></span> -<span class="i0">He lived to please me, and I oft-times strove</span> -<span class="i0">Smiling, to thank his unrequited love;</span> -<span class="i0">‘Teach me,’ he cried, ‘that pensive mind to ease,</span> -<span class="i0">For all my pleasure is the hope to please.’</span> -<span class="i2">“Serene, though heavy, were the days we spent,</span> -<span class="i0">Yet kind each word, and gen’rous each intent;</span> -<span class="i0">But his dejection lessen’d every day,</span> -<span class="i0">And to a placid kindness died away.</span> -<span class="i0">In tranquil ease we pass’d our latter years,</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span> -<span class="i0">By griefs untroubl’d, unassail’d by fears. <span class="linenum">350</span></span> -<span class="i2">“Let not romantic views your bosom sway,</span> -<span class="i0">Yield to your duties, and their call obey:</span> -<span class="i0">Fly not a youth, frank, honest, and sincere;</span> -<span class="i0">Observe his merits, and his passion hear!</span> -<span class="i0">’Tis true, no hero, but a farmer sues—</span> -<span class="i0">Slow in his speech, but worthy in his views;</span> -<span class="i0">With him you cannot that affliction prove,</span> -<span class="i0">That rends the bosom of the poor in love;</span> -<span class="i0">Health, comfort, competence, and cheerful days,</span> -<span class="i0">Your friends’ approval, and your father’s praise, <span class="linenum">360</span></span> -<span class="i0">Will crown the deed, and you escape <i>their</i> fate</span> -<span class="i0">Who plan so wildly, and are wise too late.”</span> -<span class="i2">The damsel heard; at first th’ advice was strange,</span> -<span class="i0">Yet wrought a happy, nay, a speedy change.</span> -<span class="i0">“I have no care,” she said, when next they met,</span> -<span class="i0">“But one may wonder he is silent yet;</span> -<span class="i0">He looks around him with his usual stare,</span> -<span class="i0">And utters nothing—not that I shall care.”</span> -<span class="i2">This pettish humour pleased th’ experienced friend—</span> -<span class="i0">None need despair, whose silence can offend; <span class="linenum">370</span></span> -<span class="i0">“Should I,” resumed the thoughtful lass, “consent</span> -<span class="i0">To hear the man, the man may now repent.</span> -<span class="i0">Think you my sighs shall call him from the plough,</span> -<span class="i0">Or give one hint, that ‘You may woo me now?’”</span> -<span class="i2">“Persist, my love,” replied the friend, “and gain</span> -<span class="i0">A parent’s praise, <i>that</i> cannot be in vain.”</span> -<span class="i2">The father saw the change, but not the cause,</span> -<span class="i0">And gave the alter’d maid his fond applause.</span> -<span class="i0">The coarser manners she in part removed,</span> -<span class="i0">In part endured, improving and improved; <span class="linenum">380</span></span> -<span class="i0">She spoke of household works, she rose betimes,</span> -<span class="i0">And said neglect and indolence were crimes;</span> -<span class="i0">The various duties of their life she weigh’d,</span> -<span class="i0">And strict attention to her dairy paid;</span> -<span class="i0">The names of servants now familiar grew,</span> -<span class="i0">And fair Lucinda’s from her mind withdrew.</span> -<span class="i0">As prudent travellers for their ease assume</span> -<span class="i0"><i>Their</i> modes and language to whose lands they come:</span> -<span class="i0">So to the farmer this fair lass inclined,</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span> -<span class="i0">Gave to the business of the farm her mind; <span class="linenum">390</span></span> -<span class="i0">To useful arts she turn’d her hand and eye;</span> -<span class="i0">And by her manners told him—“You may try.”</span> -<span class="i2">Th’ observing lover more attention paid,</span> -<span class="i0">With growing pleasure, to the alter’d maid;</span> -<span class="i0">He fear’d to lose her, and began to see</span> -<span class="i0">That a slim beauty might a helpmate be;</span> -<span class="i0">’Twixt hope and fear he now the lass address’d,</span> -<span class="i0">And in his Sunday robe his love express’d.</span> -<span class="i0">She felt no chilling dread, no thrilling joy,</span> -<span class="i0">Nor was too quickly kind, too slowly coy; <span class="linenum">400</span></span> -<span class="i0">But still she lent an unreluctant ear</span> -<span class="i0">To all the rural business of the year;</span> -<span class="i0">Till love’s strong hopes endured no more delay,</span> -<span class="i0">And Harry ask’d, and Nancy named the day.</span> -<span class="i2">“A happy change! my boy,” the father cried:</span> -<span class="i0">“How lost your sister all her school-day pride?”</span> -<span class="i0">The youth replied, “It is the widow’s deed:</span> -<span class="i0">The cure is perfect, and was wrought with speed.”—</span> -<span class="i0">“And comes there, boy, this benefit of books,</span> -<span class="i0">Of that smart dress, and of those dainty looks? <span class="linenum">410</span></span> -<span class="i0">We must be kind—some offerings from the farm</span> -<span class="i0">To the white cot will speak our feelings warm;</span> -<span class="i0">Will show that people, when they know the fact,</span> -<span class="i0">Where they have judged severely, can retract.</span> -<span class="i0">Oft have I smil’d, when I beheld her pass</span> -<span class="i0">With cautious step, as if she hurt the grass;</span> -<span class="i0">Where if a snail’s retreat she chanced to storm,</span> -<span class="i0">She look’d as begging pardon of the worm;</span> -<span class="i0">And what, said I, still laughing at the view,</span> -<span class="i0">Have these weak creatures in the world to do? <span class="linenum">420</span></span> -<span class="i0">But some are made for action, some to speak;<span class="ws9">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">And, while she looks so pitiful and meek,<span class="ws12">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Her words are weighty, though her nerves are weak.”  }</span> -<span class="i2">Soon told the village-bells the rite was done,</span> -<span class="i0">That join’d the school-bred miss and farmer’s son;</span> -<span class="i0">Her former habits some slight scandal raised,</span> -<span class="i0">But real worth was soon perceived and praised;</span> -<span class="i0">She, her neat taste imparted to the farm,</span> -<span class="i0">And he, th’ improving skill and vigorous arm.</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span> -</div></div> - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> -<h3>TALE VIII.</h3> -<p class="f110"><i>THE MOTHER.</i></p> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poem2"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i6">What though you have beauty,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Must you be therefore proud and pitiless?<br /></span> -<span class="i20"><i>As You Like It</i>, Act III. Scene 5.<br /><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i2">I would not marry her, though she were endow’d with all<br /></span> -<span class="i0">that Adam had left him before he transgress’d.<br /></span> -<span class="i12"><i>Much Ado about Nothing</i>, Act II. Scene 1.<br /><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i2">Wilt thou love such a woman? What! to make thee an<br /></span> -<span class="i0">instrument, and play false strains upon thee!—Not to be endured.<br /></span> -<span class="i20"><i>As You Like It</i>, Act IV. Scene 3.<br /><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i6">Your son,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As mad in folly, lack’d the sense to know<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Her estimation [home].<br /></span> -<span class="i11"><i>All’s Well that Ends Well</i>, Act V, Scene 3.<br /><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i6">He [lost] a wife<br /></span> -<span class="i0">...whose words all ears took captive,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Whose dear perfection, hearts that scorn’d to serve<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Humbly call’d mistress....<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Be this sweet Helen’s knell.<br /></span> -<span class="i12"><i>All’s Well that Ends Well</i>, Act V. Scene 3.</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="f120 break space-above2"><b>TALE VIII.</b></p> -<p class="f110"><i>THE MOTHER.</i></p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">There was a worthy, but a simple pair,</span> -<span class="i0">Who nursed a daughter, fairest of the fair.</span> -<span class="i0">Sons they had lost, and she alone remain’d,</span> -<span class="i0">Heir to the kindness they had all obtain’d;</span> -<span class="i0">Heir to the fortune they design’d for all,</span> -<span class="i0">Nor had th’ allotted portion then been small;</span> -<span class="i0">But now, by fate enrich’d with beauty rare,</span> -<span class="i0">They watch’d their treasure with peculiar care.</span> -<span class="i0">The fairest features they could early trace,<span class="ws5">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">And, blind with love, saw merit in her face— }<span class="linenum">10</span></span> -<span class="i0">Saw virtue, wisdom, dignity, and grace; <span class="ws6">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">And Dorothea, from her infant years,</span> -<span class="i0">Gain’d all her wishes from their pride or fears;</span> -<span class="i0">She wrote a billet, and a novel read,</span> -<span class="i0">And with her fame her vanity was fed;</span> -<span class="i0">Each word, each look, each action was a cause</span> -<span class="i0">For flattering wonder, and for fond applause;</span> -<span class="i0">She rode or danced, and ever glanced around,</span> -<span class="i0">Seeking for praise, and smiling when she found.</span> -<span class="i0">The yielding pair to her petitions gave <span class="linenum">20</span></span> -<span class="i0">An humble friend to be a civil slave;</span> -<span class="i0">Who for a poor support herself resign’d</span> -<span class="i0">To the base toil of a dependent mind.</span> -<span class="i0">By nature cold, our heiress stoop’d to art,</span> -<span class="i0">To gain the credit of a tender heart;</span> -<span class="i0">Hence at her door must suppliant paupers stand,</span> -<span class="i0">To bless the bounty of her beauteous hand.</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span> -<span class="i0">And now, her education all complete,</span> -<span class="i0">She talk’d of virtuous love and union sweet;</span> -<span class="i0">She was indeed by no soft passion moved, <span class="linenum">30</span></span> -<span class="i0">But wish’d, with all her soul, to be beloved.</span> -<span class="i0">Here on the favour’d beauty fortune smiled;</span> -<span class="i0">Her chosen husband was a man so mild,</span> -<span class="i0">So humbly temper’d, so intent to please,<span class="ws10">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">It quite distress’d her to remain at ease,<span class="ws11">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Without a cause to sigh, without pretence to tease. }</span> -<span class="i0">She tried his patience in a thousand modes,</span> -<span class="i0">And tired it not upon the roughest roads.</span> -<span class="i0">Pleasure she sought, and, disappointed, sigh’d</span> -<span class="i0">For joys, she said, “to her alone denied;” <span class="linenum">40</span></span> -<span class="i0">And she was “sure her parents, if alive,</span> -<span class="i0">Would many comforts for their child contrive.”</span> -<span class="i0">The gentle husband bade her name him one;—</span> -<span class="i0">“No—that,” she answer’d, “should for her be done;</span> -<span class="i0">How could she say what pleasures were around?</span> -<span class="i0">But she was certain many might be found.”—</span> -<span class="i0">“Would she some sea-port, Weymouth, Scarborough, grace?”—</span> -<span class="i0">“He knew she hated every watering-place.”—</span> -<span class="i0">“The town?”—“What! now ’twas empty, joyless, dull?”</span> -<span class="i0">—“In winter?”—“No; she liked it worse when full.” <span class="linenum">50</span></span> -<span class="i0">She talk’d of building—“Would she plan a room?”—</span> -<span class="i0">“No! she could live, as he desired, in gloom.”—</span> -<span class="i0">“Call then our friends and neighbours?”—“He might call,  }</span> -<span class="i0">And they might come and fill his ugly hall;<span class="ws14">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">A noisy vulgar set, he knew she scorn’d them all.”—<span class="ws6">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">“Then, might their two dear girls the time employ,</span> -<span class="i0">And their improvement yield a solid joy?”—</span> -<span class="i0">“Solid indeed! and heavy—oh! the bliss</span> -<span class="i0">Of teaching letters to a lisping Miss!”—</span> -<span class="i0">“My dear, my gentle Dorothea, say, <span class="linenum">60</span></span> -<span class="i0">Can I oblige you?”—“You may go away.”</span> -<span class="i2">Twelve heavy years this patient soul sustain’d<span class="ws7">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">This wasp’s attacks, and then her praise obtain’d, <span class="ws6">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Graved on a marble tomb, where he at peace remain’d. }</span> -<span class="i2">Two daughters wept their loss: the one a child</span> -<span class="i0">With a plain face, strong sense, and temper mild,</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span> -<span class="i0">Who keenly felt the mother’s angry taunt,</span> -<span class="i0">“Thou art the image of thy pious aunt.”</span> -<span class="i0">Long time had Lucy wept her slighted face,</span> -<span class="i0">And then began to smile at her disgrace. <span class="linenum">70</span></span> -<span class="i0">Her father’s sister, who the world had seen</span> -<span class="i0">Near sixty years when Lucy saw sixteen,</span> -<span class="i0">Begg’d the plain girl: the gracious mother smiled,</span> -<span class="i0">And freely gave her grieved but passive child;</span> -<span class="i0">And with her elder-born, the [beauty-bless’d,]</span> -<span class="i0">This parent rested, if such minds can rest.</span> -<span class="i0">No miss her waxen babe could so admire,</span> -<span class="i0">Nurse with such care, or with such pride attire;</span> -<span class="i0">They were companions meet, with equal mind,</span> -<span class="i0">Bless’d with one love, and to one point inclined: <span class="linenum">80</span></span> -<span class="i0">Beauty to keep, adorn, increase, and guard,</span> -<span class="i0">Was their sole care, and had its full reward.</span> -<span class="i0">In rising splendor with the one it reign’d,<span class="ws19">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">And in the other was by care sustain’d, <span class="ws20">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">The daughter’s charms increased, the parent’s yet remain’d.— }</span> -<span class="i0">Leave we these ladies to their daily care,</span> -<span class="i0">To see how meekness and discretion fare.</span> -<span class="i0">A village maid, unvex’d by want or love,</span> -<span class="i0">Could not with more delight than Lucy move;</span> -<span class="i0">The village-lark, high mounted in the spring, <span class="linenum">90</span></span> -<span class="i0">Could not with purer joy than Lucy sing;</span> -<span class="i0">Her cares all light, her pleasures all sincere,</span> -<span class="i0">Her duty joy, and her companion dear;</span> -<span class="i0">In tender friendship and in true respect</span> -<span class="i0">Lived aunt and niece, no flattery, no neglect—</span> -<span class="i0">They read, walk’d, visited—together pray’d,</span> -<span class="i0">Together slept the matron and the maid.</span> -<span class="i0">There was such goodness, such pure nature seen</span> -<span class="i0">In Lucy’s looks, a manner so serene;</span> -<span class="i0">Such harmony in motion, speech, and air, <span class="linenum">100</span></span> -<span class="i0">That without fairness she was more than fair;</span> -<span class="i0">Had more than beauty in each speaking grace,</span> -<span class="i0">That lent their cloudless glory to the face;</span> -<span class="i0">Where mild good sense in placid looks were shown,</span> -<span class="i0">And felt in every bosom but her own.</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span> -<span class="i0">The one presiding feature in her mind,</span> -<span class="i0">Was the pure meekness of a will resign’d;</span> -<span class="i0">A tender spirit, freed from all pretence</span> -<span class="i0">Of wit, and pleased in mild benevolence;</span> -<span class="i0">Bless’d in protecting fondness she reposed, <span class="linenum">110</span></span> -<span class="i0">With every wish indulged though undisclosed;</span> -<span class="i0">But love, like zephyr on the limpid lake, <span class="ws7">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Was now the bosom of the maid to shake, <span class="ws6">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">And in that gentle mind a gentle strife to make. }</span> -<span class="i2">Among their chosen friends, a favour’d few,</span> -<span class="i0">The aunt and niece a youthful rector knew;</span> -<span class="i0">Who, though a younger brother, might address</span> -<span class="i0">A younger sister, fearless of success.</span> -<span class="i0">His friends, a lofty race, their native pride</span> -<span class="i0">At first display’d, and their assent denied; <span class="linenum">120</span></span> -<span class="i0">But, pleased such virtues and such love to trace,</span> -<span class="i0">They own’d she would adorn the loftiest race.</span> -<span class="i0">The aunt, a mother’s caution to supply,</span> -<span class="i0">Had watch’d the youthful priest with jealous eye;</span> -<span class="i0">And, anxious for her charge, had view’d unseen</span> -<span class="i0">The cautious life that keeps the conscience clean.</span> -<span class="i0">In all she found him all she wish’d to find,</span> -<span class="i0">With slight exception of a lofty mind:</span> -<span class="i0">A certain manner that express’d desire,</span> -<span class="i0">To be received as brother to the ’squire. <span class="linenum">130</span></span> -<span class="i0">Lucy’s meek eye had beam’d with many a tear,</span> -<span class="i0">Lucy’s soft heart had beat with many a fear,</span> -<span class="i0">Before he told (although his looks, she thought,</span> -<span class="i0">Had oft confess’d) that he her favour sought;</span> -<span class="i0">But when he kneel’d, (she wish’d him not to kneel,)</span> -<span class="i0">And spoke the fears and hopes that lovers feel;</span> -<span class="i0">When too the prudent aunt herself confess’d,</span> -<span class="i0">Her wishes on the gentle youth would rest;</span> -<span class="i0">The maiden’s eye with tender passion beam’d,</span> -<span class="i0">She dwelt with fondness on the life she schemed— <span class="linenum">140</span></span> -<span class="i0">The household cares, the soft and lasting ties</span> -<span class="i0">Of love, with all his binding charities;</span> -<span class="i0">Their village taught, consoled, assisted, fed,</span> -<span class="i0">Till the young zealot tears of pleasure shed.</span> -<span class="i2">But would her mother? Ah! she fear’d it wrong</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span> -<span class="i0">To have indulged these forward hopes so long;</span> -<span class="i0">Her mother loved, but was not used to grant</span> -<span class="i0">Favours so freely as her gentle aunt.—</span> -<span class="i0">Her gentle aunt, with smiles that angels wear,</span> -<span class="i0">Dispell’d her Lucy’s apprehensive tear: <span class="linenum">150</span></span> -<span class="i0">Her prudent foresight the request had made</span> -<span class="i0">To one whom none could govern, few persuade;</span> -<span class="i0">She doubted much if one in earnest woo’d</span> -<span class="i0">A girl with not a single charm endued;</span> -<span class="i0">The sister’s nobler views she then declared,</span> -<span class="i0">And what small sum for Lucy could be spared;</span> -<span class="i0">“If more than this the foolish priest requires,</span> -<span class="i0">Tell him,” she wrote, “to check his vain desires.”</span> -<span class="i0">At length, with many a cold expression mix’d,</span> -<span class="i0">With many a sneer on girls so fondly fix’d, <span class="linenum">160</span></span> -<span class="i0">There came a promise—should they not repent,<span class="ws7">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">But take with grateful minds the portion meant,<span class="ws7">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">And wait the sister’s day—the mother might consent.  }</span> -<span class="i2">And here, might pitying hope o’er truth prevail,</span> -<span class="i0">Or love o’er fortune, we would end our tale:</span> -<span class="i0">For who more bless’d than youthful pair removed</span> -<span class="i0">From fear of want—by mutual friends approved—</span> -<span class="i0">Short time to wait, and in that time to live</span> -<span class="i0">With all the pleasures hope and fancy give;</span> -<span class="i0">Their equal passion raised on just esteem, <span class="linenum">170</span></span> -<span class="i0">When reason sanctions all that love can dream?</span> -<span class="i2">Yes! reason sanctions what stern fate denies:</span> -<span class="i0">The early prospect in the glory dies,</span> -<span class="i0">As the soft smiles on dying infants play</span> -<span class="i0">In their mild features, and then pass away.</span> -<span class="i2">The beauty died, ere she could yield her hand</span> -<span class="i0">In the high marriage by the mother plann’d:</span> -<span class="i0">Who grieved indeed, but found a vast relief</span> -<span class="i0">In a cold heart, that ever warr’d with grief.</span> -<span class="i2">Lucy was present when her sister died, <span class="linenum">180</span></span> -<span class="i0">Heiress to duties that she ill supplied:</span> -<span class="i0">There were no mutual feelings, sister arts,</span> -<span class="i0">No kindred taste, nor intercourse of hearts;</span> -<span class="i0">When in the mirror play’d the matron’s smile,</span> -<span class="i0">The maiden’s thoughts were travelling all the while;</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</a></span> -<span class="i0">And, when desired to speak, she sigh’d to find</span> -<span class="i0">Her pause offended:—“Envy made her blind;</span> -<span class="i0">Tasteless she was, nor had a claim in life</span> -<span class="i0">Above the station of a rector’s wife;</span> -<span class="i0">Yet as an heiress, she must shun disgrace, <span class="linenum">190</span></span> -<span class="i0">Although no heiress to her mother’s face:</span> -<span class="i0">It is your duty,” said th’ imperious dame,<span class="ws9">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">“(Advanced your fortune) to advance your name,  }</span> -<span class="i0">And with superior rank, superior offers claim.<span class="ws5">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Your sister’s lover, when his sorrows die,</span> -<span class="i0">May look upon you, and for favour sigh;</span> -<span class="i0">Nor can you offer a reluctant hand;</span> -<span class="i0">His birth is noble, and his seat is grand.”</span> -<span class="i2">Alarm’d was Lucy, was in tears—“A fool!</span> -<span class="i0">Was she a child in love?—a miss at school? <span class="linenum">200</span></span> -<span class="i0">Doubts any mortal, if a change of state</span> -<span class="i0">Dissolves all claims and ties of earlier date?”</span> -<span class="i2">The rector doubted, for he came to mourn</span> -<span class="i0">A sister dead, and with a wife return.</span> -<span class="i0">Lucy with heart unchanged received the youth,</span> -<span class="i0">True in herself, confiding in his truth;</span> -<span class="i0">But own’d her mother’s change: the haughty dame</span> -<span class="i0">Pour’d strong contempt upon the youthful flame;</span> -<span class="i0">She firmly vow’d her purpose to pursue,</span> -<span class="i0">Judged her own cause, and bade the youth adieu! <span class="linenum">210</span></span> -<span class="i0">The lover begg’d, insisted, urged his pain;</span> -<span class="i0">His brother wrote to threaten and complain;</span> -<span class="i0">Her sister, reasoning, proved the promise made,</span> -<span class="i0">Lucy, appealing to a parent, pray’d;</span> -<span class="i0">But all opposed th’ event that she design’d,</span> -<span class="i0">And all in vain—she never changed her mind;</span> -<span class="i0">But coldly answer’d in her wonted way,</span> -<span class="i0">That she “would rule, and Lucy must obey.”</span> -<span class="i2">With peevish fear, she saw her health decline,</span> -<span class="i0">And cried, “Oh! monstrous, for a man to pine; <span class="linenum">220</span></span> -<span class="i0">But if your foolish heart must yield to love,</span> -<span class="i0">Let him possess it whom I now approve;</span> -<span class="i0">This is my pleasure.”—Still the rector came</span> -<span class="i0">With larger offers and with bolder claim;</span> -<span class="i0">But the stern lady would attend no more—</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span> -<span class="i0">She frown’d, and rudely pointed to the door;</span> -<span class="i0">Whate’er he wrote, he saw unread return’d,</span> -<span class="i0">And he, indignant, the dishonour spurn’d;</span> -<span class="i0">Nay, fix’d suspicion where he might confide,</span> -<span class="i0">And sacrificed his passion to his pride. <span class="linenum">230</span></span> -<span class="i2">Lucy, meantime, though threaten’d and distress’d,</span> -<span class="i0">Against her marriage made a strong protest.</span> -<span class="i0">All was domestic war: the aunt rebell’d</span> -<span class="i0">Against the sovereign will, and was expell’d;</span> -<span class="i0">And every power was tried and every art,</span> -<span class="i0">To bend to falsehood one determined heart;</span> -<span class="i0">Assail’d, in patience it received the shock,</span> -<span class="i0">Soft as the wave, unshaken as the rock;</span> -<span class="i0">But while th’ unconquer’d soul endures the storm</span> -<span class="i0">Of angry fate, it preys upon the form. <span class="linenum">240</span></span> -<span class="i0">With conscious virtue she resisted still,</span> -<span class="i0">And conscious love gave vigour to her will;</span> -<span class="i0">But Lucy’s trial was at hand; with joy</span> -<span class="i0">The mother cried—“Behold your constant boy—</span> -<span class="i0">Thursday—was married—take the paper, sweet,</span> -<span class="i0">And read the conduct of your reverend cheat;</span> -<span class="i0">See with what pomp of coaches, in what crowd</span> -<span class="i0">The creature married—of his falsehood proud!</span> -<span class="i0">False, did I say?—at least no whining fool;</span> -<span class="i0">And thus will hopeless passions ever cool: <span class="linenum">250</span></span> -<span class="i0">But shall his bride your single state reproach?</span> -<span class="i0">No! give him crowd for crowd, and coach for coach.</span> -<span class="i0">Oh! you retire; reflect then, gentle miss,</span> -<span class="i0">And gain some spirit in a cause like this.”</span> -<span class="i2">Some spirit Lucy gain’d; a steady soul,</span> -<span class="i0">Defying all persuasion, all control:</span> -<span class="i0">In vain reproach, derision, threats were tried;<span class="ws9">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">The constant mind all outward force defied,<span class="ws10">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">By vengeance vainly urged, in vain assail’d by pride.  }</span> -<span class="i0">Fix’d in her purpose, perfect in her part, <span class="linenum">260</span></span> -<span class="i0">She felt the courage of a wounded heart;</span> -<span class="i0">The world receded from her rising view,</span> -<span class="i0">When Heaven approach’d as earthly things withdrew;</span> -<span class="i0">Not strange before, for in the days of love,</span> -<span class="i0">Joy, hope, and pleasure, she had thoughts above;</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</a></span> -<span class="i0">Pious when most of worldly prospects fond,</span> -<span class="i0">When they best pleased her she could look beyond;</span> -<span class="i0">Had the young priest a faithful lover died,</span> -<span class="i0">Something had been her bosom to divide;</span> -<span class="i0">Now Heaven had all, for in her holiest views <span class="linenum">270</span></span> -<span class="i0">She saw the matron whom she fear’d to lose;</span> -<span class="i0">While from her parent the dejected maid</span> -<span class="i0">Forced the unpleasant thought, or thinking pray’d.</span> -<span class="i2">Surprised, the mother saw the languid frame,</span> -<span class="i0">And felt indignant, yet forbore to blame.</span> -<span class="i0">Once with a frown she cried, “And do you mean</span> -<span class="i0">To die of love—the folly of fifteen?”</span> -<span class="i0">But as her anger met with no reply,</span> -<span class="i0">She let the gentle girl in quiet die;</span> -<span class="i0">And to her sister wrote, impell’d by pain, <span class="linenum">280</span></span> -<span class="i0">“Come quickly, Martha, or you come in vain.”</span> -<span class="i0">Lucy meantime profess’d with joy sincere,</span> -<span class="i0">That nothing held, employ’d, engaged her here.—</span> -<span class="i2">“I am an humble actor, doom’d to play</span> -<span class="i0">A part obscure, and then to glide away;</span> -<span class="i0">Incurious how the great or happy shine,</span> -<span class="i0">Or who have parts obscure and sad as mine;</span> -<span class="i0">In its best prospect I but wish’d, for life,</span> -<span class="i0">To be th’ assiduous, gentle, useful wife;</span> -<span class="i0">That lost, with wearied mind, and spirit poor, <span class="linenum">290</span></span> -<span class="i0">I drop my efforts, and can act no more;</span> -<span class="i0">With growing joy I feel my spirits tend</span> -<span class="i0">To that last scene where all my duties end.”</span> -<span class="i2">Hope, ease, delight, the thoughts of dying gave,</span> -<span class="i0">Till Lucy spoke with fondness of the grave;</span> -<span class="i0">She smiled with wasted form, but spirit firm,</span> -<span class="i0">And said, she left but little for the worm.</span> -<span class="i0">As toll’d the bell, “There’s one,” she said, “hath press’d</span> -<span class="i0">Awhile before me to the bed of rest;”</span> -<span class="i0">And she beside her with attention spread <span class="linenum">300</span></span> -<span class="i0">The decorations of the maiden dead.</span> -<span class="i2">While quickly thus the mortal part declined,</span> -<span class="i0">The happiest visions fill’d the active mind;</span> -<span class="i0">A soft, religious melancholy gain’d</span> -<span class="i0">Entire possession, and for ever reign’d;</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</a></span> -<span class="i0">On holy writ her mind reposing dwelt,</span> -<span class="i0">She saw the wonders, she the mercies felt;</span> -<span class="i0">Till in a bless’d and glorious reverie,<span class="ws16">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">She seem’d the Saviour as on earth to see,<span class="ws12">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">And, fill’d with love divine, th’ attending friend to be;  }<span class="linenum">310</span></span> -<span class="i0">Or she, who trembling, yet confiding, stole</span> -<span class="i0">Near to the garment, touch’d it, and was whole;</span> -<span class="i0">When, such th’ intenseness of the working thought,</span> -<span class="i0">On her it seem’d the very deed was wrought;</span> -<span class="i0">She the glad patient’s fear and rapture found,</span> -<span class="i0">The holy transport, and the healing wound;</span> -<span class="i0">This was so fix’d, so grafted in the heart,</span> -<span class="i0">That she adopted, nay became, the part.</span> -<span class="i0">But one chief scene was present to her sight:</span> -<span class="i0">Her Saviour resting in the tomb by night; <span class="linenum">320</span></span> -<span class="i0">Her fever rose, and still her wedded mind</span> -<span class="i0">Was to that scene, that hallow’d cave, confined—</span> -<span class="i0">Where in the shade of death the body laid,</span> -<span class="i0">There watch’d the spirit of the wandering maid;</span> -<span class="i0">Her looks were fix’d, entranced, illumed, serene,</span> -<span class="i0">In the still glory of the midnight scene;</span> -<span class="i0">There at her Saviour’s feet, in visions bless’d,</span> -<span class="i0">Th’ enraptured maid a sacred joy possess’d;</span> -<span class="i0">In patience waiting for the first-born ray</span> -<span class="i0">Of that all-glorious and triumphant day. <span class="linenum">330</span></span> -<span class="i0">To this idea all her soul she gave,</span> -<span class="i0">Her mind reposing by the sacred grave;</span> -<span class="i0">Then sleep would seal the eye, the vision close,</span> -<span class="i0">And steep the solemn thoughts in brief repose.</span> -<span class="i2">Then grew the soul serene, and all its powers,</span> -<span class="i0">Again restored illumed the dying hours;</span> -<span class="i0">But reason dwelt where fancy stray’d before,</span> -<span class="i0">And the mind wander’d from its views no more;</span> -<span class="i0">Till death approach’d, when every look express’d</span> -<span class="i0">A sense of bliss, till every sense had rest. <span class="linenum">340</span></span> -<span class="i2">The mother lives, and has enough to buy</span> -<span class="i0">Th’ attentive ear and the submissive eye</span> -<span class="i0">Of abject natures—these are daily told,</span> -<span class="i0">How triumph’d beauty in the days of old;</span> -<span class="i0">How, by her window seated, crowds have cast</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</a></span> -<span class="i0">Admiring glances, wondering as they pass’d;</span> -<span class="i0">How from her carriage as she stepp’d to pray,</span> -<span class="i0">Divided ranks would humbly make her way;</span> -<span class="i0">And how each voice in the astonish’d throng</span> -<span class="i0">Pronounced her peerless as she moved along. <span class="linenum">350</span></span> -<span class="i2">Her picture then the greedy dame displays;</span> -<span class="i0">Touch’d by no shame, she now demands its praise;</span> -<span class="i0">In her tall mirror then she shows a face,</span> -<span class="i0">Still coldly fair with unaffecting grace;</span> -<span class="i0">These she compares: “It has the form,” she cries,</span> -<span class="i0">“But wants the air, the spirit, and the eyes;</span> -<span class="i0">This, as a likeness, is correct and true,</span> -<span class="i0">But there alone the living grace we view.”</span> -<span class="i0">This said, th’ applauding voice the dame required,</span> -<span class="i0">And, gazing, slowly from the glass retired. <span class="linenum">360</span></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</a></span> -</div></div> - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> -<h3>TALE IX.</h3> -<p class="f110"><i>ARABELLA.</i></p> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poem2"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Thrice blessed they that master so their blood—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">[........]<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But earthly happier is the rose distill’d,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Than that which, withering on the virgin thorn,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Grows, lives, and dies in single blessedness.<br /></span> -<span class="i12"><i>Midsummer Night’s Dream</i>, Act I. Scene 1.<br /><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I [something] do excuse the thing I hate,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For his advantage whom I dearly love.<br /></span> -<span class="i16"><i>Measure for Measure</i>, Act II. Scene 4.<br /><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Contempt, farewell! and maiden pride, adieu!<br /></span> -<span class="i12"><i>Much Ado about Nothing</i>, Act III. Scene 1.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</a></span> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="f120 break space-above2"><b>TALE IX.</b></p> -<p class="f110"><i>ARABELLA.</i></p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Of a fair town, where Doctor Rack was guide,</span> -<span class="i0">His only daughter was the boast and pride;</span> -<span class="i0">Wise Arabella—yet not wise alone,</span> -<span class="i0">She like a bright and polish’d brilliant shone;</span> -<span class="i0">Her father own’d her for his prop and stay,</span> -<span class="i0">Able to guide, yet willing to obey;</span> -<span class="i0">Pleased with her learning while discourse could please,</span> -<span class="i0">And with her love in languor and disease.</span> -<span class="i0">To every mother were her virtues known,</span> -<span class="i0">And to their daughters as a pattern shown; <span class="linenum">10</span></span> -<span class="i0">Who in her youth had all that age requires,</span> -<span class="i0">And, with her prudence, all that youth admires.</span> -<span class="i0">These odious praises made the damsels try</span> -<span class="i0">Not to obtain such merits, but deny;</span> -<span class="i0">For, whatsoever wise mammas might say,</span> -<span class="i0">To guide a daughter this was not the way;</span> -<span class="i0">From such applause disdain and anger rise,</span> -<span class="i0">And envy lives where emulation dies.</span> -<span class="i0">In all his strength contends the noble horse</span> -<span class="i0">With one who just precedes him on the course; <span class="linenum">20</span></span> -<span class="i0">But when the rival flies too far before,</span> -<span class="i0">His spirit fails, and he attempts no more.</span> -<span class="i2">This reasoning maid, above her sex’s dread,</span> -<span class="i0">Had dared to read, and dared to say she read;</span> -<span class="i0">Not the last novel, not the new-born play;</span> -<span class="i0">Not the mere trash and scandal of the day;</span> -<span class="i0">But (though her young companions felt the shock)</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</a></span> -<span class="i0">She studied Berkeley, Bacon, Hobbes, and Locke:</span> -<span class="i0">Her mind within the maze of history dwelt,</span> -<span class="i0">And of the moral muse the beauty felt; <span class="linenum">30</span></span> -<span class="i0">The merits of the Roman page she knew,</span> -<span class="i0">And could converse with Moore and Montagu:</span> -<span class="i0">Thus she became the wonder of the town,</span> -<span class="i0">From that she reap’d, to that she gave, renown;</span> -<span class="i0">And strangers, coming, all were taught t’ admire</span> -<span class="i0">The learned lady, and the lofty spire.</span> -<span class="i2">Thus fame in public fix’d the maid, where all</span> -<span class="i0">Might throw their darts, and see the idol fall;</span> -<span class="i0">A hundred arrows came with vengeance keen,</span> -<span class="i0">From tongues envenom’d, and from arms unseen; <span class="linenum">40</span></span> -<span class="i0">A thousand eyes were fix’d upon the place,</span> -<span class="i0">That, if she fell, she might not fly disgrace.</span> -<span class="i0">But malice vainly throws the poison’d dart,</span> -<span class="i0">Unless our frailty shows the peccant part;</span> -<span class="i0">And Arabella still preserved her name</span> -<span class="i0">Untouch’d, and shone with undisputed fame;</span> -<span class="i0">Her very notice some respect would cause,</span> -<span class="i0">And her esteem was honour and applause.</span> -<span class="i2">Men she avoided—not in childish fear,</span> -<span class="i0">As if she thought some savage foe was near; <span class="linenum">50</span></span> -<span class="i0">Not as a prude, who hides that man should seek,</span> -<span class="i0">Or who by silence hints that they should speak;</span> -<span class="i0">But with discretion all the sex she view’d,</span> -<span class="i0">Ere yet engaged, pursuing, or pursued;</span> -<span class="i0">Ere love had made her to his vices blind,</span> -<span class="i0">Or hid the favourite’s failings from her mind.</span> -<span class="i2">Thus was the picture of the man portray’d,</span> -<span class="i0">By merit destined for so rare a maid;</span> -<span class="i0">At whose request she might exchange her state,</span> -<span class="i0">Or still be happy in a virgin’s fate. <span class="linenum">60</span></span> -<span class="i2">He must be one with manners like her own,</span> -<span class="i0">His life unquestion’d, his opinions known;</span> -<span class="i0">His stainless virtue must all tests endure,</span> -<span class="i0">His honour spotless, and his bosom pure;</span> -<span class="i0">She no allowance made for sex or times,</span> -<span class="i0">Of lax opinion—crimes were ever crimes;</span> -<span class="i0">No wretch forsaken must his frailty curse,</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</a></span> -<span class="i0">No spurious offspring drain his private purse:</span> -<span class="i0">He at all times his passions must command,</span> -<span class="i0">And yet possess—or be refused her hand. <span class="linenum">70</span></span> -<span class="i2">All this without reserve the maiden told,</span> -<span class="i0">And some began to weigh the rector’s gold;</span> -<span class="i0">To ask what sum a prudent man might gain,</span> -<span class="i0">Who had such store of virtues to maintain?</span> -<span class="i2">A Doctor Campbell, north of Tweed, came forth,</span> -<span class="i0">Declared his passion, and proclaim’d his worth;</span> -<span class="i0">Not unapproved, for he had much to say</span> -<span class="i0">On every cause, and in a pleasant way;</span> -<span class="i0">Not all his trust was in a pliant tongue,</span> -<span class="i0">His form was good, and ruddy he, and young. <span class="linenum">80</span></span> -<span class="i0">But, though the Doctor was a man of parts,</span> -<span class="i0">He read not deeply male or female hearts;</span> -<span class="i0">But judged that all whom he esteem’d as wise</span> -<span class="i0">Must think alike, though some assumed disguise;</span> -<span class="i0">That every reasoning Bramin, Christian, Jew,</span> -<span class="i0">Of all religions took their liberal view;</span> -<span class="i0">And of her own, no doubt, this learned maid</span> -<span class="i0">Denied the substance, and the forms obey’d;</span> -<span class="i0">And thus persuaded, he his thoughts express’d</span> -<span class="i0">Of her opinions, and his own profess’d: <span class="linenum">90</span></span> -<span class="i0">“All states demand this aid, the vulgar need</span> -<span class="i0">Their priests and pray’rs, their sermons and their creed;</span> -<span class="i0">And those of stronger minds should never speak</span> -<span class="i0">(In his opinion) what might hurt the weak.</span> -<span class="i0">A man may smile, but still he should attend <span class="ws15">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">His hour at church, and be the church’s friend,<span class="ws13">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">What there he thinks conceal, and what he hears commend.” }</span> -<span class="i2">Frank was the speech, but heard with high disdain,</span> -<span class="i0">Nor had the Doctor leave to speak again;</span> -<span class="i0">A man who own’d, nay gloried in deceit, <span class="linenum">100</span></span> -<span class="i0">“He might despise her, but he should not cheat.”</span> -<span class="i2">Then Vicar Holmes appear’d; he heard it said</span> -<span class="i0">That ancient men best pleased the prudent maid;</span> -<span class="i0">And true it was her ancient friends she loved;</span> -<span class="i0">Servants when old she favour’d and approved;</span> -<span class="i0">Age in her pious parents she revered,</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</a></span> -<span class="i0">And neighbours were by length of days endear’d;</span> -<span class="i0">But, if her husband too must ancient be,</span> -<span class="i0">The good old Vicar found it was not he.</span> -<span class="i2">On Captain Bligh her mind in balance hung— <span class="linenum">110</span></span> -<span class="i0">Though valiant, modest; and reserved, though young:</span> -<span class="i0">Against these merits must defects be set—</span> -<span class="i0">Though poor, imprudent; and though proud, in debt:</span> -<span class="i0">In vain the Captain close attention paid;</span> -<span class="i0">She found him wanting, whom she fairly weigh’d.</span> -<span class="i2">Then came a youth, and all their friends agreed,</span> -<span class="i0">That Edward Huntly was the man indeed;</span> -<span class="i0">Respectful duty he had paid awhile,</span> -<span class="i0">Then ask’d her hand, and had a gracious smile:</span> -<span class="i0">A lover now declared, he led the fair <span class="linenum">120</span></span> -<span class="i0">To woods and fields, to visits and to pray’r;</span> -<span class="i0">Then whisper’d softly—“Will you name the day?”</span> -<span class="i0">She softly whisper’d—“If you love me, stay.”—</span> -<span class="i0">“Oh! try me not beyond my strength,” he cried;—</span> -<span class="i0">“Oh! be not weak,” the prudent maid replied;</span> -<span class="i0">“But by some trial your affection prove—</span> -<span class="i0">Respect and not impatience argues love;</span> -<span class="i0">And love no more is by impatience known,</span> -<span class="i0">Than Ocean’s depth is by its tempests shown.</span> -<span class="i0">He whom a weak and fond impatience sways,<span class="ws6">}</span><span class="linenum">130</span></span> -<span class="i0">But for himself with all his fervour prays, <span class="ws9">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">And not the maid he woos, but his own will obeys; }</span> -<span class="i0">And will she love the being who prefers,</span> -<span class="i0">With so much ardour, his desire to hers?”</span> -<span class="i2">Young Edward grieved, but let not grief be seen;</span> -<span class="i0">He knew obedience pleased his fancy’s queen:</span> -<span class="i0">Awhile he waited, and then cried—“Behold!</span> -<span class="i0">The year advancing, be no longer cold!”</span> -<span class="i0">For she had promised—“Let the flowers appear,</span> -<span class="i0">And I will pass with thee the smiling year.” <span class="linenum">140</span></span> -<span class="i0">Then pressing grew the youth; the more he press’d,</span> -<span class="i0">The less inclined the maid to his request:</span> -<span class="i0">“Let June arrive.”—Alas! when April came,</span> -<span class="i0">It brought a stranger, and the stranger, shame;</span> -<span class="i0">Nor could the lover from his house persuade</span> -<span class="i0">A stubborn lass whom he had mournful made;</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</a></span> -<span class="i0">Angry and weak, by thoughtless vengeance moved,</span> -<span class="i0">She told her story to the fair beloved;</span> -<span class="i0">In strongest words th’ unwelcome truth was shown,</span> -<span class="i0">To blight his prospects, careless of her own. <span class="linenum">150</span></span> -<span class="i2">Our heroine grieved, but had too firm a heart</span> -<span class="i0">For him to soften, when she swore to part;</span> -<span class="i0">In vain his seeming penitence and pray’r,</span> -<span class="i0">His vows, his tears: she left him in despair.</span> -<span class="i0">His mother fondly laid her grief aside,</span> -<span class="i0">And to the reason of the nymph applied—</span> -<span class="i2">“It well becomes thee, lady, to appear,</span> -<span class="i0">But not to be, in very truth, severe;</span> -<span class="i0">Although the crime be odious in thy sight,</span> -<span class="i0">That daring sex is taught such things to slight: <span class="linenum">160</span></span> -<span class="i0">His heart is thine, although it once was frail;</span> -<span class="i0">Think of his grief, and let his love prevail!—”</span> -<span class="i2">“Plead thou no more,” the lofty lass return’d;</span> -<span class="i0">“Forgiving woman is deceived and spurn’d.</span> -<span class="i0">Say that the crime is common—shall I take</span> -<span class="i0">A common man my wedded lord to make?</span> -<span class="i0">See! a weak woman by his arts betray’d,</span> -<span class="i0">An infant born his father to upbraid;</span> -<span class="i0">Shall I forgive his vileness, take his name,</span> -<span class="i0">Sanction his error, and partake his shame? <span class="linenum">170</span></span> -<span class="i0">No! this assent would kindred frailty prove,</span> -<span class="i0">A love for him would be a vicious love:</span> -<span class="i0">Can a chaste maiden secret counsel hold</span> -<span class="i0">With one whose crime by every mouth is told?</span> -<span class="i0">Forbid it spirit, prudence, virtuous pride;</span> -<span class="i0">He must despise me, were he not denied.</span> -<span class="i0">The way from vice the erring mind to win<span class="ws12">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Is with presuming sinners to begin, <span class="ws17">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">And show, by scorning them, a just contempt for sin.” }</span> -<span class="i2">The youth, repulsed, to one more mild convey’d <span class="linenum">180</span></span> -<span class="i0">His heart, and smiled on the remorseless maid;</span> -<span class="i0">The maid, remorseless in her pride, the while</span> -<span class="i0">Despised the insult, and return’d the smile.</span> -<span class="i2">First to admire, to praise her, and defend,</span> -<span class="i0">Was (now in years advanced) a virgin friend:</span> -<span class="i0">Much she preferr’d, she cried, a single state,</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</a></span> -<span class="i0">“It was her choice”—it surely was her fate;</span> -<span class="i0">And much it pleased her in the train to view</span> -<span class="i0">A maiden vot’ress, wise and lovely too.</span> -<span class="i2">Time to the yielding mind his change imparts, <span class="linenum">190</span></span> -<span class="i0">He varies notions, and he alters hearts;</span> -<span class="i0">’Tis right, ’tis just to feel contempt for vice,</span> -<span class="i0">But he that shows it may be over-nice:</span> -<span class="i0">There are who feel, when young, the false sublime,</span> -<span class="i0">And proudly love to show disdain for crime;</span> -<span class="i0">To whom the future will new thoughts supply,</span> -<span class="i0">The pride will soften, and the scorn will die;</span> -<span class="i0">Nay, where they still the vice itself condemn,</span> -<span class="i0">They bear the vicious, and consort with them.</span> -<span class="i0">Young Captain Grove, when one had changed his side, <span class="linenum">200</span></span> -<span class="i0">Despised the venal turn-coat, and defied;</span> -<span class="i0">Old Colonel Grove now shakes him by the hand,</span> -<span class="i0">Though he who bribes may still his vote command.</span> -<span class="i0">Why would not Ellen to Belinda speak,</span> -<span class="i0">When she had flown to London for a week,</span> -<span class="i0">And then return’d, to every friend’s surprise,</span> -<span class="i0">With twice the spirit, and with half the size?</span> -<span class="i0">She spoke not then—but, after years had flown,</span> -<span class="i0">A better friend had Ellen never known:</span> -<span class="i0">Was it the lady her mistake had seen? <span class="linenum">210</span></span> -<span class="i0">Or had she also such a journey been?</span> -<span class="i0">No: ’twas the gradual change in human hearts,</span> -<span class="i0">That time, in commerce with the world, imparts;</span> -<span class="i0">That on the roughest temper throws disguise,</span> -<span class="i0">And steals from virtue her asperities.</span> -<span class="i0">The young and ardent, who with glowing zeal</span> -<span class="i0">Felt wrath for trifles, and were proud to feel,</span> -<span class="i0">Now find those trifles all the mind engage,</span> -<span class="i0">To soothe dull hours, and cheat the cares of age;</span> -<span class="i0">As young Zelinda, in her quaker-dress, <span class="linenum">220</span></span> -<span class="i0">Disdain’d each varying fashion’s vile excess,</span> -<span class="i0">And now her friends on old Zelinda gaze,</span> -<span class="i0">Pleased in rich silks and orient gems to blaze.</span> -<span class="i0">Changes like these ’tis folly to condemn,</span> -<span class="i0">So virtue yields not, nor is changed with them.</span> -<span class="i2">Let us proceed:—Twelve brilliant years were past,</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</a></span> -<span class="i0">Yet each with less of glory than the last;</span> -<span class="i0">Whether these years to this fair virgin gave</span> -<span class="i0">A softer mind—effect they often have;</span> -<span class="i0">Whether the virgin-state was not so bless’d <span class="linenum">230</span></span> -<span class="i0">As that good maiden in her zeal profess’d;</span> -<span class="i0">Or whether lovers falling from her train,</span> -<span class="i0">Gave greater price to those she could retain,</span> -<span class="i0">Is all unknown;—but Arabella now</span> -<span class="i0">Was kindly listening to a merchant’s vow;</span> -<span class="i0">Who offer’d terms so fair, against his love</span> -<span class="i0">To strive was folly; so she never strove.—</span> -<span class="i0">Man in his earlier days we often find</span> -<span class="i0">With a too easy and unguarded mind;</span> -<span class="i0">But, by increasing years and prudence taught, <span class="linenum">240</span></span> -<span class="i0">He grows reserved, and locks up every thought.</span> -<span class="i0">Not thus the maiden, for in blooming youth</span> -<span class="i0">She hides her thought, and guards the tender truth;</span> -<span class="i0">This, when no longer young, no more she hides,</span> -<span class="i0">But frankly in the favour’d swain confides.</span> -<span class="i0">Man, stubborn man, is like the growing tree,</span> -<span class="i0">That longer standing, still will harder be;</span> -<span class="i0">And like its fruit the virgin, first austere,</span> -<span class="i0">Then kindly softening with the ripening year.</span> -<span class="i2">Now was the lover urgent, and the kind <span class="linenum">250</span></span> -<span class="i0">And yielding lady to his suit inclined:</span> -<span class="i0">“A little time, my friend, is just, is right;</span> -<span class="i0">We must be decent in our neighbours’ sight:”</span> -<span class="i0">Still she allow’d him of his hopes to speak,</span> -<span class="i0">And in compassion took off week by week;</span> -<span class="i0">Till few remain’d, when, wearied with delay,</span> -<span class="i0">She kindly meant to take off day by day.</span> -<span class="i2">That female friend who gave our virgin praise</span> -<span class="i0">For flying man and all his treacherous ways,</span> -<span class="i0">Now heard with mingled anger, shame and fear, <span class="linenum">260</span></span> -<span class="i0">Of one accepted, and a wedding near;</span> -<span class="i0">But she resolved again with friendly zeal</span> -<span class="i0">To make the maid her scorn of wedlock feel;</span> -<span class="i0">For she was grieved to find her work undone,</span> -<span class="i0">And like a sister mourn’d the failing nun.</span> -<span class="i2">Why are these gentle maidens prone to make</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</a></span> -<span class="i0">Their sister-doves the tempting world forsake?</span> -<span class="i0">Why all their triumph when a maid disdains</span> -<span class="i0">The tyrant-sex, and scorns to wear its chains?</span> -<span class="i0">Is it pure joy to see a sister flown <span class="linenum">270</span></span> -<span class="i0">From the false pleasures they themselves have known?</span> -<span class="i0">Or do they, as the call-birds in the cage,</span> -<span class="i0">Try, in pure envy, others to engage;</span> -<span class="i0">And therefore paint their native woods and groves,</span> -<span class="i0">As scenes of dangerous joys and naughty loves?</span> -<span class="i2">Strong was the maiden’s hope; her friend was proud,</span> -<span class="i0">And had her notions to the world avow’d;</span> -<span class="i0">And, could she find the Merchant weak and frail,</span> -<span class="i0">With power to prove it, then she must prevail;</span> -<span class="i0">For she aloud would publish his disgrace, <span class="linenum">280</span></span> -<span class="i0">And save his victim from a man so base.</span> -<span class="i2">When all inquiries had been duly made,</span> -<span class="i0">Came the kind friend her burthen to unlade:—</span> -<span class="i0">“Alas! my dear! not all our care and art</span> -<span class="i0">Can tread the maze of man’s deceitful heart:</span> -<span class="i0">Look not surprise—nor let resentment swell</span> -<span class="i0">Those lovely features, all will yet be well;</span> -<span class="i0">And thou, from love’s and man’s deceptions free,</span> -<span class="i0">Wilt dwell in virgin-state, and walk to heav’n with me.”</span> -<span class="i2">The maiden frown’d, and then conceived “that wives <span class="linenum">290</span></span> -<span class="i0">Could walk as well, and lead as holy lives</span> -<span class="i0">As angry prudes who scorn’d the marriage-chain,</span> -<span class="i0">Or luckless maids who sought it still in vain.”</span> -<span class="i2">The friend was vex’d—she paused, at length she cried:</span> -<span class="i0">“Know your own danger, then your lot decide;</span> -<span class="i0">That traitor Beswell, while he seeks your hand,</span> -<span class="i0">Has, I affirm, a wanton at command;</span> -<span class="i0">A slave, a creature from a foreign place,</span> -<span class="i0">The nurse and mother of a spurious race;</span> -<span class="i0">Brown, ugly bastards—(Heaven the word forgive, <span class="linenum">300</span></span> -<span class="i0">And the deed punish!)—in his cottage live;</span> -<span class="i0">To town if business calls him, there he stays</span> -<span class="i0">In sinful pleasures wasting countless days;</span> -<span class="i0">Nor doubt the facts, for I can witness call</span> -<span class="i0">For every crime, and prove them one and all.”</span> -<span class="i2">Here ceased th’ informer; Arabella’s look</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</a></span> -<span class="i0">Was like a school-boy’s puzzled by his book;</span> -<span class="i0">Intent she cast her eyes upon the floor,</span> -<span class="i0">Paused—then replied—</span> -<span class="i22">“I wish to know no more:</span> -<span class="i0">I question not your motive, zeal, or love, <span class="linenum">310</span></span> -<span class="i0">But must decline such dubious points to prove.—</span> -<span class="i0">All is not true, I judge, for who can guess</span> -<span class="i0">Those deeds of darkness men with care suppress?</span> -<span class="i0">He brought a slave perhaps to England’s coast,</span> -<span class="i0">And made her free; it is our country’s boast!</span> -<span class="i0">And she perchance too grateful—good and ill</span> -<span class="i0">Were sown at first, and grow together still;</span> -<span class="i0">The colour’d infants on the village-green,</span> -<span class="i0">What are they more than we have often seen?</span> -<span class="i0">Children half-clothed who round their village stray, }<span class="linenum">320</span></span> -<span class="i0">In sun or rain, now starved, now beaten, they<span class="ws7">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Will the dark colour of their fate betray;<span class="ws11">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Let us in Christian love for all account,</span> -<span class="i0">And then behold to what such tales amount.”</span> -<span class="i2">“His heart is evil,” said th’ impatient friend—</span> -<span class="i0">“My duty bids me try that heart to mend,”</span> -<span class="i0">Replied the virgin—“We may be too nice,</span> -<span class="i0">And lose a soul in our contempt of vice;</span> -<span class="i0">If false the charge, I then shall show regard</span> -<span class="i0">For a good man, and be his just reward; <span class="linenum">330</span></span> -<span class="i0">And what for virtue can I better do</span> -<span class="i0">Than to reclaim him, if the charge be true?”</span> -<span class="i2">She spoke, nor more her holy work delay’d;</span> -<span class="i0">’Twas time to lend an erring mortal aid:</span> -<span class="i0">“The noblest way,” she judged, “a soul to win,<span class="ws8">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Was with an act of kindness to begin,<span class="ws15">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">To make the sinner sure, and then t’ attack the sin<a name="FNanchor_5_5" id="FNanchor_5_5"></a><a href="#Footnote_5_5" class="fnanchor">[5]</a>.” }</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</a></span> -</div></div> - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> -<h3>TALE X.</h3> -<p class="f110"><i>THE LOVER’S JOURNEY.</i></p> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poem2"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The sun is in the [heaven], and the proud day,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Attended with the pleasures of the world,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Is all too wanton.<br /></span> -<span class="i25"><i>King John</i>, Act III. Scene 3.<br /><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The lunatic, the lover, and the poet,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Are of imagination all compact.<br /></span> -<span class="i13"><i>Midsummer Night’s Dream</i>, Act V. Scene 2.<br /><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Oh! how the spring of love resembleth<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Th’ uncertain glory of an April day,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Which now shows all her beauty to the sun,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And by and by a cloud bears all away.<br /><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And happily I have arrived at last<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Unto the wished haven of my bliss.<br /></span> -<span class="i17"><i>Taming of the Shrew</i>, Act V. Scene 1.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</a></span> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="f120 break space-above2"><b>TALE X.</b></p> -<p class="f110"><i>THE LOVER’S JOURNEY.</i></p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">It is the soul that sees; the outward eyes<span class="ws13">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Present the object, but the mind descries;<span class="ws12">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">And thence delight, disgust, or cool indiff’rence rise:  }</span> -<span class="i0">When minds are joyful, then we look around,</span> -<span class="i0">And what is seen is all on fairy ground;</span> -<span class="i0">Again they sicken, and on every view</span> -<span class="i0">Cast their own dull and melancholy hue;</span> -<span class="i0">Or, if absorb’d by their peculiar cares,</span> -<span class="i0">The vacant eye on viewless matter glares,</span> -<span class="i0">Our feelings still upon our views attend, <span class="linenum">10</span></span> -<span class="i0">And their own natures to the objects lend;</span> -<span class="i0">Sorrow and joy are in their influence sure,</span> -<span class="i0">Long as the passion reigns th’ effects endure;</span> -<span class="i0">But love in minds his various changes makes,</span> -<span class="i0">And clothes each object with the change he takes;</span> -<span class="i0">His light and shade on every view he throws,</span> -<span class="i0">And on each object, what he feels, bestows.</span> -<span class="i2">Fair was the morning, and the month was June,</span> -<span class="i0">When rose a lover; love awakens soon;</span> -<span class="i0">Brief his repose, yet much he dreamt the while <span class="linenum">20</span></span> -<span class="i0">Of that day’s meeting, and his Laura’s smile;</span> -<span class="i0">Fancy and love that name assign’d to her,</span> -<span class="i0">Call’d Susan in the parish-register;</span> -<span class="i0">And he no more was John—his Laura gave</span> -<span class="i0">The name Orlando to her faithful slave.</span> -<span class="i2">Bright shone the glory of the rising day,</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</a></span> -<span class="i0">When the fond traveller took his favourite way;</span> -<span class="i0">He mounted gaily, felt his bosom light,</span> -<span class="i0">And all he saw was pleasing in his sight.</span> -<span class="i2">“Ye hours of expectation, quickly fly, <span class="linenum">30</span></span> -<span class="i0">And bring on hours of blest reality;</span> -<span class="i0">When I shall Laura see, beside her stand,</span> -<span class="i0">Hear her sweet voice, and press her yielded hand.”</span> -<span class="i2">First o’er a barren heath beside the coast</span> -<span class="i0">Orlando rode, and joy began to boast.</span> -<span class="i2">“This neat low gorse,” said he, “with golden bloom,</span> -<span class="i0">Delights each sense, is beauty, is perfume;</span> -<span class="i0">And this gay ling, with all its purple flowers,</span> -<span class="i0">A man at leisure might admire for hours;</span> -<span class="i0">This green-fringed cup-moss has a scarlet tip, <span class="linenum">40</span></span> -<span class="i0">That yields to nothing but my Laura’s lip;</span> -<span class="i0">And then how fine this herbage! men may say</span> -<span class="i0">A heath is barren; nothing is so gay:</span> -<span class="i0">Barren or bare to call such charming scene</span> -<span class="i0">Argues a mind possess’d by care and spleen.”</span> -<span class="i2">Onward he went, and fiercer grew the heat,</span> -<span class="i0">Dust rose in clouds before the horse’s feet;</span> -<span class="i0">For now he pass’d through lanes of burning sand,</span> -<span class="i0">Bounds to thin crops or yet uncultured land;</span> -<span class="i0">Where the dark poppy flourished on the dry <span class="linenum">50</span></span> -<span class="i0">And sterile soil, and mock’d the thin-set rye.</span> -<span class="i2">“How lovely this!” the rapt Orlando said;</span> -<span class="i0">“With what delight is labouring man repaid!</span> -<span class="i0">The very lane has sweets that all admire,</span> -<span class="i0">The rambling suckling and the vigorous brier;</span> -<span class="i0">See! wholesome wormwood grows beside the way,</span> -<span class="i0">Where dew-press’d yet the dog-rose bends the spray;</span> -<span class="i0">Fresh herbs the fields, fair shrubs the banks adorn,</span> -<span class="i0">And snow-white bloom falls flaky from the thorn;</span> -<span class="i0">No fostering hand they need, no sheltering wall; <span class="linenum">60</span></span> -<span class="i0">They spring uncultured and they bloom for all.”</span> -<span class="i2">The lover rode as hasty lovers ride,</span> -<span class="i0">And reach’d a common pasture wild and wide;</span> -<span class="i0">Small black-legg’d sheep devour with hunger keen</span> -<span class="i0">The meagre herbage, fleshless, lank, and lean;</span> -<span class="i0">Such o’er thy level turf, Newmarket! stray,</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</a></span> -<span class="i0">And there, with other <i>black-legs</i> find their prey.</span> -<span class="i0">He saw some scatter’d hovels; turf was piled</span> -<span class="i0">In square brown stacks; a prospect bleak and wild!</span> -<span class="i0">A mill, indeed, was in the centre found, <span class="linenum">70</span></span> -<span class="i0">With short sear herbage withering all around;</span> -<span class="i0">A smith’s black shed opposed a wright’s long shop,</span> -<span class="i0">And join’d an inn where humble travellers stop.</span> -<span class="i2">“Ay, this is Nature,” said the gentle ’squire;</span> -<span class="i0">“This ease, peace, pleasure—who would not admire?</span> -<span class="i0">With what delight these sturdy children play,</span> -<span class="i0">And joyful rustics at the close of day;</span> -<span class="i0">Sport follows labour, on this even space</span> -<span class="i0">Will soon commence the wrestling and the race;</span> -<span class="i0">Then will the village-maidens leave their home, <span class="linenum">80</span></span> -<span class="i0">And to the dance with buoyant spirits come;</span> -<span class="i0">No affectation in their looks is seen,</span> -<span class="i0">Nor know they what disguise or flattery mean;</span> -<span class="i0">Nor aught to move an envious pang they see—</span> -<span class="i0">Easy their service, and their love is free;</span> -<span class="i0">Hence early springs that love, it long endures,</span> -<span class="i0">And life’s first comfort, while they live, ensures.</span> -<span class="i0">They the low roof and rustic comforts prize,</span> -<span class="i0">Nor cast on prouder mansions envying eyes;</span> -<span class="i0">Sometimes the news at yonder town they hear, <span class="linenum">90</span></span> -<span class="i0">And learn what busier mortals feel and fear;</span> -<span class="i0">Secure themselves, although by tales amazed</span> -<span class="i0">Of towns bombarded and of cities razed;</span> -<span class="i0">As if they doubted, in their still retreat,</span> -<span class="i0">The very news that makes their quiet sweet,</span> -<span class="i0">And their days happy—happier only knows</span> -<span class="i0">He on whom Laura her regard bestows.”</span> -<span class="i2">On rode Orlando, counting all the while</span> -<span class="i0">The miles he pass’d and every coming mile;</span> -<span class="i0">Like all attracted things, he quicker flies, <span class="linenum">100</span></span> -<span class="i0">The place approaching where th’ attraction lies;</span> -<span class="i0">When next appear’d a <i>dam</i>—so call the place—</span> -<span class="i0">Where lies a road confined in narrow space;</span> -<span class="i0">A work of labour, for on either side<span class="ws15">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Is level fen, a prospect wild and wide,<span class="ws13">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">With dikes on either hand by ocean’s self supplied.  }</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</a></span> -<span class="i0">Far on the right the distant sea is seen,</span> -<span class="i0">And salt the springs that feed the marsh between;</span> -<span class="i0">Beneath an ancient bridge, the straiten’d flood</span> -<span class="i0">Rolls through its sloping banks of slimy mud; <span class="linenum">110</span></span> -<span class="i0">Near it a sunken boat resists the tide,</span> -<span class="i0">That frets and hurries to th’ opposing side;</span> -<span class="i0">The rushes sharp, that on the borders grow,<span class="ws6">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Bend their brown flow’rets to the stream below, }</span> -<span class="i0">Impure in all its course, in all its progress slow:  }</span> -<span class="i0">Here a grave Flora<a name="FNanchor_6_6" id="FNanchor_6_6"></a><a href="#Footnote_6_6" class="fnanchor">[6]</a> - scarcely deigns to bloom,</span> -<span class="i0">Nor wears a rosy blush, nor sheds perfume;</span> -<span class="i0">The few dull flowers that o’er the place are spread</span> -<span class="i0">Partake the nature of their fenny bed;</span> -<span class="i0">Here on its wiry stem, in rigid bloom, <span class="linenum">120</span></span> -<span class="i0">Grows the salt lavender that lacks perfume;</span> -<span class="i0">Here the dwarf sallows creep, the septfoil harsh,</span> -<span class="i0">And the soft slimy mallow of the marsh;</span> -<span class="i0">Low on the ear the distant billows sound,</span> -<span class="i0">And just in view appears their stony bound;</span> -<span class="i0">No hedge nor tree conceals the glowing sun, <span class="ws7">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Birds, save a wat’ry tribe, the district shun, <span class="ws8">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Nor chirp among the reeds where bitter waters run. }</span> -<span class="i2">“Various as beauteous, Nature, is thy face,”</span> -<span class="i0">Exclaim’d Orlando: “all that grows has grace; <span class="linenum">130</span></span> -<span class="i0">All are appropriate—bog, and marsh, and fen,</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</a></span> -<span class="i0">Are only poor to undiscerning men;</span> -<span class="i0">Here may the nice and curious eye explore</span> -<span class="i0">How Nature’s hand adorns the rushy moor;</span> -<span class="i0">Here the rare moss in secret shade is found,</span> -<span class="i0">Here the sweet myrtle of the shaking ground;</span> -<span class="i0">Beauties are these that from the view retire,</span> -<span class="i0">But well repay th’ attention they require;</span> -<span class="i0">For these my Laura will her home forsake,</span> -<span class="i0">And all the pleasures they afford partake.” <span class="linenum">140</span></span> -<span class="i2">Again the country was enclosed, a wide</span> -<span class="i0">And sandy road has banks on either side;</span> -<span class="i0">Where, lo! a hollow on the left appear’d,</span> -<span class="i0">And there a gipsy-tribe their tent had rear’d;</span> -<span class="i0">’Twas open spread, to catch the morning sun,</span> -<span class="i0">And they had now their early meal begun,</span> -<span class="i0">When two brown boys just left their grassy seat,</span> -<span class="i0">The early trav’ller with their pray’rs to greet.</span> -<span class="i0">While yet Orlando held his pence in hand,</span> -<span class="i0">He saw their sister on her duty stand; <span class="linenum">150</span></span> -<span class="i0">Some twelve years old, demure, affected, sly,</span> -<span class="i0">Prepared the force of early powers to try;</span> -<span class="i0">Sudden a look of languor he descries,</span> -<span class="i0">And well-feign’d apprehension in her eyes;</span> -<span class="i0">Train’d but yet savage, in her speaking face</span> -<span class="i0">He mark’d the features of her vagrant race;</span> -<span class="i0">When a light laugh and roguish leer express’d</span> -<span class="i0">The vice implanted in her youthful breast.</span> -<span class="i0">Forth from the tent her elder brother came,</span> -<span class="i0">Who seem’d offended, yet forbore to blame <span class="linenum">160</span></span> -<span class="i0">The young designer, but could only trace</span> -<span class="i0">The looks of pity in the trav’ller’s face;</span> -<span class="i0">Within, the father, who from fences nigh <span class="ws12">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Had brought the fuel for the fire’s supply, <span class="ws11">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Watch’d now the feeble blaze, and stood dejected by; }</span> -<span class="i0">On ragged rug, just borrow’d from the bed,</span> -<span class="i0">And by the hand of coarse indulgence fed,</span> -<span class="i0">In dirty patchwork negligently dress’d,</span> -<span class="i0">Reclined the wife, an infant at her breast;</span> -<span class="i0">In her wild face some touch of grace remain’d, <span class="linenum">170</span></span> -<span class="i0">Of vigour palsied and of beauty stain’d;</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</a></span> -<span class="i0">Her bloodshot eyes on her unheeding mate</span> -<span class="i0">Were wrathful turn’d, and seem’d her wants to state,</span> -<span class="i0">Cursing his tardy aid—her mother there</span> -<span class="i0">With gipsy-state engross’d the only chair;</span> -<span class="i0">Solemn and dull her look; with such she stands,</span> -<span class="i0">And reads the milk-maid’s fortune in her hands,</span> -<span class="i0">Tracing the lines of life; assumed through years,</span> -<span class="i0">Each feature now the steady falsehood wears;</span> -<span class="i0">With hard and savage eye she views the food, <span class="linenum">180</span></span> -<span class="i0">And, grudging, pinches their intruding brood;</span> -<span class="i0">Last in the group, the worn-out grandsire sits</span> -<span class="i0">Neglected, lost, and living but by fits;</span> -<span class="i0">Useless, despised, his worthless labours done,</span> -<span class="i0">And half protected by the vicious son,</span> -<span class="i0">Who half supports him; he with heavy glance</span> -<span class="i0">Views the young ruffians who around him dance;</span> -<span class="i0">And, by the sadness in his face, appears</span> -<span class="i0">To trace the progress of their future years:</span> -<span class="i0">Through what strange course of misery, vice, deceit, <span class="linenum">190</span></span> -<span class="i0">Must wildly wander each unpractised cheat!</span> -<span class="i0">What shame and grief, what punishment and pain,</span> -<span class="i0">Sport of fierce passions, must each child sustain—</span> -<span class="i0">Ere they like him approach their latter end,</span> -<span class="i0">Without a hope, a comfort, or a friend!</span> -<span class="i2">But this Orlando felt not; “Rogues,” said he,</span> -<span class="i0">“Doubtless they are, but merry rogues they be;</span> -<span class="i0">They wander round the land, and be it true,</span> -<span class="i0">They break the laws—then let the laws pursue</span> -<span class="i0">The wanton idlers; for the life they live, <span class="linenum">200</span></span> -<span class="i0">Acquit I cannot, but I can forgive.”</span> -<span class="i0">This said, a portion from his purse was thrown,</span> -<span class="i0">And every heart seem’d happy like his own.</span> -<span class="i2">He hurried forth, for now the town was nigh—</span> -<span class="i0">“The happiest man of mortal men am I.”</span> -<span class="i0">Thou art! but change in every state is near,</span> -<span class="i0">(So, while the wretched hope, the blest may fear);</span> -<span class="i0">“Say, where is Laura!”—“That her words must show,”</span> -<span class="i0">A lass replied; “read this, and thou shalt know!”</span> -<span class="i2">“What, gone!”—Her friend insisted—forced to go— <span class="linenum">210</span></span> -<span class="i0">Is vex’d, was teased, could not refuse her!—“No?”—</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</a></span> -<span class="i0">“But you can follow;”—“Yes;”—“The miles are few,</span> -<span class="i0">The way is pleasant; will you come?—Adieu!</span> -<span class="i0">Thy Laura!” “No! I feel I must resign</span> -<span class="i0">The pleasing hope; thou hadst been here, if mine.</span> -<span class="i0">A lady was it?—Was no brother there?</span> -<span class="i0">But why should I afflict me if there were?</span> -<span class="i0">‘The way is pleasant.’”—What to me the way?</span> -<span class="i0">I cannot reach her till the close of day.</span> -<span class="i0">My dumb companion! is it thus we speed? <span class="linenum">220</span></span> -<span class="i0">Not I from grief nor thou from toil art freed;</span> -<span class="i0">Still art thou doom’d to travel and to pine,</span> -<span class="i0">For my vexation—What a fate is mine!</span> -<span class="i2">“Gone to a friend, she tells me; I commend</span> -<span class="i0">Her purpose; means she to a female friend?</span> -<span class="i0">By Heaven, I wish she suffer’d half the pain</span> -<span class="i0">Of hope protracted through the day in vain:</span> -<span class="i0">Shall I persist to see th’ ungrateful maid?</span> -<span class="i0">Yes, I will see her, slight her, and upbraid.</span> -<span class="i0">What! in the very hour? She knew the time, <span class="linenum">230</span></span> -<span class="i0">And doubtless chose it to increase her crime.”</span> -<span class="i2">Forth rode Orlando by a river’s side, <span class="ws9">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Inland and winding, smooth, and full and wide,<span class="ws3">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">That roll’d majestic on, in one soft-flowing tide; }</span> -<span class="i0">The bottom gravel, flow’ry were the banks,</span> -<span class="i0">Tall willows, waving in their broken ranks;</span> -<span class="i0">The road, now near, now distant, winding led</span> -<span class="i0">By lovely meadows which the waters fed;</span> -<span class="i0">He pass’d the way-side inn, the village spire,</span> -<span class="i0">Nor stopp’d to gaze, to question, or admire; <span class="linenum">240</span></span> -<span class="i0">On either side the rural mansions stood,<span class="ws16">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">With hedge-row trees, and hills high-crown’d with wood, }</span> -<span class="i0">And many a devious stream that reach’d the nobler flood. }</span> -<span class="i2">“I hate these scenes,” Orlando angry cried,</span> -<span class="i0">“And these proud farmers! yes, I hate their pride.</span> -<span class="i0">See! that sleek fellow, how he strides along,</span> -<span class="i0">Strong as an ox, and ignorant as strong;</span> -<span class="i0">Can yon close crops a single eye detain</span> -<span class="i0">But his who counts the profits of the grain?</span> -<span class="i0">And these vile beans with deleterious smell, <span class="linenum">250</span></span> -<span class="i0">Where is their beauty? can a mortal tell?</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</a></span> -<span class="i0">These deep fat meadows I detest; it shocks</span> -<span class="i0">One’s feelings there to see the grazing ox—</span> -<span class="i0">For slaughter fatted, as a lady’s smile</span> -<span class="i0">Rejoices man, and means his death the while.</span> -<span class="i0">Lo! now the sons of labour! every day</span> -<span class="i0">Employ’d in toil, and vex’d in every way;</span> -<span class="i0">Theirs is but mirth assumed, and they conceal,</span> -<span class="i0">In their affected joys, the ills they feel:</span> -<span class="i0">I hate these long green lanes; there’s nothing seen <span class="linenum">260</span></span> -<span class="i0">In this vile country but eternal green;</span> -<span class="i0">Woods! waters! meadows! Will they never end?</span> -<span class="i0">’Tis a vile prospect.—Gone to see a friend!”—</span> -<span class="i2">Still on he rode! a mansion fair and tall</span> -<span class="i0">Rose on his view—the pride of Loddon-Hall:</span> -<span class="i0">Spread o’er the park he saw the grazing steer,</span> -<span class="i0">The full-fed steed, the herds of bounding deer;</span> -<span class="i0">On a clear stream the vivid sunbeams play’d, <span class="ws4">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Through noble elms, and on the surface made<span class="ws4">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">That moving picture, checker’d light and shade; }<span class="linenum">270</span></span> -<span class="i0">Th’ attended children, there indulged to stray,</span> -<span class="i0">Enjoy’d and gave new beauty to the day;</span> -<span class="i0">Whose happy parents from their room were seen</span> -<span class="i0">Pleased with the sportive idlers on the green.</span> -<span class="i2">“Well!” said Orlando, “and for one so bless’d, <span class="ws5">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">A thousand reasoning wretches are distress’d;<span class="ws8">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Nay, these so seeming glad, are grieving like the rest: }</span> -<span class="i0">Man is a cheat—and all but strive to hide</span> -<span class="i0">Their inward misery by their outward pride.</span> -<span class="i0">What do yon lofty gates and walls contain, <span class="linenum">280</span></span> -<span class="i0">But fruitless means to soothe unconquer’d pain?</span> -<span class="i0">The parents read each infant daughter’s smile,</span> -<span class="i0">Form’d to seduce, encouraged to beguile;</span> -<span class="i0">They view the boys unconscious of their fate,</span> -<span class="i0">Sure to be tempted, sure to take the bait;</span> -<span class="i0">These will be Lauras, sad Orlandos these—</span> -<span class="i0">There’s guilt and grief in all one hears and sees.”</span> -<span class="i2">Our trav’ller, lab’ring up a hill, look’d down</span> -<span class="i0">Upon a lively, busy, pleasant town;</span> -<span class="i0">All he beheld were there alert, alive, <span class="linenum">290</span></span> -<span class="i0">The busiest bees that ever stock’d a hive:</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</a></span> -<span class="i0">A pair were married, and the bells aloud</span> -<span class="i0">Proclaim’d their joy, and joyful seem’d the crowd;</span> -<span class="i0">And now proceeding on his way, he spied,</span> -<span class="i0">Bound by strong ties, the bridegroom and the bride;</span> -<span class="i0">Each by some friends attended, near they drew,</span> -<span class="i0">And spleen beheld them with prophetic view.</span> -<span class="i2">“Married! nay, mad!” Orlando cried in scorn;</span> -<span class="i0">“Another wretch on this unlucky morn!</span> -<span class="i0">What are this foolish mirth, these idle joys? <span class="linenum">300</span></span> -<span class="i0">Attempts to stifle doubt and fear by noise:</span> -<span class="i0">To me these robes, expressive of delight,</span> -<span class="i0">Foreshow distress, and only grief excite;</span> -<span class="i0">And for these cheerful friends, will they behold</span> -<span class="i0">Their wailing brood in sickness, want, and cold;</span> -<span class="i0">And his proud look, and her soft languid air</span> -<span class="i0">Will—but I spare you—go, unhappy pair!”</span> -<span class="i2">And now approaching to the journey’s end, <span class="ws4">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">His anger fails, his thoughts to kindness tend,<span class="ws5">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">He less offended feels, and rather fears t’ offend: }<span class="linenum">310</span></span> -<span class="i0">Now gently rising, hope contends with doubt,</span> -<span class="i0">And casts a sunshine on the views without;</span> -<span class="i0">And still reviving joy and lingering gloom</span> -<span class="i0">Alternate empire o’er his soul assume;</span> -<span class="i0">Till, long perplex’d, he now began to find</span> -<span class="i0">The softer thoughts engross the settling mind.</span> -<span class="i0">He saw the mansion, and should quickly see</span> -<span class="i0">His Laura’s self—and angry could he be?</span> -<span class="i0">No! the resentment melted all away—</span> -<span class="i0">“For this my grief a single smile will pay,” <span class="linenum">320</span></span> -<span class="i0">Our trav’ller cried;—“And why should it offend,</span> -<span class="i0">That one so good should have a pressing friend?</span> -<span class="i0">Grieve not, my heart! to find a favourite guest  }</span> -<span class="i0">Thy pride and boast—ye selfish sorrows, rest;  }</span> -<span class="i0">She will be kind, and I again be blest.”<span class="ws10">}</span></span> -<span class="i2">While gentler passions thus his bosom sway’d,</span> -<span class="i0">He reach’d the mansion, and he saw the maid;</span> -<span class="i0">“My Laura!”—“My Orlando!—this is kind;</span> -<span class="i0">In truth I came persuaded, not inclined.</span> -<span class="i0">Our friends’ amusement let us now pursue, <span class="linenum">330</span></span> -<span class="i0">And I to-morrow will return with you.”</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</a></span> -<span class="i2">Like man entranced, the happy lover stood—</span> -<span class="i0">“As Laura wills, for she is kind and good;</span> -<span class="i0">Ever the truest, gentlest, fairest, best—</span> -<span class="i0">As Laura wills, I see her and am blest.”</span> -<span class="i2">Home went the lovers through that busy place,</span> -<span class="i0">By Loddon-Hall, the country’s pride and grace;</span> -<span class="i0">By the rich meadows where the oxen fed,</span> -<span class="i0">Through the green vale that form’d the river’s bed;</span> -<span class="i0">And by unnumber’d cottages and farms, <span class="linenum">340</span></span> -<span class="i0">That have for musing minds unnumber’d charms,</span> -<span class="i0">And how affected by the view of these</span> -<span class="i0">Was then Orlando—did they pain or please?</span> -<span class="i2">Nor pain nor pleasure could they yield—and why?<span class="ws3">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">The mind was fill’d, was happy, and the eye<span class="ws10">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Roved o’er the fleeting views, that but appear’d to die. }</span> -<span class="i2">Alone Orlando on the morrow paced</span> -<span class="i0">The well-known road; the [gipsy]-tent he traced;</span> -<span class="i0">The dam high-raised, the reedy dikes between,</span> -<span class="i0">The scatter’d hovels on the barren green, <span class="linenum">350</span></span> -<span class="i0">The burning sand, the fields of thin-set rye,</span> -<span class="i0">Mock’d by the useless Flora, blooming by;</span> -<span class="i0">And last the heath with all its various bloom,</span> -<span class="i0">And the close lanes that led the trav’ller home.</span> -<span class="i2">Then could these scenes the former joys renew?</span> -<span class="i0">Or was there now dejection in the view?—</span> -<span class="i0">Nor one or other would they yield—and why?<span class="ws10">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">The mind was absent, and the vacant eye<span class="ws14">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Wander’d o’er viewless scenes, that but appear’d to die. }</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</a></span> -</div></div> - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> -<h3>TALE XI.</h3> -<p class="f110"><i>EDWARD SHORE.</i></p> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poem2"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i16">Seem they grave or learned?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Why, so didst thou [......<br /></span> -<span class="i0">......] seem they religious?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Why, so didst thou; or are they spare in diet,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Free from gross passion or of mirth or anger,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Constant in spirit, not swerving with the blood,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Garnish’d and deck’d in modest compliment,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Not working with the eye without the ear,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And but [in] purged judgment trusting neither?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Such and so finely bolted didst thou seem.<br /></span> -<span class="i28"><i>Henry V</i>. Act II. Scene 2.<br /><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i20">Better I were distract:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">So should my thoughts be sever’d from my griefs,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And woes by strong imagination lose<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The knowledge of themselves.<br /></span> -<span class="i31"><i>Lear</i>, Act IV. Scene 6.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</a></span> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="f120 break space-above2"><b>TALE XI.</b></p> -<p class="f110"><i>EDWARD SHORE.</i></p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i2">Genius! thou gift of Heav’n! thou light divine!</span> -<span class="i0">Amid what dangers art thou doom’d to shine!</span> -<span class="i0">Oft will the body’s weakness check thy force,</span> -<span class="i0">Oft damp thy vigour, and impede thy course;</span> -<span class="i0">And trembling nerves compel thee to restrain</span> -<span class="i0">Thy nobler efforts, to contend with pain;</span> -<span class="i0">Or Want (sad guest!) will in thy presence come,</span> -<span class="i0">And breathe around her melancholy gloom;</span> -<span class="i0">To life’s low cares will thy proud thought confine,</span> -<span class="i0">And make her sufferings, her impatience, thine. <span class="linenum">10</span></span> -<span class="i2">Evil and strong, seducing passions prey</span> -<span class="i0">On soaring minds, and win them from their way;</span> -<span class="i0">Who then to vice the subject spirits give,</span> -<span class="i0">And in the service of the conqu’ror live;</span> -<span class="i0">Like captive Samson making sport for all,</span> -<span class="i0">Who fear’d their strength, and glory in their fall.</span> -<span class="i2">Genius, with virtue, still may lack the aid</span> -<span class="i0">Implored by humble minds and hearts afraid;</span> -<span class="i0">May leave to timid souls the shield and sword</span> -<span class="i0">Of the tried faith, and the resistless word; <span class="linenum">20</span></span> -<span class="i0">Amid a world of dangers venturing forth,</span> -<span class="i0">Frail, but yet fearless, proud in conscious worth,</span> -<span class="i0">Till strong temptation, in some fatal time,</span> -<span class="i0">Assails the heart, and wins the soul to crime;</span> -<span class="i0">When, left by honour, and by sorrow spent,</span> -<span class="i0">Unused to pray, unable to repent,</span> -<span class="i0">The nobler powers that once exalted high</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</a></span> -<span class="i0">Th’ aspiring man, shall then degraded lie:</span> -<span class="i0">Reason, through anguish, shall her throne forsake,</span> -<span class="i0">And strength of mind but stronger madness make. <span class="linenum">30</span></span> -<span class="i2">When <span class="smcap">Edward Shore</span> had reach’d his twentieth year,</span> -<span class="i0">He felt his bosom light, his conscience clear;</span> -<span class="i0">Applause at school the youthful hero gain’d,</span> -<span class="i0">And trials there with manly strength sustain’d;</span> -<span class="i0">With prospects bright upon the world he came,</span> -<span class="i0">Pure love of virtue, strong desire of fame;</span> -<span class="i0">Men watch’d the way his lofty mind would take,</span> -<span class="i0">And all foretold the progress he would make.</span> -<span class="i2">Boast of these friends, to older men a guide,</span> -<span class="i0">Proud of his parts, but gracious in his pride; <span class="linenum">40</span></span> -<span class="i0">He bore a gay good-nature in his face,</span> -<span class="i0">And in his air were dignity and grace;</span> -<span class="i0">Dress that became his state and years he wore,</span> -<span class="i0">And sense and spirit shone in Edward Shore.</span> -<span class="i2">Thus while admiring friends the youth beheld,</span> -<span class="i0">His own disgust their forward hopes repell’d;</span> -<span class="i0">For he unfix’d, unfixing, look’d around,</span> -<span class="i0">And no employment but in seeking found;</span> -<span class="i0">He gave his restless thoughts to views refined,</span> -<span class="i0">And shrank from worldly cares with wounded mind. <span class="linenum">50</span></span> -<span class="i2">Rejecting trade, awhile he dwelt on laws,</span> -<span class="i0">“But who could plead, if unapproved the cause?”</span> -<span class="i0">A doubting, dismal tribe physicians seem’d;</span> -<span class="i0">Divines o’er texts and disputations dream’d;</span> -<span class="i0">War and its glory he perhaps could love,</span> -<span class="i0">But there again he must the cause approve.</span> -<span class="i2">Our hero thought no deed should gain applause,</span> -<span class="i0">Where timid virtue found support in laws;</span> -<span class="i0">He to all good would soar, would fly all sin,</span> -<span class="i0">By the pure prompting of the will within; <span class="linenum">60</span></span> -<span class="i0">“Who needs a law that binds him not to steal,”</span> -<span class="i0">Ask’d the young teacher, “can he rightly feel?</span> -<span class="i0">To curb the will, or arm in honour’s cause,</span> -<span class="i0">Or aid the weak—are these enforced by laws?</span> -<span class="i0">Should we a foul, ungenerous action dread,</span> -<span class="i0">Because a law condemns th’ adulterous bed?</span> -<span class="i0">Or fly pollution, not for fear of stain,</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</a></span> -<span class="i0">But that some statute tells us to refrain?</span> -<span class="i0">The grosser herd in ties like these we bind,</span> -<span class="i0">In virtue’s freedom moves th’ enlighten’d mind.” <span class="linenum">70</span></span> -<span class="i2">“Man’s heart deceives him,” said a friend. “Of course,”</span> -<span class="i0">Replied the youth, “but, has it power to force?</span> -<span class="i0">Unless it forces, call it as you will,</span> -<span class="i0">It is but wish, and proneness to the ill.”</span> -<span class="i2">“Art thou not tempted?” “Do I fall?” said Shore:</span> -<span class="i0">“The pure have fallen.”—“Then are pure no more.</span> -<span class="i0">While reason guides me, I shall walk aright,</span> -<span class="i0">Nor need a steadier hand, or stronger light;</span> -<span class="i0">Nor this in dread of awful threats, design’d</span> -<span class="i0">For the weak spirit and the grov’ling mind, <span class="linenum">80</span></span> -<span class="i0">But that, engaged by thoughts and views sublime,</span> -<span class="i0">I wage free war with grossness and with crime.”</span> -<span class="i0">Thus look’d he proudly on the vulgar crew,</span> -<span class="i0">Whom statutes govern, and whom fears subdue.</span> -<span class="i2">Faith, with his virtue, he indeed profess’d,</span> -<span class="i0">But doubts deprived his ardent mind of rest;</span> -<span class="i0">Reason, his sovereign mistress, fail’d to show</span> -<span class="i0">Light through the mazes of the world below;</span> -<span class="i0">Questions arose, and they surpass’d the skill</span> -<span class="i0">Of his sole aid, and would be dubious still; <span class="linenum">90</span></span> -<span class="i0">These to discuss he sought no common guide,</span> -<span class="i0">But to the doubters in his doubts applied;</span> -<span class="i0">When all together might in freedom speak,</span> -<span class="i0">And their loved truth with mutual ardour seek.</span> -<span class="i0">Alas! though men who feel their eyes decay</span> -<span class="i0">Take more than common pains to find their way,</span> -<span class="i0">Yet, when for this they ask each other’s aid,</span> -<span class="i0">Their mutual purpose is the more delay’d:</span> -<span class="i0">Of all their doubts, their reasoning clear’d not one,</span> -<span class="i0">Still the same spots were present in the sun; <span class="linenum">100</span></span> -<span class="i0">Still the same scruples haunted Edward’s mind,</span> -<span class="i0">Who found no rest, nor took the means to find.</span> -<span class="i2">But though with shaken faith, and slave to fame,</span> -<span class="i0">Vain and aspiring on the world he came;</span> -<span class="i0">Yet was he studious, serious, moral, grave,</span> -<span class="i0">No passion’s victim, and no system’s slave;</span> -<span class="i0">Vice he opposed, indulgence he disdain’d,</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</a></span> -<span class="i0">And o’er each sense in conscious triumph reign’d.</span> -<span class="i2">Who often reads, will sometimes wish to write,</span> -<span class="i0">And Shore would yield instruction and delight: <span class="linenum">110</span></span> -<span class="i0">A serious drama he design’d, but found</span> -<span class="i0">’Twas tedious travelling in that gloomy ground;</span> -<span class="i0">A deep and solemn story he would try,</span> -<span class="i0">But grew ashamed of ghosts, and laid it by;</span> -<span class="i0">Sermons he wrote, but they who knew his creed,</span> -<span class="i0">Or knew it not, were ill disposed to read;</span> -<span class="i0">And he would lastly be the nation’s guide,</span> -<span class="i0">But, studying, fail’d to fix upon a side;</span> -<span class="i0">Fame he desired, and talents he possess’d,</span> -<span class="i0">But loved not labour, though he could not rest, <span class="linenum">120</span></span> -<span class="i0">Nor firmly fix the vacillating mind,</span> -<span class="i0">That, ever working, could no centre find.</span> -<span class="i2">’Tis thus a sanguine reader loves to trace</span> -<span class="i0">The Nile forth rushing on his glorious race;</span> -<span class="i0">Calm and secure the fancied traveller goes</span> -<span class="i0">Through sterile deserts and by threat’ning foes;</span> -<span class="i0">He thinks not then of Afric’s scorching sands,</span> -<span class="i0">Th’ Arabian sea, the Abyssinian bands;</span> -<span class="i0">Fasils<a name="FNanchor_7_7" id="FNanchor_7_7"></a><a href="#Footnote_7_7" class="fnanchor">[7]</a> - and Michaels, and the robbers all,</span> -<span class="i0">Whom we politely chiefs and heroes call: <span class="linenum">130</span></span> -<span class="i0">He of success alone delights to think,<span class="ws13">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">He views that fount, he stands upon the brink,<span class="ws6">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">And drinks a fancied draught, exulting so to drink.  }</span> -<span class="i2">In his own room, and with his books around,</span> -<span class="i0">His lively mind its chief employment found;</span> -<span class="i0">Then idly busy, quietly employ’d,</span> -<span class="i0">And, lost to life, his visions were enjoy’d;</span> -<span class="i0">Yet still he took a keen inquiring view</span> -<span class="i0">Of all that crowds neglect, desire, pursue;</span> -<span class="i0">And thus abstracted, curious, still, serene, <span class="linenum">140</span></span> -<span class="i0">He, unemploy’d, beheld life’s shifting scene;</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</a></span> -<span class="i0">Still more averse from vulgar joys and cares,</span> -<span class="i0">Still more unfitted for the world’s affairs.</span> -<span class="i2">There was a house where Edward oft-times went,</span> -<span class="i0">And social hours in pleasant trifling spent;</span> -<span class="i0">He read, conversed and reason’d, sang and play’d,</span> -<span class="i0">And all were happy while the idler stay’d;</span> -<span class="i0">Too happy one, for thence arose the pain,</span> -<span class="i0">Till this engaging trifler came again.</span> -<span class="i2">But did he love? We answer, day by day, <span class="linenum">150</span></span> -<span class="i0">The loving feet would take th’ accustom’d way;</span> -<span class="i0">The amorous eye would rove as if in quest</span> -<span class="i0">Of something rare, and on the mansion rest;</span> -<span class="i0">The same soft passion touch’d the gentle tongue,</span> -<span class="i0">And Anna’s charms in tender notes were sung;</span> -<span class="i0">The ear too seem’d to feel the common flame,</span> -<span class="i0">Sooth’d and delighted with the fair one’s name;</span> -<span class="i0">And thus as love each other part possess’d,</span> -<span class="i0">The heart, no doubt, its sovereign power confess’d.</span> -<span class="i2">Pleased in her sight, the youth required no more; <span class="linenum">160</span></span> -<span class="i0">Not rich himself, he saw the damsel poor;</span> -<span class="i0">And he too wisely, nay, too kindly loved,</span> -<span class="i0">To pain the being whom his soul approved.</span> -<span class="i2">A serious friend our cautious youth possess’d,</span> -<span class="i0">And at his table sat a welcome guest;</span> -<span class="i0">Both unemploy’d, it was their chief delight</span> -<span class="i0">To read what free and daring authors write;</span> -<span class="i0">Authors who loved from common views to soar,</span> -<span class="i0">And seek the fountains never traced before;</span> -<span class="i0">Truth they profess’d, yet often left the true <span class="linenum">170</span></span> -<span class="i0">And beaten prospect, for the wild and new.</span> -<span class="i0">His chosen friend his fiftieth year had seen,</span> -<span class="i0">His fortune easy, and his air serene;</span> -<span class="i0">Deist and atheist call’d; for few agreed</span> -<span class="i0">What were his notions, principles, or creed;</span> -<span class="i0">His mind reposed not, for he hated rest,</span> -<span class="i0">But all things made a query or a jest;</span> -<span class="i0">Perplex’d himself, he ever sought to prove</span> -<span class="i0">That man is doom’d in endless doubt to rove;</span> -<span class="i0">Himself in darkness he profess’d to be, <span class="linenum">180</span></span> -<span class="i0">And would maintain that not a man could see.</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</a></span> -<span class="i2">The youthful friend, dissentient, reason’d still</span> -<span class="i0">Of the soul’s prowess, and the subject will;</span> -<span class="i0">Of virtue’s beauty, and of honour’s force,</span> -<span class="i0">And a warm zeal gave life to his discourse;</span> -<span class="i0">Since from his feelings all his fire arose,</span> -<span class="i0">And he had interest in the themes he chose.</span> -<span class="i2">The friend, indulging a sarcastic smile,</span> -<span class="i0">Said—“Dear enthusiast! thou wilt change thy style,</span> -<span class="i0">When man’s delusions, errors, crimes, deceit, <span class="linenum">190</span></span> -<span class="i0">No more distress thee, and no longer cheat.”</span> -<span class="i2">Yet lo! this cautious man, so coolly wise,</span> -<span class="i0">On a young beauty fix’d unguarded eyes;</span> -<span class="i0">And her he married. Edward at the view</span> -<span class="i0">Bade to his cheerful visits long adieu;</span> -<span class="i0">But haply err’d, for this engaging bride</span> -<span class="i0">No mirth suppress’d, but rather cause supplied;</span> -<span class="i0">And, when she saw the friends, by reasoning long,</span> -<span class="i0">Confused if right, and positive if wrong,</span> -<span class="i0">With playful speech and smile, that spoke delight, <span class="linenum">200</span></span> -<span class="i0">She made them careless both of wrong and right.</span> -<span class="i2">This gentle damsel gave consent to wed,</span> -<span class="i0">With school and school-day dinners in her head:</span> -<span class="i0">She now was promised choice of daintiest food,</span> -<span class="i0">And costly dress, that made her sovereign good;</span> -<span class="i0">With walks on hilly heath to banish spleen,</span> -<span class="i0">And summer-visits when the roads were clean.</span> -<span class="i0">All these she loved, to these she gave consent,</span> -<span class="i0">And she was married to her heart’s content.</span> -<span class="i2">Their manner this—the friends together read, <span class="linenum">210</span></span> -<span class="i0">Till books a cause for disputation bred;</span> -<span class="i0">Debate then follow’d, and the vapour’d child</span> -<span class="i0">Declared they argued till her head was wild;</span> -<span class="i0">And strange to her it was that mortal brain</span> -<span class="i0">Could seek the trial, or endure the pain.</span> -<span class="i2">Then, as the friend reposed, the younger pair</span> -<span class="i0">Sat down to cards, and play’d beside his chair;</span> -<span class="i0">Till he, awaking, to his books applied,</span> -<span class="i0">Or heard the music of th’ obedient bride.</span> -<span class="i0">If mild the evening, in the fields they stray’d, <span class="linenum">220</span></span> -<span class="i0">And their own flock with partial eye survey’d;</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</a></span> -<span class="i0">But oft the husband, to indulgence prone,</span> -<span class="i0">Resumed his book, and bade them walk alone.</span> -<span class="i2">“Do, my kind Edward! I must take mine ease,</span> -<span class="i0">Name the dear girl the planets and the trees;</span> -<span class="i0">Tell her what warblers pour their evening song,</span> -<span class="i0">What insects flutter, as you walk along;</span> -<span class="i0">Teach her to fix the roving thoughts, to bind</span> -<span class="i0">The wandering sense, and methodize the mind.”</span> -<span class="i2">This was obey’d; and oft when this was done, <span class="linenum">230</span></span> -<span class="i0">They calmly gazed on the declining sun;</span> -<span class="i0">In silence saw the glowing landscape fade,</span> -<span class="i0">Or, sitting, sang beneath the arbour’s shade:</span> -<span class="i0">Till rose the moon, and on each youthful face</span> -<span class="i0">Shed a soft beauty, and a dangerous grace.</span> -<span class="i2">When the young wife beheld in long debate</span> -<span class="i0">The friends, all careless as she seeming sate;</span> -<span class="i0">It soon appear’d, there was in one combined</span> -<span class="i0">The nobler person and the richer mind:</span> -<span class="i0">He wore no wig, no grisly beard was seen, <span class="linenum">240</span></span> -<span class="i0">And none beheld him careless or unclean;</span> -<span class="i0">Or watch’d him sleeping—we indeed have heard</span> -<span class="i0">Of sleeping beauty, and it has appear’d;</span> -<span class="i0">’Tis seen in infants; there indeed we find</span> -<span class="i0">The features soften’d by the slumbering mind—</span> -<span class="i0">But other beauties, when disposed to sleep,</span> -<span class="i0">Should from the eye of keen inspector keep:</span> -<span class="i0">The lovely nymph who would her swain surprise,</span> -<span class="i0">May close her mouth, but not conceal her eyes;</span> -<span class="i0">Sleep from the fairest face some beauty takes, <span class="linenum">250</span></span> -<span class="i0">And all the homely features homelier makes;</span> -<span class="i0">So thought our wife, beholding with a sigh</span> -<span class="i0">Her sleeping spouse, and Edward smiling by.</span> -<span class="i2">A sick relation for the husband sent;</span> -<span class="i0">Without delay the friendly sceptic went;</span> -<span class="i0">Nor fear’d the youthful pair, for he had seen</span> -<span class="i0">The wife untroubled, and the friend serene;</span> -<span class="i0">No selfish purpose in his roving eyes,</span> -<span class="i0">No vile deception in her fond replies:</span> -<span class="i0">So judged the husband, and with judgment true, <span class="linenum">260</span></span> -<span class="i0">For neither yet the guilt or danger knew.</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</a></span> -<span class="i2">What now remain’d? but they again should play</span> -<span class="i0">Th’ accustom’d game, and walk th’ accustom’d way;</span> -<span class="i0">With careless freedom should converse or read,</span> -<span class="i0">And the friend’s absence neither fear nor heed.</span> -<span class="i0">But rather now they seem’d confused, constrain’d; <span class="ws5">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Within their room still restless they remain’d, <span class="ws9">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">And painfully they felt, and knew each other pain’d.— }</span> -<span class="i0">Ah! foolish men! how could ye thus depend,</span> -<span class="i0">One on himself, the other on his friend? <span class="linenum">270</span></span> -<span class="i2">The youth with troubled eye the lady saw,</span> -<span class="i0">Yet felt too brave, too daring to withdraw;</span> -<span class="i0">While she, with tuneless hand the jarring keys</span> -<span class="i0">Touching, was not one moment at her ease.</span> -<span class="i0">Now would she walk, and call her friendly guide,</span> -<span class="i0">Now speak of rain, and cast her cloak aside;</span> -<span class="i0">Seize on a book, unconscious what she read,</span> -<span class="i0">And restless still, to new resources fled;</span> -<span class="i0">Then laugh’d aloud, then tried to look serene,</span> -<span class="i0">And ever changed, and every change was seen. <span class="linenum">280</span></span> -<span class="i2">Painful it is to dwell on deeds of shame—</span> -<span class="i0">The trying day was past, another came;</span> -<span class="i0">The third was all remorse, confusion, dread,</span> -<span class="i0">And (all too late!) the fallen hero fled.</span> -<span class="i2">Then felt the youth, in that seducing time,</span> -<span class="i0">How feebly honour guards the heart from crime:</span> -<span class="i0">Small is his native strength; man needs the stay,</span> -<span class="i0">The strength imparted in the trying day;</span> -<span class="i0">For all that honour brings against the force</span> -<span class="i0">Of headlong passion, aids its rapid course; <span class="linenum">290</span></span> -<span class="i0">Its slight resistance but provokes the fire,</span> -<span class="i0">As wood-work stops the flame, and then conveys it higher.</span> -<span class="i2">The husband came; a wife by guilt made bold</span> -<span class="i0">Had, meeting, sooth’d him, as in days of old;</span> -<span class="i0">But soon this fact transpired; her strong distress,</span> -<span class="i0">And his friend’s absence, left him nought to guess.</span> -<span class="i2">Still cool, though grieved, thus prudence bade him write—</span> -<span class="i0">“I cannot pardon, and I will not fight;</span> -<span class="i0">Thou art too poor a culprit for the laws,</span> -<span class="i0">And I too faulty to support my cause. <span class="linenum">300</span></span> -<span class="i0">All must be punish’d; I must sigh alone,</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</a></span> -<span class="i0">At home thy victim for her guilt atone;</span> -<span class="i0">And thou, unhappy! virtuous now no more,</span> -<span class="i0">Must loss of fame, peace, purity deplore;</span> -<span class="i0">Sinners with praise will pierce thee to the heart,</span> -<span class="i0">And saints deriding, tell thee what thou art.”</span> -<span class="i2">Such was his fall; and Edward, from that time,</span> -<span class="i0">Felt in full force the censure and the crime—</span> -<span class="i0">Despised, ashamed; his noble views before,</span> -<span class="i0">And his proud thoughts, degraded him the more. <span class="linenum">310</span></span> -<span class="i0">Should he repent—would that conceal his shame?</span> -<span class="i0">Could peace be his? It perish’d with his fame.</span> -<span class="i0">Himself he scorn’d, nor could his crime forgive;</span> -<span class="i0">He fear’d to die, yet felt ashamed to live;</span> -<span class="i0">Grieved, but not contrite was his heart—oppress’d,</span> -<span class="i0">Not broken; not converted, but distress’d;</span> -<span class="i0">He wanted will to bend the stubborn knee,<span class="ws12"> }</span></span> -<span class="i0">He wanted light the cause of ill to see,<span class="ws16">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">To learn how frail is man, how humble then should be;  }</span> -<span class="i0">For faith he had not, or a faith too weak <span class="linenum">320</span></span> -<span class="i0">To gain the help that humbled sinners seek;</span> -<span class="i0">Else had he pray’d—to an offended God</span> -<span class="i0">His tears had flown a penitential flood;</span> -<span class="i0">Though far astray, he would have heard the call</span> -<span class="i0">Of mercy—“Come! return, thou prodigal;”</span> -<span class="i0">Then, though confused, distress’d, ashamed, afraid,</span> -<span class="i0">Still had the trembling penitent obey’d;</span> -<span class="i0">Though faith had fainted, when assail’d by fear,</span> -<span class="i0">Hope to the soul had whisper’d, “Persevere!”</span> -<span class="i0">Till, in his Father’s house an humbled guest, <span class="linenum">330</span></span> -<span class="i0">He would have found forgiveness, comfort, rest.</span> -<span class="i2">But all this joy was to our youth denied</span> -<span class="i0">By his fierce passions and his daring pride;</span> -<span class="i0">And shame and doubt impell’d him in a course,</span> -<span class="i0">Once so abhorr’d, with unresisted force.</span> -<span class="i0">Proud minds and guilty, whom their crimes oppress,</span> -<span class="i0">Fly to new crimes for comfort and redress;</span> -<span class="i0">So found our fallen youth a short relief</span> -<span class="i0">In wine, the opiate guilt applies to grief—</span> -<span class="i0">From fleeting mirth that o’er the bottle lives; <span class="linenum">340</span></span> -<span class="i0">From the false joy its inspiration gives;</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</a></span> -<span class="i0">And from associates, pleased to find a friend</span> -<span class="i0">With powers to lead them, gladden, and defend,</span> -<span class="i0">In all those scenes where transient ease is found</span> -<span class="i0">For minds whom sins oppress, and sorrows wound.</span> -<span class="i2">Wine is like anger; for it makes us strong,<span class="ws7">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Blind and impatient, and it leads us wrong;<span class="ws8">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">The strength is quickly lost, we feel the error long. }</span> -<span class="i0">Thus led, thus strengthen’d in an evil cause</span> -<span class="i0">For folly pleading, sought the youth applause; <span class="linenum">350</span></span> -<span class="i0">Sad for a time, then eloquently wild,</span> -<span class="i0">He gaily spoke as his companions smiled;</span> -<span class="i0">Lightly he rose, and with his former grace</span> -<span class="i0">Proposed some doubt, and argued on the case;</span> -<span class="i0">Fate and fore-knowledge were his favourite themes—</span> -<span class="i0">How vain man’s purpose, how absurd his schemes:</span> -<span class="i0">“Whatever is, was ere our birth decreed;<span class="ws6">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">We think our actions from ourselves proceed, }</span> -<span class="i0">And idly we lament th’ inevitable deed;<span class="ws6"> }</span></span> -<span class="i0">It seems our own, but there’s a power above <span class="linenum">360</span></span> -<span class="i0">Directs the motion, nay, that makes us move;</span> -<span class="i0">Nor good nor evil can you beings name,</span> -<span class="i0">Who are but rooks and castles in the game;</span> -<span class="i0">Superior natures with their puppets play,</span> -<span class="i0">Till, bagg’d or buried, all are swept away.”</span> -<span class="i2">Such were the notions of a mind to ill</span> -<span class="i0">Now prone, but ardent and determined still.</span> -<span class="i0">Of joy now eager, as before of fame,</span> -<span class="i0">And screen’d by folly when assail’d by shame,</span> -<span class="i0">Deeply he sank; obey’d each passion’s call, <span class="linenum">370</span></span> -<span class="i0">And used his reason to defend them all.</span> -<span class="i0">Shall I proceed, and step by step relate</span> -<span class="i0">The odious progress of a sinner’s fate?</span> -<span class="i0">No—let me rather hasten to the time</span> -<span class="i0">(Sure to arrive) when misery waits on crime.</span> -<span class="i2">With virtue, prudence fled; what Shore possess’d</span> -<span class="i0">Was sold, was spent, and he was now distress’d;</span> -<span class="i0">And Want, unwelcome stranger, pale and wan,</span> -<span class="i0">Met with her haggard looks the hurried man;</span> -<span class="i0">His pride felt keenly what he must expect <span class="linenum">380</span></span> -<span class="i0">From useless pity and from cold neglect.</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</a></span> -<span class="i2">Struck by new terrors, from his friends he fled,</span> -<span class="i0">And wept his woes upon a restless bed;</span> -<span class="i0">Retiring late, at early hour to rise,</span> -<span class="i0">With shrunken features, and with bloodshot eyes.</span> -<span class="i0">If sleep one moment closed the dismal view,</span> -<span class="i0">Fancy her terrors built upon the true;</span> -<span class="i0">And night and day had their alternate woes,</span> -<span class="i0">That baffled pleasure, and that mock’d repose;</span> -<span class="i0">Till to despair and anguish was consign’d <span class="linenum">390</span></span> -<span class="i0">The wreck and ruin of a noble mind.</span> -<span class="i2">Now seized for debt, and lodged within a jail,</span> -<span class="i0">He tried his friendships, and he found them fail;</span> -<span class="i0">Then fail’d his spirits, and his thoughts were all</span> -<span class="i0">Fix’d on his sins, his sufferings, and his fall.</span> -<span class="i0">His ruffled mind was pictured in his face,</span> -<span class="i0">Once the fair seat of dignity and grace;</span> -<span class="i0">Great was the danger of a man so prone</span> -<span class="i0">To think of madness, and to think alone;</span> -<span class="i0">Yet pride still lived, and struggled to sustain <span class="linenum">400</span></span> -<span class="i0">The drooping spirit and the roving brain;</span> -<span class="i0">But this too fail’d: a friend his freedom gave,</span> -<span class="i0">And sent him help the threat’ning world to brave;</span> -<span class="i0">Gave solid counsel what to seek or flee,</span> -<span class="i0">But still would stranger to his person be:</span> -<span class="i0">In vain! the truth determined to explore,</span> -<span class="i0">He traced the friend whom he had wrong’d before.</span> -<span class="i2">This was too much; both aided and advised</span> -<span class="i0">By one who shunn’d him, pitied, and despised,</span> -<span class="i0">He bore it not; ’twas a deciding stroke, <span class="linenum">410</span></span> -<span class="i0">And on his reason like a torrent broke:</span> -<span class="i0">In dreadful stillness he appear’d awhile,</span> -<span class="i0">With vacant horror and a ghastly smile;</span> -<span class="i0">Then rose at once into the frantic rage,</span> -<span class="i0">That force controll’d not, nor could love assuage.</span> -<span class="i2">Friends now appear’d, but in the man was seen</span> -<span class="i0">The angry maniac, with vindictive mien;</span> -<span class="i0">Too late their pity gave to care and skill</span> -<span class="i0">The hurried mind and ever-wandering will;</span> -<span class="i0">Unnoticed pass’d all time, and not a ray <span class="linenum">420</span></span> -<span class="i0">Of reason broke on his benighted way;</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</a></span> -<span class="i0">But now he spurn’d the straw in pure disdain,</span> -<span class="i0">And now laugh’d loudly at the clinking chain.</span> -<span class="i2">Then, as its wrath subsided, by degrees</span> -<span class="i0">The mind sank slowly to infantine ease;</span> -<span class="i0">To playful folly, and to causeless joy,</span> -<span class="i0">Speech without aim, and without end, employ;</span> -<span class="i0">He drew fantastic figures on the wall,</span> -<span class="i0">And gave some wild relation of them all;</span> -<span class="i0">With brutal shape he join’d the human face, <span class="linenum">430</span></span> -<span class="i0">And idiot smiles approved the motley race.</span> -<span class="i2">Harmless at length th’ unhappy man was found,</span> -<span class="i0">The spirit settled, but the reason drown’d;</span> -<span class="i0">And all the dreadful tempest died away,</span> -<span class="i0">To the dull stillness of the misty day.</span> -<span class="i2">And now his freedom he attain’d—if free,</span> -<span class="i0">The lost to reason, truth, and hope, can be;</span> -<span class="i0">His friends, or wearied with the charge, or sure</span> -<span class="i0">The harmless wretch was now beyond a cure,</span> -<span class="i0">Gave him to wander where he pleased, and find <span class="linenum">440</span></span> -<span class="i0">His own resources for the eager mind;</span> -<span class="i0">The playful children of the place he meets,</span> -<span class="i0">Playful with them he rambles through the streets;</span> -<span class="i0">In all they need, his stronger arm he lends,</span> -<span class="i0">And his lost mind to these approving friends.</span> -<span class="i2">That gentle maid, whom once the youth had loved,</span> -<span class="i0">Is now with mild religious pity moved;</span> -<span class="i0">Kindly she chides his boyish flights, while he</span> -<span class="i0">Will for a moment fix’d and pensive be;</span> -<span class="i0">And, as she trembling speaks, his lively eyes <span class="linenum">450</span></span> -<span class="i0">Explore her looks, he listens to her sighs;</span> -<span class="i0">Charm’d by her voice, th’ harmonious sounds invade</span> -<span class="i0">His clouded mind, and for a time persuade:</span> -<span class="i0">Like a pleased infant, who has newly caught</span> -<span class="i0">From the maternal glance a gleam of thought;</span> -<span class="i0">He stands enrapt, the half-known voice to hear,</span> -<span class="i0">And starts, half-conscious, at the falling tear.</span> -<span class="i2">Rarely from town, nor then unwatch’d, he goes,</span> -<span class="i0">In darker mood, as if to hide his woes;</span> -<span class="i0">Returning soon, he with impatience seeks <span class="linenum">460</span></span> -<span class="i0">His youthful friends, and shouts, and sings, and speaks;</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</a></span> -<span class="i0">Speaks a wild speech with action all as wild—</span> -<span class="i0">The children’s leader, and himself a child;</span> -<span class="i0">He spins their top, or, at their bidding, bends</span> -<span class="i0">His back, while o’er it leap his laughing friends;</span> -<span class="i0">Simple and weak, he acts the boy once more,</span> -<span class="i0">And heedless children call him Silly Shore.</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</a></span> -</div></div> - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> -<h3>TALE XII.</h3> -<p class="f110"><i>’SQUIRE THOMAS</i>;</p> -<p class="f90">OR,</p> -<p class="f110">THE PRECIPITATE CHOICE.</p> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poem2"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i6">Such smiling rogues as these,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Like rats, oft bite the holy cords in twain,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Too intrinsicate t’ unloose——<br /></span> -<span class="i29"><i>Lear</i>, Act II. Scene 2.<br /><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i2">My other self, my counsel’s consistory,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">My oracle, my prophet, ...<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I as a child will go by thy direction.<br /></span> -<span class="i24"><i>Richard III</i>. Act II. Scene 2.<br /><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i2">If I do not have pity [of] her, I’m a villain;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">if I do not love her, I am a Jew.<br /></span> -<span class="i13"><i>Much Ado about Nothing</i>, Act II. Scene 3.<br /><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Women are soft, mild, [pitiful and] flexible;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">[Thou stern,] obdurate, flinty, rough, remorseless.<br /></span> -<span class="i25">3 <i>Henry VI</i>. Act I. Scene 4.<br /><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">He must be told of it, and he shall; the office<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Becomes a woman best; I’ll take it upon me;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">If I prove honey-mouth’d, let my tongue blister.<br /></span> -<span class="i22"><i>Winter’s Tale</i>, Act II. Scene 2.<br /><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Disguise—I see thou art a wickedness.<br /></span> -<span class="i22"><i>Twelfth Night</i>, Act II. Scene 2.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</a></span> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="f120 break space-above2"><b>TALE XII.</b></p> -<p class="f110"><i>’SQUIRE THOMAS.</i></p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">’Squire Thomas flatter’d long a wealthy aunt,</span> -<span class="i0">Who left him all that she could give or grant:</span> -<span class="i0">Ten years he tried, with all his craft and skill,</span> -<span class="i0">To fix the sovereign lady’s varying will;</span> -<span class="i0">Ten years enduring at her board to sit,</span> -<span class="i0">He meekly listen’d to her tales and wit;</span> -<span class="i0">He took the meanest office man can take,</span> -<span class="i0">And his aunt’s vices for her money’s sake.</span> -<span class="i0">By many a threat’ning hint she waked his fear,</span> -<span class="i0">And he was pain’d to see a rival near; <span class="linenum">10</span></span> -<span class="i0">Yet all the taunts of her contemptuous pride</span> -<span class="i0">He bore, nor found his grov’ling spirit tried;</span> -<span class="i0">Nay, when she wish’d his parents to traduce,</span> -<span class="i0">Fawning he smiled, and justice call’d th’ abuse;</span> -<span class="i0">“They taught you nothing; are you not, at best,”,<span class="ws7"> }</span></span> -<span class="i0">Said the proud dame, “a trifler, and a jest?,<span class="ws11"> }</span></span> -<span class="i0">Confess you are a fool!”—he bow’d, and he confess’d. }</span> -<span class="i2">This vex’d him much, but could not always last:</span> -<span class="i0">The dame is buried, and the trial past.</span> -<span class="i2">There was a female, who had courted long <span class="linenum">20</span></span> -<span class="i0">Her cousin’s gifts, and deeply felt the wrong;</span> -<span class="i0">By a vain boy forbidden to attend</span> -<span class="i0">The private councils of her wealthy friend,</span> -<span class="i0">She vow’d revenge, nor should that crafty boy</span> -<span class="i0">In triumph undisturb’d his spoils enjoy;</span> -<span class="i0">He heard, he smiled, and when the will was read,</span> -<span class="i0">Kindly dismiss’d the kindred of the dead;</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</a></span> -<span class="i0">“The dear deceased,” he call’d her, and the crowd</span> -<span class="i0">Moved off with curses deep and threat’nings loud.</span> -<span class="i2">The youth retired, and, with a mind at ease, <span class="linenum">30</span></span> -<span class="i0">Found he was rich, and fancied he must please.</span> -<span class="i0">He might have pleased, and to his comfort found</span> -<span class="i0">The wife he wish’d, if he had sought around;</span> -<span class="i0">For there were lasses of his own degree,</span> -<span class="i0">With no more hatred to the state than he;</span> -<span class="i0">But he had courted spleen and age so long,</span> -<span class="i0">His heart refused to woo the fair and young;</span> -<span class="i0">So long attended on caprice and whim,</span> -<span class="i0">He thought attention now was due to him;</span> -<span class="i0">And as his flattery pleased the wealthy dame, <span class="linenum">40</span></span> -<span class="i0">Heir to the wealth he might the flattery claim;</span> -<span class="i0">But this the fair with one accord denied,</span> -<span class="i0">Nor waved for man’s caprice the sex’s pride.</span> -<span class="i0">There is a season when to them is due</span> -<span class="i0">Worship and awe, and they will claim it too:</span> -<span class="i0">“Fathers,” they cry, “long hold us in their chain,</span> -<span class="i0">Nay, tyrant brothers claim a right to reign;</span> -<span class="i0">Uncles and guardians we in turn obey,</span> -<span class="i0">And husbands rule with ever-during sway;</span> -<span class="i0">Short is the time when lovers at the feet <span class="linenum">50</span></span> -<span class="i0">Of beauty kneel, and own the slavery sweet;</span> -<span class="i0">And shall we this our triumph, this the aim</span> -<span class="i0">And boast of female power, forbear to claim?</span> -<span class="i0">No! we demand that homage, that respect,</span> -<span class="i0">Or the proud rebel punish and reject.”</span> -<span class="i2">Our hero, still too indolent, too nice</span> -<span class="i0">To pay for beauty the accustom’d price,</span> -<span class="i0">No less forbore t’ address the humbler maid,</span> -<span class="i0">Who might have yielded with the price unpaid;</span> -<span class="i0">But lived, himself to humour and to please, <span class="linenum">60</span></span> -<span class="i0">To count his money, and enjoy his ease.</span> -<span class="i2">It pleased a neighbouring ’squire to recommend</span> -<span class="i0">A faithful youth, as servant to his friend;</span> -<span class="i0">Nay, more than servant, whom he praised for parts</span> -<span class="i0">Ductile yet strong, and for the best of hearts;</span> -<span class="i0">One who might ease him in his small affairs,</span> -<span class="i0">With tenants, tradesmen, taxes, and repairs;</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</a></span> -<span class="i0">Answer his letters, look to all his dues,</span> -<span class="i0">And entertain him with discourse and news.</span> -<span class="i2">The ’squire believed, and found the trusted youth <span class="linenum">70</span></span> -<span class="i0">A very pattern for his care and truth;</span> -<span class="i0">Not for his virtues to be praised alone,</span> -<span class="i0">But for a modest mien and humble tone;</span> -<span class="i0">Assenting always, but as if he meant</span> -<span class="i0">Only to strength of reasons to assent:</span> -<span class="i0">For was he stubborn, and retain’d his doubt,</span> -<span class="i0">Till the more subtle ’squire had forced it out;</span> -<span class="i0">Nay, still was right, but he perceived that strong</span> -<span class="i0">And powerful minds could make the right the wrong.</span> -<span class="i2">When the ’squire’s thoughts on some fair damsel dwelt, <span class="linenum">80</span></span> -<span class="i0">The faithful friend his apprehensions felt;</span> -<span class="i0">It would rejoice his faithful heart to find</span> -<span class="i0">A lady suited to his master’s mind;</span> -<span class="i0">But who deserved that master? who would prove</span> -<span class="i0">That hers was pure, uninterested love?</span> -<span class="i0">Although a servant, he would scorn to take</span> -<span class="i0">A countess, till she suffer’d for his sake;</span> -<span class="i0">Some tender spirit, humble, faithful, true,</span> -<span class="i0">Such, my dear master! must be sought for you.</span> -<span class="i2">Six months had pass’d, and not a lady seen, <span class="linenum">90</span></span> -<span class="i0">With just this love, ’twixt fifty and fifteen;</span> -<span class="i0">All seem’d his doctrine or his pride to shun,</span> -<span class="i0">All would be woo’d, before they would be won;</span> -<span class="i0">When the chance naming of a race and fair</span> -<span class="i0">Our ’squire disposed to take his pleasure there.</span> -<span class="i0">The friend profess’d, “although he first began</span> -<span class="i0">To hint the thing, it seem’d a thoughtless plan:</span> -<span class="i0">The roads, he fear’d, were foul, the days were short,</span> -<span class="i0">The village far, and yet there might be sport.”</span> -<span class="i2">“What! you of roads and starless nights afraid? <span class="linenum">100</span></span> -<span class="i0">You think to govern! you to be obey’d!”</span> -<span class="i0">Smiling he spoke; the humble friend declared</span> -<span class="i0">His soul’s obedience, and to go prepared.</span> -<span class="i2">The place was distant, but with great delight</span> -<span class="i0">They saw a race, and hail’d the glorious sight:</span> -<span class="i0">The ’squire exulted, and declared the ride</span> -<span class="i0">Had amply paid, and he was satisfied.</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</a></span> -<span class="i0">They gazed, they feasted, and, in happy mood,</span> -<span class="i0">Homeward return’d, and hastening as they rode;</span> -<span class="i0">For short the day, and sudden was the change <span class="linenum">110</span></span> -<span class="i0">From light to darkness, and the way was strange;</span> -<span class="i0">Our hero soon grew peevish, then distress’d;</span> -<span class="i0">He dreaded darkness, and he sigh’d for rest:</span> -<span class="i0">Going, they pass’d a village; but, alas!</span> -<span class="i0">Returning saw no village to repass;</span> -<span class="i0">The ’squire remember’d too a noble hall,</span> -<span class="i0">Large as a church, and whiter than its wall:</span> -<span class="i0">This he had noticed as they rode along,</span> -<span class="i0">And justly reason’d that their road was wrong.</span> -<span class="i0">George, full of awe, was modest in reply— <span class="linenum">120</span></span> -<span class="i0">“The fault was his, ’twas folly to deny;</span> -<span class="i0">And of his master’s safety were he sure,</span> -<span class="i0">There was no grievance he would not endure.”</span> -<span class="i0">This made his peace with the relenting ’squire,</span> -<span class="i0">Whose thoughts yet dwelt on supper and a fire;</span> -<span class="i0">When, as they reach’d a long and pleasant green,</span> -<span class="i0">Dwellings of men, and next a man, were seen.</span> -<span class="i2">“My friend,” said George, “to travellers astray</span> -<span class="i0">Point out an inn, and guide us on the way.”</span> -<span class="i2">The man look’d up; “Surprising! can it be <span class="linenum">130</span></span> -<span class="i0">My master’s son? as I’m alive, ’tis he.”</span> -<span class="i2">“How! Robin,” George replied, “and are we near</span> -<span class="i0">My father’s house? how strangely things appear!—</span> -<span class="i0">Dear sir, though wanderers, we at last are right:</span> -<span class="i0">Let us proceed, and glad my father’s sight;</span> -<span class="i0">We shall at least be fairly lodged and fed,</span> -<span class="i0">I can ensure a supper and a bed;</span> -<span class="i0">Let us this night, as one of pleasure date,</span> -<span class="i0">And of surprise: it is an act of fate.”</span> -<span class="i0">“Go on,” the ’squire in happy temper cried; <span class="linenum">140</span></span> -<span class="i0">“I like such blunder! I approve such guide.”</span> -<span class="i2">They ride, they halt; the farmer comes in haste;</span> -<span class="i0">Then tells his wife how much their house is graced;</span> -<span class="i0">They bless the chance, they praise the lucky son,</span> -<span class="i0">That caused the error.—Nay! it was not one,</span> -<span class="i0">But their good fortune—Cheerful grew the ’squire,</span> -<span class="i0">Who found dependants, flattery, wine, and fire;</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</a></span> -<span class="i0">He heard the jack turn round; the busy dame,<span class="ws13">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Produced her damask; and with supper came,<span class="ws13">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">The daughter, dress’d with care, and full of maiden-shame. }<span class="linenum">150</span></span> -<span class="i2">Surprised, our hero saw the air and dress,</span> -<span class="i0">And strove his admiration to express;</span> -<span class="i0">Nay! felt it too—for Harriot was, in truth,</span> -<span class="i0">A tall fair beauty in the bloom of youth;</span> -<span class="i0">And, from the pleasure and surprise, a grace</span> -<span class="i0">Adorn’d the blooming damsel’s form and face;</span> -<span class="i0">Then too, such high respect and duty paid</span> -<span class="i0">By all—such silent reverence in the maid;</span> -<span class="i0">Vent’ring with caution, yet with haste, a glance;</span> -<span class="i0">Loth to retire, yet trembling to advance, <span class="linenum">160</span></span> -<span class="i0">Appear’d the nymph, and in her gentle guest</span> -<span class="i0">Stirr’d soft emotions till the hour of rest.</span> -<span class="i0">Sweet was his sleep, and in the morn again</span> -<span class="i0">He felt a mixture of delight and pain:</span> -<span class="i0">“How fair, how gentle,” said the ’squire, “how meek,</span> -<span class="i0">And yet how sprightly, when disposed to speak!</span> -<span class="i0">Nature has bless’d her form, and Heaven her mind,</span> -<span class="i0">But in her favours Fortune is unkind;</span> -<span class="i0">Poor is the maid—nay, poor she cannot prove</span> -<span class="i0">Who is enrich’d with beauty, worth, and love.” <span class="linenum">170</span></span> -<span class="i2">The ’squire arose, with no precise intent</span> -<span class="i0">To go or stay—uncertain what he meant.</span> -<span class="i0">He moved to part—they begg’d him first to dine;</span> -<span class="i0">And who could then escape from love and wine?</span> -<span class="i0">As came the night, more charming grew the fair,</span> -<span class="i0">And seem’d to watch him with a two-fold care:</span> -<span class="i0">On the third morn, resolving not to stay,</span> -<span class="i0">Though urged by love, he bravely rode away.</span> -<span class="i2">Arrived at home, three pensive days he gave</span> -<span class="i0">To feelings fond and meditations grave; <span class="linenum">180</span></span> -<span class="i0">Lovely she was, and, if he did not err,</span> -<span class="i0">As fond of him as his fond heart of her;</span> -<span class="i0">Still he delay’d, unable to decide</span> -<span class="i0">Which was the master-passion, love or pride:</span> -<span class="i0">He sometimes wonder’d how his friend could make,</span> -<span class="i0">And then exulted in, the night’s mistake;</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</a></span> -<span class="i0">Had she but fortune, “doubtless then,” he cried,</span> -<span class="i0">“Some happier man had won the wealthy bride.”</span> -<span class="i2">While thus he hung in balance, now inclined</span> -<span class="i0">To change his state, and then to change his mind— <span class="linenum">190</span></span> -<span class="i0">That careless George dropp’d idly on the ground</span> -<span class="i0">A letter, which his crafty master found;</span> -<span class="i0">The stupid youth confess’d his fault, and pray’d</span> -<span class="i0">The generous ’squire to spare a gentle maid;</span> -<span class="i0">Of whom her tender mother, full of fears,</span> -<span class="i0">Had written much—“She caught her oft in tears,</span> -<span class="i0">For ever thinking on a youth above</span> -<span class="i0">Her humble fortune—still she own’d not love;</span> -<span class="i0">Nor can define, dear girl! the cherish’d pain,</span> -<span class="i0">But would rejoice to see the cause again. <span class="linenum">200</span></span> -<span class="i0">That neighbouring youth, whom she endured before,</span> -<span class="i0">She now rejects, and will behold no more;</span> -<span class="i0">Raised by her passion, she no longer stoops</span> -<span class="i0">To her own equals, but she pines and droops:</span> -<span class="i0">Like to a lily, on whose sweets the sun</span> -<span class="i0">Has withering gazed—she saw and was undone.</span> -<span class="i0">His wealth allured her not—nor was she moved</span> -<span class="i0">By his superior state, himself she loved:</span> -<span class="i0">So mild, so good, so gracious, so genteel—<span class="ws12">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">But spare your sister, and her love conceal;,<span class="ws12">}</span><span class="linenum">210</span></span> -<span class="i0">We must the fault forgive, since she the pain must feel.” }</span> -<span class="i2">“Fault!” said the ’squire, “there’s coarseness in the mind</span> -<span class="i0">That thus conceives of feelings so refined;</span> -<span class="i0">Here end my doubts, nor blame yourself, my friend,</span> -<span class="i0">Fate made you careless—here my doubts have end.”</span> -<span class="i2">The way is plain before us—there is now</span> -<span class="i0">The lover’s visit first, and then the vow</span> -<span class="i0">Mutual and fond, the marriage-rite, the bride</span> -<span class="i0">Brought to her home with all a husband’s pride;</span> -<span class="i0">The ’squire receives the prize his merits won, <span class="linenum">220</span></span> -<span class="i0">And the glad parents leave the patron-son.</span> -<span class="i2">But in short time he saw with much surprise, <span class="ws10">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">First gloom, then grief, and then resentment rise, <span class="ws9">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">From proud, commanding frowns and anger-darting eyes: }</span> -<span class="i0">“Is there in Harriot’s humble mind this fire,</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</a></span> -<span class="i0">This fierce impatience?” ask’d the puzzled ’squire:</span> -<span class="i0">“Has marriage changed her? or the mask she wore</span> -<span class="i0">Has she thrown by, and is herself once more?”</span> -<span class="i2">Hour after hour, when clouds on clouds appear,</span> -<span class="i0">Dark and more dark, we know the tempest near; <span class="linenum">230</span></span> -<span class="i0">And thus the frowning brow, the restless form,</span> -<span class="i0">And threat’ning glance, forerun domestic storm:</span> -<span class="i0">So read the husband, and, with troubled mind,</span> -<span class="i0">Reveal’d his fears—“My love, I hope you find</span> -<span class="i0">All here is pleasant—but I must confess<span class="ws12">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">You seem offended, or in some distress;<span class="ws12">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Explain the grief you feel, and leave me to redress.”  }</span> -<span class="i2">“Leave it to you?” replied the nymph—“indeed!</span> -<span class="i0">What—to the cause from whence the ills proceed?</span> -<span class="i0">Good Heaven! to take me from a place, where I <span class="linenum">240</span></span> -<span class="i0">Had every comfort underneath the sky;</span> -<span class="i0">And then immure me in a gloomy place,</span> -<span class="i0">With the grim monsters of your ugly race,</span> -<span class="i0">That from their canvas staring, make me dread</span> -<span class="i0">Through the dark chambers where they hang to tread!</span> -<span class="i0">No friend nor neighbour comes to give that joy,</span> -<span class="i0">Which all things here must banish or destroy:</span> -<span class="i0">Where is the promised coach? the pleasant ride?</span> -<span class="i0">Oh! what a fortune has a farmer’s bride!</span> -<span class="i0">Your sordid pride has placed me just above <span class="linenum">250</span></span> -<span class="i0">Your hired domestics—and what pays me? love!</span> -<span class="i0">A selfish fondness I endure each hour,</span> -<span class="i0">And share unwitness’d pomp, unenvied power;</span> -<span class="i0">I hear your folly, smile at your parade,</span> -<span class="i0">And see your favourite dishes duly made;</span> -<span class="i0">Then am I richly dress’d for you t’ admire,</span> -<span class="i0">Such is my duty and my lord’s desire;</span> -<span class="i0">Is this a life for youth, for health, for joy?</span> -<span class="i0">Are these my duties—this my base employ?</span> -<span class="i0">No! to my father’s house will I repair, <span class="linenum">260</span></span> -<span class="i0">And make your idle wealth support me there;</span> -<span class="i0">Was it your wish to have an humble bride</span> -<span class="i0">For bondage thankful? Curse upon your pride!</span> -<span class="i0">Was it a slave you wanted? You shall see,</span> -<span class="i0">That, if not happy, I at least am free;</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</a></span> -<span class="i0">Well, sir, your answer!”—silent stood the ’squire,</span> -<span class="i0">As looks a miser at his house on fire;</span> -<span class="i0">Where all he deems is vanish’d in that flame,</span> -<span class="i0">Swept from the earth his substance and his name:</span> -<span class="i0">So, lost to every promised joy of life, <span class="linenum">270</span></span> -<span class="i0">Our ’squire stood gaping at his angry wife;—</span> -<span class="i0">His fate, his ruin, where he saw it vain</span> -<span class="i0">To hope for peace, pray, threaten, or complain;</span> -<span class="i0">And thus, betwixt his wonder at the ill</span> -<span class="i0">And his despair—there stood he gaping still.</span> -<span class="i2">“Your answer, sir—shall I depart a spot</span> -<span class="i0">I thus detest?”—“Oh, miserable lot!”</span> -<span class="i0">Exclaim’d the man; “Go, serpent! nor remain</span> -<span class="i0">To sharpen wo by insult and disdain:</span> -<span class="i0">A nest of harpies was I doom’d to meet; <span class="linenum">280</span></span> -<span class="i0">What plots, what combinations of deceit!</span> -<span class="i0">I see it now—all plann’d, design’d, contrived;</span> -<span class="i0">Served by that villain—by this fury wived—</span> -<span class="i0">What fate is mine! What wisdom, virtue, truth,</span> -<span class="i0">Can stand, if dæmons set their traps for youth?</span> -<span class="i0">He lose his way! vile dog! he cannot lose</span> -<span class="i0">The way a villain through his life pursues;</span> -<span class="i0">And thou, deceiver! thou, afraid to move,</span> -<span class="i0">And hiding close the serpent in the dove!</span> -<span class="i0">I saw—but, fated to endure disgrace, <span class="linenum">290</span></span> -<span class="i0">Unheeding saw, the fury in thy face;</span> -<span class="i0">And call’d it spirit—Oh! I might have found</span> -<span class="i0">Fraud and imposture—all the kindred round!</span> -<span class="i0">A nest of vipers”——</span> -<span class="i19">“Sir, I’ll not admit</span> -<span class="i0">These wild effusions of your angry wit:</span> -<span class="i0">Have you that value, that we all should use</span> -<span class="i0">Such mighty arts for such important views?</span> -<span class="i0">Are you such prize—and is my state so fair,</span> -<span class="i0">That they should sell their souls to get me there?</span> -<span class="i0">Think you that we alone our thoughts disguise?<span class="ws9">}</span><span class="linenum">300</span></span> -<span class="i0">When in pursuit of some contended prize, <span class="ws13">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Mask we alone the heart, and soothe whom we despise? }</span> -<span class="i0">Speak you of craft and subtle schemes, who know</span> -<span class="i0">That all your wealth you to deception owe;</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</a></span> -<span class="i0">Who play’d for ten dull years a scoundrel-part,</span> -<span class="i0">To worm yourself into a widow’s heart?</span> -<span class="i0">Now, when you guarded, with superior skill,</span> -<span class="i0">That lady’s closet, and preserved her will,</span> -<span class="i0">Blind in your craft, you saw not one of those</span> -<span class="i0">Opposed by you might you in turn oppose; <span class="linenum">310</span></span> -<span class="i0">Or watch your motions, and by art obtain</span> -<span class="i0">Share of that wealth you gave your peace to gain?</span> -<span class="i0">Did conscience never”——</span> -<span class="i23">“Cease, Tormentor, cease—</span> -<span class="i0">Or reach me poison—let me rest in peace!”</span> -<span class="i2">“Agreed—but hear me—let the truth appear”—</span> -<span class="i0">“Then state your purpose—I’ll be calm and hear”—</span> -<span class="i0">“Know then, this wealth, sole object of your care,</span> -<span class="i0">I had some right, without your hand, to share;</span> -<span class="i0">My mother’s claim was just—but soon she saw</span> -<span class="i0">Your power, compell’d, insulted, to withdraw: <span class="linenum">320</span></span> -<span class="i0">’Twas then my father, in his anger, swore</span> -<span class="i0">You should divide the fortune, or restore;</span> -<span class="i0">Long we debated—and you find me now</span> -<span class="i0">Heroic victim to a father’s vow;</span> -<span class="i0">Like Jephtha’s daughter, but in different state,</span> -<span class="i0">And both decreed to mourn our early fate;</span> -<span class="i0">Hence was my brother servant to your pride,</span> -<span class="i0">Vengeance made him your slave—and me your bride.</span> -<span class="i0">Now all is known—a dreadful price I pay</span> -<span class="i0">For our revenge—but still we have our day; <span class="linenum">330</span></span> -<span class="i0">All that you love you must with others share,</span> -<span class="i0">Or all you dread from their resentment dare!</span> -<span class="i0">Yet terms I offer—let contention cease:</span> -<span class="i0">Divide the spoil, and let us part in peace.”</span> -<span class="i2">Our hero trembling heard—he sat—he rose—</span> -<span class="i0">Nor could his motions nor his mind compose;</span> -<span class="i0">He paced the room—and, stalking to her side,<span class="ws8">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Gazed on the face of his undaunted bride; <span class="ws11">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">And nothing there but scorn and calm aversion spied. }</span> -<span class="i0">He would have vengeance, yet he fear’d the law: <span class="linenum">340</span></span> -<span class="i0">Her friends would threaten, and their power he saw;</span> -<span class="i0">“Then let her go;”—but oh! a mighty sum</span> -<span class="i0">Would that demand, since he had let her come;</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</a></span> -<span class="i0">Nor from his sorrows could he find redress,</span> -<span class="i0">Save that which led him to a like distress,</span> -<span class="i0">And all his ease was in his wife to see</span> -<span class="i0">A wretch as anxious and distress’d as he.</span> -<span class="i0">Her strongest wish, the fortune to divide</span> -<span class="i0">And part in peace, his avarice denied;</span> -<span class="i0">And thus it happen’d, as in all deceit, <span class="linenum">350</span></span> -<span class="i0">The cheater found the evil of the cheat;</span> -<span class="i0">The husband grieved—nor was the wife at rest;</span> -<span class="i0">Him she could vex, and he could her molest;</span> -<span class="i0">She could his passion into frenzy raise,</span> -<span class="i0">But, when the fire was kindled, fear’d the blaze:</span> -<span class="i0">As much they studied, so in time they found</span> -<span class="i0">The easiest way to give the deepest wound;</span> -<span class="i0">But then, like fencers, they were equal still,</span> -<span class="i0">Both lost in danger what they gain’d in skill;</span> -<span class="i0">Each heart a keener kind of rancour gain’d, <span class="linenum">360</span></span> -<span class="i0">And paining more, was more severely pain’d;</span> -<span class="i0">And thus by both were equal vengeance dealt,</span> -<span class="i0">And both the anguish they inflicted felt.</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</a></span> -</div></div> - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> -<h3>TALE XIII.</h3> -<p class="f110"><i>JESSE AND COLIN.</i></p> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poem2"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i2">Then she plots, then she ruminates, then she devises; and what they<br /></span> -<span class="i0">think in their hearts they may effect, they will break their hearts but<br /></span> -<span class="i0">they will effect.<br /></span> -<span class="i20"><i>Merry Wives of Windsor</i>, Act II. Scene 2.<br /><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i2">She hath spoken that she should not, I am sure of that; Heaven knows<br /></span> -<span class="i0">what she hath known.<br /></span> -<span class="i32"><i>Macbeth</i>, Act V. Scene 1.<br /><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Our house is hell, and thou a merry devil.<br /></span> -<span class="i24"><i>Merchant of Venice</i>, Act II. Scene 3.<br /><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i2">And yet, for aught I see, they are as sick that surfeit of too much,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">as they that starve with nothing; it is no mean happiness, therefore,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">to be seated in the mean.<br /></span> -<span class="i24"><i>Merchant of Venice</i>, Act I. Scene 2.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</a></span> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="f120 break space-above2"><b>TALE XIII.</b></p> -<p class="f110"><i>JESSE AND COLIN.</i></p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i2">A vicar died, and left his daughter poor—</span> -<span class="i0">It hurt her not, she was not rich before:</span> -<span class="i0">Her humble share of worldly goods she sold,</span> -<span class="i0">Paid every debt, and then her fortune told;</span> -<span class="i0">And found, with youth and beauty, hope and health,</span> -<span class="i0">Two hundred guineas was her worldly wealth;</span> -<span class="i0">It then remain’d to choose her path in life,</span> -<span class="i0">And first, said Jesse, “Shall I be a wife?—</span> -<span class="i0">Colin is mild and civil, kind and just,</span> -<span class="i0">I know his love, his temper I can trust; <span class="linenum">10</span></span> -<span class="i0">But small his farm, it asks perpetual care,</span> -<span class="i0">And we must toil as well as trouble share.</span> -<span class="i0">True, he was taught in all the gentle arts</span> -<span class="i0">That raise the soul, and soften human hearts,</span> -<span class="i0">And boasts a parent, who deserves to shine</span> -<span class="i0">In higher class, and I could wish her mine;</span> -<span class="i0">Nor wants he will his station to improve,</span> -<span class="i0">A just ambition waked by faithful love;—</span> -<span class="i0">Still is he poor—and here my father’s friend</span> -<span class="i0">Deigns for his daughter, as her own, to send; <span class="linenum">20</span></span> -<span class="i0">A worthy lady, who it seems has known</span> -<span class="i0">A world of griefs and troubles of her own.</span> -<span class="i0">I was an infant, when she came, a guest</span> -<span class="i0">Beneath my father’s humble roof to rest;</span> -<span class="i0">Her kindred all unfeeling, vast her woes;</span> -<span class="i0">Such her complaint, and there she found repose;</span> -<span class="i0">Enrich’d by fortune, now she nobly lives,</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</a></span> -<span class="i0">And nobly, from the blest abundance, gives;</span> -<span class="i0">The grief, the want of human life, she knows,</span> -<span class="i0">And comfort there and here relief bestows; <span class="linenum">30</span></span> -<span class="i0">But are they not dependants?—Foolish pride!</span> -<span class="i0">Am I not honour’d by such friend and guide?</span> -<span class="i0">Have I a home,” (here Jesse dropp’d a tear,)</span> -<span class="i0">“Or friend beside?”—A faithful friend was near.</span> -<span class="i2">Now Colin came, at length resolved to lay</span> -<span class="i0">His heart before her and to urge her stay;</span> -<span class="i0">True, his own plough the gentle Colin drove,</span> -<span class="i0">An humble farmer with aspiring love;</span> -<span class="i0">Who, urged by passion, never dared till now,</span> -<span class="i0">Thus urged by fears, his trembling hopes avow. <span class="linenum">40</span></span> -<span class="i0">Her father’s glebe he managed; every year</span> -<span class="i0">The grateful vicar held the youth more dear;</span> -<span class="i0">He saw indeed the prize in Colin’s view,</span> -<span class="i0">And wish’d his Jesse with a man so true;</span> -<span class="i0">Timid as true, he urged with anxious air</span> -<span class="i0">His tender hope, and made the trembling prayer;</span> -<span class="i0">When Jesse saw, nor could with coldness see,</span> -<span class="i0">Such fond respect, such tried sincerity,</span> -<span class="i0">Grateful for favours to her father dealt,</span> -<span class="i0">She more than grateful for his passion felt; <span class="linenum">50</span></span> -<span class="i0">Nor could she frown on one so good and kind,</span> -<span class="i0">Yet fear’d to smile, and was unfix’d in mind;</span> -<span class="i0">But prudence placed the female friend in view—</span> -<span class="i0">What might not one so rich and grateful do?</span> -<span class="i0">So lately, too, the good old vicar died,<span class="ws8">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">His faithful daughter must not cast aside<span class="ws6">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">The signs of filial grief, and be a ready bride: }</span> -<span class="i0">Thus, led by prudence, to the lady’s seat</span> -<span class="i0">The village-beauty purposed to retreat;</span> -<span class="i0">But, as in hard-fought fields the victor knows <span class="linenum">60</span></span> -<span class="i0">What to the vanquish’d he, in honour, owes,</span> -<span class="i0">So, in this conquest over powerful love,</span> -<span class="i0">Prudence resolved a generous foe to prove;</span> -<span class="i0">And Jesse felt a mingled fear and pain</span> -<span class="i0">In her dismission of a faithful swain,</span> -<span class="i0">Gave her kind thanks, and when she saw his wo,</span> -<span class="i0">Kindly betray’d that she was loth to go.</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</a></span> -<span class="i0">But would she promise, if abroad she met<span class="ws13">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">A frowning world, she would remember yet<span class="ws11">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">“Where dwelt a friend?”—“That could she not forget.” }</span> -<span class="i0">And thus they parted; but each faithful heart <span class="linenum">71</span></span> -<span class="i0">Felt the compulsion, and refused to part.</span> -<span class="i2">Now by the morning mail the timid maid</span> -<span class="i0">Was to that kind and wealthy dame convey’d;</span> -<span class="i0">Whose invitation, when her father died,</span> -<span class="i0">Jesse as comfort to her heart applied.</span> -<span class="i0">She knew the days her generous friend had seen—</span> -<span class="i0">As wife and widow, evil days had been;</span> -<span class="i0">She married early, and for half her life</span> -<span class="i0">Was an insulted and forsaken wife; <span class="linenum">80</span></span> -<span class="i0">Widow’d and poor, her angry father gave,</span> -<span class="i0">Mix’d with reproach, the pittance of a slave;</span> -<span class="i0">Forgetful brothers pass’d her, but she knew</span> -<span class="i0">Her humbler friends, and to their home withdrew;</span> -<span class="i0">The good old vicar to her sire applied</span> -<span class="i0">For help, and help’d her when her sire denied;</span> -<span class="i0">When in few years death stalk’d through bower and hall,</span> -<span class="i0">Sires, sons, and sons of sons, were buried all;</span> -<span class="i0">She then abounded, and had wealth to spare</span> -<span class="i0">For softening grief she once was doom’d to share; <span class="linenum">90</span></span> -<span class="i0">Thus train’d in misery’s school, and taught to feel,</span> -<span class="i0">She would rejoice an orphan’s woes to heal.</span> -<span class="i0">So Jesse thought, who look’d within her breast,</span> -<span class="i0">And thence conceived how bounteous minds are bless’d.</span> -<span class="i2">From her vast mansion look’d the lady down</span> -<span class="i0">On humbler buildings of a busy town;</span> -<span class="i0">Thence came her friends of either sex, and all</span> -<span class="i0">With whom she lived on terms reciprocal.</span> -<span class="i0">They pass’d the hours with their accustom’d ease,</span> -<span class="i0">As guests inclined, but not compell’d to please; <span class="linenum">100</span></span> -<span class="i0">But there were others in the mansion found,</span> -<span class="i0">For office chosen, and by duties bound;</span> -<span class="i0">Three female rivals, each of power possess’d,</span> -<span class="i0">Th’ attendant-maid, poor friend, and kindred-guest.</span> -<span class="i2">To these came Jesse, as a seaman thrown</span> -<span class="i0">By the rude storm upon a coast unknown:</span> -<span class="i0">The view was flattering, civil seem’d the race,</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</a></span> -<span class="i0">But all unknown the dangers of the place.</span> -<span class="i2">Few hours had pass’d, when, from attendants freed,</span> -<span class="i0">The lady utter’d—“This is kind indeed; <span class="linenum">110</span></span> -<span class="i0">Believe me, love! that I for one like you</span> -<span class="i0">Have daily pray’d, a friend discreet and true;</span> -<span class="i0">Oh! wonder not that I on you depend,</span> -<span class="i0">You are mine own hereditary friend:</span> -<span class="i0">Hearken, my Jesse, never can I trust</span> -<span class="i0">Beings ungrateful, selfish, and unjust;</span> -<span class="i0">But you are present, and my load of care</span> -<span class="i0">Your love will serve to lighten and to share.</span> -<span class="i0">Come near me, Jesse—let not those below</span> -<span class="i0">Of my reliance on your friendship know; <span class="linenum">120</span></span> -<span class="i0">Look as they look, be in their freedoms free—</span> -<span class="i0">But all they say do you convey to me.”</span> -<span class="i2">Here Jesse’s thoughts to Colin’s cottage flew,</span> -<span class="i0">And with such speed she scarce their absence knew.</span> -<span class="i2">“Jane loves her mistress, and should she depart,</span> -<span class="i0">I lose her service, and she breaks her heart;</span> -<span class="i0">My ways and wishes, looks and thoughts she knows,</span> -<span class="i0">And duteous care by close attention shows;</span> -<span class="i0">But is she faithful? in temptation strong?</span> -<span class="i0">Will she not wrong me? ah! I fear the wrong. <span class="linenum">130</span></span> -<span class="i0">Your father loved me; now, in time of need,</span> -<span class="i0">Watch for my good, and to his place succeed.</span> -<span class="i2">“Blood doesn’t bind—that girl, who every day</span> -<span class="i0">Eats of my bread, would wish my life away;</span> -<span class="i0">I am her <i>dear relation</i>, and she thinks</span> -<span class="i0">To make her fortune, an ambitious minx!</span> -<span class="i0">She only courts me for the prospect’s sake,</span> -<span class="i0">Because she knows I have a will to make;</span> -<span class="i0">Yes, love! my will delay’d, I know not how—</span> -<span class="i0">But you are here, and I will make it now. <span class="linenum">140</span></span> -<span class="i2">“That idle creature, keep her in your view,</span> -<span class="i0">See what she does, what she desires to do;</span> -<span class="i0">On her young mind may artful villains prey,</span> -<span class="i0">And to my plate and jewels find a way;</span> -<span class="i0">A pleasant humour has the girl; her smile</span> -<span class="i0">And cheerful manner tedious hours beguile;</span> -<span class="i0">But well observe her, ever near her be,</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</a></span> -<span class="i0">Close in your thoughts, in your professions free.</span> -<span class="i2">“Again, my Jesse, hear what I advise,</span> -<span class="i0">And watch a woman ever in disguise; <span class="linenum">150</span></span> -<span class="i0">Issop, that widow, serious, subtle, sly—</span> -<span class="i0">But what of this?—I must have company.</span> -<span class="i0">She markets for me, and although she makes</span> -<span class="i0">Profit, no doubt, of all she undertakes,</span> -<span class="i0">Yet she is one I can to all produce,</span> -<span class="i0">And all her talents are in daily use;</span> -<span class="i0">Deprived of her, I may another find</span> -<span class="i0">As sly and selfish, with a weaker mind:</span> -<span class="i0">But never trust her, she is full of art,</span> -<span class="i0">And worms herself into the closest heart; <span class="linenum">160</span></span> -<span class="i0">Seem then, I pray you, careless in her sight,</span> -<span class="i0">Nor let her know, my love, how we unite.</span> -<span class="i2">“Do, my good Jesse, cast a view around,</span> -<span class="i0">And let no wrong within my house be found;</span> -<span class="i0">That girl associates with—I know not who</span> -<span class="i0">Are her companions, nor what ill they do;</span> -<span class="i0">’Tis then the widow plans, ’tis then she tries</span> -<span class="i0">Her various arts and schemes for fresh supplies;</span> -<span class="i0">’Tis then, if ever, Jane her duty quits,</span> -<span class="i0">And, whom I know not, favours and admits: <span class="linenum">170</span></span> -<span class="i0">Oh! watch their movements all; for me ’tis hard,</span> -<span class="i0">Indeed is vain, but you may keep a guard;</span> -<span class="i0">And I, when none your watchful glance deceive,</span> -<span class="i0">May make my will, and think what I shall leave.”</span> -<span class="i2">Jesse, with fear, disgust, alarm, surprise,</span> -<span class="i0">Heard of these duties for her ears and eyes;</span> -<span class="i0">Heard by what service she must gain her bread,</span> -<span class="i0">And went with scorn and sorrow to her bed.</span> -<span class="i2">Jane was a servant fitted for her place,</span> -<span class="i0">Experienced, cunning, fraudful, selfish, base; <span class="linenum">180</span></span> -<span class="i0">Skill’d in those mean, humiliating arts</span> -<span class="i0">That make their way to proud and selfish hearts;</span> -<span class="i0">By instinct taught, she felt an awe, a fear,</span> -<span class="i0">For Jesse’s upright, simple character;</span> -<span class="i0">Whom with gross flattery she awhile assail’d,</span> -<span class="i0">And then beheld with hatred when it fail’d;</span> -<span class="i0">Yet, trying still upon her mind for hold,</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</a></span> -<span class="i0">She all the secrets of the mansion told;</span> -<span class="i0">And to invite an equal trust she drew</span> -<span class="i0">Of every mind a bold and rapid view; <span class="linenum">190</span></span> -<span class="i0">But on the widow’d friend with deep disdain,</span> -<span class="i0">And rancorous envy, dwelt the treacherous Jane.—</span> -<span class="i0">In vain such arts; without deceit or pride,</span> -<span class="i0">With a just taste and feeling for her guide,</span> -<span class="i0">From all contagion Jesse kept apart,</span> -<span class="i0">Free in her manners, guarded in her heart.</span> -<span class="i2">Jesse one morn was thoughtful, and her sigh</span> -<span class="i0">The widow heard as she was passing by;</span> -<span class="i0">And—“Well!” she said, “is that some distant swain,</span> -<span class="i0">Or aught with us, that gives your bosom pain? <span class="linenum">200</span></span> -<span class="i0">Come, we are fellow-sufferers, slaves in thrall,</span> -<span class="i0">And tasks and griefs are common to us all;</span> -<span class="i0">Think not my frankness strange: they love to paint</span> -<span class="i0">Their state with freedom, who endure restraint;</span> -<span class="i0">And there is something in that speaking eye</span> -<span class="i0">And sober mien, that prove I may rely.</span> -<span class="i0">You came a stranger; to my words attend,</span> -<span class="i0">Accept my offer, and you find a friend;</span> -<span class="i0">It is a labyrinth in which you stray,</span> -<span class="i0">Come, hold my clue, and I will lead the way. <span class="linenum">210</span></span> -<span class="i2">“Good Heav’n! that one so jealous, envious, base,</span> -<span class="i0">Should be the mistress of so sweet a place;</span> -<span class="i0">She, who so long herself was low and poor,</span> -<span class="i0">Now broods suspicious on her useless store;</span> -<span class="i0">She loves to see us abject, loves to deal</span> -<span class="i0">Her insult round, and then pretends to feel;</span> -<span class="i0">Prepare to cast all dignity aside,</span> -<span class="i0">For know your talents will be quickly tried;</span> -<span class="i0">Nor think, from favours past, a friend to gain,</span> -<span class="i0">’Tis but by duties we our posts maintain: <span class="linenum">220</span></span> -<span class="i0">I read her novels, gossip through the town,</span> -<span class="i0">And daily go, for idle stories, down;</span> -<span class="i0">I cheapen all she buys, and bear the curse</span> -<span class="i0">Of honest tradesmen for my niggard-purse;</span> -<span class="i0">And, when for her this meanness I display,</span> -<span class="i0">She cries, ’I heed not what I throw away;’</span> -<span class="i0">Of secret bargains I endure the shame,</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</a></span> -<span class="i0">And stake my credit for our fish and game;</span> -<span class="i0">Oft has she smiled to hear, ’her generous soul</span> -<span class="i0">Would gladly give, but stoops to my control’; <span class="linenum">230</span></span> -<span class="i0">Nay! I have heard her, when she chanced to come</span> -<span class="i0">Where I contended for a petty sum,</span> -<span class="i0">Affirm ’twas painful to behold such care,</span> -<span class="i0">‘But Issop’s nature is to pinch and spare:’</span> -<span class="i0">Thus all the meanness of the house is mine,</span> -<span class="i0">And my reward—to scorn her, and to dine.</span> -<span class="i2">“See next that giddy thing, with neither pride</span> -<span class="i0">To keep her safe, nor principle to guide:</span> -<span class="i0">Poor, idle, simple flirt! as sure as fate</span> -<span class="i0">Her maiden-fame will have an early date. <span class="linenum">240</span></span> -<span class="i0">Of her beware; for all who live below</span> -<span class="i0">Have faults they wish not all the world to know;</span> -<span class="i0">And she is fond of listening, full of doubt,</span> -<span class="i0">And stoops to guilt to find an error out.</span> -<span class="i2">“And now once more observe the artful maid,</span> -<span class="i0">A lying, prying, jilting, thievish jade;</span> -<span class="i0">I think, my love, you would not condescend</span> -<span class="i0">To call a low, illiterate girl your friend;</span> -<span class="i0">But in our troubles we are apt, you know,</span> -<span class="i0">To lean on all who some compassion show; <span class="linenum">250</span></span> -<span class="i0">And she has flexile features, acting eyes,</span> -<span class="i0">And seems with every look to sympathise;</span> -<span class="i0">No mirror can a mortal’s grief express</span> -<span class="i0">With more precision, or can feel it less;</span> -<span class="i0">That proud, mean spirit, she by fawning courts,</span> -<span class="i0">By vulgar flattery, and by vile reports;</span> -<span class="i0">And by that proof she every instant gives</span> -<span class="i0">To one so mean, that yet a meaner lives.—</span> -<span class="i2">“Come, I have drawn the curtain, and you see</span> -<span class="i0">Your fellow-actors, all our company; <span class="linenum">260</span></span> -<span class="i0">Should you incline to throw reserve aside,</span> -<span class="i0">And in my judgment and my love confide,</span> -<span class="i0">I could some prospects open to your view,</span> -<span class="i0">That ask attention—and, till then, adieu.”</span> -<span class="i2">“Farewell!” said Jesse, hastening to her room,</span> -<span class="i0">Where all she saw within, without, was gloom:</span> -<span class="i0">Confused, perplex’d, she pass’d a dreary hour,</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</a></span> -<span class="i0">Before her reason could exert its power;</span> -<span class="i0">To her all seem’d mysterious, all allied</span> -<span class="i0">To avarice, meanness, folly, craft, and pride; <span class="linenum">270</span></span> -<span class="i0">Wearied with thought, she breathed the garden’s air,</span> -<span class="i0">Then came the laughing lass, and join’d her there.</span> -<span class="i2">“My sweetest friend has dwelt with us a week,</span> -<span class="i0">And does she love us? be sincere and speak;</span> -<span class="i0">My aunt you cannot—Lord! how I should hate</span> -<span class="i0">To be like her, all misery and state;</span> -<span class="i0">Proud, and yet envious, she disgusted sees</span> -<span class="i0">All who are happy, and who look at ease.</span> -<span class="i0">Let friendship bind us, I will quickly show</span> -<span class="i0">Some favourites near us you’ll be bless’d to know; <span class="linenum">280</span></span> -<span class="i0">My aunt forbids it—but, can she expect,</span> -<span class="i0">To soothe her spleen, we shall ourselves neglect?</span> -<span class="i0">Jane and the widow were to watch and stay</span> -<span class="i0">My free-born feet; I watch’d as well as they;</span> -<span class="i0">Lo! what is this? this simple key explores</span> -<span class="i0">The dark recess that holds the spinster’s stores;</span> -<span class="i0">And led by her ill star, I chanced to see</span> -<span class="i0">Where Issop keeps her stock of ratafie;</span> -<span class="i0">Used in the hours of anger and alarm,</span> -<span class="i0">It makes her civil, and it keeps her warm; <span class="linenum">290</span></span> -<span class="i0">Thus bless’d with secrets, both would choose to hide,</span> -<span class="i0">Their fears now grant me what their scorn denied.</span> -<span class="i2">“My freedom thus by their assent secured,</span> -<span class="i0">Bad as it is, the place may be endured;</span> -<span class="i0">And bad it is, but her estates, you know,</span> -<span class="i0">And her beloved hoards, she must bestow;</span> -<span class="i0">So we can slyly our amusements take,</span> -<span class="i0">And friends of dæmons, if they help us, make.”</span> -<span class="i2">“Strange creatures these,” thought Jesse, half inclined</span> -<span class="i0">To smile at one malicious and yet kind; <span class="linenum">300</span></span> -<span class="i0">Frank and yet cunning, with a heart to love</span> -<span class="i0">And malice prompt—the serpent and the dove;</span> -<span class="i0">Here could she dwell? or could she yet depart?</span> -<span class="i0">Could she be artful? could she bear with art?—</span> -<span class="i0">This splendid mansion gave the cottage grace,</span> -<span class="i0">She thought a dungeon was a happier place;</span> -<span class="i0">And Colin pleading, when he pleaded best,</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</a></span> -<span class="i0">Wrought not such sudden change in Jesse’s breast.</span> -<span class="i2">The wondering maiden, who had only read</span> -<span class="i0">Of such vile beings, saw them now with dread; <span class="linenum">310</span></span> -<span class="i0">Safe in themselves—for nature has design’d</span> -<span class="i0">The creature’s poison harmless to the kind;</span> -<span class="i0">But all beside who in the haunts are found</span> -<span class="i0">Must dread the poison, and must feel the wound.</span> -<span class="i2">Days full of care, slow weary weeks pass’d on;</span> -<span class="i0">Eager to go, still Jesse was not gone;</span> -<span class="i0">Her time in trifling or in tears she spent,</span> -<span class="i0">She never gave, she never felt content:</span> -<span class="i0">The lady wonder’d that her humble guest</span> -<span class="i0">Strove not to please, would neither lie nor jest; <span class="linenum">320</span></span> -<span class="i0">She sought no news, no scandal would convey,</span> -<span class="i0">But walk’d for health, and was at church to pray;</span> -<span class="i0">All this displeased, and soon the widow cried:</span> -<span class="i0">“Let me be frank—I am not satisfied;</span> -<span class="i0">You know my wishes, I your judgment trust;</span> -<span class="i0">You can be useful, Jesse, and you must;</span> -<span class="i0">Let me be plainer, child—I want an ear,</span> -<span class="i0">When I am deaf, instead of mine to hear;</span> -<span class="i0">When mine is sleeping, let your eye awake;</span> -<span class="i0">When I observe not, observation take; <span class="linenum">330</span></span> -<span class="i0">Alas! I rest not on my pillow laid,</span> -<span class="i0">Then threat’ning whispers make my soul afraid;</span> -<span class="i0">The tread of strangers to my ear ascends,</span> -<span class="i0">Fed at my cost, the minions of my friends;</span> -<span class="i0">While you, without a care, a wish to please,</span> -<span class="i0">Eat the vile bread of idleness and ease.”</span> -<span class="i2">Th’ indignant girl astonish’d answer’d—“Nay!</span> -<span class="i0">This instant, madam, let me haste away;</span> -<span class="i0">Thus speaks my father’s, thus an orphan’s, friend?</span> -<span class="i0">This instant, lady, let your bounty end.” <span class="linenum">340</span></span> -<span class="i2">The lady frown’d indignant—“What!” she cried,</span> -<span class="i0">“A vicar’s daughter with a princess’ pride!</span> -<span class="i0">And pauper’s lot! but pitying I forgive;</span> -<span class="i0">How, simple Jesse, do you think to live?</span> -<span class="i0">Have I not power to help you, foolish maid?</span> -<span class="i0">To my concerns be your attention paid;</span> -<span class="i0">With cheerful mind th’ allotted duties take,</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</a></span> -<span class="i0">And recollect I have a will to make.”</span> -<span class="i2">Jesse, who felt as liberal natures feel,</span> -<span class="i0">When thus the baser their designs reveal, <span class="linenum">350</span></span> -<span class="i0">Replied—“Those duties were to her unfit,</span> -<span class="i0">Nor would her spirit to her tasks submit.”</span> -<span class="i2">In silent scorn the lady sate awhile,</span> -<span class="i0">And then replied with stern contemptuous smile—</span> -<span class="i2">“Think you, fair madam, that you came to share</span> -<span class="i0">Fortunes like mine without a thought or care?</span> -<span class="i0">A guest, indeed! from every trouble free,</span> -<span class="i0">Dress’d by my help, with not a care for me.</span> -<span class="i0">When I a visit to your father made,</span> -<span class="i0">I for the poor assistance largely paid; <span class="linenum">360</span></span> -<span class="i0">To his domestics I their tasks assign’d;</span> -<span class="i0">I fix’d the portion for his hungry hind;</span> -<span class="i0">And had your father (simple man!) obey’d</span> -<span class="i0">My good advice, and watch’d as well as pray’d,</span> -<span class="i0">He might have left you something with his prayers,</span> -<span class="i0">And lent some colour for these lofty airs.—</span> -<span class="i2">“In tears! my love! Oh, then my soften’d heart</span> -<span class="i0">Cannot resist—we never more will part;</span> -<span class="i0">I need your friendship—I will be your friend;</span> -<span class="i0">And thus determined, to my will attend.” <span class="linenum">370</span></span> -<span class="i2">Jesse went forth, but with determined soul</span> -<span class="i0">To fly such love, to break from such control;</span> -<span class="i0">“I hear enough,” the trembling damsel cried;</span> -<span class="i0">“Flight be my care, and Providence my guide:</span> -<span class="i0">Ere yet a prisoner, I escape will make; <span class="ws11">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Will, thus display’d, th’ insidious arts forsake,<span class="ws5">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">And, as the rattle sounds, will fly the fatal snake.” }</span> -<span class="i2">Jesse her thanks upon the morrow paid,</span> -<span class="i0">Prepared to go, determined though afraid.</span> -<span class="i2">“Ungrateful creature,” said the lady, “this <span class="linenum">380</span></span> -<span class="i0">Could I imagine?—are you frantic, miss?</span> -<span class="i0">What! leave your friend, your prospects—is it true?”</span> -<span class="i0">This Jesse answer’d by a mild “Adieu!”</span> -<span class="i2">The dame replied, “Then houseless may you rove,</span> -<span class="i0">The starving victim to a guilty love;</span> -<span class="i0">Branded with shame, in sickness doom’d to nurse</span> -<span class="i0">An ill-form’d cub, your scandal and your curse;</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</a></span> -<span class="i0">Spurn’d by its scoundrel father, and ill fed</span> -<span class="i0">By surly rustics with the parish-bread!—</span> -<span class="i0">Relent you not?—speak—yet I can forgive; <span class="linenum">390</span></span> -<span class="i0">Still live with me”—“With you,” said Jesse, “live?</span> -<span class="i0">No! I would first endure what you describe,</span> -<span class="i0">Rather than breathe with your detested tribe:</span> -<span class="i0">Who long have feign’d, till now their very hearts</span> -<span class="i0">Are firmly fix’d in their accursed parts;</span> -<span class="i0">Who all profess esteem, and feel disdain,</span> -<span class="i0">And all, with justice, of deceit complain;</span> -<span class="i0">Whom I could pity, but that, while I stay,</span> -<span class="i0">My terror drives all kinder thoughts away;</span> -<span class="i0">Grateful for this, that when I think of you, <span class="linenum">400</span></span> -<span class="i0">I little fear what poverty can do.”</span> -<span class="i2">The angry matron her attendant Jane</span> -<span class="i0">Summon’d in haste to soothe the fierce disdain.</span> -<span class="i2">“A vile detested wretch!” the lady cried,<span class="ws12">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">“Yet shall she be, by many an effort, tried,<span class="ws12">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">And, clogg’d with debt and fear, against her will abide; }</span> -<span class="i0">And, once secured, she never shall depart</span> -<span class="i0">Till I have proved the firmness of her heart;</span> -<span class="i0">Then when she dares not, would not, cannot go,</span> -<span class="i0">I’ll make her feel what ’tis to use me so.” <span class="linenum">410</span></span> -<span class="i2">The pensive Colin in his garden stray’d,</span> -<span class="i0">But felt not then the beauties it display’d;</span> -<span class="i0">There many a pleasant object met his view,</span> -<span class="i0">A rising wood of oaks behind it grew;</span> -<span class="i0">A stream ran by it, and the village-green</span> -<span class="i0">And public road were from the gardens seen;</span> -<span class="i0">Save where the pine and larch the bound’ry made,</span> -<span class="i0">And on the rose-beds threw a softening shade.</span> -<span class="i2">The mother sat beside the garden-door,</span> -<span class="i0">Dress’d as in times ere she and hers were poor; <span class="linenum">420</span></span> -<span class="i0">The broad-laced cap was known in ancient days,</span> -<span class="i0">When madam’s dress compell’d the village praise;</span> -<span class="i0">And still she look’d as in the times of old,</span> -<span class="i0">Ere his last farm the erring husband sold;</span> -<span class="i0">While yet the mansion stood in decent state,</span> -<span class="i0">And paupers waited at the well-known gate.</span> -<span class="i2">“Alas! my son!” the mother cried, “and why</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</a></span> -<span class="i0">That silent grief and oft-repeated sigh?</span> -<span class="i0">True, we are poor, but thou hast never felt</span> -<span class="i0">Pangs to thy father for his error dealt; <span class="linenum">430</span></span> -<span class="i0">Pangs from strong hopes of visionary gain,</span> -<span class="i0">For ever raised, and ever found in vain.</span> -<span class="i0">He rose unhappy! from his fruitless schemes,</span> -<span class="i0">As guilty wretches from their blissful dreams;</span> -<span class="i0">But thou wert then, my son, a playful child,</span> -<span class="i0">Wondering at grief, gay, innocent, and wild;</span> -<span class="i0">Listening at times to thy poor mother’s sighs,</span> -<span class="i0">With curious looks and innocent surprise;</span> -<span class="i0">Thy father dying, thou, my virtuous boy,</span> -<span class="i0">My comfort always, waked my soul to joy; <span class="linenum">440</span></span> -<span class="i0">With the poor remnant of our fortune left,</span> -<span class="i0">Thou hast our station of its gloom bereft:</span> -<span class="i0">Thy lively temper, and thy cheerful air,</span> -<span class="i0">Have cast a smile on sadness and despair;</span> -<span class="i0">Thy active hand has dealt to this poor space</span> -<span class="i0">The bliss of plenty and the charm of grace;</span> -<span class="i0">And all around us wonder when they find</span> -<span class="i0">Such taste and strength, such skill and power combined;</span> -<span class="i0">There is no mother, Colin, no not one,</span> -<span class="i0">But envies me so kind, so good a son; <span class="linenum">450</span></span> -<span class="i0">By thee supported on this failing side,</span> -<span class="i0">Weakness itself awakes a parent’s pride;</span> -<span class="i0">I bless the stroke that was my grief before,</span> -<span class="i0">And feel such joy that ’tis disease no more;</span> -<span class="i0">Shielded by thee, my want becomes my wealth—</span> -<span class="i0">And, soothed by Colin, sickness smiles at health;</span> -<span class="i0">The old men love thee, they repeat thy praise,</span> -<span class="i0">And say, like thee were youth in earlier days;</span> -<span class="i0">While every village-maiden cries, ’How gay,</span> -<span class="i0">How smart, how brave, how good is Colin Grey!’ <span class="linenum">460</span></span> -<span class="i2">“Yet art thou sad; alas! my son, I know</span> -<span class="i0">Thy heart is wounded, and the cure is slow;</span> -<span class="i0">Fain would I think that Jesse still may come</span> -<span class="i0">To share the comforts of our rustic home:</span> -<span class="i0">She surely loved thee; I have seen the maid,</span> -<span class="i0">When thou hast kindly brought the vicar aid—</span> -<span class="i0">When thou hast eased his bosom of its pain,</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</a></span> -<span class="i0">Oh! I have seen her—she will come again.”</span> -<span class="i2">The matron ceased; and Colin stood the while</span> -<span class="i0">Silent, but striving for a grateful smile; <span class="linenum">470</span></span> -<span class="i0">He then replied—“Ah! sure, had Jesse stay’d,</span> -<span class="i0">And shared the comforts of our sylvan shade,</span> -<span class="i0">The tenderest duty and the fondest love</span> -<span class="i0">Would not have fail’d that generous heart to move;</span> -<span class="i0">A grateful pity would have ruled her breast,</span> -<span class="i0">And my distresses would have made me blest.</span> -<span class="i2">“But she is gone, and ever has in view<span class="ws11">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Grandeur and taste—and what will then ensue?<span class="ws6">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Surprise and then delight in scenes so fair and new;  }</span> -<span class="i0">For many a day, perhaps for many a week, <span class="linenum">480</span></span> -<span class="i0">Home will have charms, and to her bosom speak;</span> -<span class="i0">But thoughtless ease, and affluence, and pride,</span> -<span class="i0">Seen day by day, will draw the heart aside:</span> -<span class="i0">And she at length, though gentle and sincere,</span> -<span class="i0">Will think no more of our enjoyments here.”</span> -<span class="i2">Sighing he spake—but hark! he hears th’ approach</span> -<span class="i0">Of rattling wheels! and lo! the evening-coach;</span> -<span class="i0">Once more the movement of the horses’ feet</span> -<span class="i0">Makes the fond heart with strong emotion beat;</span> -<span class="i0">Faint were his hopes, but ever had the sight <span class="linenum">490</span></span> -<span class="i0">Drawn him to gaze beside his gate at night;</span> -<span class="i0">And when with rapid wheels it hurried by,</span> -<span class="i0">He grieved his parent with a hopeless sigh;</span> -<span class="i0">And could the blessing have been bought—what sum</span> -<span class="i0">Had he not offer’d, to have Jesse come!</span> -<span class="i0">She came—he saw her bending from the door,</span> -<span class="i0">Her face, her smile, and he beheld no more;</span> -<span class="i0">Lost in his joy—the mother lent her aid</span> -<span class="i0">T’ assist and to detain the willing maid;</span> -<span class="i0">Who thought her late, her present home to make, <span class="linenum">500</span></span> -<span class="i0">Sure of a welcome for the vicar’s sake.</span> -<span class="i0">But the good parent was so pleased, so kind,</span> -<span class="i0">So pressing Colin, she so much inclined,</span> -<span class="i0">That night advanced; and then so long detain’d,<span class="ws9">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">No wishes to depart she felt, or feign’d; <span class="ws15">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Yet long in doubt she stood, and then perforce remain’d. }</span> -<span class="i2">Here was a lover fond, a friend sincere;</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</a></span> -<span class="i0">Here was content and joy, for she was here:</span> -<span class="i0">In the mild evening, in the scene around,</span> -<span class="i0">The maid, now free, peculiar beauties found; <span class="linenum">510</span></span> -<span class="i0">Blended with village-tones, the evening-gale</span> -<span class="i0">Gave the sweet night-bird’s warblings to the vale;</span> -<span class="i0">The youth embolden’d, yet abash’d, now told</span> -<span class="i0">His fondest wish, nor found the maiden cold;</span> -<span class="i0">The mother smiling whisper’d—“Let him go</span> -<span class="i0">And seek the licence!” Jesse answer’d, “No:”</span> -<span class="i0">But Colin went, I know not if they live</span> -<span class="i0">With all the comforts wealth and plenty give;</span> -<span class="i0">But with pure joy to envious souls denied,</span> -<span class="i0">To suppliant meanness and suspicious pride; <span class="linenum">520</span></span> -<span class="i0">And village-maids of happy couples say,</span> -<span class="i0">“They live like Jesse Bourn and Colin Grey.”</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</a></span> -</div></div> - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> -<h3>TALE XIV.</h3> -<p class="f110"><i>THE STRUGGLES OF CONSCIENCE.</i></p> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poem2"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I am a villain; yet I lie, I am not;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Fool! of thyself speak well:—Fool! do not flatter.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">My Conscience hath a thousand several tongues,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And every tongue brings in a several tale.<br /></span> -<span class="i25"><i>Richard III.</i> Act V. Scene 3.<br /><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i2">My Conscience is but a kind of hard Conscience.... The fiend<br /></span> -<span class="i0">gives the more friendly counsel.<br /></span> -<span class="i19"><i>Merchant of Venice</i>, Act II. Scene 2.<br /><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i2">Thou hast it now....<br /></span> -<span class="i3">...and I fear<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Thou play’dst most foully [for’t].<br /></span> -<span class="i27"><i>Macbeth</i>, Act III. Scene 1.<br /><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Canst thou not minister to a mind diseased,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Pluck from the memory a rooted sorrow,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Rase out the written troubles of the brain,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And with some sweet oblivious antidote<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Cleanse the foul bosom of that perilous stuff<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Which weighs upon the heart?<br /></span> -<span class="i27"><i>Macbeth</i>, Act V. Scene 3.<br /><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i4">Soft! I did but dream—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Oh! coward Conscience, how dost thou afflict me!<br /></span> -<span class="i25"><i>Richard III.</i> Act V. Scene 3.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[Pg 186]</a></span> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="f120 break space-above2"><b>TALE XIV.</b></p> -<p class="f110"><i>THE STRUGGLES OF CONSCIENCE.</i></p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">A serious toyman in the city dwelt,</span> -<span class="i0">Who much concern for his religion felt;</span> -<span class="i0">Reading, he changed his tenets, read again,</span> -<span class="i0">And various questions could with skill maintain;</span> -<span class="i0">Papist and quaker if we set aside,</span> -<span class="i0">He had the road of every traveller tried;</span> -<span class="i0">There walk’d awhile, and on a sudden turn’d</span> -<span class="i0">Into some by-way he had just discern’d:</span> -<span class="i0">He had a nephew, Fulham—Fulham went</span> -<span class="i0">His uncle’s way, with every turn content; <span class="linenum">10</span></span> -<span class="i0">He saw his pious kinsman’s watchful care, <span class="ws12">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">And thought such anxious pains his own might spare,<span class="ws4">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">And he, the truth obtain’d, without the toil, might share. }</span> -<span class="i0">In fact, young Fulham, though he little read,</span> -<span class="i0">Perceived his uncle was by fancy led;</span> -<span class="i0">And smiled to see the constant care he took,</span> -<span class="i0">Collating creed with creed, and book with book.</span> -<span class="i2">At length the senior fix’d; I pass the sect</span> -<span class="i0">He call’d a church, ’twas precious and elect;</span> -<span class="i0">Yet the seed fell not in the richest soil, <span class="linenum">20</span></span> -<span class="i0">For few disciples paid the preacher’s toil;</span> -<span class="i0">All in an attic-room were wont to meet,</span> -<span class="i0">These few disciples at their pastor’s feet;</span> -<span class="i0">With these went Fulham, who, discreet and grave,</span> -<span class="i0">Follow’d the light his worthy uncle gave;</span> -<span class="i0">Till a warm preacher found a way t’ impart</span> -<span class="i0">Awakening feelings to his torpid heart:</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[Pg 187]</a></span> -<span class="i0">Some weighty truths, and of unpleasant kind,</span> -<span class="i0">Sank, though resisted, in his struggling mind;</span> -<span class="i0">He wish’d to fly them, but, compell’d to stay, <span class="linenum">30</span></span> -<span class="i0">Truth to the waking Conscience found her way;</span> -<span class="i0">For though the youth was call’d a prudent lad,</span> -<span class="i0">And prudent was, yet serious faults he had;</span> -<span class="i0">Who now reflected—“Much am I surprised,</span> -<span class="i0">I find these notions cannot be despised;</span> -<span class="i0">No! there is something I perceive at last,</span> -<span class="i0">Although my uncle cannot hold it fast;</span> -<span class="i0">Though I the strictness of these men reject,</span> -<span class="i0">Yet I determine to be circumspect:</span> -<span class="i0">This man alarms me, and I must begin <span class="linenum">40</span></span> -<span class="i0">To look more closely to the things within;</span> -<span class="i0">These sons of zeal have I derided long,</span> -<span class="i0">But now begin to think the laughers wrong;</span> -<span class="i0">Nay, my good uncle, by all teachers moved,<span class="ws7">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Will be preferr’d to him who none approved:<span class="ws6">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Better to love amiss than nothing to have loved.”   }</span> -<span class="i2">Such were his thoughts, when Conscience first began</span> -<span class="i0">To hold close converse with th’ awaken’d man.</span> -<span class="i0">He from that time reserved and cautious grew,</span> -<span class="i0">And for his duties felt obedience due; <span class="linenum">50</span></span> -<span class="i0">Pious he was not, but he fear’d the pain</span> -<span class="i0">Of sins committed, nor would sin again.</span> -<span class="i0">Whene’er he stray’d, he found his Conscience rose, }</span> -<span class="i0">Like one determined what was ill t’ oppose,<span class="ws8">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">What wrong t’ accuse, what secret to disclose;<span class="ws6">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">To drag forth every latent act to light,</span> -<span class="i0">And fix them fully in the actor’s sight:</span> -<span class="i0">This gave him trouble, but he still confess’d</span> -<span class="i0">The labour useful, for it brought him rest.</span> -<span class="i2">The uncle died, and when the nephew read <span class="linenum">60</span></span> -<span class="i0">The will, and saw the substance of the dead—</span> -<span class="i0">Five hundred guineas, with a stock in trade—</span> -<span class="i0">He much rejoiced, and thought his fortune made;</span> -<span class="i0">Yet felt aspiring pleasure at the sight,</span> -<span class="i0">And, for increase, increasing appetite.</span> -<span class="i0">Desire of profit idle habits check’d,</span> -<span class="i0">(For Fulham’s virtue was to be correct);</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[Pg 188]</a></span> -<span class="i0">He and his Conscience had their compact made—</span> -<span class="i0">“Urge me with truth, and you will soon persuade;</span> -<span class="i0">But not,” he cried, “for mere ideal things <span class="linenum">70</span></span> -<span class="i0">Give me to feel those terror-breeding stings.”</span> -<span class="i2">“Let not such thoughts,” she said, “your mind confound;</span> -<span class="i0">Trifles may wake me, but they never wound;</span> -<span class="i0">In them indeed there is a wrong and right,</span> -<span class="i0">But you will find me pliant and polite;</span> -<span class="i0">Not like a Conscience of the dotard kind,</span> -<span class="i0">Awake to dreams, to dire offences blind.</span> -<span class="i0">Let all within be pure; in all beside</span> -<span class="i0">Be your own master, governor, and guide;</span> -<span class="i0">Alive to danger, in temptation strong— <span class="linenum">80</span></span> -<span class="i0">And I shall sleep our whole existence long.”</span> -<span class="i2">“Sweet be thy sleep,” said Fulham; “strong must be</span> -<span class="i0">The tempting ill that gains access to me;</span> -<span class="i0">Never will I to evil deed consent,</span> -<span class="i0">Or, if surprised, oh! how will I repent!</span> -<span class="i0">Should gain be doubtful, soon would I restore</span> -<span class="i0">The dangerous good, or give it to the poor;</span> -<span class="i0">Repose for them my growing wealth shall buy—</span> -<span class="i0">Or build—who knows?—an hospital like Guy.—</span> -<span class="i0">Yet why such means to soothe the smart within, <span class="linenum">90</span></span> -<span class="i0">While firmly purposed to renounce the sin?”</span> -<span class="i2">Thus our young Trader and his Conscience dwelt</span> -<span class="i0">In mutual love, and great the joy they felt;</span> -<span class="i0">But yet in small concerns, in trivial things,</span> -<span class="i0">“She was,” he said, “too ready with the stings;”</span> -<span class="i0">And he too apt, in search of growing gains,</span> -<span class="i0">To lose the fear of penalties and pains:</span> -<span class="i0">Yet these were trifling bickerings, petty jars,</span> -<span class="i0">Domestic strifes, preliminary wars;</span> -<span class="i0">He ventured little, little she express’d <span class="linenum">100</span></span> -<span class="i0">Of indignation, and they both had rest.</span> -<span class="i2">Thus was he fix’d to walk the worthy way,</span> -<span class="i0">When profit urged him to a bold essay.—</span> -<span class="i0">A time was that when all at pleasure gamed</span> -<span class="i0">In lottery-chances, yet of law unblamed;</span> -<span class="i0">This Fulham tried: who would to him advance</span> -<span class="i0">A pound or crown, he gave in turn a chance</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[Pg 189]</a></span> -<span class="i0">For weighty prize—and should they nothing share,</span> -<span class="i0">They had their crown or pound in Fulham’s ware;</span> -<span class="i0">Thus the old stores within the shop were sold <span class="linenum">110</span></span> -<span class="i0">For that which none refuses, new or old.</span> -<span class="i2">Was this unjust? Yet Conscience could not rest</span> -<span class="i0">But made a mighty struggle in the breast;</span> -<span class="i0">And gave th’ aspiring man an early proof,</span> -<span class="i0">That should they war he would have work enough:</span> -<span class="i0">“Suppose,” said she, “your vended numbers rise</span> -<span class="i0">The same with those which gain each real prize,</span> -<span class="i0">(Such your proposal,) can you ruin shun?”</span> -<span class="i0">“A hundred thousand,” he replied, “to one.”—</span> -<span class="i0">“Still it may happen.”—“I the sum must pay.”— <span class="linenum">120</span></span> -<span class="i0">“You know you cannot.”—“I can run away.”—</span> -<span class="i0">“That is dishonest.”—“Nay, but you must wink</span> -<span class="i0">At a chance-hit; it cannot be, I think.</span> -<span class="i0">Upon my conduct as a whole decide,</span> -<span class="i0">Such trifling errors let my virtues hide;</span> -<span class="i0">Fail I at meeting? am I sleepy there?</span> -<span class="i0">My purse refuse I with the priest to share?</span> -<span class="i0">Do I deny the poor a helping hand?</span> -<span class="i0">Or stop the wicked women in the Strand?</span> -<span class="i0">Or drink at club beyond a certain pitch? <span class="linenum">130</span></span> -<span class="i0">Which are your charges? Conscience, tell me which.”</span> -<span class="i2">“’Tis well,” said she, “but—” “Nay, I pray, have done:</span> -<span class="i0">Trust me, I will not into danger run.”</span> -<span class="i2">The lottery drawn, not one demand was made;</span> -<span class="i0">Fulham gain’d profit and increase of trade.</span> -<span class="i0">“See now,” said he—for Conscience yet arose—</span> -<span class="i0">“How foolish ’tis such measures to oppose:</span> -<span class="i0">Have I not blameless thus my state advanced?”—</span> -<span class="i0">“Still,” mutter’d Conscience, “still it might have chanced.”—</span> -<span class="i0">“Might!” said our hero, “who is so exact <span class="linenum">140</span></span> -<span class="i0">As to inquire what might have been a fact?”</span> -<span class="i2">Now Fulham’s shop contain’d a curious view</span> -<span class="i0">Of costly trifles, elegant and new:</span> -<span class="i0">The papers told where kind mammas might buy</span> -<span class="i0">The gayest toys to charm an infant’s eye;</span> -<span class="i0">Where generous beaux might gentle damsels please,</span> -<span class="i0">And travellers call who cross the land or seas,</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[Pg 190]</a></span> -<span class="i0">And find the curious art, the neat device,</span> -<span class="i0">Of precious value and of trifling price.</span> -<span class="i2">Here Conscience rested: she was pleased to find <span class="linenum">150</span></span> -<span class="i0">No less an active than an honest mind;</span> -<span class="i0">But, when he named his price, and when he swore,</span> -<span class="i0">His Conscience check’d him, that he ask’d no more—</span> -<span class="i0">When half he sought had been a large increase</span> -<span class="i0">On fair demand—she could not rest in peace</span> -<span class="i0">(Beside th’ affront to call th’ adviser in,</span> -<span class="i0">Who would prevent, to justify the sin.)</span> -<span class="i0">She therefore told him, that “he vainly tried</span> -<span class="i0">To soothe her anger, conscious that he lied;</span> -<span class="i0">If thus he grasp’d at such usurious gains, <span class="linenum">160</span></span> -<span class="i0">He must deserve, and should expect, her pains.”</span> -<span class="i2">The charge was strong; he would in part confess</span> -<span class="i0">Offence there was—but, who offended less?</span> -<span class="i0">“What! is a mere assertion call’d a lie?</span> -<span class="i0">And if it be, are men compell’d to buy?</span> -<span class="i0">’Twas strange that Conscience on such points should dwell, }</span> -<span class="i0">While he was acting (he would call it) well;<span class="ws15">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">He bought as others buy, he sold as others sell: <span class="ws12">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">There was no fraud, and he demanded cause</span> -<span class="i0">Why he was troubled, when he kept the laws?” <span class="linenum">170</span></span> -<span class="i2">“My laws?” said Conscience: “What,” said he, “are thine?</span> -<span class="i0">Oral or written, human or divine?</span> -<span class="i0">Show me the chapter, let me see the text;</span> -<span class="i0">By laws uncertain subjects are perplex’d;</span> -<span class="i0">Let me my finger on the statute lay,</span> -<span class="i0">And I shall feel it duty to obey.”</span> -<span class="i2">“Reflect,” said Conscience, “’twas your own desire</span> -<span class="i0">That I should warn you—does the compact tire?</span> -<span class="i0">Repent you this? then bid me not advise,</span> -<span class="i0">And rather hear your passions as they rise; <span class="linenum">180</span></span> -<span class="i0">So you may counsel and remonstrance shun,</span> -<span class="i0">But then remember it is war begun;</span> -<span class="i0">And you may judge from some attacks, my friend,</span> -<span class="i0">What serious conflicts will on war attend.”</span> -<span class="i2">“Nay, but,” at length the thoughtful man replied,</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[Pg 191]</a></span> -<span class="i0">“I say not that; I wish you for my guide;</span> -<span class="i0">Wish for your checks and your reproofs—but then</span> -<span class="i0">Be like a Conscience of my fellow-men;</span> -<span class="i0">Worthy I mean, and men of good report,</span> -<span class="i0">And not the wretches who with conscience sport. <span class="linenum">190</span></span> -<span class="i0">There’s Bice, my friend, who passes off his grease</span> -<span class="i0">Of pigs for bears’, in pots a crown apiece;</span> -<span class="i0">His Conscience never checks him when he swears</span> -<span class="i0">The fat he sells is honest fat of bears;</span> -<span class="i0">And so it is, for he contrives to give</span> -<span class="i0">A drachm to each—’tis thus that tradesmen live:</span> -<span class="i0">Now why should you and I be over-nice;</span> -<span class="i0">What man is held in more repute than Bice?”</span> -<span class="i2">Here ended the dispute; but yet ’twas plain</span> -<span class="i0">The parties both expected strife again. <span class="linenum">200</span></span> -<span class="i0">Their friendship cool’d, he look’d about and saw</span> -<span class="i0">Numbers who seem’d unshackled by his awe;</span> -<span class="i0">While like a school-boy he was threaten’d still,</span> -<span class="i0">Now for the deed, now only for the will;</span> -<span class="i0">Here Conscience answer’d, “To thy neighbour’s guide</span> -<span class="i0">Thy neighbour leave, and in thine own confide.”</span> -<span class="i2">Such were each day the charges and replies,</span> -<span class="i0">When a new object caught the trader’s eyes;</span> -<span class="i0">A vestry-patriot, could he gain the name,</span> -<span class="i0">Would famous make him, and would pay the fame. <span class="linenum">210</span></span> -<span class="i0">He knew full well the sums bequeath’d in charge</span> -<span class="i0">For schools, for alms-men, for the poor, were large;</span> -<span class="i0">Report had told, and he could feel it true,</span> -<span class="i0">That most unfairly dealt the trusted few;</span> -<span class="i0">No partners would they in their office take,</span> -<span class="i0">Nor clear accounts at annual meetings make;</span> -<span class="i0">Aloud our hero in the vestry spoke</span> -<span class="i0">Of hidden deeds, and vow’d to draw the cloak;</span> -<span class="i0">It was the poor man’s cause, and he for one</span> -<span class="i0">Was quite determined to see justice done. <span class="linenum">220</span></span> -<span class="i0">His foes affected laughter, then disdain,<span class="ws13">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">They too were loud and threat’ning, but in vain; <span class="ws6">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">The pauper’s friend, their foe, arose and spoke again.  }</span> -<span class="i0">Fiercely he cried, “Your garbled statements show</span> -<span class="i0">That you determine we shall nothing know;</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[Pg 192]</a></span> -<span class="i0">But we shall bring your hidden crimes to light,</span> -<span class="i0">Give you to shame, and to the poor their right.”</span> -<span class="i2">Virtue like this might some approval ask—</span> -<span class="i0">But Conscience sternly said, “You wear a mask!”</span> -<span class="i0">“At least,” said Fulham, “if I have a view <span class="linenum">230</span></span> -<span class="i0">To serve myself, I serve the public too.”</span> -<span class="i2">Fulham, though check’d, retain’d his former zeal,</span> -<span class="i0">And this the cautious rogues began to feel.</span> -<span class="i0">“Thus will he ever bark,” in peevish tone</span> -<span class="i0">An elder cried—“the cur must have a bone.”</span> -<span class="i0">They then began to hint—and to begin</span> -<span class="i0">Was all they needed: it was felt within;</span> -<span class="i0">In terms less veil’d an offer then was made,</span> -<span class="i0">Though distant still, it fail’d not to persuade;</span> -<span class="i0">More plainly then was every point proposed, <span class="linenum">240</span></span> -<span class="i0">Approved, accepted, and the bargain closed.</span> -<span class="i0">“Th’ exulting paupers hail’d their friend’s success,</span> -<span class="i0">And bade adieu to murmurs and distress.”</span> -<span class="i2">Alas! their friend had now superior light,</span> -<span class="i0">And, view’d by that, he found that all was right;</span> -<span class="i0">“There were no errors, the disbursements small;</span> -<span class="i0">This was the truth, and truth was due to all.”</span> -<span class="i2">And rested Conscience? No! she would not rest,</span> -<span class="i0">Yet was content with making a protest.</span> -<span class="i0">Some acts she now with less resistance bore, <span class="linenum">250</span></span> -<span class="i0">Nor took alarm so quickly as before;</span> -<span class="i0">Like those in towns besieged, who every ball</span> -<span class="i0">At first with terror view, and dread them all;</span> -<span class="i0">But, grown familiar with the scenes, they fear</span> -<span class="i0">The danger less, as it approaches near:</span> -<span class="i0">So Conscience, more familiar with the view</span> -<span class="i0">Of growing evils, less attentive grew;</span> -<span class="i0">Yet he who felt some pain, and dreaded more,</span> -<span class="i0">Gave a peace-offering to the angry poor.</span> -<span class="i2">Thus had he quiet—but the time was brief, <span class="linenum">260</span></span> -<span class="i0">From his new triumph sprang a cause of grief;</span> -<span class="i0">In office join’d, and acting with the rest,</span> -<span class="i0">He must admit the sacramental test.</span> -<span class="i0">Now, as a sectary, who had all his life,</span> -<span class="i0">As he supposed, been with the church at strife</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[Pg 193]</a></span> -<span class="i0">(No rules of hers, no laws had he perused,</span> -<span class="i0">Nor knew the tenets he by rote abused);</span> -<span class="i0">Yet Conscience here arose more fierce and strong,</span> -<span class="i0">Than when she told of robbery and wrong;</span> -<span class="i0">“Change his religion! No! he must be sure <span class="linenum">270</span></span> -<span class="i0">That was a blow no conscience could endure.”</span> -<span class="i2">Though friend to virtue, yet she oft abides</span> -<span class="i0">In early notions, fix’d by erring guides,</span> -<span class="i0">And is more startled by a call from those,</span> -<span class="i0">Than when the foulest crimes her rest oppose;</span> -<span class="i0">By error taught, by prejudice misled,</span> -<span class="i0">She yields her rights, and fancy rules instead;</span> -<span class="i0">When Conscience all her stings and terror deals,</span> -<span class="i0">Not as truth dictates, but as fancy feels;</span> -<span class="i0">And thus within our hero’s troubled breast, <span class="linenum">280</span></span> -<span class="i0">Crime was less torture than the odious test.</span> -<span class="i0">New forms, new measures, he must now embrace,</span> -<span class="i0">With sad conviction that they warr’d with grace;</span> -<span class="i0">To his new church no former friend would come,</span> -<span class="i0">They scarce preferr’d her to the church of Rome.</span> -<span class="i0">But, thinking much, and weighing guilt and gain,</span> -<span class="i0">Conscience and he commuted for her pain;</span> -<span class="i0">Then promised Fulham to retain his creed,</span> -<span class="i0">And their peculiar paupers still to feed;</span> -<span class="i0">Their attic-room (in secret) to attend, <span class="linenum">290</span></span> -<span class="i0">And not forget he was the preacher’s friend;</span> -<span class="i0">Thus he proposed, and Conscience, troubled, tried,</span> -<span class="i0">And wanting peace, reluctantly complied.</span> -<span class="i2">Now care subdued, and apprehensions gone,</span> -<span class="i0">In peace our hero went aspiring on;</span> -<span class="i0">But short the period—soon a quarrel rose,</span> -<span class="i0">Fierce in the birth, and fatal in the close;</span> -<span class="i0">With times of truce between, which rather proved</span> -<span class="i0">That both were weary, than that either loved.</span> -<span class="i2">Fulham ev’n now disliked the heavy thrall,<span class="ws12">}</span><span class="linenum">300</span></span> -<span class="i0">And for her death would in his anguish call,<span class="ws13">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">As Rome’s mistaken friend exclaim’d, <i>Let Carthage fall</i>!  }</span> -<span class="i0">So felt our hero, so his wish express’d,</span> -<span class="i0">Against this powerful sprite—<i>delenda est</i>.</span> -<span class="i0">Rome in her conquest saw not danger near,</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[Pg 194]</a></span> -<span class="i0">Freed from her rival, and without a fear;</span> -<span class="i0">So, Conscience conquer’d, men perceive how free,</span> -<span class="i0">But not how fatal, such a state must be.</span> -<span class="i0">Fatal, not free, our hero’s: foe or friend,</span> -<span class="i0">Conscience on him was destined to attend; <span class="linenum">310</span></span> -<span class="i0">She [dozed] indeed, grew dull, nor seem’d to spy</span> -<span class="i0">Crime following crime, and each of deeper dye;</span> -<span class="i0">But all were noticed, and the reckoning time</span> -<span class="i0">With her account came on—crime following crime.</span> -<span class="i2">This, once a foe, now brother in the trust,</span> -<span class="i0">Whom Fulham late described as fair and just,</span> -<span class="i0">Was the sole guardian of a wealthy maid,</span> -<span class="i0">Placed in his power, and of his frown afraid:</span> -<span class="i0">Not quite an idiot, for her busy brain</span> -<span class="i0">Sought, by poor cunning, trifling points to gain; <span class="linenum">320</span></span> -<span class="i0">Success in childish projects her delight,</span> -<span class="i0">She took no heed of each important right.</span> -<span class="i2">The friendly parties met—the guardian cried,</span> -<span class="i0">“I am too old; my sons have each a bride:</span> -<span class="i0">Martha, my ward, would make an easy wife;</span> -<span class="i0">On easy terms I’ll make her yours for life;</span> -<span class="i0">And then the creature is so weak and mild,</span> -<span class="i0">She may be soothed and threaten’d as a child—”</span> -<span class="i0">“Yet not obey,” said Fulham, “for your fools,</span> -<span class="i0">Female and male, are obstinate as mules.” <span class="linenum">330</span></span> -<span class="i2">Some points adjusted, these new friends agreed,</span> -<span class="i0">Proposed the day, and hurried on the deed.</span> -<span class="i2">“’Tis a vile act,” said Conscience;—“It will prove,”</span> -<span class="i0">Replied the bolder man, “an act of love;</span> -<span class="i0">Her wicked guardian might the girl have sold</span> -<span class="i0">To endless misery for a tyrant’s gold;</span> -<span class="i0">Now may her life be happy—for I mean</span> -<span class="i0">To keep my temper even and serene.”</span> -<span class="i0">“I cannot thus compound,” the spirit cried,</span> -<span class="i0">“Nor have my laws thus broken and defied; <span class="linenum">340</span></span> -<span class="i0">This is a fraud, a bargain for a wife;</span> -<span class="i0">Expect my vengeance, or amend your life.”</span> -<span class="i2">The wife was pretty, trifling, childish, weak;</span> -<span class="i0">She could not think, but would not cease to speak.</span> -<span class="i0">This he forbad—she took the caution ill,</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[Pg 195]</a></span> -<span class="i0">And boldly rose against his sovereign will;</span> -<span class="i0">With idiot-cunning she would watch the hour,</span> -<span class="i0">When friends were present, to dispute his power:</span> -<span class="i0">With tyrant-craft, he then was still and calm,</span> -<span class="i0">But raised in private terror and alarm: <span class="linenum">350</span></span> -<span class="i0">By many trials, she perceived how far</span> -<span class="i0">To vex and tease, without an open war;</span> -<span class="i0">And he discover’d that so weak a mind</span> -<span class="i0">No art could lead, and no compulsion bind;</span> -<span class="i0">The rudest force would fail such mind to tame,</span> -<span class="i0">And she was callous to rebuke and shame;</span> -<span class="i0">Proud of her wealth, the power of law she knew,</span> -<span class="i0">And would assist him in the spending too.</span> -<span class="i0">His threat’ning words with insult she defied,</span> -<span class="i0">To all his reasoning with a stare replied; <span class="linenum">360</span></span> -<span class="i0">And when he begg’d her to attend, would say,</span> -<span class="i0">“Attend I will—but let me have my way.”</span> -<span class="i2">Nor rest had Conscience: “While you merit pain</span> -<span class="i0">From me,” she cried, “you seek redress in vain.”</span> -<span class="i0">His thoughts were grievous: “All that I possess</span> -<span class="i0">From this vile bargain adds to my distress;</span> -<span class="i0">To pass a life with one who will not mend,<span class="ws4">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Who cannot love, nor save, nor wisely spend, }</span> -<span class="i0">Is a vile prospect, and I see no end;<span class="ws10">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">For if we part, I must of course restore <span class="linenum">370</span></span> -<span class="i0">Much of her money, and must wed no more.</span> -<span class="i2">“Is there no way?”—here Conscience rose in power,</span> -<span class="i0">“Oh! fly the danger of this fatal hour;</span> -<span class="i0">I am thy Conscience, faithful, fond, and true,</span> -<span class="i0">Ah, fly this thought, or evil must ensue;</span> -<span class="i0">Fall on thy knees, and pray with all thy soul,</span> -<span class="i0">Thy purpose banish, thy design control;</span> -<span class="i0">Let every hope of such advantage cease,</span> -<span class="i0">Or never more expect a moment’s peace.”</span> -<span class="i2">Th’ affrighten’d man a due attention paid, <span class="linenum">380</span></span> -<span class="i0">Felt the rebuke, and the command obey’d.</span> -<span class="i2">Again the wife rebell’d, again express’d</span> -<span class="i0">A love for pleasure—a contempt of rest;</span> -<span class="i0">“She, whom she pleased, would visit, would receive</span> -<span class="i0">Those who pleased her, nor deign to ask for leave.”</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[Pg 196]</a></span> -<span class="i2">“One way there is,” said he; “I might contrive</span> -<span class="i0">Into a trap this foolish thing to drive:</span> -<span class="i0">Who pleased her, said she?—I’ll be certain who—”</span> -<span class="i0">“Take heed,” said Conscience, “what thou mean’st to do:</span> -<span class="i0">Ensnare thy wife?”—“Why yes,” he must confess, <span class="linenum">390</span></span> -<span class="i0">“It might be wrong—but there was no redress;</span> -<span class="i0">Beside, to think,” said he, “is not to sin.”</span> -<span class="i0">“Mistaken man!” replied the power within.</span> -<span class="i0">No guest unnoticed to the lady came,</span> -<span class="i0">He judged th’ event with mingled joy and shame;</span> -<span class="i0">Oft he withdrew, and seem’d to leave her free.</span> -<span class="i0">But still as watchful as a lynx was he;</span> -<span class="i0">Meanwhile the wife was thoughtless, cool, and gay,</span> -<span class="i0">And, without virtue, had no wish to stray.</span> -<span class="i2">Though thus opposed, his plans were not resign’d; <span class="linenum">400</span></span> -<span class="i0">“Revenge,” said he, “will prompt that daring mind;</span> -<span class="i0">Refused supplies, insulted and distress’d,</span> -<span class="i0">Enraged with me, and near a favourite guest—</span> -<span class="i0">Then will her vengeance prompt the daring deed,</span> -<span class="i0">And I shall watch, detect her, and be freed.”</span> -<span class="i2">There was a youth—but let me hide the name,</span> -<span class="i0">With all the progress of this deed of shame;</span> -<span class="i0">He had his views—on him the husband cast</span> -<span class="i0">His net, and saw him in his trammels fast.</span> -<span class="i2">“Pause but a moment—think what you intend,” <span class="linenum">410</span></span> -<span class="i0">Said the roused sleeper; “I am yet a friend;</span> -<span class="i0">Must all our days in enmity be spent?”</span> -<span class="i0">“No!” and he paused—“I surely shall repent:”</span> -<span class="i0">Then hurried on—the evil plan was laid,<span class="ws14">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">The wife was guilty, and her friend betray’d, <span class="ws10">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">And Fulham gain’d his wish, and for his will was paid.  }</span> -<span class="i2">Had crimes less weighty on the spirit press’d,</span> -<span class="i0">This troubled Conscience might have sunk to rest;</span> -<span class="i0">And, like a foolish guard, been bribed to peace,</span> -<span class="i0">By a false promise, that offence should cease; <span class="linenum">420</span></span> -<span class="i0">Past faults had seem’d familiar to the view,</span> -<span class="i0">Confused if many, and obscure though true;</span> -<span class="i0">And Conscience, troubled with the dull account,</span> -<span class="i0">Had dropp’d her tale, and slumber’d o’er th’ amount.</span> -<span class="i0">But, struck by daring guilt, alert she rose,</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[Pg 197]</a></span> -<span class="i0">Disturbed, alarm’d, and could no more repose;</span> -<span class="i0">All hopes of friendship, and of peace, were past,</span> -<span class="i0">And every view with gloom was overcast.</span> -<span class="i0">Hence from that day, that day of shame and sin,</span> -<span class="i0">Arose the restless enmity within; <span class="linenum">430</span></span> -<span class="i0">On no resource could Fulham now rely,</span> -<span class="i0">Doom’d all expedients, and in vain, to try;</span> -<span class="i0">For Conscience, roused, sat boldly on her throne,<span class="ws8">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Watch’d every thought, attack’d the foe alone,<span class="ws10">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">And with envenom’d sting drew forth the inward groan:  }</span> -<span class="i0">Expedients fail’d that brought relief before, <span class="ws10">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">In vain his alms gave comfort to the poor: <span class="ws11">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Give what he would, to him the comfort came no more. }</span> -<span class="i0">Not prayer avail’d, and when (his crimes confess’d)</span> -<span class="i0">He felt some ease, she said—“are they redress’d? <span class="linenum">440</span></span> -<span class="i0">You still retain the profit, and be sure,</span> -<span class="i0">Long as it lasts, this anguish shall endure.”</span> -<span class="i2">Fulham still tried to soothe her, cheat, mislead;<span class="ws9">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">But Conscience laid her finger on the deed,<span class="ws14">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">And read the crime with power, and all that must succeed. }</span> -<span class="i0">He tried t’ expel her, but was sure to find</span> -<span class="i0">Her strength increased by all that he design’d;</span> -<span class="i0">Nor ever was his groan more loud and deep,</span> -<span class="i0">Than when refresh’d she rose from momentary sleep.</span> -<span class="i2">Now desperate grown, weak, harass’d, and afraid, <span class="linenum">450</span></span> -<span class="i0">From new allies he sought for doubtful aid;</span> -<span class="i0">To thought itself he strove to bid adieu,</span> -<span class="i0">And from devotions to diversions flew;</span> -<span class="i0">He took a poor domestic for a slave,</span> -<span class="i0">(Though Avarice grieved to see the price he gave);</span> -<span class="i0">Upon his board, once frugal, press’d a load</span> -<span class="i0">Of viands rich, the appetite to goad;</span> -<span class="i0">The long-protracted meal, the sparkling cup,</span> -<span class="i0">Fought with his gloom, and kept his courage up;</span> -<span class="i0">Soon as the morning came, there met his eyes <span class="linenum">460</span></span> -<span class="i0">Accounts of wealth, that he might reading rise;</span> -<span class="i0">To profit then he gave some active hours,</span> -<span class="i0">Till food and wine again should renovate his powers.</span> -<span class="i0">Yet, spite of all defence, of every aid,</span> -<span class="i0">The watchful foe her close attention paid;</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[Pg 198]</a></span> -<span class="i0">In every thoughtful moment, on she press’d,</span> -<span class="i0">And gave at once her dagger to his breast;</span> -<span class="i0">He waked at midnight, and the fears of sin,</span> -<span class="i0">As waters through a bursten dam, broke in;</span> -<span class="i0">Nay, in the banquet, with his friends around, <span class="linenum">470</span></span> -<span class="i0">When all their cares and half their crimes were drown’d,</span> -<span class="i0">Would some chance act awake the slumbering fear,</span> -<span class="i0">And care and crime in all their strength appear:</span> -<span class="i0">The news is read, a guilty victim swings,</span> -<span class="i0">And troubled looks proclaim the bosom-stings;</span> -<span class="i0">Some pair are wed; this brings the wife in view,</span> -<span class="i0">And some divorced: this shows the parting too;</span> -<span class="i0">Nor can he hear of evil word or deed,</span> -<span class="i0">But they to thought, and thought to sufferings lead.</span> -<span class="i2">Such was his life—no other changes came, <span class="linenum">480</span></span> -<span class="i0">The hurrying day, the conscious night the same;</span> -<span class="i0">The night of horror—when he, starting, cried</span> -<span class="i0">To the poor startled sinner at his side:</span> -<span class="i0">“Is it in law? am I condemn’d to die?</span> -<span class="i0">Let me escape!—I’ll give—oh! let me fly—</span> -<span class="i0">How! but a dream—no judges! dungeon! chain!</span> -<span class="i0">Or these grim men!—I will not sleep again.—</span> -<span class="i0">Wilt thou, dread being! thus thy promise keep?</span> -<span class="i0">Day is thy time—and wilt thou murder sleep?</span> -<span class="i0">Sorrow and want repose, and wilt thou come, <span class="linenum">490</span></span> -<span class="i0">Nor give one hour of pure untroubled gloom?</span> -<span class="i2">“Oh! Conscience! Conscience! man’s most faithful friend,</span> -<span class="i0">Him canst thou comfort, ease, relieve, defend;</span> -<span class="i0">But if he will thy friendly checks forego,</span> -<span class="i0">Thou art, oh! woe for me, his deadliest foe!”</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[Pg 199]</a></span> -</div></div> - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> -<h3>TALE XV.</h3> -<p class="f110"><i>ADVICE</i>;</p> -<p class="f90">OR,</p> -<p class="f110">THE ’SQUIRE AND THE PRIEST.</p> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poem2"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">His hours fill’d up with riots, banquets, sports——<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And never noted in him any study,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Any retirement, any sequestration.<br /></span> -<span class="i28"><i>Henry V</i>. Act I. Scene 1.<br /><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i6">I will converse with iron-witted fools,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With unrespective boys; none are for me,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Who look into me with considerate eyes.<br /></span> -<span class="i24"><i>Richard III.</i> Act IV. Scene 2.<br /><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i6">You cram these words into mine ears, against<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The stomach of my sense.<br /></span> -<span class="i27"><i>Tempest</i>, Act II. Scene 1.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[Pg 200]</a></span> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="f120 break space-above2"><b>TALE XV.</b></p> -<p class="f110"><i>THE ’SQUIRE AND THE PRIEST.</i></p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">A wealthy lord of far-extended land</span> -<span class="i0">Had all that pleased him placed at his command;</span> -<span class="i0">Widow’d of late, but finding much relief</span> -<span class="i0">In the world’s comforts, he dismiss’d his grief;</span> -<span class="i0">He was by marriage of his daughters eased,</span> -<span class="i0">And knew his sons could marry if they pleased;</span> -<span class="i0">Meantime in travel he indulged the boys,</span> -<span class="i0">And kept no spy nor partner of his joys.</span> -<span class="i2">These joys, indeed, were of the grosser kind,</span> -<span class="i0">That fed the cravings of an earthly mind; <span class="linenum">10</span></span> -<span class="i0">A mind that, conscious of its own excess,</span> -<span class="i0">Felt the reproach his neighbours would express.</span> -<span class="i0">Long at th’ indulgent board he loved to sit,</span> -<span class="i0">Where joy was laughter, and profaneness wit;</span> -<span class="i0">And such the guest and manners of the hall,</span> -<span class="i0">No wedded lady on the ’squire would call.</span> -<span class="i0">Here reign’d a favourite, and her triumph gain’d</span> -<span class="i0">O’er other favourites who before had reign’d;</span> -<span class="i0">Reserved and modest seem’d the nymph to be,</span> -<span class="i0">Knowing her lord was charm’d with modesty; <span class="linenum">20</span></span> -<span class="i0">For he, a sportsman keen, the more enjoy’d,</span> -<span class="i0">The greater value had the thing destroy’d.</span> -<span class="i2">Our ’squire declared, that, from a wife released,</span> -<span class="i0">He would no more give trouble to a priest;</span> -<span class="i0">Seem’d it not, then, ungrateful and unkind,</span> -<span class="i0">That he should trouble from the priesthood find?</span> -<span class="i0">The church he honour’d, and he gave the due</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[Pg 201]</a></span> -<span class="i0">And full respect to every son he knew;</span> -<span class="i0">But envied those who had the luck to meet</span> -<span class="i0">A gentle pastor, civil, and discreet; <span class="linenum">30</span></span> -<span class="i0">Who never bold and hostile sermon penn’d,</span> -<span class="i0">To wound a sinner, or to shame a friend;</span> -<span class="i0">One whom no being either shunn’d or fear’d,</span> -<span class="i0">Such must be loved wherever they appear’d.</span> -<span class="i2">Not such the stern old rector of the time,</span> -<span class="i0">Who soothed no culprit, and who spared no crime;</span> -<span class="i0">Who would his fears and his contempt express,</span> -<span class="i0">For irreligion and licentiousness;</span> -<span class="i0">Of him our village lord, his guests among,</span> -<span class="i0">By speech vindictive proved his feelings stung. <span class="linenum">40</span></span> -<span class="i2">“Were he a bigot,” said the ’squire, “whose zeal</span> -<span class="i0">Condemn’d us all, I should disdain to feel:</span> -<span class="i0">But when a man of parts, in college train’d,</span> -<span class="i0">Prates of our conduct—who would not be pain’d,</span> -<span class="i0">While he declaims (where no one dares reply)<span class="ws6">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">On men abandon’d, grov’ling in the sty <span class="ws11">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">(Like beasts in human shape) of shameless luxury? }</span> -<span class="i0">Yet with a patriot’s zeal I stand the shock</span> -<span class="i0">Of vile rebuke, example to his flock;</span> -<span class="i0">But let this rector, thus severe and proud, <span class="linenum">50</span></span> -<span class="i0">Change his wide surplice for a narrow shroud,</span> -<span class="i0">And I will place within his seat a youth,</span> -<span class="i0">Train’d by the Graces, to explain the truth;</span> -<span class="i0">Then shall the flock with gentle hand be led,</span> -<span class="i0">By wisdom won, and by compassion fed.”</span> -<span class="i2">This purposed teacher was a sister’s son,</span> -<span class="i0">Who of her children gave the priesthood one;</span> -<span class="i0">And she had early train’d for this employ</span> -<span class="i0">The pliant talents of her college-boy.</span> -<span class="i0">At various times her letters painted all <span class="linenum">60</span></span> -<span class="i0">Her brother’s views—the manners of the hall;</span> -<span class="i0">The rector’s harshness, and the mischief made</span> -<span class="i0">By chiding those whom preachers should persuade:</span> -<span class="i0">This led the youth to views of easy life,</span> -<span class="i0">A friendly patron, an obliging wife;</span> -<span class="i0">His tithe, his glebe, the garden and the steed,</span> -<span class="i0">With books as many as he wish’d to read.</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[Pg 202]</a></span> -<span class="i2">All this accorded with the uncle’s will;</span> -<span class="i0">He loved a priest compliant, easy, still;</span> -<span class="i0">Sums he had often to his favourite sent, <span class="linenum">70</span></span> -<span class="i0">“To be,” he wrote, “in manly freedom spent;</span> -<span class="i0">For well it pleased his spirit to assist</span> -<span class="i0">An honest lad, who scorn’d a Methodist.”</span> -<span class="i0">His mother too, in her maternal care,</span> -<span class="i0">Bade him of canting hypocrites beware;</span> -<span class="i0">Who from his duties would his heart seduce,</span> -<span class="i0">And make his talents of no earthly use.</span> -<span class="i2">Soon must a trial of his worth be made—</span> -<span class="i0">The ancient priest is to the tomb convey’d;</span> -<span class="i0">And the youth summon’d from a serious friend, <span class="linenum">80</span></span> -<span class="i0">His guide and host, new duties to attend.</span> -<span class="i2">Three months before, the nephew and the ’squire</span> -<span class="i0">Saw mutual worth to praise and to admire;</span> -<span class="i0">And though the one too early left his wine,</span> -<span class="i0">The other still exclaim’d—“My boy will shine:</span> -<span class="i0">Yes, I perceive that he will soon improve,</span> -<span class="i0">And I shall form the very guide I love;</span> -<span class="i0">Decent abroad, he will my name defend,</span> -<span class="i0">And, when at home, be social and unbend.”</span> -<span class="i2">The plan was specious, for the mind of James <span class="linenum">90</span></span> -<span class="i0">Accorded duly with his uncle’s schemes:</span> -<span class="i0">He then aspired not to a higher name</span> -<span class="i0">Than sober clerks of moderate talents claim;</span> -<span class="i0">Gravely to pray, and rev’rendly to preach,</span> -<span class="i0">Was all he saw, good youth! within his reach.</span> -<span class="i0">Thus may a mass of sulphur long abide,</span> -<span class="i0">Cold and inert, but, to the flame applied,</span> -<span class="i0">Kindling it blazes, and consuming turns</span> -<span class="i0">To smoke and poison, as it boils and burns.</span> -<span class="i2">James, leaving college, to a preacher stray’d; <span class="linenum">100</span></span> -<span class="i0">What call’d, he knew not—but the call obey’d,</span> -<span class="i0">Mild, idle, pensive, ever led by those</span> -<span class="i0">Who could some specious novelty propose;</span> -<span class="i0">Humbly he listen’d, while the preacher dwelt</span> -<span class="i0">On touching themes, and strong emotions felt;</span> -<span class="i0">And in this night was fix’d that pliant will</span> -<span class="i0">To one sole point, and he retains it still.</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[Pg 203]</a></span> -<span class="i2">At first his care was to himself confined;</span> -<span class="i0">Himself assured, he gave it to mankind:</span> -<span class="i0">His zeal grew active—honest, earnest zeal, <span class="linenum">110</span></span> -<span class="i0">And comfort dealt to him, he long’d to deal;</span> -<span class="i0">He to his favourite preacher now withdrew,</span> -<span class="i0">Was taught to teach, instructed to subdue;</span> -<span class="i0">And train’d for ghostly warfare, when the call</span> -<span class="i0">Of his new duties reach’d him from the hall.</span> -<span class="i2">Now to the ’squire, although alert and stout,</span> -<span class="i0">Came unexpected an attack of gout;</span> -<span class="i0">And the grieved patron felt such serious pain,</span> -<span class="i0">He never thought to see a church again.</span> -<span class="i0">Thrice had the youthful rector taught the crowd, <span class="linenum">120</span></span> -<span class="i0">Whose growing numbers spoke his powers aloud,</span> -<span class="i0">Before the patron could himself rejoice</span> -<span class="i0">(His pain still lingering) in the general voice;</span> -<span class="i0">For he imputed all this early fame</span> -<span class="i0">To graceful manner, and the well-known name;</span> -<span class="i0">And to himself assumed a share of praise,</span> -<span class="i0">For worth and talents he was pleased to raise.</span> -<span class="i2">A month had flown, and with it fled disease;</span> -<span class="i0">What pleased before, began again to please;</span> -<span class="i0">Emerging daily from his chamber’s gloom, <span class="linenum">130</span></span> -<span class="i0">He found his old sensations hurrying home;</span> -<span class="i0">Then call’d his nephew, and exclaim’d, “My boy,</span> -<span class="i0">Let us again the balm of life enjoy;</span> -<span class="i0">The foe has left me, and I deem it right,</span> -<span class="i0">Should he return, to arm me for the fight.”</span> -<span class="i2">Thus spoke the ’squire, the favourite nymph stood by,</span> -<span class="i0">And view’d the priest with insult in her eye.</span> -<span class="i0">She thrice had heard him when he boldly spoke</span> -<span class="i0">On dangerous points, and fear’d he would revoke;</span> -<span class="i0">For James she loved not—and her manner told, <span class="linenum">140</span></span> -<span class="i0">“This warm affection will be quickly cold.”</span> -<span class="i0">And still she fear’d impression might be made</span> -<span class="i0">Upon a subject nervous and decay’d;</span> -<span class="i0">She knew her danger, and had no desire</span> -<span class="i0">Of reformation in the gallant ’squire;</span> -<span class="i0">And felt an envious pleasure in her breast</span> -<span class="i0">To see the rector daunted and distress’d.</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[Pg 204]</a></span> -<span class="i2">Again the uncle to the youth applied—</span> -<span class="i0">“Cast, my dear lad, that cursed gloom aside:</span> -<span class="i0">There are for all things time and place; appear <span class="linenum">150</span></span> -<span class="i0">Grave in your pulpit, and be merry here.</span> -<span class="i0">Now take your wine—for woes a sure resource,</span> -<span class="i0">And the best prelude to a long discourse.”</span> -<span class="i2">James half obey’d, but cast an angry eye</span> -<span class="i0">On the fair lass, who still stood watchful by;</span> -<span class="i0">Resolving thus, “I have my fears—but still</span> -<span class="i0">I must perform my duties, and I will;</span> -<span class="i0">No love, no interest, shall my mind control;</span> -<span class="i0">Better to lose my comforts than my soul;</span> -<span class="i0">Better my uncle’s favour to abjure, <span class="linenum">160</span></span> -<span class="i0">Than the upbraidings of my heart endure.”</span> -<span class="i2">He took his glass, and then address’d the ’squire:</span> -<span class="i0">“I feel not well, permit me to retire.”</span> -<span class="i0">The ’squire conceived that the ensuing day</span> -<span class="i0">Gave him these terrors for the grand essay,</span> -<span class="i0">When he himself should this young preacher try,</span> -<span class="i0">And stand before him with observant eye;</span> -<span class="i0">This raised compassion in his manly breast,</span> -<span class="i0">And he would send the rector to his rest;</span> -<span class="i0">Yet first, in soothing voice—“A moment stay, <span class="linenum">170</span></span> -<span class="i0">And these suggestions of a friend obey;</span> -<span class="i0">Treasure these hints, if fame or peace you prize—</span> -<span class="i0">The bottle emptied, I shall close my eyes.</span> -<span class="i2">“On every priest a two-fold care attends,</span> -<span class="i0">To prove his talents, and insure his friends:</span> -<span class="i0">First, of the first—your stores at once produce,</span> -<span class="i0">And bring your reading to its proper use;</span> -<span class="i0">On doctrines dwell, and every point enforce</span> -<span class="i0">By quoting much, the scholar’s sure resource;</span> -<span class="i0">For he alone can show us on each head <span class="linenum">180</span></span> -<span class="i0">What ancient schoolmen and sage fathers said:</span> -<span class="i0">No worth has knowledge, if you fail to show</span> -<span class="i0">How well you studied, and how much you know.</span> -<span class="i0">Is faith your subject, and you judge it right</span> -<span class="i0">On theme so dark to cast a ray of light:</span> -<span class="i0">Be it that faith the orthodox maintain,</span> -<span class="i0">Found in the rubrick, what the creeds explain;</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[Pg 205]</a></span> -<span class="i0">Fail not to show us on this ancient faith</span> -<span class="i0">(And quote the passage) what some martyr saith.</span> -<span class="i0">Dwell not one moment on a faith that shocks <span class="linenum">190</span></span> -<span class="i0">The minds of men sincere and orthodox:</span> -<span class="i0">That gloomy faith, that robs the wounded mind</span> -<span class="i0">Of all the comfort it was wont to find</span> -<span class="i0">From virtuous acts, and to the soul denies</span> -<span class="i0">Its proper due for alms and charities;</span> -<span class="i0">That partial faith, that, weighing sins alone,</span> -<span class="i0">Lets not a virtue for a fault atone;</span> -<span class="i0">That starving faith, that would our tables clear,</span> -<span class="i0">And make one dreadful Lent of all the year;</span> -<span class="i0">And cruel too, for this is faith that rends <span class="linenum">200</span></span> -<span class="i0">Confiding beauties from protecting friends;</span> -<span class="i0">A faith that all embracing, what a gloom</span> -<span class="i0">Deep and terrific o’er the land would come!</span> -<span class="i0">What scenes of horror would that time disclose!</span> -<span class="i0">No sight but misery, and no sound but woes;</span> -<span class="i0">Your nobler faith, in loftier style convey’d,</span> -<span class="i0">Shall be with praise and admiration paid.</span> -<span class="i0">On points like these your hearers all admire</span> -<span class="i0">A preacher’s depth, and nothing more require;</span> -<span class="i0">Shall we a studious youth to college send, <span class="linenum">210</span></span> -<span class="i0">That every clown his words may comprehend?</span> -<span class="i0">’Tis for your glory, when your hearers own</span> -<span class="i0">Your learning matchless, but the sense unknown.</span> -<span class="i2">“Thus honour gain’d, learn now to gain a friend,</span> -<span class="i0">And the sure way is—never to offend;</span> -<span class="i0">For, James, consider—what your neighbours do</span> -<span class="i0">Is their own business, and concerns not you.</span> -<span class="i0">Shun all resemblance to that forward race</span> -<span class="i0">Who preach of sins before a sinner’s face;</span> -<span class="i0">And seem as if they overlook’d a pew, <span class="linenum">220</span></span> -<span class="i0">Only to drag a failing man in view.</span> -<span class="i0">Much should I feel, when groaning in disease,</span> -<span class="i0">If a rough hand upon my limb should seize;</span> -<span class="i0">But great my anger, if this hand were found</span> -<span class="i0">The very doctor’s, who should make it sound;</span> -<span class="i0">So feel our minds, young priest, so doubly feel,</span> -<span class="i0">When hurt by those whose office is to heal.</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[Pg 206]</a></span> -<span class="i2">“Yet of our duties you must something tell,</span> -<span class="i0">And must at times on sin and frailty dwell;</span> -<span class="i0">Here you may preach in easy, flowing style, <span class="linenum">230</span></span> -<span class="i0">How errors cloud us, and how sins defile;</span> -<span class="i0">Here bring persuasive tropes and figures forth,</span> -<span class="i0">To show the poor that wealth is nothing worth;</span> -<span class="i0">That they, in fact, possess an ample share</span> -<span class="i0">Of the world’s good, and feel not half its care;</span> -<span class="i0">Give them this comfort, and, indeed, my gout</span> -<span class="i0">In its full vigour causes me some doubt;</span> -<span class="i0">And let it always, for your zeal, suffice,</span> -<span class="i0">That vice you combat, in the abstract—vice:</span> -<span class="i0">The very captious will be quiet then; <span class="linenum">240</span></span> -<span class="i0">We all confess we are offending men.</span> -<span class="i0">In lashing sin, of every stroke beware,</span> -<span class="i0">For sinners feel, and sinners you must spare;</span> -<span class="i0">In general satire, every man perceives</span> -<span class="i0">A slight attack, yet neither fears nor grieves;</span> -<span class="i0">But name th’ offence, and you absolve the rest,</span> -<span class="i0">And point the dagger at a single breast.</span> -<span class="i2">“Yet are there sinners of a class so low,</span> -<span class="i0">That you with safety may the lash bestow:</span> -<span class="i0">Poachers, and drunkards, idle rogues, who feed <span class="linenum">250</span></span> -<span class="i0">At others’ cost, a mark’d correction need;</span> -<span class="i0">And all the better sort, who see your zeal,</span> -<span class="i0">Will love and reverence for their pastor feel;</span> -<span class="i0">Reverence for one who can inflict the smart,</span> -<span class="i0">And love, because he deals them not a part.</span> -<span class="i2">“Remember well what love and age advise;</span> -<span class="i0">A quiet rector is a parish prize,</span> -<span class="i0">Who in his learning has a decent pride;</span> -<span class="i0">Who to his people is a gentle guide;</span> -<span class="i0">Who only hints at failings that he sees; <span class="ws11">}</span><span class="linenum">260</span></span> -<span class="i0">Who loves his glebe, his patron, and his ease,<span class="ws6">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">And finds the way to fame and profit is to please.” }</span> -<span class="i2">The nephew answer’d not, except a sigh</span> -<span class="i0">And look of sorrow might be term’d reply;</span> -<span class="i0">He saw the fearful hazard of his state,</span> -<span class="i0">And held with truth and safety strong debate;</span> -<span class="i0">Nor long he reason’d, for the zealous youth</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[Pg 207]</a></span> -<span class="i0">Resolved, though timid, to profess the truth;</span> -<span class="i0">And, though his friend should like a lion roar,</span> -<span class="i0">Truth would he preach, and neither less nor more. <span class="linenum">270</span></span> -<span class="i2">The bells had toll’d—arrived the time of prayer,</span> -<span class="i0">The flock assembled, and the ’squire was there:</span> -<span class="i0">And now can poet sing, or proseman say,</span> -<span class="i0">The disappointment of that trying day?</span> -<span class="i2">As he who long had train’d a favourite steed</span> -<span class="i0">(Whose blood and bone gave promise of his speed),</span> -<span class="i0">Sanguine with hope, he runs with partial eye</span> -<span class="i0">O’er every feature, and his bets are high;</span> -<span class="i0">Of triumph sure, he sees the rivals start,</span> -<span class="i0">And waits their coming with exulting heart; <span class="linenum">280</span></span> -<span class="i0">Forestalling glory, with impatient glance,</span> -<span class="i0">And sure to see his conquering steed advance;</span> -<span class="i0">The conquering steed advances—luckless day!</span> -<span class="i0">A rival’s Herod bears the prize away;</span> -<span class="i0">Nor second his, nor third, but lagging last,</span> -<span class="i0">With hanging head he comes, by all surpass’d;</span> -<span class="i0">Surprise and wrath the owner’s mind inflame,</span> -<span class="i0">Love turns to scorn, and glory ends in shame:—</span> -<span class="i0">Thus waited, high in hope, the partial ’squire,</span> -<span class="i0">Eager to hear, impatient to admire. <span class="linenum">290</span></span> -<span class="i0">When the young preacher in the tones that find</span> -<span class="i0">A certain passage to the kindling mind,</span> -<span class="i0">With air and accent strange, impressive, sad,</span> -<span class="i0">Alarm’d the judge—he trembled for the lad;</span> -<span class="i0">But when the text announced the power of grace,  }</span> -<span class="i0">Amazement scowl’d upon his clouded face, <span class="ws6">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">At this degenerate son of his illustrious race;<span class="ws6">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Staring he stood, till hope again arose,</span> -<span class="i0">That James might well define the words he chose:</span> -<span class="i0">For this he listen’d—but, alas! he found <span class="linenum">300</span></span> -<span class="i0">The preacher always on forbidden ground.</span> -<span class="i2">And now the uncle left the hated pew,</span> -<span class="i0">With James, and James’s conduct in his view.</span> -<span class="i0">A long farewell to all his favourite schemes!<span class="ws3">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">For now no crazed fanatic’s frantic dreams<span class="ws4">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Seem’d vile as James’s conduct, or as James. }</span> -<span class="i0">All he had long derided, hated, fear’d,</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[Pg 208]</a></span> -<span class="i0">This from the chosen youth the uncle heard—</span> -<span class="i0">The needless pause, the fierce disorder’d air,</span> -<span class="i0">The groan for sin, the vehemence of prayer, <span class="linenum">310</span></span> -<span class="i0">Gave birth to wrath, that, in a long discourse</span> -<span class="i0">Of grace, triumphant rose to four-fold force.</span> -<span class="i0">He found his thoughts despised, his rules transgress’d; }</span> -<span class="i0">And, while the anger kindled in his breast, <span class="ws11">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">The pain must be endured that could not be express’d. }</span> -<span class="i0">Each new idea more inflamed his ire,</span> -<span class="i0">As fuel thrown upon a rising fire:</span> -<span class="i0">A hearer yet, he sought by threatening sign</span> -<span class="i0">To ease his heart, and awe the young divine;</span> -<span class="i0">But James refused those angry looks to meet, <span class="linenum">320</span></span> -<span class="i0">Till he dismiss’d his flock, and left his seat.</span> -<span class="i0">Exhausted then he felt his trembling frame,</span> -<span class="i0">But fix’d his soul—his sentiments the same;</span> -<span class="i0">And therefore wise it seem’d to fly from rage,</span> -<span class="i0">And seek for shelter in his parsonage:</span> -<span class="i0">There, if forsaken, yet consoled to find</span> -<span class="i0">Some comforts left, though not a few resign’d;</span> -<span class="i0">There, if he lost an erring parent’s love,</span> -<span class="i0">An honest conscience must the cause approve;</span> -<span class="i0">If the nice palate were no longer fed, <span class="linenum">330</span></span> -<span class="i0">The mind enjoy’d delicious thoughts instead;</span> -<span class="i0">And if some part of earthly good was flown,</span> -<span class="i0">Still was the tithe of ten good farms his own.</span> -<span class="i2">Fear now, and discord, in the village reign,<span class="ws7">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">The cool remonstrate, and the meek complain;<span class="ws6">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">But there is war within, and wisdom pleads in vain. }</span> -<span class="i0">Now dreads the uncle, and proclaims his dread,</span> -<span class="i0">Lest the boy-priest should turn each rustic head;</span> -<span class="i0">The certain converts cost him certain wo;</span> -<span class="i0">The doubtful fear lest they should join the foe; <span class="linenum">340</span></span> -<span class="i0">Matrons of old, with whom he used to joke,</span> -<span class="i0">Now pass his Honour with a pious look;</span> -<span class="i0">Lasses, who met him once with lively airs,</span> -<span class="i0">Now cross his way, and gravely walk to prayers;</span> -<span class="i0">An old companion, whom he long has loved,</span> -<span class="i0">By coward fears confess’d his conscience moved;</span> -<span class="i0">As the third bottle gave its spirit forth.</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[Pg 209]</a></span> -<span class="i0">And they bore witness to departed worth,</span> -<span class="i0">The friend arose, and he too would depart—</span> -<span class="i0">“Man,” said the ’squire, “thou wert not wont to start; <span class="linenum">350</span></span> -<span class="i0">Hast thou attended to that foolish boy,</span> -<span class="i0">Who would abridge all comforts, or destroy?”</span> -<span class="i2">Yes, he had listen’d, who had slumber’d long,</span> -<span class="i0">And was convinced that something must be wrong;</span> -<span class="i0">But, though affected, still his yielding heart,</span> -<span class="i0">And craving palate, took the uncle’s part.</span> -<span class="i0">Wine now oppress’d him, who, when free from wine,</span> -<span class="i0">Could seldom clearly utter his design;</span> -<span class="i0">But, though by nature and indulgence weak,</span> -<span class="i0">Yet, half-converted, he resolved to speak; <span class="linenum">360</span></span> -<span class="i0">And, speaking, own’d, “that in his mind the youth</span> -<span class="i0">Had gifts and learning, and that truth was truth.</span> -<span class="i0">The ’squire he honour’d, and, for his poor part,</span> -<span class="i0">He hated nothing like a hollow heart;</span> -<span class="i0">But ’twas a maxim he had often tried,</span> -<span class="i0">That right was right, and there he would abide;</span> -<span class="i0">He honour’d learning, and he would confess</span> -<span class="i0">The preacher had his talents—more or less:</span> -<span class="i0">Why not agree? he thought the young divine</span> -<span class="i0">Had no such strictness—they might drink and dine, <span class="linenum">370</span></span> -<span class="i0">For them sufficient—but he said before,</span> -<span class="i0">That truth was truth, and he would drink no more.”</span> -<span class="i2">This heard the ’squire with mix’d contempt and pain;</span> -<span class="i0">He fear’d the priest this recreant sot would gain.</span> -<span class="i0">The favourite nymph, though not a convert made,</span> -<span class="i0">Conceived the man she scorn’d her cause would aid;</span> -<span class="i0">And when the spirits of her lord were low,</span> -<span class="i0">The lass presumed the wicked cause to show:</span> -<span class="i0">“It was the wretched life his Honour led,</span> -<span class="i0">And would draw vengeance on his guilty head; <span class="linenum">380</span></span> -<span class="i0">Their loves (Heav’n knew how dreadfully distress’d</span> -<span class="i0">The thought had made her!) were as yet unbless’d:</span> -<span class="i0">And till the church had sanction’d”—here she saw</span> -<span class="i0">The wrath that forced her trembling to withdraw.</span> -<span class="i2">Add to these outward ills some inward light,</span> -<span class="i0">That show’d him all was not correct and right:</span> -<span class="i0">Though now he less indulged—and to the poor,</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[Pg 210]</a></span> -<span class="i0">From day to day, sent alms from door to door;</span> -<span class="i0">Though he some ease from easy virtues found,</span> -<span class="i0">Yet conscience told him he could not compound; <span class="linenum">390</span></span> -<span class="i0">But must himself the darling sin deny, <span class="ws17">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Change the whole heart—but here a heavy sigh<span class="ws10">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Proclaim’d, “How vast the toil! and ah! how weak am I!” }</span> -<span class="i2">James too has trouble—he divided sees</span> -<span class="i0">A parish, once harmonious and at ease:</span> -<span class="i0">With him united are the simply meek,</span> -<span class="i0">The warm, the sad, the nervous, and the weak;</span> -<span class="i0">The rest his uncle’s, save the few beside,</span> -<span class="i0">Who own no doctrine, and obey no guide;</span> -<span class="i0">With stragglers of each adverse camp, who lend <span class="linenum">400</span></span> -<span class="i0">Their aid to both, but each in turn offend.</span> -<span class="i2">Though zealous still, yet he begins to feel</span> -<span class="i0">The heat too fierce, that glows in vulgar zeal;</span> -<span class="i0">With pain he hears his simple friends relate</span> -<span class="i0">Their week’s experience, and their woful state:</span> -<span class="i0">With small temptation struggling every hour,</span> -<span class="i0">And bravely battling with the tempting power;</span> -<span class="i0">His native sense is hurt by strange complaints</span> -<span class="i0">Of inward motions in these warring saints:</span> -<span class="i0">Who never cast on sinful bait a look <span class="linenum">410</span></span> -<span class="i0">But they perceive the devil at the hook.</span> -<span class="i0">Grieved, yet compell’d to smile, he finds it hard</span> -<span class="i0">Against the blunders of conceit to guard;</span> -<span class="i0">He sighs to hear the jests his converts cause,</span> -<span class="i0">He cannot give their erring zeal applause;</span> -<span class="i0">But finds it inconsistent to condemn</span> -<span class="i0">The flights and follies he has nursed in them:</span> -<span class="i0">These, in opposing minds, contempt produce,</span> -<span class="i0">Or mirth occasion, or provoke abuse;</span> -<span class="i0">On each momentous theme disgrace they bring, <span class="linenum">420</span></span> -<span class="i0">And give to Scorn her poison and her sting.</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[Pg 211]</a></span> -</div></div> - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> -<h3>TALE XVI.</h3> -<p class="f110"><i>THE CONFIDANT.</i></p> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poem2"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Think’st thou I’d make a life of jealousy,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To follow still the changes of the moon,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With fresh suspicion?<br /></span> -<span class="i27"><i>Othello</i>, Act III. Scene 3.<br /><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Why hast thou lost the fresh blood in thy cheeks,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And given my treasure and my rights [of] thee<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To thick-eyed musing and cursed melancholy?<br /></span> -<span class="i25">1 <i>Henry IV.</i> Act II. Scene 3.<br /><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i28">It is excellent<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To have a giant’s strength, but [it is] tyrannous<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To use it as a giant.<br /></span> -<span class="i16"><i>Measure for Measure</i>, Act II. Scene 2.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[Pg 212]</a></span> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="f120 break space-above2"><b>TALE XVI.</b></p> -<p class="f110"><i>THE CONFIDANT.</i></p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Anna was young and lovely—in her eye</span> -<span class="i0">The glance of beauty, in her cheek the dye;</span> -<span class="i0">Her shape was slender, and her features small,</span> -<span class="i0">But graceful, easy, unaffected all.</span> -<span class="i0">The liveliest tints her youthful face disclosed;</span> -<span class="i0">There beauty sparkled, and there health reposed;</span> -<span class="i0">For the pure blood that flush’d that rosy cheek</span> -<span class="i0">Spoke what the heart forbad the tongue to speak;</span> -<span class="i0">And told the feelings of that heart as well,</span> -<span class="i0">Nay, with more candour than the tongue could tell. <span class="linenum">10</span></span> -<span class="i0">Though this fair lass had with the wealthy dwelt,</span> -<span class="i0">Yet like the damsel of the cot she felt;</span> -<span class="i0">And, at the distant hint or dark surmise,</span> -<span class="i0">The blood into the mantling cheek would rise.</span> -<span class="i2">Now Anna’s station frequent terrors wrought</span> -<span class="i0">In one whose looks were with such meaning fraught;</span> -<span class="i0">For on a lady, as an humble friend,</span> -<span class="i0">It was her painful office to attend.</span> -<span class="i2">Her duties here were of the usual kind—</span> -<span class="i0">And some the body harass’d, some the mind: <span class="linenum">20</span></span> -<span class="i0">Billets she wrote, and tender stories read,</span> -<span class="i0">To make the lady sleepy in her bed;</span> -<span class="i0">She play’d at whist, but with inferior skill,</span> -<span class="i0">And heard the summons as a call to drill;</span> -<span class="i0">Music was ever pleasant till she play’d</span> -<span class="i0">At a request that no request convey’d;</span> -<span class="i0">The lady’s tales with anxious looks she heard,</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[Pg 213]</a></span> -<span class="i0">For she must witness what her friend averr’d;</span> -<span class="i0">The lady’s taste she must in all approve,</span> -<span class="i0">Hate whom she hated, whom she loved must love; <span class="linenum">30</span></span> -<span class="i0">These, with the various duties of her place,</span> -<span class="i0">With care she studied, and perform’d with grace;</span> -<span class="i0">She veil’d her troubles in a mask of ease,</span> -<span class="i0">And show’d her pleasure was a power to please.</span> -<span class="i2">Such were the damsel’s duties; she was poor—</span> -<span class="i0">Above a servant, but with service more.</span> -<span class="i0">Men on her face with careless freedom gazed,</span> -<span class="i0">Nor thought how painful was the glow they raised;</span> -<span class="i0">A wealthy few to gain her favour tried,</span> -<span class="i0">But not the favour of a grateful bride: <span class="linenum">40</span></span> -<span class="i0">They spoke their purpose with an easy air,</span> -<span class="i0">That shamed and frighten’d the dependent fair:</span> -<span class="i0">Past time she view’d, the passing time to cheat,</span> -<span class="i0">But nothing found to make the present sweet;</span> -<span class="i0">With pensive soul she read life’s future page,</span> -<span class="i0">And saw dependent, poor, repining age.</span> -<span class="i2">But who shall dare t’ assert what <i>years</i> may bring,</span> -<span class="i0">When wonders from the passing <i>hour</i> may spring?—</span> -<span class="i0">There dwelt a yeoman in the place, whose mind</span> -<span class="i0">Was gentle, generous, cultivated, kind; <span class="linenum">50</span></span> -<span class="i0">For thirty years he labour’d; fortune then</span> -<span class="i0">Placed the mild rustic with superior men:</span> -<span class="i0">A richer Stafford, who had lived to save,</span> -<span class="i0">What he had treasured to the poorer gave;</span> -<span class="i0">Who with a sober mind that treasure view’d,</span> -<span class="i0">And the slight studies of his youth renew’d.</span> -<span class="i0">He not profoundly, but discreetly read,</span> -<span class="i0">And a fair mind with useful culture fed;</span> -<span class="i0">Then thought of marriage—“But the great,” said he,</span> -<span class="i0">“I shall not suit, nor will the meaner me.” <span class="linenum">60</span></span> -<span class="i0">Anna he saw, admired her modest air;</span> -<span class="i0">He thought her virtuous, and he knew her fair;</span> -<span class="i0">Love raised his pity for her humble state,</span> -<span class="i0">And prompted wishes for her happier fate;</span> -<span class="i0">No pride in money would his feelings wound,</span> -<span class="i0">Nor vulgar manners hurt him and confound:</span> -<span class="i0">He then the lady at the hall address’d,</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[Pg 214]</a></span> -<span class="i0">Sought her consent, and his regard express’d;</span> -<span class="i0">Yet, if some cause his earnest wish denied,</span> -<span class="i0">He begg’d to know it; and he bow’d and sigh’d. <span class="linenum">70</span></span> -<span class="i2">The lady own’d that she was loth to part,</span> -<span class="i0">But praised the damsel for her gentle heart,</span> -<span class="i0">Her pleasing person, and her blooming health;</span> -<span class="i0">But ended thus, “Her virtue is her wealth.”</span> -<span class="i2">“Then is she rich!” he cried, with lively air;</span> -<span class="i0">“But whence, so please you, came a lass so fair?”</span> -<span class="i2">“A placeman’s child was Anna, one who died</span> -<span class="i0">And left a widow by afflictions tried;</span> -<span class="i0">She to support her infant daughter strove,</span> -<span class="i0">But early left the object of her love; <span class="linenum">80</span></span> -<span class="i0">Her youth, her beauty, and her orphan-state</span> -<span class="i0">Gave a kind countess interest in her fate;</span> -<span class="i0">With her she dwelt, and still might dwelling be,</span> -<span class="i0">When the earl’s folly caused the lass to flee;</span> -<span class="i0">A second friend was she compell’d to shun,</span> -<span class="i0">By the rude offers of an uncheck’d son;</span> -<span class="i0">I found her then, and with a mother’s love</span> -<span class="i0">Regard the gentle girl whom you approve.</span> -<span class="i0">Yet, e’en with me, protection is not peace;</span> -<span class="i0">Nor man’s designs, nor beauty’s trial, cease; <span class="linenum">90</span></span> -<span class="i0">Like sordid boys by costly fruit they feel:</span> -<span class="i0">They will not purchase, but they try to steal.”</span> -<span class="i2">Now this good lady, like a witness true,</span> -<span class="i0">Told but the truth, and all the truth she knew;</span> -<span class="i0">And ’tis our duty and our pain to show</span> -<span class="i0">Truth this good lady had not means to know.</span> -<span class="i0">Yes, there was lock’d within the damsel’s breast</span> -<span class="i0">A fact important to be now confess’d;</span> -<span class="i0">Gently, my muse, th’ afflicting tale relate,</span> -<span class="i0">And have some feeling for a sister’s fate. <span class="linenum">100</span></span> -<span class="i2">Where Anna dwelt, a conquering hero came—</span> -<span class="i0">An Irish captain, Sedley was his name;</span> -<span class="i0">And he too had that same prevailing art,</span> -<span class="i0">That gave soft wishes to the virgin’s heart.</span> -<span class="i0">In years they differ’d; he had thirty seen</span> -<span class="i0">When this young beauty counted just fifteen;</span> -<span class="i0">But still they were a lovely lively pair,</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[Pg 215]</a></span> -<span class="i0">And trod on earth as if they trod on air.</span> -<span class="i2">On love, delightful theme! the captain dwelt</span> -<span class="i0">With force still growing with the hopes he felt; <span class="linenum">110</span></span> -<span class="i0">But with some caution and reluctance told,</span> -<span class="i0">He had a father crafty, harsh, and old;</span> -<span class="i0">Who, as possessing much, would much expect,</span> -<span class="i0">Or both, for ever, from his love reject:</span> -<span class="i0">Why then offence to one so powerful give,</span> -<span class="i0">Who (for their comfort) had not long to live?</span> -<span class="i2">With this poor prospect the deluded maid,</span> -<span class="i0">In words confiding, was indeed betray’d;</span> -<span class="i0">And, soon as terrors in her bosom rose,</span> -<span class="i0">The hero fled; they hinder’d his repose. <span class="linenum">120</span></span> -<span class="i0">Deprived of him, she to a parent’s breast</span> -<span class="i0">Her secret trusted, and her pains impress’d:</span> -<span class="i0">Let her to town (so prudence urged) repair,</span> -<span class="i0">To shun disgrace, at least to hide it there;</span> -<span class="i0">But ere she went, the luckless damsel pray’d</span> -<span class="i0">A chosen friend might lend her timely aid:</span> -<span class="i0">“Yes! my soul’s sister, my Eliza, come,</span> -<span class="i0">Hear her last sigh, and ease thy Anna’s doom:”</span> -<span class="i0">“’Tis a fool’s wish,” the angry father cried,</span> -<span class="i0">But, lost in troubles of his own, complied; <span class="linenum">130</span></span> -<span class="i0">And dear Eliza to her friend was sent,</span> -<span class="i0">T’ indulge that wish, and be her punishment:</span> -<span class="i0">The time arrived, and brought a tenfold dread;</span> -<span class="i0">The time was past, and all the terror fled;</span> -<span class="i0">The infant died; the face resumed each charm,</span> -<span class="i0">And reason now brought trouble and alarm:</span> -<span class="i0">“Should her Eliza—no! she was too just,</span> -<span class="i0">Too good and kind—but ah! too young to trust.”</span> -<span class="i0">Anna return’d, her former place resumed,</span> -<span class="i0">And faded beauty with new grace re-bloom’d; <span class="linenum">140</span></span> -<span class="i0">And, if some whispers of the past were heard,</span> -<span class="i0">They died innoxious, as no cause appear’d;</span> -<span class="i0">But other cares on Anna’s bosom press’d,</span> -<span class="i0">She saw her father gloomy and distress’d;</span> -<span class="i0">He died o’erwhelm’d with debt, and soon was shed<span class="ws4">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">The filial sorrow o’er a mother dead: <span class="ws15">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">She sought Eliza’s arms, that faithful friend was wed; }</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[Pg 216]</a></span> -<span class="i0">Then was compassion by the countess shown,</span> -<span class="i0">And all th’ adventures of her life are known.</span> -<span class="i2">And now beyond her hopes—no longer tried <span class="linenum">150</span></span> -<span class="i0">By slavish awe—she lived a yeoman’s bride;</span> -<span class="i0">Then bless’d her lot, and with a grateful mind</span> -<span class="i0">Was careful, cheerful, vigilant, and kind.</span> -<span class="i0">The gentle husband felt supreme delight,</span> -<span class="i0">Bless’d by her joy, and happy in her sight;</span> -<span class="i0">He saw with pride in every friend and guest</span> -<span class="i0">High admiration and regard express’d;</span> -<span class="i0">With greater pride, and with superior joy,</span> -<span class="i0">He look’d exulting on his first-born boy;</span> -<span class="i0">To her fond breast the wife her infant strain’d, <span class="linenum">160</span></span> -<span class="i0">Some feelings utter’d, some were not explain’d;</span> -<span class="i0">And she enraptured with her treasure grew,</span> -<span class="i0">The sight familiar, but the pleasure new.</span> -<span class="i2">Yet there appear’d within that tranquil state</span> -<span class="i0">Some threat’ning prospect of uncertain fate;</span> -<span class="i0">Between the married when a secret lies,</span> -<span class="i0">It wakes suspicion from enforced disguise.</span> -<span class="i0">Still thought the wife upon her absent friend,</span> -<span class="i0">With all that must upon her truth depend:</span> -<span class="i0">“There is no being in the world beside, <span class="linenum">170</span></span> -<span class="i0">Who can discover what that friend will hide;</span> -<span class="i0">Who knew the fact, knew not my name or state,</span> -<span class="i0">Who these can tell cannot the fact relate;</span> -<span class="i0">But thou, Eliza, canst the whole impart,</span> -<span class="i0">And all my safety is thy generous heart.”</span> -<span class="i2">Mix’d with these fears—but light and transient these—</span> -<span class="i0">Fled years of peace, prosperity, and ease;</span> -<span class="i0">So tranquil all that scarce a gloomy day</span> -<span class="i0">For days of gloom unmix’d prepared the way.</span> -<span class="i0">One eve, the wife, still happy in her state, <span class="linenum">180</span></span> -<span class="i0">Sang gaily, thoughtless of approaching fate;</span> -<span class="i0">Then came a letter, that (received in dread</span> -<span class="i0">Not unobserved) she in confusion read;</span> -<span class="i0">The substance this—“Her friend rejoiced to find</span> -<span class="i0">That she had riches with a grateful mind;</span> -<span class="i0">While poor Eliza had from place to place</span> -<span class="i0">Been lured by hope to labour for disgrace;</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[Pg 217]</a></span> -<span class="i0">That every scheme her wandering husband tried,</span> -<span class="i0">Pain’d while he lived, and perish’d when he died.”</span> -<span class="i0">She then of want in angry style complain’d: <span class="ws16">}</span><span class="linenum">190</span></span> -<span class="i0">Her child a burthen to her life remain’d, <span class="ws19">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Her kindred shunn’d her prayers, no friend her soul sustain’d. }</span> -<span class="i2">“Yet why neglected? Dearest Anna knew</span> -<span class="i0">Her worth once tried, her friendship ever true;</span> -<span class="i0">She hoped, she trusted, though by wants oppress’d,</span> -<span class="i0">To lock the treasured secret in her breast;</span> -<span class="i0">Yet, vex’d by trouble, must apply to one,</span> -<span class="i0">For kindness due to her for kindness done.”</span> -<span class="i2">In Anna’s mind was tumult; in her face</span> -<span class="i0">Flushings of dread had momentary place. <span class="linenum">200</span></span> -<span class="i0">“I must,” she judged, “these cruel lines expose,</span> -<span class="i0">Or fears, or worse than fears, my crime disclose.”</span> -<span class="i2">The letter shown, he said, with sober smile—</span> -<span class="i0">“Anna, your friend has not a friendly style.</span> -<span class="i0">Say, where could you with this fair lady dwell,</span> -<span class="i0">Who boasts of secrets that she scorns to tell?”</span> -<span class="i0">“At school,” she answer’d; he “at school!” replied;</span> -<span class="i0">“Nay, then I know the secrets you would hide:</span> -<span class="i0">Some [early] longings these, without dispute;</span> -<span class="i0">Some youthful gaspings for forbidden fruit. <span class="linenum">210</span></span> -<span class="i0">Why so disorder’d, love? are such the crimes</span> -<span class="i0">That give us sorrow in our graver times?</span> -<span class="i0">Come, take a present for your friend, and rest</span> -<span class="i0">In perfect peace—you find you are confess’d.”</span> -<span class="i2">This cloud, though past, alarm’d the conscious wife,</span> -<span class="i0">Presaging gloom and sorrow for her life;</span> -<span class="i0">Who to her answer join’d a fervent prayer,</span> -<span class="i0">That her Eliza would a sister spare:</span> -<span class="i0">If she again—but was there cause?—should send,</span> -<span class="i0">Let her direct—and then she named a friend.— <span class="linenum">220</span></span> -<span class="i0">A sad expedient, untried friends to trust,</span> -<span class="i0">And still to fear the tried may be unjust:</span> -<span class="i0">Such is his pain, who, by his debt oppress’d,</span> -<span class="i0">Seeks by new bonds a temporary rest.</span> -<span class="i2">Few were her peaceful days till Anna read</span><span class="i0">The words she dreaded, and had cause to dread:—</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[Pg 218]</a></span> -<span class="i2">“Did she believe, did she, unkind, suppose</span> -<span class="i0">That thus Eliza’s friendship was to close?</span> -<span class="i0">No! though she tried, and her desire was plain,</span> -<span class="i0">To break the friendly bond, she strove in vain: <span class="linenum">230</span></span> -<span class="i0">Ask’d she for silence? why so loud the call,</span> -<span class="i0">And yet the token of her love so small?</span> -<span class="i0">By means like these will you attempt to bind</span> -<span class="i0">And check the movements of an injured mind?</span> -<span class="i0">Poor as I am, I shall be proud to show</span> -<span class="i0">What dangerous secrets I may safely know.</span> -<span class="i0">Secrets, to men of jealous minds convey’d,</span> -<span class="i0">Have many a noble house in ruins laid;</span> -<span class="i0">Anna, I trust, although with wrongs beset,</span> -<span class="i0">And urged by want, I shall be faithful yet; <span class="linenum">240</span></span> -<span class="i0">But what temptation may from these arise,</span> -<span class="i0">To take a slighted woman by surprise,</span> -<span class="i0">Becomes a subject for your serious care—</span> -<span class="i0">For who offends, must for offence prepare.”</span> -<span class="i2">Perplex’d, dismay’d, the wife foresaw her doom;</span> -<span class="i0">A day deferr’d was yet a day to come;</span> -<span class="i0">But still, though painful her suspended state,</span> -<span class="i0">She dreaded more the crisis of her fate;</span> -<span class="i0">Better to die than Stafford’s scorn to meet,</span> -<span class="i0">And her strange friend perhaps would be discreet. <span class="linenum">250</span></span> -<span class="i0">Presents she sent, and made a strong appeal</span> -<span class="i0">To woman’s feelings, begging her to feel;</span> -<span class="i0">With too much force she wrote of jealous men,</span> -<span class="i0">And her tears falling spoke beyond the pen;</span> -<span class="i0">Eliza’s silence she again implored,</span> -<span class="i0">And promised all that prudence could afford.</span> -<span class="i2">For looks composed and careless Anna tried;</span> -<span class="i0">She seem’d in trouble, and unconscious sigh’d:</span> -<span class="i0">The faithful husband, who devoutly loved</span> -<span class="i0">His silent partner, with concern reproved: <span class="linenum">260</span></span> -<span class="i0">“What secret sorrows on my Anna press,</span> -<span class="i0">That love may not partake, nor care redress?”</span> -<span class="i0">“None, none,” she answer’d, with a look so kind,</span> -<span class="i0">That the fond man determined to be blind.</span> -<span class="i2">A few succeeding weeks of brief repose</span> -<span class="i0">In Anna’s cheek revived the faded rose;</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[Pg 219]</a></span> -<span class="i0">A hue like this the western sky displays,</span> -<span class="i0">That glows awhile, and withers as we gaze.</span> -<span class="i2">Again the friend’s tormenting letter came—</span> -<span class="i0">“The wants she suffer’d were affection’s shame; <span class="linenum">270</span></span> -<span class="i0">She with her child a life of terrors led,</span> -<span class="i0">Unhappy fruit! but of a lawful bed.</span> -<span class="i0">Her friend was tasting every bliss in life,</span> -<span class="i0">The joyful mother, and the wealthy wife;</span> -<span class="i0">While she was placed in doubt, in fear, in want,</span> -<span class="i0">To starve on trifles that the happy grant;</span> -<span class="i0">Poorly for all her faithful silence paid,</span> -<span class="i0">And tantalized by ineffectual aid.</span> -<span class="i0">She could not thus a beggar’s lot endure;</span> -<span class="i0">She wanted something permanent and sure: <span class="linenum">280</span></span> -<span class="i0">If they were friends, then equal be their lot,</span> -<span class="i0">And she was free to speak if they were not.”</span> -<span class="i2">Despair and terror seized the wife, to find</span> -<span class="i0">The artful workings of a vulgar mind:</span> -<span class="i0">Money she had not, but the hint of dress</span> -<span class="i0">Taught her new bribes, new terrors to redress;</span> -<span class="i0">She with such feeling then described her woes,</span> -<span class="i0">That envy’s self might on the view repose;</span> -<span class="i0">Then to a mother’s pains she made appeal,</span> -<span class="i0">And painted grief like one compell’d to feel. <span class="linenum">290</span></span> -<span class="i2">Yes! so she felt, that in her air, her face,</span> -<span class="i0">In every purpose, and in every place;</span> -<span class="i0">In her slow motion, in her languid mien,</span> -<span class="i0">The grief, the sickness of her soul were seen.</span> -<span class="i2">Of some mysterious ill the husband sure,</span> -<span class="i0">Desired to trace it, for he hoped to cure;</span> -<span class="i0">Something he knew obscurely, and had seen</span> -<span class="i0">His wife attend a cottage on the green;</span> -<span class="i0">Love, loth to wound, endured conjecture long,</span> -<span class="i0">Till fear would speak, and spoke in language strong. <span class="linenum">300</span></span> -<span class="i2">“All I must know, my Anna—truly know</span> -<span class="i0">Whence these emotions, terrors, troubles flow;</span> -<span class="i0">Give me thy grief, and I will fairly prove</span> -<span class="i0">Mine is no selfish, no ungenerous love.”</span> -<span class="i2">Now Anna’s soul the seat of strife became:</span> -<span class="i0">Fear with respect contended, love with shame;</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[Pg 220]</a></span> -<span class="i0">But fear, prevailing, was the ruling guide,</span> -<span class="i0">Prescribing what to show and what to hide.</span> -<span class="i2">“It is my friend,” she said—“but why disclose</span> -<span class="i0">A woman’s weakness struggling with her woes? <span class="linenum">310</span></span> -<span class="i0">Yes, she has grieved me by her fond complaints,</span> -<span class="i0">The wrongs she suffers, the distress she paints;</span> -<span class="i0">Something we do—but she afflicts me still,</span> -<span class="i0">And says, with power to help, I want the will.</span> -<span class="i0">This plaintive style I pity and excuse,</span> -<span class="i0">Help when I can, and grieve when I refuse;</span> -<span class="i0">But here my useless sorrows I resign,</span> -<span class="i0">And will be happy in a love like thine.”</span> -<span class="i2">The husband doubted; he was kind but cool:—</span> -<span class="i0">“’Tis a strong friendship to arise at school; <span class="linenum">320</span></span> -<span class="i0">Once more then, love, once more the sufferer aid—</span> -<span class="i0">I too can pity, but I must upbraid;</span> -<span class="i0">Of these vain feelings then thy bosom free,</span> -<span class="i0">Nor be o’erwhelm’d by useless sympathy.”</span> -<span class="i2">The wife again despatch’d the useless bribe,</span> -<span class="i0">Again essay’d her terrors to describe;</span> -<span class="i0">Again with kindest words entreated peace,</span> -<span class="i0">And begg’d her offerings for a time might cease.</span> -<span class="i2">A calm succeeded, but too like the one</span> -<span class="i0">That causes terror ere the storm comes on: <span class="linenum">330</span></span> -<span class="i0">A secret sorrow lived in Anna’s heart,</span> -<span class="i0">In Stafford’s mind a secret fear of art;</span> -<span class="i0">Not long they lasted—this determined foe</span> -<span class="i0">Knew all her claims, and nothing would forego;</span> -<span class="i0">Again her letter came, where Anna read,</span> -<span class="i0">“My child, one cause of my distress, is dead;</span> -<span class="i0">Heav’n has my infant.” “Heartless wretch!” she cried,</span> -<span class="i0">“Is this thy joy?”—“I am no longer tied:</span> -<span class="i0">Now will I, hast’ning to my friend, partake</span> -<span class="i0">Her cares and comforts, and no more forsake; <span class="linenum">340</span></span> -<span class="i0">Now shall we both in equal station move,</span> -<span class="i0">Save that my friend enjoys a husband’s love.”</span> -<span class="i2">Complaint and threats so strong the wife amazed,</span> -<span class="i0">Who wildly on her cottage-neighbour gazed;</span> -<span class="i0">Her tones, her trembling, first betray’d her grief;</span> -<span class="i0">When floods of tears gave anguish its relief.</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[Pg 221]</a></span> -<span class="i2">She fear’d that Stafford would refuse assent,</span> -<span class="i0">And knew her selfish friend would not relent;</span> -<span class="i0">She must petition, yet delay’d the task,</span> -<span class="i0">Ashamed, afraid, and yet compell’d to ask; <span class="linenum">350</span></span> -<span class="i0">Unknown to him some object filled her mind,</span> -<span class="i0">And, once suspicious, he became unkind.—</span> -<span class="i0">They sate one evening, each absorb’d in gloom,<span class="ws10">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">When, hark! a noise and rushing to the room,<span class="ws12">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">The friend tripp’d lightly in, and laughing said, “I come.” }</span> -<span class="i2">Anna received her with an anxious mind,</span> -<span class="i0">And meeting whisper’d, “Is Eliza kind?”</span> -<span class="i0">Reserved and cool, the husband sought to prove</span> -<span class="i0">The depth and force of this mysterious love.</span> -<span class="i0">To nought that pass’d between the stranger-friend <span class="linenum">360</span></span> -<span class="i0">And his meek partner seem’d he to attend;</span> -<span class="i0">But, anxious, listen’d to the lightest word</span> -<span class="i0">That might some knowledge of his guest afford;</span> -<span class="i0">And learn the reason one to him so dear</span> -<span class="i0">Should feel such fondness, yet betray such fear.</span> -<span class="i2">Soon he perceived this uninvited guest,</span> -<span class="i0">Unwelcome too, a sovereign power possess’d;</span> -<span class="i0">Lofty she was and careless, while the meek</span> -<span class="i0">And humbled Anna was afraid to speak:</span> -<span class="i0">As mute she listen’d with a painful smile, <span class="linenum">370</span></span> -<span class="i0">Her friend sate laughing and at ease the while,</span> -<span class="i0">Telling her idle tales with all the glee</span> -<span class="i0">Of careless and unfeeling levity.</span> -<span class="i0">With calm good sense he knew his wife endued,</span> -<span class="i0">And now with wounded pride her conduct view’d;</span> -<span class="i0">Her speech was low, her every look convey’d—</span> -<span class="i0">“I am a slave, subservient and afraid.”</span> -<span class="i0">All trace of comfort vanish’d if she spoke;</span> -<span class="i0">The noisy friend upon her purpose broke,</span> -<span class="i0">To her remarks with insolence replied, <span class="linenum">380</span></span> -<span class="i0">And her assertions doubted or denied;</span> -<span class="i0">While the meek Anna like an infant shook,</span> -<span class="i0">Wo-struck and trembling at the serpent’s look.</span> -<span class="i2">“There is,” said Stafford, “yes, there is a cause—</span> -<span class="i0">This creature frights her, overpowers and awes.”</span> -<span class="i0">Six weeks had pass’d—“In truth, my love, this friend</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[Pg 222]</a></span> -<span class="i0">Has liberal notions; what does she intend?</span> -<span class="i0">Without a hint she came, and will she stay</span> -<span class="i0">Till she receives the hint to go away?”</span> -<span class="i2">Confused the wife replied, in spite of truth, <span class="linenum">390</span></span> -<span class="i0">“I love the dear companion of my youth.”</span> -<span class="i0">“’Tis well,” said Stafford; “then your loves renew;</span> -<span class="i0">Trust me, your rivals, Anna, will be few.”</span> -<span class="i2">Though playful this, she felt too much distress’d</span> -<span class="i0">T’ admit the consolation of a jest;</span> -<span class="i0">Ill she reposed, and in her dreams would sigh</span> -<span class="i0">And, murmuring forth her anguish, beg to die;</span> -<span class="i0">With sunken eye, slow pace, and pallid cheek,</span> -<span class="i0">She look’d confusion, and she fear’d to speak.</span> -<span class="i2">All this the friend beheld, for, quick of sight, <span class="linenum">400</span></span> -<span class="i0">She knew the husband eager for her flight;</span> -<span class="i0">And that by force alone she could retain</span> -<span class="i0">The lasting comforts she had hope to gain:</span> -<span class="i0">She now perceived, to win her post for life,</span> -<span class="i0">She must infuse fresh terrors in the wife;</span> -<span class="i0">Must bid to friendship’s feebler ties adieu,</span> -<span class="i0">And boldly claim the object in her view;</span> -<span class="i0">She saw the husband’s love, and knew the power</span> -<span class="i0">Her friend might use in some propitious hour.</span> -<span class="i2">Meantime the anxious wife, from pure distress <span class="linenum">410</span></span> -<span class="i0">Assuming courage, said, “I will confess;”</span> -<span class="i0">But with her children felt a parent’s pride,</span> -<span class="i0">And sought once more the hated truth to hide.</span> -<span class="i2">Offended, grieved, impatient, Stafford bore</span> -<span class="i0">The odious change till he could bear no more.</span> -<span class="i0">A friend to truth, in speech and action plain,</span> -<span class="i0">He held all fraud and cunning in disdain;</span> -<span class="i0">But fraud to find, and falsehood to detect,</span> -<span class="i0">For once he fled to measures indirect.</span> -<span class="i2">One day the friends were seated in that room <span class="linenum">420</span></span> -<span class="i0">The guest with care adorn’d, and named her home.</span> -<span class="i0">To please the eye, there curious prints were placed,</span> -<span class="i0">And some light volumes to amuse the taste;</span> -<span class="i0">Letters and music, on a table laid,</span> -<span class="i0">The favourite studies of the fair betray’d;</span> -<span class="i0">Beneath the window was the toilet spread,</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[Pg 223]</a></span> -<span class="i0">And the fire gleam’d upon a crimson bed.</span> -<span class="i2">In Anna’s looks and falling tears were seen</span> -<span class="i0">How interesting had their subjects been:</span> -<span class="i0">“Oh! then,” resumed the friend, “I plainly find <span class="linenum">430</span></span> -<span class="i0">That you and Stafford know each other’s mind;</span> -<span class="i0">I must depart, must on the world be thrown,</span> -<span class="i0">Like one discarded, worthless and unknown;</span> -<span class="i0">But shall I carry, and to please a foe,</span> -<span class="i0">A painful secret in my bosom? No!</span> -<span class="i0">Think not your friend a reptile you may tread</span> -<span class="i0">Beneath your feet, and say, the worm is dead:</span> -<span class="i0">I have some feeling, and will not be made</span> -<span class="i0">The scorn of her whom love cannot persuade.</span> -<span class="i0">Would not your word, your slightest wish, effect <span class="linenum">440</span></span> -<span class="i0">All that I hope, petition, or expect?</span> -<span class="i0">The power you have, but you the use decline—</span> -<span class="i0">Proof that you feel not, or you fear not mine.</span> -<span class="i0">There was a time, when I, a tender maid,</span> -<span class="i0">Flew at a call, and your desires obey’d;</span> -<span class="i0">A very mother to the child became,</span> -<span class="i0">Consoled your sorrow, and conceal’d your shame;</span> -<span class="i0">But now, grown rich and happy, from the door</span> -<span class="i0">You thrust a bosom-friend, despised and poor;</span> -<span class="i0">That child alive, its mother might have known <span class="linenum">450</span></span> -<span class="i0">The hard, ungrateful spirit she has shown.”</span> -<span class="i2">Here paused the guest, and Anna cried at length—</span> -<span class="i0">“You try me, cruel friend! beyond my strength;</span> -<span class="i0">Would I had been beside my infant laid,</span> -<span class="i0">Where none would vex me, threaten, or upbraid.”</span> -<span class="i2">In Anna’s looks the friend beheld despair;</span> -<span class="i0">Her speech she soften’d, and composed her air;</span> -<span class="i0">Yet, while professing love, she answered still—</span> -<span class="i0">“You can befriend me, but you want the will.”</span> -<span class="i0">They parted thus, and Anna went her way, <span class="linenum">460</span></span> -<span class="i0">To shed her secret sorrows, and to pray.</span> -<span class="i2">Stafford, amused with books, and fond of home,</span> -<span class="i0">By reading oft dispell’d the evening gloom;</span> -<span class="i0">History or tale—all heard him with delight,</span> -<span class="i0">And thus was pass’d this memorable night.</span> -<span class="i2">The listening friend bestow’d a flattering smile;</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[Pg 224]</a></span> -<span class="i0">A sleeping boy the mother held the while;</span> -<span class="i0">And, ere she fondly bore him to his bed,</span> -<span class="i0">On his fair face the tear of anguish shed.</span> -<span class="i2">And now, his task resumed, “My tale,” said he, <span class="linenum">470</span></span> -<span class="i0">“Is short and sad, short may our sadness be!”—</span> -<span class="i2">“The Caliph Harun<a name="FNanchor_8_8" id="FNanchor_8_8"></a><a href="#Footnote_8_8" class="fnanchor">[8]</a>, - as historians tell,</span> -<span class="i0">Ruled, for a tyrant, admirably well;</span> -<span class="i0">Where his own pleasures were not touch’d, to men</span> -<span class="i0">He was humane, and sometimes even then.</span> -<span class="i0">Harun was fond of fruits, and gardens fair;</span> -<span class="i0">And wo to all whom he found poaching there.</span> -<span class="i0">Among his pages was a lively boy,</span> -<span class="i0">Eager in search of every trifling joy;</span> -<span class="i0">His feelings vivid, and his fancy strong, <span class="linenum">480</span></span> -<span class="i0">He sigh’d for pleasure while he shrank from wrong;</span> -<span class="i0">When by the caliph in the garden placed,</span> -<span class="i0">He saw the treasures which he long’d to taste;</span> -<span class="i0">And oft alone he ventured to behold</span> -<span class="i0">Rich hanging fruits with rind of glowing gold;</span> -<span class="i0">Too long he staid forbidden bliss to view,</span> -<span class="i0">His virtue failing, as his longings grew;</span> -<span class="i0">Athirst and wearied with the noon-tide heat,</span> -<span class="i0">Fate to the garden led his luckless feet;</span> -<span class="i0">With eager eyes and open mouth he stood, <span class="linenum">490</span></span> -<span class="i0">Smelt the sweet breath, and touch’d the fragrant food;</span> -<span class="i0">The tempting beauty sparkling in the sun</span> -<span class="i0">Charm’d his young sense—he ate, and was undone.</span> -<span class="i0">When the fond glutton paused, his eyes around</span> -<span class="i0">He turn’d, and eyes upon him turning found;</span> -<span class="i0">Pleased he beheld the spy, a brother-page,</span> -<span class="i0">A friend allied in office and in age;</span> -<span class="i0">Who promised much that secret he would be,</span> -<span class="i0">But high the price he fix’d on secrecy.</span> -<span class="i2">“‘Were you suspected, my unhappy friend,’ <span class="linenum">500</span></span> -<span class="i0">Began the boy, ‘where would your sorrows end?</span> -<span class="i0">In all the palace there is not a page</span> -<span class="i0">The caliph would not torture in his rage:</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[Pg 225]</a></span> -<span class="i0">I think I see thee now impaled alive,</span> -<span class="i0">Writhing in pangs—but come, my friend! revive;</span> -<span class="i0">Had some beheld you, all your purse contains</span> -<span class="i0">Could not have saved you from terrific pains;</span> -<span class="i0">I scorn such meanness; and, if not in debt,</span> -<span class="i0">Would not an asper on your folly set.’</span> -<span class="i2">“The hint was strong; young Osmyn search’d his store</span> -<span class="i0">For bribes, and found he soon could bribe no more; <span class="linenum">511</span></span> -<span class="i0">That time arrived, for Osmyn’s stock was small,</span> -<span class="i0">And the young tyrant now possess’d it all;</span> -<span class="i0">The cruel youth, with his companions near,</span> -<span class="i0">Gave the broad hint that raised the sudden fear;</span> -<span class="i0">Th’ ungenerous insult now was daily shown,</span> -<span class="i0">And Osmyn’s peace and honest pride were flown;</span> -<span class="i0">Then came augmenting woes, and fancy strong</span> -<span class="i0">Drew forms of suffering, a tormenting throng;</span> -<span class="i0">He felt degraded, and the struggling mind <span class="linenum">520</span></span> -<span class="i0">Dared not be free, and could not be resign’d;</span> -<span class="i0">And all his pains and fervent prayers obtain’d</span> -<span class="i0">Was truce from insult, while the fears remain’d.</span> -<span class="i2">“One day it chanced that this degraded boy</span> -<span class="i0">And tyrant-friend were fix’d at their employ;</span> -<span class="i0">Who now had thrown restraint and form aside,</span> -<span class="i0">And for his bribe in plainer speech applied:</span> -<span class="i0">‘Long have I waited, and the last supply</span> -<span class="i0">Was but a pittance, yet how patient I!</span> -<span class="i0">But, give me now what thy first terrors gave, <span class="linenum">530</span></span> -<span class="i0">My speech shall praise thee, and my silence save.’</span> -<span class="i2">“Osmyn had found, in many a dreadful day,</span> -<span class="i0">The tyrant fiercer when he seem’d in play:</span> -<span class="i0">He begg’d forbearance: ‘I have not to give;</span> -<span class="i0">Spare me awhile, although ’tis pain to live.</span> -<span class="i0">Oh! had that stolen fruit the power possess’d</span> -<span class="i0">To war with life, I now had been at rest.’</span> -<span class="i2">“‘So fond of death,’ replied the boy, ‘’tis plain</span> -<span class="i0">Thou hast no certain notion of the pain;</span> -<span class="i0">But, to the caliph were a secret shown, <span class="linenum">540</span></span> -<span class="i0">Death has no pain that would be then unknown,’</span> -<span class="i2">“Now,” says the story, “in a closet near,</span> -<span class="i0">The monarch, seated, chanced the boys to hear;</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[Pg 226]</a></span> -<span class="i0">There oft he came, when wearied on his throne,</span> -<span class="i0">To read, sleep, listen, pray, or be alone.</span> -<span class="i2">“The tale proceeds: when first the caliph found</span> -<span class="i0">That he was robb’d, although alone, he frown’d;</span> -<span class="i0">And swore in wrath, that he would send the boy</span> -<span class="i0">Far from his notice, favour, or employ;</span> -<span class="i0">But gentler movements soothed his ruffled mind, <span class="linenum">550</span></span> -<span class="i0">And his own failings taught him to be kind.</span> -<span class="i2">“Relenting thoughts then painted Osmyn young,</span> -<span class="i0">His passion urgent, and temptation strong;</span> -<span class="i0">And that he suffer’d from that villain-spy</span> -<span class="i0">Pains worse than death till he desired to die;</span> -<span class="i0">Then, if his morals had received a stain,</span> -<span class="i0">His bitter sorrows made him pure again;</span> -<span class="i0">To Reason Pity lent her generous aid,</span> -<span class="i0">For one so tempted, troubled, and betray’d;</span> -<span class="i0">And a free pardon the glad boy restored <span class="linenum">560</span></span> -<span class="i0">To the kind presence of a gentle lord;</span> -<span class="i0">Who from his office and his country drove</span> -<span class="i0">That traitor-friend, whom pains nor pray’rs could move;</span> -<span class="i0">Who raised the fears no mortal could endure,</span> -<span class="i0">And then with cruel av’rice sold the cure.</span> -<span class="i2">“My tale is ended; but, to be applied,</span> -<span class="i0">I must describe the place where caliphs hide.”</span> -<span class="i2">Here both the females look’d alarm’d, distress’d,</span> -<span class="i0">With hurried passions hard to be express’d.</span> -<span class="i2">“It was a closet by a chamber placed, <span class="linenum">570</span></span> -<span class="i0">Where slept a lady of no vulgar taste;</span> -<span class="i0">Her friend attended in that chosen room</span> -<span class="i0">That she had honour’d and proclaim’d her home;</span> -<span class="i0">To please the eye were chosen pictures placed,</span> -<span class="i0">And some light volumes to amuse the taste;</span> -<span class="i0">Letters and music on a table laid,</span> -<span class="i0">For much the lady wrote, and often play’d;</span> -<span class="i0">Beneath the window was a toilet spread,</span> -<span class="i0">And a fire gleam’d upon a crimson bed.”</span> -<span class="i2">He paused, he rose; with troubled joy the wife <span class="linenum">580</span></span> -<span class="i0">Felt the new era of her changeful life;</span> -<span class="i0">Frankness and love appear’d in Stafford’s face,</span> -<span class="i0">And all her trouble to delight gave place.</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[Pg 227]</a></span> -<span class="i2">Twice made the guest an effort to sustain <span class="ws13">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Her feelings, twice resumed her seat in vain,<span class="ws13">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Nor could suppress her shame, nor could support her pain. }</span> -<span class="i0">Quick she retired, and all the dismal night</span> -<span class="i0">Thought of her guilt, her folly, and her flight;</span> -<span class="i0">Then sought unseen her miserable home,</span> -<span class="i0">To think of comforts lost, and brood on wants to come. <span class="linenum">590</span></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[Pg 228]</a></span> -</div></div> - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> -<h3>TALE XVII.</h3> -<p class="f110"><i>RESENTMENT.</i></p> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poem2"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i6"><i>She</i> hath a tear for pity, and a hand<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Open as day for melting charity;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Yet, notwithstanding, being incensed, is flint——<br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>Her</i> temper, therefore, must be well observ’d.<br /></span> -<span class="i25"><i>2 Henry IV.</i> Act IV. Scene 4.<br /><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i2">Three or four wenches, where I stood, cried—“Alas! good<br /></span> -<span class="i0">soul!” and forgave him with all their hearts; but [there’s] no<br /></span> -<span class="i0">heed to be taken of them; if Cæsar had stabb’d their mothers,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">they would have done no less.<br /></span> -<span class="i24"><i>Julius Cæsar</i>, Act I. Scene 2.<br /><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i10">How dost...? Art cold?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I’m cold myself—Where is the straw, my fellow?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The art of our necessities is strange,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That can make vile things precious.<br /></span> -<span class="i25"><i>King Lear</i>, Act III. Scene 2.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[Pg 229]</a></span> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="f120 break space-above2"><b>TALE XVII.</b></p> -<p class="f110"><i>RESENTMENT.</i></p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Females there are of unsuspicious mind,</span> -<span class="i0">Easy and soft, and credulous and kind;</span> -<span class="i0">Who, when offended for the twentieth time,</span> -<span class="i0">Will hear th’ offender and forgive the crime;</span> -<span class="i0">And there are others whom, like these to cheat,</span> -<span class="i0">Asks but the humblest effort of deceit;</span> -<span class="i0">But they, once injured, feel a strong disdain,</span> -<span class="i0">And, seldom pardoning, never trust again;</span> -<span class="i0">Urged by religion, they forgive—but yet</span> -<span class="i0">Guard the warm heart, and never more forget. <span class="linenum">10</span></span> -<span class="i0">Those are like wax—apply them to the fire,</span> -<span class="i0">Melting, they take th’ impressions you desire;</span> -<span class="i0">Easy to mould, and fashion as you please,</span> -<span class="i0">And again moulded with an equal ease;</span> -<span class="i0">Like smelted iron these the forms retain,</span> -<span class="i0">But once impress’d will never melt again.</span> -<span class="i2">A busy port a serious merchant made</span> -<span class="i0">His chosen place to recommence his trade;</span> -<span class="i0">And brought his lady, who, their children dead,</span> -<span class="i0">Their native seat of recent sorrow fled. <span class="linenum">20</span></span> -<span class="i0">The husband duly on the quay was seen;</span> -<span class="i0">The wife at home became at length serene;</span> -<span class="i0">There in short time the social couple grew</span> -<span class="i0">With all acquainted, friendly with a few;</span> -<span class="i0">When the good lady, by disease assail’d,</span> -<span class="i0">In vain resisted—hope and science fail’d.</span> -<span class="i0">Then spake the female friends, by pity led,</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[Pg 230]</a></span> -<span class="i0">“Poor merchant Paul! what think ye? will he wed?</span> -<span class="i0">A quiet, easy, kind, religious man,</span> -<span class="i0">Thus can he rest?—I wonder if he can.” <span class="linenum">30</span></span> -<span class="i2">He too, as grief subsided in his mind,</span> -<span class="i0">Gave place to notions of congenial kind;</span> -<span class="i0">Grave was the man, as we have told before;</span> -<span class="i0">His years were forty—he might pass for more;</span> -<span class="i0">Composed his features were, his stature low,</span> -<span class="i0">His air important, and his motion slow;</span> -<span class="i0">His dress became him, it was neat and plain,</span> -<span class="i0">The colour purple, and without a stain;</span> -<span class="i0">His words were few, and special was his care</span> -<span class="i0">In simplest terms his purpose to declare; <span class="linenum">40</span></span> -<span class="i0">A man more civil, sober, and discreet,</span> -<span class="i0">More grave and courteous, you could seldom meet.</span> -<span class="i0">Though frugal he, yet sumptuous was his board,</span> -<span class="i0">As if to prove how much he could afford;</span> -<span class="i0">For, though reserved himself, he loved to see</span> -<span class="i0">His table plenteous, and his neighbours free.</span> -<span class="i0">Among these friends he sat in solemn style,</span> -<span class="i0">And rarely soften’d to a sober smile;</span> -<span class="i0">For this observant friends their reasons gave—</span> -<span class="i0">“Concerns so vast would make the idlest grave; <span class="linenum">50</span></span> -<span class="i0">And for such man to be of language free,</span> -<span class="i0">Would seem incongruous as a singing tree:</span> -<span class="i0">Trees have their music, but the birds they shield</span> -<span class="i0">The pleasing tribute for protection yield;</span> -<span class="i0">Each ample tree the tuneful choir defends,</span> -<span class="i0">As this rich merchant cheers his happy friends!”</span> -<span class="i2">In the same town it was his chance to meet</span> -<span class="i0">A gentle lady, with a mind discreet;</span> -<span class="i0">Neither in life’s decline, nor bloom of youth,</span> -<span class="i0">One fam’d for maiden modesty and truth. <span class="linenum">60</span></span> -<span class="i0">By nature cool, in pious habits bred,</span> -<span class="i0">She look’d on lovers with a virgin’s dread:</span> -<span class="i0">Deceivers, rakes, and libertines were they,</span> -<span class="i0">And harmless beauty their pursuit and prey;</span> -<span class="i0">As bad as giants in the ancient times</span> -<span class="i0">Were modern lovers, and the same their crimes.</span> -<span class="i0">Soon as she heard of her all-conquering charms,</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[Pg 231]</a></span> -<span class="i0">At once she fled to her defensive arms;</span> -<span class="i0">Conn’d o’er the tales her maiden aunt had told,</span> -<span class="i0">And, statue-like, was motionless and cold; <span class="linenum">70</span></span> -<span class="i0">From prayer of love, like that Pygmalion pray’d,</span> -<span class="i0">Ere the hard stone became the yielding maid,</span> -<span class="i0">A different change in this chaste nymph ensued,</span> -<span class="i0">And turn’d to stone the breathing flesh and blood.</span> -<span class="i0">Whatever youth described his wounded heart,</span> -<span class="i0">“He came to rob her, and she scorn’d his art;</span> -<span class="i0">And who of raptures once presumed to speak,</span> -<span class="i0">Told listening maids he thought them fond and weak.</span> -<span class="i0">But should a worthy man his hopes display</span> -<span class="i0">In few plain words, and beg a <i>yes</i> or <i>nay</i>, <span class="linenum">80</span></span> -<span class="i0">He would deserve an answer just and plain, }</span> -<span class="i0">Since adulation only moved disdain—<span class="ws6">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Sir, if my friends object not, come again.”<span class="ws3">}</span></span> -<span class="i2">Hence, our grave lover, though he liked the face,</span> -<span class="i0">Praised not a feature—dwelt not on a grace;</span> -<span class="i0">But in the simplest terms declared his state:</span> -<span class="i0">“A widow’d man, who wish’d a virtuous mate;</span> -<span class="i0">Who fear’d neglect, and was compell’d to trust</span> -<span class="i0">Dependents wasteful, idle, or unjust;</span> -<span class="i0">Or, should they not the trusted stores destroy, <span class="linenum">90</span></span> -<span class="i0">At best, they could not help him to enjoy;</span> -<span class="i0">But with her person and her prudence blest,</span> -<span class="i0">His acts would prosper, and his soul have rest.</span> -<span class="i0">Would she be his?”—“Why, that was much to say;</span> -<span class="i0">She would consider; he awhile might stay;</span> -<span class="i0">She liked his manners, and believed his word;</span> -<span class="i0">He did not flatter, flattery she abhorr’d;</span> -<span class="i0">It was her happy lot in peace to dwell—</span> -<span class="i0">Would change make better what was now so well?</span> -<span class="i0">But she would ponder.”—-“This,” he said, “was kind,” <span class="linenum">100</span></span> -<span class="i0">And begg’d to know “when she had fix’d her mind.”</span> -<span class="i2">Romantic maidens would have scorn’d the air,</span> -<span class="i0">And the cool prudence of a mind so fair;</span> -<span class="i0">But well it pleased this wiser maid to find</span> -<span class="i0">Her own mild virtues in her lover’s mind.</span> -<span class="i2">His worldly wealth she sought, and quickly grew</span> -<span class="i0">Pleased with her search, and happy in the view</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[Pg 232]</a></span> -<span class="i0">Of vessels freighted with abundant stores,</span> -<span class="i0">Of rooms whose treasures press’d the groaning floors;</span> -<span class="i0">And he of clerks and servants could display <span class="linenum">110</span></span> -<span class="i0">A little army, on a public day:</span> -<span class="i0">Was this a man like needy bard to speak</span> -<span class="i0">Of balmy lip, bright eye, or rosy cheek?</span> -<span class="i2">The sum appointed for her widow’d state,</span> -<span class="i0">Fix’d by her friend, excited no debate;</span> -<span class="i0">Then the kind lady gave her hand and heart,</span> -<span class="i0">And, never finding, never dealt with art:</span> -<span class="i0">In his engagements she had no concern;</span> -<span class="i0">He taught her not, nor had she wish to learn:</span> -<span class="i0">On him in all occasions she relied, <span class="linenum">120</span></span> -<span class="i0">His word her surety, and his worth her pride.</span> -<span class="i2">When ship was launch’d, and merchant Paul had share,</span> -<span class="i0">A bounteous feast became the lady’s care;</span> -<span class="i0">Who then her entry to the dinner made,</span> -<span class="i0">In costly raiment, and with kind parade.</span> -<span class="i2">Call’d by this duty on a certain day,</span> -<span class="i0">And robed to grace it in a rich array,</span> -<span class="i0">Forth from her room with measured step she came,</span> -<span class="i0">Proud of th’ event, and stately look’d the dame.</span> -<span class="i0">The husband met her at his study-door— <span class="linenum">130</span></span> -<span class="i0">“This way, my love—one moment and no more:</span> -<span class="i0">A trifling business—you will understand,</span> -<span class="i0">The law requires that you affix your hand;</span> -<span class="i0">But first attend, and you shall learn the cause</span> -<span class="i0">Why forms like these have been prescribed by laws:”</span> -<span class="i0">Then from his chair a man in black arose,</span> -<span class="i0">And with much quickness hurried off his prose:</span> -<span class="i0">That “Ellen Paul the wife, and so forth, freed</span> -<span class="i0">From all control, her own the act and deed,</span> -<span class="i0">And forasmuch”——said she, “I’ve no distrust, <span class="linenum">140</span></span> -<span class="i0">For he that asks it is discreet and just;</span> -<span class="i0">Our friends are waiting—where am I to sign?—</span> -<span class="i0">There!—Now be ready when we meet to dine.”</span> -<span class="i2">This said, she hurried off in great delight:</span> -<span class="i0">The ship was launch’d, and joyful was the night.</span> -<span class="i2">Now, says the reader, and in much disdain,</span> -<span class="i0">This serious merchant was a rogue in grain;</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[Pg 233]</a></span> -<span class="i0">A treacherous wretch, an artful, sober knave,</span> -<span class="i0">And ten times worse for manners cool and grave;</span> -<span class="i0">And she devoid of sense, to set her hand <span class="linenum">150</span></span> -<span class="i0">To scoundrel deeds she could not understand.</span> -<span class="i2">Alas! ’tis true; and I in vain had tried</span> -<span class="i0">To soften crime, that cannot be denied;</span> -<span class="i0">And might have labour’d many a tedious verse</span> -<span class="i0">The latent cause of mischief to rehearse:</span> -<span class="i0">Be it confess’d, that long with troubled look</span> -<span class="i0">This trader view’d a huge accompting-book</span> -<span class="i0">(His former marriage for a time delay’d</span> -<span class="i0">The dreaded hour, the present lent its aid);</span> -<span class="i0">But he too clearly saw the evil day, <span class="linenum">160</span></span> -<span class="i0">And put the terror, by deceit, away;</span> -<span class="i0">Thus by connecting with his sorrows crime,</span> -<span class="i0">He gain’d a portion of uneasy time.—</span> -<span class="i0">All this too late the injured lady saw,</span> -<span class="i0">What law had given, again she gave to law;</span> -<span class="i0">His guilt, her folly—these at once impress’d</span> -<span class="i0">Their lasting feelings on her guileless breast.</span> -<span class="i2">“Shame I can bear,” she cried, “and want sustain,</span> -<span class="i0">But will not see this guilty wretch again:”</span> -<span class="i0">For all was lost, and he, with many a tear, <span class="linenum">170</span></span> -<span class="i0">Confess’d the fault—she turning scorn’d to hear.</span> -<span class="i0">To legal claims he yielded all his worth;</span> -<span class="i0">But small the portion, and the wrong’d were wroth,</span> -<span class="i0">Nor to their debtor would a part allow;</span> -<span class="i0">And where to live he knew not—knew not how.</span> -<span class="i2">The wife a cottage found, and thither went</span> -<span class="i0">The suppliant man, but she would not relent;</span> -<span class="i0">Thenceforth she utter’d with indignant tone,</span> -<span class="i0">“I feel the misery, and will feel alone.”</span> -<span class="i0">He would turn servant for her sake, would keep <span class="linenum">180</span></span> -<span class="i0">The poorest school; the very streets would sweep,</span> -<span class="i0">To show his love—“It was already shown,</span> -<span class="i0">And her affliction should be all her own.</span> -<span class="i0">His wants and weakness might have touch’d her heart,</span> -<span class="i0">But from his meanness she resolved to part.”</span> -<span class="i2">In a small alley was she lodged, beside</span> -<span class="i0">Its humblest poor, and at the view she cried:</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[Pg 234]</a></span> -<span class="i0">“Welcome—yes! let me welcome, if I can,</span> -<span class="i0">The fortune dealt me by this cruel man;</span> -<span class="i0">Welcome this low thatch’d roof, this shatter’d door, <span class="linenum">190</span></span> -<span class="i0">These walls of clay, this miserable floor;</span> -<span class="i0">Welcome my envied neighbours; this, to you,</span> -<span class="i0">Is all familiar—all to me is new.</span> -<span class="i0">You have no hatred to the loathsome meal;<span class="ws8">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Your firmer nerves no trembling terrors feel, <span class="ws6">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Nor, what you must expose, desire you to conceal; }</span> -<span class="i0">What your coarse feelings bear without offence,</span> -<span class="i0">Disgusts my taste, and poisons every sense.</span> -<span class="i0">Daily shall I your sad relations hear,</span> -<span class="i0">Of wanton women, and of men severe; <span class="linenum">200</span></span> -<span class="i0">There will dire curses, dreadful oaths abound,</span> -<span class="i0">And vile expressions shock me and confound;</span> -<span class="i0">Noise of dull wheels, and songs with horrid words,</span> -<span class="i0">Will be the music that this lane affords;</span> -<span class="i0">Mirth that disgusts, and quarrels that degrade</span> -<span class="i0">The human mind, must my retreat invade.</span> -<span class="i0">Hard is my fate! yet easier to sustain,</span> -<span class="i0">Than to abide with guilt and fraud again,</span> -<span class="i0">A grave impostor—who expects to meet,</span> -<span class="i0">In such grey locks and gravity, deceit? <span class="linenum">210</span></span> -<span class="i0">Where the sea rages, and the billows roar,</span> -<span class="i0">Men know the danger, and they quit the shore;</span> -<span class="i0">But, be there nothing in the way descried,</span> -<span class="i0">When o’er the rocks smooth runs the wicked tide—</span> -<span class="i0">Sinking unwarn’d, they execrate the shock,</span> -<span class="i0">And the dread peril of the sunken rock.”</span> -<span class="i2">A frowning world had now the man to dread,</span> -<span class="i0">Taught in no arts, to no profession bred;</span> -<span class="i0">Pining in grief, beset with constant care,</span> -<span class="i0">Wandering he went, to rest he knew not where. <span class="linenum">220</span></span> -<span class="i2">Meantime the wife—but she abjured the name—</span> -<span class="i0">Endured her lot, and struggled with the shame:</span> -<span class="i0">When, lo! an uncle on the mother’s side,</span> -<span class="i0">In nature something, as in blood allied,</span> -<span class="i0">Admired her firmness, his protection gave,</span> -<span class="i0">And show’d a kindness she disdain’d to crave.</span> -<span class="i2">Frugal and rich the man, and frugal grew</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[Pg 235]</a></span> -<span class="i0">The sister-mind, without a selfish view;</span> -<span class="i0">And further still—the temp’rate pair agreed</span> -<span class="i0">With what they saved the patient poor to feed. <span class="linenum">230</span></span> -<span class="i0">His whole estate, when to the grave consign’d,</span> -<span class="i0">Left the good kinsman to the kindred mind;</span> -<span class="i0">Assured that law, with spell secure and tight,</span> -<span class="i0">Had fix’d it as her own peculiar right.</span> -<span class="i2">Now to her ancient residence removed,</span> -<span class="i0">She lived as widow, well endow’d and loved;</span> -<span class="i0">Decent her table was, and to her door</span> -<span class="i0">Came daily welcomed the neglected poor.</span> -<span class="i0">The absent sick were soothed by her relief,</span> -<span class="i0">As her free bounty sought the haunts of grief; <span class="linenum">240</span></span> -<span class="i0">A plain and homely charity had she,</span> -<span class="i0">And loved the objects of her alms to see;</span> -<span class="i0">With her own hands she dress’d the savoury meat,</span> -<span class="i0">With her own fingers wrote the choice receipt;</span> -<span class="i0">She heard all tales that injured wives relate,</span> -<span class="i0">And took a double interest in their fate;</span> -<span class="i0">But of all husbands not a wretch was known</span> -<span class="i0">So vile, so mean, so cruel, as her own.</span> -<span class="i2">This bounteous lady kept an active spy,</span> -<span class="i0">To search th’ abodes of want, and to supply; <span class="linenum">250</span></span> -<span class="i0">The gentle Susan served the liberal dame—</span> -<span class="i0">Unlike their notions, yet their deeds the same:</span> -<span class="i0">No practised villain could a victim find,</span> -<span class="i0">Than this stern lady more completely blind;</span> -<span class="i0">Nor (if detected in his fraud) could meet</span> -<span class="i0">One less disposed to pardon a deceit;</span> -<span class="i0">The wrong she treasured, and on no pretence</span> -<span class="i0">Received th’ offender, or forgot th’ offence;</span> -<span class="i0">But the kind servant, to the thrice-proved knave</span> -<span class="i0">A fourth time listen’d, and the past forgave. <span class="linenum">260</span></span> -<span class="i2">First in her youth, when she was blithe and gay,</span> -<span class="i0">Came a smooth rogue, and stole her love away;</span> -<span class="i0">Then to another and another flew,</span> -<span class="i0">To boast the wanton mischief he could do.</span> -<span class="i0">Yet she forgave him, though so great her pain,</span> -<span class="i0">That she was never blithe or gay again.</span> -<span class="i2">Then came a spoiler, who, with villain-art,</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[Pg 236]</a></span> -<span class="i0">Implored her hand, and agonized her heart;</span> -<span class="i0">He seized her purse, in idle waste to spend</span> -<span class="i0">With a vile wanton, whom she call’d her friend; <span class="linenum">270</span></span> -<span class="i0">Five years she suffer’d—he had revell’d five—</span> -<span class="i0">Then came to show her he was just alive;</span> -<span class="i0">Alone he came, his vile companion dead,</span> -<span class="i0">And he, a wand’ring pauper, wanting bread;</span> -<span class="i0">His body wasted, wither’d life and limb,</span> -<span class="i0">When this kind soul became a slave to him.</span> -<span class="i0">Nay, she was sure that, should he now survive,</span> -<span class="i0">No better husband would be left alive;</span> -<span class="i0">For him she mourn’d, and then, alone and poor,</span> -<span class="i0">Sought and found comfort at her lady’s door: <span class="linenum">280</span></span> -<span class="i0">Ten years she served, and, mercy her employ,</span> -<span class="i0">Her tasks were pleasure, and her duty joy.</span> -<span class="i2">Thus lived the mistress and the maid, design’d</span> -<span class="i0">Each other’s aid—one cautious, and both kind.</span> -<span class="i0">Oft at their window, working, they would sigh</span> -<span class="i0">To see the aged and the sick go by;</span> -<span class="i0">Like wounded bees, that at their home arrive,</span> -<span class="i0">Slowly and weak, but labouring for the hive.</span> -<span class="i2">The busy people of a mason’s yard</span> -<span class="i0">The curious lady view’d with much regard; <span class="linenum">290</span></span> -<span class="i0">With steady motion she perceived them draw</span> -<span class="i0">Through blocks of stone the slowly-working saw;</span> -<span class="i0">It gave her pleasure and surprise to see</span> -<span class="i0">Among these men the signs of revelry;</span> -<span class="i0">Cold was the season, and confined their view,</span> -<span class="i0">Tedious their tasks, but merry were the crew.</span> -<span class="i0">There she beheld an aged pauper wait,</span> -<span class="i0">Patient and still, to take an humble freight;</span> -<span class="i0">Within the panniers on an ass he laid</span> -<span class="i0">The ponderous grit, and for the portion paid; <span class="linenum">300</span></span> -<span class="i0">This he re-sold, and, with each trifling gift,</span> -<span class="i0">Made shift to live, and wretched was the shift.</span> -<span class="i2">Now will it be by every reader told</span> -<span class="i0">Who was this humble trader, poor and old.—</span> -<span class="i0">In vain an author would a name suppress,</span> -<span class="i0">From the least hint a reader learns to guess;</span> -<span class="i0">Of children lost our novels sometimes treat;</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[Pg 237]</a></span> -<span class="i0">We never care—assured again to meet.</span> -<span class="i0">In vain the writer for concealment tries,</span> -<span class="i0">We trace his purpose under all disguise; <span class="linenum">310</span></span> -<span class="i0">Nay, though he tells us they are dead and gone,</span> -<span class="i0">Of whom we wot—they will appear anon;</span> -<span class="i0">Our favourites fight, are wounded, hopeless lie;</span> -<span class="i0">Survive they cannot—nay, they cannot die:</span> -<span class="i0">Now, as these tricks and stratagems are known,</span> -<span class="i0">’Tis best, at once, the simple truth to own.</span> -<span class="i2">This was the husband—in an humble shed</span> -<span class="i0">He nightly slept, and daily sought his bread.</span> -<span class="i0">Once for relief the weary man applied;</span> -<span class="i0">“Your wife is rich,” the angry vestry cried; <span class="linenum">320</span></span> -<span class="i0">Alas! he dared not to his wife complain,</span> -<span class="i0">Feeling her wrongs, and fearing her disdain:</span> -<span class="i0">By various methods he had tried to live,</span> -<span class="i0">But not one effort would subsistence give.</span> -<span class="i0">He was an usher in a school, till noise</span> -<span class="i0">Made him less able than the weaker boys;</span> -<span class="i0">On messages he went, till he in vain</span> -<span class="i0">Strove names, or words, or meanings to retain;</span> -<span class="i0">Each small employment in each neighbouring town</span> -<span class="i0">By turn he took, to lay as quickly down; <span class="linenum">330</span></span> -<span class="i0">For, such his fate, he fail’d in all he plann’d,</span> -<span class="i0">And nothing prosper’d in his luckless hand.</span> -<span class="i2">At his old home, his motive half suppress’d,</span> -<span class="i0">He sought no more for riches, but for rest:</span> -<span class="i0">There lived the bounteous wife, and at her gate</span> -<span class="i0">He saw in cheerful groups the needy wait;</span> -<span class="i0">“Had he a right with bolder hope t’ apply?”</span> -<span class="i0">He ask’d—was answer’d, and went groaning by;</span> -<span class="i0">For some remains of spirit, temper, pride,</span> -<span class="i0">Forbade a prayer he knew would be denied. <span class="linenum">340</span></span> -<span class="i2">Thus was the grieving man, with burthen’d ass,</span> -<span class="i0">Seen day by day along the street to pass:</span> -<span class="i0">“Who is he, Susan? who the poor old man?</span> -<span class="i0">He never calls—do make him, if you can.”—</span> -<span class="i0">The conscious damsel still delay’d to speak,</span> -<span class="i0">She stopp’d confused, and had her words to seek;</span> -<span class="i0">From Susan’s fears the fact her mistress knew,</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[Pg 238]</a></span> -<span class="i0">And cried—“The wretch! what scheme has he in view?</span> -<span class="i0">Is this his lot?—but let him, let him feel—</span> -<span class="i0">Who wants the courage, not the will to steal.” <span class="linenum">350</span></span> -<span class="i2">A dreadful winter came, each day severe,</span> -<span class="i0">Misty when mild, and icy cold when clear;</span> -<span class="i0">And still the humble dealer took his load,</span> -<span class="i0">Returning slow, and shivering on the road:</span> -<span class="i0">The lady, still relentless, saw him come,</span> -<span class="i0">And said—“I wonder, has the wretch a home?”—</span> -<span class="i0">“A hut! a hovel!”—“Then his fate appears</span> -<span class="i0">To suit his crime;”—“Yes, lady, not his years—</span> -<span class="i0">No! nor his sufferings—nor that form decay’d.”—</span> -<span class="i0">“Well! let the parish give its paupers aid; <span class="linenum">360</span></span> -<span class="i0">You must the vileness of his acts allow.”—</span> -<span class="i0">“And you, dear lady, that he feels it now.”—</span> -<span class="i0">“When such dissemblers on their deeds reflect,</span> -<span class="i0">Can they the pity they refused expect?</span> -<span class="i0">He that doth evil, evil shall he dread.”—<span class="ws13">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">“The snow,” quoth Susan, “falls upon his bed—<span class="ws7">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">It blows beside the thatch—it melts upon his head.”— }</span> -<span class="i0">“’Tis weakness, child, for grieving guilt to feel.”—</span> -<span class="i0">“Yes, but he never sees a wholesome meal;</span> -<span class="i0">Through his bare dress appears his shrivell’d skin, <span class="linenum">370</span></span> -<span class="i0">And ill he fares without, and worse within;</span> -<span class="i0">With that weak body, lame, diseased, and slow,</span> -<span class="i0">What cold, pain, peril, must the sufferer know!”—</span> -<span class="i0">“Think on his crime.”—“Yes, sure ’twas very wrong;</span> -<span class="i0">But look, (God bless him!) how he gropes along.”—</span> -<span class="i0">“Brought me to shame.”—“Oh! yes, I know it all— }</span> -<span class="i0">What cutting blast! and he can scarcely crawl; <span class="ws6">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">He freezes as he moves—he dies! if he should fall.<span class="ws3">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">With cruel fierceness drives this icy sleet—</span> -<span class="i0">And must a Christian perish in the street, <span class="linenum">380</span></span> -<span class="i0">In sight of Christians?—There! at last, he lies;</span> -<span class="i0">Nor unsupported can he ever rise:</span> -<span class="i0">He cannot live.”—“But is he fit to die?”—</span> -<span class="i0">Here Susan softly mutter’d a reply,</span> -<span class="i0">Look’d round the room—said something of its state,</span> -<span class="i0">Dives the rich, and Lazarus at his gate;</span> -<span class="i0">And then, aloud—“In pity do behold</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[Pg 239]</a></span> -<span class="i0">The man affrighten’d, weeping, trembling, cold.</span> -<span class="i0">Oh! how those flakes of snow their entrance win</span> -<span class="i0">Through the poor rags, and keep the frost within; <span class="linenum">390</span></span> -<span class="i0">His very heart seems frozen as he goes,</span> -<span class="i0">Leading that starved companion of his woes:</span> -<span class="i0">He tried to pray—his lips, I saw them move,</span> -<span class="i0">And he so turn’d his piteous looks above;</span> -<span class="i0">But the fierce wind the willing heart opposed,</span> -<span class="i0">And, ere he spoke, the lips in misery closed.</span> -<span class="i0">Poor suffering object! yes, for ease you pray’d,</span> -<span class="i0">And God will hear—he only, I’m afraid.”—</span> -<span class="i2">“Peace! Susan, peace! Pain ever follows sin.”—</span> -<span class="i0">“Ah! then,” thought Susan, “when will ours begin? <span class="linenum">400</span></span> -<span class="i0">When reach’d his home, to what a cheerless fire</span> -<span class="i0">And chilling bed will those cold limbs retire!</span> -<span class="i0">Yet ragged, wretched as it is, that bed</span> -<span class="i0">Takes half the space of his contracted shed;</span> -<span class="i0">I saw the thorns beside the narrow grate,</span> -<span class="i0">With straw collected in a putrid state.</span> -<span class="i0">There will he, kneeling, strive the fire to raise,</span> -<span class="i0">And that will warm him, rather than the blaze;</span> -<span class="i0">The sullen, smoky blaze, that cannot last</span> -<span class="i0">One moment after his attempt is past: <span class="linenum">410</span></span> -<span class="i0">And I so warmly and so purely laid,</span> -<span class="i0">To sink to rest—indeed, I am afraid.”—</span> -<span class="i0">“Know you his conduct?”—“Yes, indeed, I know—</span> -<span class="i0">And how he wanders in the wind and snow:</span> -<span class="i0">Safe in our rooms the threat’ning storm we hear,</span> -<span class="i0">But he feels strongly what we faintly fear.”—</span> -<span class="i0">“Wilful was rich, and he the storm defied;</span> -<span class="i0">Wilful is poor, and must the storm abide;”</span> -<span class="i0">Said the stern lady;—“’tis in vain to feel;</span> -<span class="i0">Go and prepare the chicken for our meal.” <span class="linenum">420</span></span> -<span class="i2">Susan her task reluctantly began,</span> -<span class="i0">And utter’d as she went—“The poor old man!”—</span> -<span class="i0">But while her soft and ever-yielding heart</span> -<span class="i0">Made strong protest against her lady’s part,</span> -<span class="i0">The lady’s self began to think it wrong,</span> -<span class="i0">To feel so wrathful and resent so long.</span> -<span class="i2">“No more the wretch would she receive again,</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[Pg 240]</a></span> -<span class="i0">No more behold him—but she would sustain;</span> -<span class="i0">Great his offence, and evil was his mind—</span> -<span class="i0">But he had suffer’d, and she would be kind: <span class="linenum">430</span></span> -<span class="i0">She spurn’d such baseness, and she found within</span> -<span class="i0">A fair acquittal from so foul a sin;</span> -<span class="i0">Yet she too err’d, and must of Heaven expect</span> -<span class="i0">To be rejected, him should she reject.”</span> -<span class="i2">Susan was summon’d—“I’m about to do</span> -<span class="i0">A foolish act, in part seduced by you:</span> -<span class="i0">Go to the creature—say that I intend,</span> -<span class="i0">Foe to his sins, to be his sorrow’s friend;</span> -<span class="i0">Take, for his present comforts, food and wine,</span> -<span class="i0">And mark his feelings at this act of mine; <span class="linenum">440</span></span> -<span class="i0">Observe if shame be o’er his features spread,</span> -<span class="i0">By his own victim to be soothed and fed;</span> -<span class="i0">But, this inform him, that it is not love</span> -<span class="i0">That prompts my heart, that duties only move.</span> -<span class="i0">Say, that no merits in his favour plead,</span> -<span class="i0">But miseries only, and his abject need;</span> -<span class="i0">Nor bring me grov’ling thanks, nor high-flown praise;</span> -<span class="i0">I would his spirits, not his fancy raise.</span> -<span class="i0">Give him no hope that I shall ever more</span> -<span class="i0">A man so vile to my esteem restore; <span class="linenum">450</span></span> -<span class="i0">But warn him rather, that, in time of rest,</span> -<span class="i0">His crimes be all remember’d and confess’d:</span> -<span class="i0">I know not all that form the sinner’s debt,</span> -<span class="i0">But there is one that he must not forget.”</span> -<span class="i2">The mind of Susan prompted her with speed</span> -<span class="i0">To act her part in every courteous deed:</span> -<span class="i0">All that was kind she was prepared to say,</span> -<span class="i0">And keep the lecture for a future day;</span> -<span class="i0">When he had all life’s comforts by his side,</span> -<span class="i0">Pity might sleep, and good advice be tried. <span class="linenum">460</span></span> -<span class="i2">This done, the mistress felt disposed to look,</span> -<span class="i0">As self-approving, on a pious book:</span> -<span class="i0">Yet, to her native bias still inclined,</span> -<span class="i0">She felt her act too merciful and kind;</span> -<span class="i0">But when, long musing on the chilling scene</span> -<span class="i0">So lately past—the frost and sleet so keen—</span> -<span class="i0">The man’s whole misery in a single view—</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[Pg 241]</a></span> -<span class="i0">Yes! she could think some pity was his due.</span> -<span class="i2">Thus fix’d, she heard not her attendant glide</span> -<span class="i0">With soft slow step—till, standing by her side, <span class="linenum">470</span></span> -<span class="i0">The trembling servant gasp’d for breath, and shed</span> -<span class="i0">Relieving tears, then utter’d—-“He is dead!”</span> -<span class="i2">“Dead!” said the startled lady; “Yes, he fell</span> -<span class="i0">Close at the door where he was wont to dwell;</span> -<span class="i0">There his sole friend, the ass, was standing by,</span> -<span class="i0">Half-dead himself, to see his master die.”</span> -<span class="i2">“Expired he then, good Heaven! for want of food?”—</span> -<span class="i0">“No! crusts and water in a corner stood;—</span> -<span class="i0">To have this plenty, and to wait so long,</span> -<span class="i0">And to be right too late, is doubly wrong: <span class="linenum">480</span></span> -<span class="i0">Then, every day to see him totter by,</span> -<span class="i0">And to forbear—Oh! what a heart had I!”—</span> -<span class="i2">“Blame me not, child; I tremble at the news.”—</span> -<span class="i0">“’Tis my own heart,” said Susan, “I accuse:</span> -<span class="i0">To have this money in my purse—to know</span> -<span class="i0">What grief was his, and what to grief we owe;</span> -<span class="i0">To see him often, always to conceive</span> -<span class="i0">How he must pine and languish, groan and grieve;</span> -<span class="i0">And every day in ease and peace to dine</span> -<span class="i0">And rest in comfort!—what a heart is mine!”— <span class="linenum">490</span></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[Pg 242]</a></span> -</div></div> - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> -<h3>TALE XVIII.</h3> -<p class="f110"><i>THE WAGER.</i></p> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poem2"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">’Tis thought your deer doth hold you at a bay.<br /></span> -<span class="i16"><i>Taming</i> [<i>of</i>] <i>the Shrew</i>, Act V. Scene 2.<br /><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i4">I choose her for myself:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">If she and I are pleased, what’s that to you?<br /></span> -<span class="i28">———, Act II. Scene 1.<br /><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i4">Let’s send each one to his wife,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And he whose wife is most obedient<br /></span> -<span class="i0">[......]<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Shall win the wager.<br /></span> -<span class="i28">———, Act V. Scene 2.<br /><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i4">Now by the world it is a lusty wench,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I love her ten times more than e’er I did.<br /></span> -<span class="i28">———, Act II. Scene 1.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[Pg 243]</a></span> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="f120 break space-above2"><b>TALE XVIII.</b></p> -<p class="f110"><i>THE WAGER.</i></p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Counter and Clubb were men in trade, whose pains,</span> -<span class="i0">Credit, and prudence, brought them constant gains;</span> -<span class="i0">Partners and punctual, every friend agreed</span> -<span class="i0">Counter and Clubb were men who must succeed.</span> -<span class="i0">When they had fix’d some little time in life,</span> -<span class="i0">Each thought of taking to himself a wife;</span> -<span class="i0">As men in trade alike, as men in love</span> -<span class="i0">They seem’d with no according views to move;</span> -<span class="i0">As certain ores in outward view the same,</span> -<span class="i0">They show’d their difference when the magnet came. <span class="linenum">10</span></span> -<span class="i0">Counter was vain; with spirit strong and high,</span> -<span class="i0">’Twas not in him like suppliant swain to sigh:</span> -<span class="i0">“His wife might o’er his men and maids preside,</span> -<span class="i0">And in her province be a judge and guide;</span> -<span class="i0">But what he thought, or did, or wish’d to do,</span> -<span class="i0">She must not know, or censure if she knew;</span> -<span class="i0">At home, abroad, by day, by night, if he</span> -<span class="i0">On aught determined, so it was to be.</span> -<span class="i0">How is a man,” he ask’d, “for business fit,</span> -<span class="i0">Who to a female can his will submit? <span class="linenum">20</span></span> -<span class="i0">Absent awhile, let no inquiring eye</span> -<span class="i0">Or plainer speech presume to question why,</span> -<span class="i0">But all be silent; and, when seen again,</span> -<span class="i0">Let all be cheerful—shall a wife complain?</span> -<span class="i0">Friends I invite, and who shall dare t’ object,</span> -<span class="i0">Or look on them with coolness or neglect?</span> -<span class="i0">No! I must ever of my house be head,</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[Pg 244]</a></span> -<span class="i0">And, thus obey’d, I condescend to wed.”</span> -<span class="i2">Clubb heard the speech—“My friend is nice,” said he;</span> -<span class="i0">“A wife with less respect will do for me. <span class="linenum">30</span></span> -<span class="i0">How is he certain such a prize to gain?<span class="ws7">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">What he approves, a lass may learn to feign,  }</span> -<span class="i0">And so affect t’ obey till she begins to reign; }</span> -<span class="i0">Awhile complying, she may vary then,</span> -<span class="i0">And be as wives of more unwary men;</span> -<span class="i0">Beside, to him who plays such lordly part,</span> -<span class="i0">How shall a tender creature yield her heart?</span> -<span class="i0">Should he the promised confidence refuse,</span> -<span class="i0">She may another more confiding choose;</span> -<span class="i0">May show her anger, yet her purpose hide, <span class="linenum">40</span></span> -<span class="i0">And wake his jealousy, and wound his pride.</span> -<span class="i0">In one so humbled, who can trace the friend?</span> -<span class="i0">I on an equal, not a slave, depend;</span> -<span class="i0">If true, my confidence is wisely placed,</span> -<span class="i0">And, being false, she only is disgraced.”</span> -<span class="i2">Clubb, with these notions, cast his eye around,</span> -<span class="i0">And one so easy soon a partner found.</span> -<span class="i0">The lady chosen was of good repute;</span> -<span class="i0">Meekness she had not, and was seldom mute;</span> -<span class="i0">Though quick to anger, still she loved to smile; <span class="linenum">50</span></span> -<span class="i0">And would be calm if men would wait awhile:</span> -<span class="i0">She knew her duty, and she loved her way,</span> -<span class="i0">More pleased in truth to govern than obey;</span> -<span class="i0">She heard her priest with reverence, and her spouse</span> -<span class="i0">As one who felt the pressure of her vows.</span> -<span class="i0">Useful and civil, all her friends confess’d—</span> -<span class="i0">Give her her way, and she would choose the best;</span> -<span class="i0">Though some indeed a sly remark would make—</span> -<span class="i0">Give it her not, and she would choose to take.</span> -<span class="i2">All this, when Clubb some cheerful months had spent, <span class="linenum">60</span></span> -<span class="i0">He saw, confess’d, and said he was content.</span> -<span class="i2">Counter meantime selected, doubted, weigh’d,</span> -<span class="i0">And then brought home a young complying maid—</span> -<span class="i0">A tender creature, full of fears as charms,</span> -<span class="i0">A beauteous nursling from its mother’s arms;</span> -<span class="i0">A soft, sweet blossom, such as men must love,</span> -<span class="i0">But to preserve must keep it in the stove.</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[Pg 245]</a></span> -<span class="i0">She had a mild, subdued, expiring look—</span> -<span class="i0">Raise but the voice, and this fair creature shook;</span> -<span class="i0">Leave her alone, she felt a thousand fears— <span class="linenum">70</span></span> -<span class="i0">Chide, and she melted into floods of tears;</span> -<span class="i0">Fondly she pleaded and would gently sigh,</span> -<span class="i0">For very pity, or she knew not why;</span> -<span class="i0">One whom to govern none could be afraid—</span> -<span class="i0">Hold up the finger, this meek thing obey’d;</span> -<span class="i0">Her happy husband had the easiest task—</span> -<span class="i0">Say but his will, no question would she ask;</span> -<span class="i0">She sought no reasons, no affairs she knew,</span> -<span class="i0">Of business spoke not, and had nought to do.</span> -<span class="i2">Oft he exclaim’d, “How meek! how mild! how kind! <span class="linenum">80</span></span> -<span class="i0">With her ’twere cruel but to seem unkind;</span> -<span class="i0">Though ever silent when I take my leave,</span> -<span class="i0">It pains my heart to think how hers will grieve;</span> -<span class="i0">’Tis heaven on earth with such a wife to dwell,</span> -<span class="i0">I am in raptures to have sped so well;</span> -<span class="i0">But let me not, my friend, your envy raise,</span> -<span class="i0">No! on my life, your patience has my praise.”</span> -<span class="i2">His friend, though silent, felt the scorn implied—</span> -<span class="i0">“What need of patience?” to himself he cried:</span> -<span class="i0">“Better a woman o’er her house to rule, <span class="linenum">90</span></span> -<span class="i0">Than a poor child just hurried from her school:</span> -<span class="i0">Who has no care, yet never lives at ease;</span> -<span class="i0">Unfit to rule, and indisposed to please;</span> -<span class="i0">What if he govern, there his boast should end,</span> -<span class="i0">No husband’s power can make a slave his friend.”</span> -<span class="i2">It was the custom of these friends to meet</span> -<span class="i0">With a few neighbours in a neighbouring street;</span> -<span class="i0">Where Counter oft-times would occasion seize,</span> -<span class="i0">To move his silent friend by words like these:</span> -<span class="i0">“A man,” said he, “if govern’d by his wife, <span class="linenum">100</span></span> -<span class="i0">Gives up his rank and dignity in life;</span> -<span class="i0">Now better fate befalls my friend and me.”—</span> -<span class="i0">He spoke, and look’d th’ approving smile to see.</span> -<span class="i2">The quiet partner, when he chose to speak,</span> -<span class="i0">Desired his friend, “another theme to seek;</span> -<span class="i0">When thus they met, he judged that state-affairs</span> -<span class="i0">And such important subjects should be theirs.”</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[Pg 246]</a></span> -<span class="i0">But still the partner, in his lighter vein,</span> -<span class="i0">Would cause in Clubb affliction or disdain;</span> -<span class="i0">It made him anxious to detect the cause <span class="linenum">110</span></span> -<span class="i0">Of all that boasting—“Wants my friend applause?</span> -<span class="i0">This plainly proves him not at perfect ease,</span> -<span class="i0">For, felt he pleasure, he would wish to please.—</span> -<span class="i0">These triumphs here for some regrets atone—</span> -<span class="i0">Men who are blest let other men alone.”</span> -<span class="i0">Thus made suspicious, he observed and saw</span> -<span class="i0">His friend each night at early hour withdraw;</span> -<span class="i0">He sometimes mention’d Juliet’s tender nerves,</span> -<span class="i0">And what attention such a wife deserves.</span> -<span class="i0">“In this,” thought Clubb, “full sure some mystery lies— }</span> -<span class="i0">He laughs at me, yet he with much complies,<span class="ws11">}</span><span class="linenum">121</span></span> -<span class="i0">And all his vaunts of bliss are proud apologies.” <span class="ws8">}</span></span> -<span class="i2">With such ideas treasured in his breast,</span> -<span class="i0">He grew composed, and let his anger rest;</span> -<span class="i0">Till Counter once (when wine so long went round</span> -<span class="i0">That friendship and discretion both were drown’d)</span> -<span class="i0">Began in teasing and triumphant mood</span> -<span class="i0">His evening banter—“Of all earthly good,</span> -<span class="i0">The best,” he said, “was an obedient spouse,</span> -<span class="i0">Such as my friend’s—that every one allows: <span class="linenum">130</span></span> -<span class="i0">What if she wishes his designs to know?</span> -<span class="i0">It is because she would her praise bestow;</span> -<span class="i0">What if she wills that he remains at home?</span> -<span class="i0">She knows that mischief may from travel come.</span> -<span class="i0">I, who am free to venture where I please,</span> -<span class="i0">Have no such kind preventing checks as these;</span> -<span class="i0">But mine is double duty, first to guide</span> -<span class="i0">Myself aright, then rule a house beside;</span> -<span class="i0">While this our friend, more happy than the free,</span> -<span class="i0">Resigns all power, and laughs at liberty.” <span class="linenum">140</span></span> -<span class="i2">“By Heaven,” said Clubb, “excuse me if I swear,</span> -<span class="i0">I’ll bet a hundred guineas, if he dare,</span> -<span class="i0">That uncontroll’d I will such freedoms take,</span> -<span class="i0">That he will fear to equal—there’s my stake.”</span> -<span class="i2">“A match!” said Counter, much by wine inflamed;</span> -<span class="i0">“But we are friends—let smaller stake be named:</span> -<span class="i0">Wine for our future meeting, that will I</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[Pg 247]</a></span> -<span class="i0">Take and no more—what peril shall we try?”</span> -<span class="i0">“Let’s to Newmarket,” Clubb replied; “or choose</span> -<span class="i0">Yourself the place, and what you like to lose; <span class="linenum">150</span></span> -<span class="i0">And he who first returns, or fears to go,</span> -<span class="i0">Forfeits his cash.”—Said Counter, “Be it so.”</span> -<span class="i2">The friends around them saw with much delight</span> -<span class="i0">The social war, and hail’d the pleasant night;</span> -<span class="i0">Nor would they further hear the cause discuss’d,</span> -<span class="i0">Afraid the recreant heart of Clubb to trust.</span> -<span class="i2">Now sober thoughts return’d as each withdrew,</span> -<span class="i0">And of the subject took a serious view.</span> -<span class="i0">“’Twas wrong,” thought Counter, “and will grieve my love;”</span> -<span class="i0">“’Twas wrong,” thought Clubb, “my wife will not approve;</span> -<span class="i0">But friends were present; I must try the thing, <span class="linenum">161</span></span> -<span class="i0">Or with my folly half the town will ring.”</span> -<span class="i2">He sought his lady—“Madam, I’m to blame,</span> -<span class="i0">But was reproach’d, and could not bear the shame;</span> -<span class="i0">Here in my folly—for ’tis best to say</span> -<span class="i0">The very truth—I’ve sworn to have my way:</span> -<span class="i0">To that Newmarket—(though I hate the place,</span> -<span class="i0">And have no taste or talents for a race,</span> -<span class="i0">Yet so it is—well, now prepare to chide—)</span> -<span class="i0">I laid a wager that I dared to ride; <span class="linenum">170</span></span> -<span class="i0">And I must go: by Heaven, if you resist</span> -<span class="i0">I shall be scorn’d, and ridiculed, and hiss’d;</span> -<span class="i0">Let me with grace before my friends appear,</span> -<span class="i0">You know the truth, and must not be severe;</span> -<span class="i0">He too must go, but that he will of course;</span> -<span class="i0">Do you consent?—I never think of force.”</span> -<span class="i2">“You never need,” the worthy dame replied;</span> -<span class="i0">“The husband’s honour is the woman’s pride;</span> -<span class="i0">If I in trifles be the wilful wife,</span> -<span class="i0">Still for your credit I would lose my life; <span class="linenum">180</span></span> -<span class="i0">Go! and when fix’d the day of your return,</span> -<span class="i0">Stay longer yet, and let the blockheads learn,</span> -<span class="i0">That, though a wife may sometimes wish to rule,</span> -<span class="i0">She would not make th’ indulgent man a fool;</span> -<span class="i0">I would at times advise—but idle they</span> -<span class="i0">Who think th’ assenting husband <i>must</i> obey.”</span> -<span class="i2">The happy man, who thought his lady right</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[Pg 248]</a></span> -<span class="i0">In other cases, was assured to-night;</span> -<span class="i0">Then for the day with proud delight prepared,</span> -<span class="i0">To show his doubting friends how much he dared. <span class="linenum">190</span></span> -<span class="i2">Counter—who grieving sought his bed, his rest</span> -<span class="i0">Broken by pictures of his love distress’d—</span> -<span class="i0">With soft and winning speech the fair prepared:</span> -<span class="i0">“She all his councils, comforts, pleasures shared;</span> -<span class="i0">She was assured he loved her from his soul;</span> -<span class="i0">She never knew and need not fear control;</span> -<span class="i0">But so it happen’d—he was grieved at heart,</span> -<span class="i0">It happen’d so, that they awhile must part—</span> -<span class="i0">A little time—the distance was but short,</span> -<span class="i0">And business call’d him—he despised the sport; <span class="linenum">200</span></span> -<span class="i0">But to Newmarket he engaged to ride,</span> -<span class="i0">With his friend Clubb;” and there he stopp’d and sigh’d.</span> -<span class="i2">Awhile the tender creature look’d dismay’d,</span> -<span class="i0">Then floods of tears the call of grief obey’d:—</span> -<span class="i2">“She an objection! No!” she sobb’d, “not one;</span> -<span class="i0">Her work was finish’d, and her race was run;</span> -<span class="i0">For die she must, indeed she would not live</span> -<span class="i0">A week alone, for all the world could give;</span> -<span class="i0">He too must die in that same wicked place;</span> -<span class="i0">It always happen’d—was a common case; <span class="linenum">210</span></span> -<span class="i0">Among those horrid horses, jockeys, crowds,</span> -<span class="i0">’Twas certain death—they might bespeak their shrouds;</span> -<span class="i0">He would attempt a race, be sure to fall—</span> -<span class="i0">And she expire with terror—that was all;</span> -<span class="i0">With love like hers she was indeed unfit</span> -<span class="i0">To bear such horrors, but she must submit.”—</span> -<span class="i2">“But for three days, my love! three days at most—”</span> -<span class="i0">“Enough for me; I then shall be a ghost.—”</span> -<span class="i0">“My honour’s pledged!”—“Oh! yes, my dearest life,</span> -<span class="i0">I know your honour must outweigh your wife; <span class="linenum">220</span></span> -<span class="i0">But ere this absence, have you sought a friend—</span> -<span class="i0">I shall be dead—on whom can you depend?—</span> -<span class="i0">Let me one favour of your kindness crave:</span> -<span class="i0">Grant me the stone I mention’d for my grave.—”</span> -<span class="i2">“Nay, love, attend—why, bless my soul—I say</span> -<span class="i0">I will return—there—weep no longer—nay!”—</span> -<span class="i0">“Well! I obey, and to the last am true,</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[Pg 249]</a></span> -<span class="i0">But spirits fail me; I must die; adieu!”</span> -<span class="i2">“What, madam! must?—’tis wrong—I’m angry—zounds!</span> -<span class="i0">Can I remain and lose a thousand pounds?” <span class="linenum">230</span></span> -<span class="i2">“Go then, my love! it is a monstrous sum,</span> -<span class="i0">Worth twenty wives—go, love! and I am dumb—</span> -<span class="i0">Nor be displeased—[had] I the power to live,</span> -<span class="i0">You might be angry, now you must forgive;</span> -<span class="i0">Alas! I faint—ah! cruel—there’s no need</span> -<span class="i0">Of wounds or fevers—this had done the deed.”</span> -<span class="i2">The lady fainted, and the husband sent</span> -<span class="i0">For every aid, for every comfort went;</span> -<span class="i0">Strong terror seized him; “Oh! she loved so well,</span> -<span class="i0">And who th’ effect of tenderness could tell?” <span class="linenum">240</span></span> -<span class="i2">She now recover’d, and again began</span> -<span class="i0">With accent querulous—“Ah! cruel man—”</span> -<span class="i0">Till the sad husband, conscience-struck, confess’d,</span> -<span class="i0">’Twas very wicked with his friend to jest;</span> -<span class="i0">For now he saw that those who were obey’d,</span> -<span class="i0">Could like the most subservient feel afraid;</span> -<span class="i0">And, though a wife might not dispute the will</span> -<span class="i0">Of her liege lord, she could prevent it still.</span> -<span class="i2">The morning came, and Clubb prepared to ride</span> -<span class="i0">With a smart boy, his servant and his guide; <span class="linenum">250</span></span> -<span class="i0">When, ere he mounted on the ready steed,</span> -<span class="i0">Arrived a letter, and he stopp’d to read.</span> -<span class="i2">“My friend,” he read—“our journey I decline:</span> -<span class="i0">A heart too tender for such strife is mine;</span> -<span class="i0">Yours is the triumph, be you so inclined;</span> -<span class="i0">But you are too considerate and kind,</span> -<span class="i0">In tender pity to my Juliet’s fears</span> -<span class="i0">I thus relent, o’ercome by love and tears;</span> -<span class="i0">She knows your kindness; I have heard her say,</span> -<span class="i0">A man like you ’tis pleasure to obey. <span class="linenum">260</span></span> -<span class="i0">Each faithful wife, like ours, must disapprove</span> -<span class="i0">Such dangerous trifling with connubial love;</span> -<span class="i0">What has the idle world, my friend, to do</span> -<span class="i0">With our affairs? they envy me and you.</span> -<span class="i0">What if I could my gentle spouse command—</span> -<span class="i0">Is that a cause I should her tears withstand?</span> -<span class="i0">And what if you, a friend of peace, submit</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[Pg 250]</a></span> -<span class="i0">To one you love—is that a theme for wit?</span> -<span class="i0">’Twas wrong; and I shall henceforth judge it weak</span> -<span class="i0">Both of submission and control to speak. <span class="linenum">270</span></span> -<span class="i0">Be it agreed that all contention cease,</span> -<span class="i0">And no such follies vex our future peace;</span> -<span class="i0">Let each keep guard against domestic strife,</span> -<span class="i0">And find nor slave nor tyrant in his wife.”</span> -<span class="i2">“Agreed,” said Clubb, “with all my soul agreed”—</span> -<span class="i0">And to the boy, delighted, gave his steed;</span> -<span class="i0">“I think my friend has well his mind express’d,</span> -<span class="i0">And I assent; such things are not a jest.”</span> -<span class="i2">“True,” said the wife, “no longer he can hide</span> -<span class="i0">The truth that pains him by his wounded pride. <span class="linenum">280</span></span> -<span class="i0">Your friend has found it not an easy thing,</span> -<span class="i0">Beneath his yoke this yielding soul to bring;</span> -<span class="i0">These weeping willows, though they seem inclined<span class="ws6">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">By every breeze, yet not the strongest wind<span class="ws12">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Can from their bent divert this weak but stubborn kind;  }</span> -<span class="i0">Drooping they seek your pity to excite,</span> -<span class="i0">But ’tis at once their nature and delight.</span> -<span class="i0">Such women feel not; while they sigh and weep,</span> -<span class="i0">’Tis but their habit—their affections sleep;</span> -<span class="i0">They are like ice that in the hand we hold, <span class="linenum">290</span></span> -<span class="i0">So very melting, yet so very cold;</span> -<span class="i0">On such affection let not man rely:</span> -<span class="i0">The husbands suffer, and the ladies sigh.</span> -<span class="i0">But your friend’s offer let us kindly take,</span> -<span class="i0">And spare his pride for his vexation’s sake;</span> -<span class="i0">For he has found, and through his life will find, <span class="ws10">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">’Tis easiest dealing with the firmest mind—<span class="ws13">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">More just when it resists, and, when it yields, more kind.” }</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[Pg 251]</a></span> -</div></div> - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> -<h3>TALE XIX.</h3> -<p class="f110"><i>THE CONVERT.</i></p> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poem2"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i2">A tapster is a good trade, an old cloak makes a new jerkin; a wither’d<br /></span> -<span class="i0">serving-man a fresh tapster.<br /></span> -<span class="i18"><i>Merry Wives of Windsor</i>, Act I. Scene 3.<br /><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">A fellow, sir, that I have known go about with [troll-my-dames].<br /></span> -<span class="i25"><i>Winter’s Tale</i>, Act IV. Scene 3.<br /><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i2">I myself, sometimes leaving the fear of Heaven on the left hand,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">and [hiding] mine honour in my necessity, am forced to shuffle,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">to hedge, and to lurch.<br /></span> -<span class="i18"><i>Merry Wives of Windsor</i>, Act II. Scene 3.<br /><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i5">Yea, and at that very moment,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Consideration like an angel came,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And whipp’d th’ offending Adam out of him.<br /></span> -<span class="i31"><i>Henry V.</i> Act I. Scene 1.<br /><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I have lived long enough: my May of life<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Is fall’n into the sear, the yellow leaf;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And that which should accompany old age,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As honour, love, obedience, troops of friends,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I must not look to have.<br /></span> -<span class="i31"><i>Macbeth</i>, Act V. Scene 3.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[Pg 252]</a></span> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="f120 break space-above2"><b>TALE XIX.</b></p> -<p class="f110"><i>THE CONVERT.</i></p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Some to our hero have a hero’s name</span> -<span class="i0">Denied, because no father’s he could claim;</span> -<span class="i0">Nor could his mother with precision state</span> -<span class="i0">A full fair claim to her certificate;</span> -<span class="i0">On her own word the marriage must depend—</span> -<span class="i0">A point she was not eager to defend.</span> -<span class="i0">But who, without a father’s name, can raise</span> -<span class="i0">His own so high, deserves the greater praise:</span> -<span class="i0">The less advantage to the strife he brought,</span> -<span class="i0">The greater wonders has his prowess wrought; <span class="linenum">10</span></span> -<span class="i0">He who depends upon his wind and limbs,</span> -<span class="i0">Needs neither cork or bladder when he swims;</span> -<span class="i0">Nor will by empty breath be puff’d along,</span> -<span class="i0">As not himself—but in his helpers—strong.</span> -<span class="i2">Suffice it then, our hero’s name was clear,</span> -<span class="i0">For, call John Dighton, and he answer’d, “Here!”</span> -<span class="i0">But who that name in early life assign’d</span> -<span class="i0">He never found, he never tried to find;</span> -<span class="i0">Whether his kindred were to John disgrace,</span> -<span class="i0">Or John to them, is a disputed case; <span class="linenum">20</span></span> -<span class="i0">His infant-state owed nothing to their care—</span> -<span class="i0">His mind neglected, and his body bare;</span> -<span class="i0">All his success must on himself depend,</span> -<span class="i0">He had no money, counsel, guide, or friend;</span> -<span class="i0">But, in a market-town, an active boy</span> -<span class="i0">Appear’d, and sought in various ways employ;</span> -<span class="i0">Who soon, thus cast upon the world, began</span> -<span class="i0">To show the talents of a thriving man.</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[Pg 253]</a></span> -<span class="i2">With spirit high John learn’d the world to brave,</span> -<span class="i0">And in both senses was a ready knave; <span class="linenum">30</span></span> -<span class="i0">Knave [as of] old, obedient, keen, and quick,</span> -<span class="i0">Knave as at present, skill’d to shift and trick.</span> -<span class="i0">Some humble part of many trades he caught:</span> -<span class="i0">He for the builder and the painter wrought;</span> -<span class="i0">For serving-maids on secret errands ran,</span> -<span class="i0">The waiter’s helper, and the hostler’s man;</span> -<span class="i0">And, when he chanced (oft chanced he) place to lose,</span> -<span class="i0">His varying genius shone in blacking shoes.</span> -<span class="i0">A midnight fisher by the pond he stood;</span> -<span class="i0">Assistant poacher, he o’erlook’d the wood; <span class="linenum">40</span></span> -<span class="i0">At an election John’s impartial mind</span> -<span class="i0">Was to no cause nor candidate confined;</span> -<span class="i0">To all in turn he full allegiance swore,</span> -<span class="i0">And in his hat the various badges bore;</span> -<span class="i0">His liberal soul with every sect agreed;</span> -<span class="i0">Unheard their reasons, he received their creed.</span> -<span class="i0">At church he deign’d the organ-pipes to fill,</span> -<span class="i0">And at the meeting sang both loud and shrill;</span> -<span class="i0">But the full purse these different merits gain’d,</span> -<span class="i0">By strong demands his lively passions drain’d; <span class="linenum">50</span></span> -<span class="i0">Liquors he loved of each inflaming kind,</span> -<span class="i0">To midnight revels flew with ardent mind;</span> -<span class="i0">Too warm at cards, a losing game he play’d;</span> -<span class="i0">To fleecing beauty his attention paid;</span> -<span class="i0">His boiling passions were by oaths express’d,</span> -<span class="i0">And lies he made his profit and his jest.</span> -<span class="i2">Such was the boy, and such the man had been,</span> -<span class="i0">But fate or happier fortune changed the scene;</span> -<span class="i0">A fever seized him; “he should surely die—”</span> -<span class="i0">He fear’d, and lo! a friend was praying by. <span class="linenum">60</span></span> -<span class="i0">With terror moved, this teacher he address’d,</span> -<span class="i0">And all the errors of his youth confess’d:</span> -<span class="i0">The good man kindly clear’d the sinner’s way</span> -<span class="i0">To lively hope, and counsell’d him to pray:</span> -<span class="i0">Who then resolved, should he from sickness rise,</span> -<span class="i0">To quit cards, liquors, poaching, oaths, and lies.</span> -<span class="i0">His health restored, he yet resolved, and grew</span> -<span class="i0">True to his masters, to their meeting true;</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[Pg 254]</a></span> -<span class="i0">His old companions at his sober face <span class="ws14">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Laugh’d loud, while he, attesting it was grace,<span class="ws7">}</span><span class="linenum">70</span></span> -<span class="i0">With tears besought them all his calling to embrace.  }</span> -<span class="i0">To his new friends such convert gave applause,</span> -<span class="i0">Life to their zeal, and glory to their cause;</span> -<span class="i0">Though terror wrought the mighty change, yet strong</span> -<span class="i0">Was the impression, and it lasted long;</span> -<span class="i0">John at the lectures due attendance paid,</span> -<span class="i0">A convert meek, obedient, and afraid.</span> -<span class="i0">His manners strict, though form’d on fear alone, <span class="ws7">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Pleased the grave friends, nor less his solemn tone, <span class="ws5">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">The lengthen’d face of care, the low and inward groan.  }<span class="linenum">80</span></span> -<span class="i0">The stern good men exulted, when they saw</span> -<span class="i0">Those timid looks of penitence and awe;</span> -<span class="i0">Nor thought that one so passive, humble, meek,</span> -<span class="i0">Had yet a creed and principles to seek.</span> -<span class="i2">The faith that reason finds, confirms, avows,</span> -<span class="i0">The hopes, the views, the comforts she allows—</span> -<span class="i0">These were not his, who by his feelings found,</span> -<span class="i0">And by them only, that his faith was sound:</span> -<span class="i0">Feelings of terror these, for evil past,</span> -<span class="i0">Feelings of hope, to be received at last; <span class="linenum">90</span></span> -<span class="i0">Now weak, now lively, changing with the day,</span> -<span class="i0">These were his feelings, and he felt his way.</span> -<span class="i2">Sprung from such sources, will this faith remain</span> -<span class="i0">While these supporters can their strength retain?</span> -<span class="i0">As heaviest weights the deepest rivers pass,</span> -<span class="i0">While icy chains fast bind the solid mass:</span> -<span class="i0">So, born of feelings, faith remains secure,</span> -<span class="i0">Long as their firmness and their strength endure;</span> -<span class="i0">But, when the waters in their channel glide,</span> -<span class="i0">A bridge must bear us o’er the threat’ning tide; <span class="linenum">100</span></span> -<span class="i0">Such bridge is reason, and there faith relies,</span> -<span class="i0">Whether the varying spirits fall or rise.</span> -<span class="i2">His patrons, still disposed their aid to lend,</span> -<span class="i0">Behind a counter placed their humble friend;</span> -<span class="i0">Where pens and paper were on shelves display’d,</span> -<span class="i0">And pious pamphlets on the windows laid.</span> -<span class="i0">By nature active, and from vice restrain’d,</span> -<span class="i0">Increasing trade his bolder views sustain’d;</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[Pg 255]</a></span> -<span class="i0">His friends and teachers, finding so much zeal</span> -<span class="i0">In that young convert whom they taught to feel, <span class="linenum">110</span></span> -<span class="i0">His trade encouraged, and were pleased to find</span> -<span class="i0">A hand so ready, with such humble mind.</span> -<span class="i2">And now, his health restored, his spirits eased,</span> -<span class="i0">He wish’d to marry, if the teachers pleased.</span> -<span class="i0">They, not unwilling, from the virgin-class</span> -<span class="i0">Took him a comely and a courteous lass;</span> -<span class="i0">Simple and civil, loving and beloved,</span> -<span class="i0">She long a fond and faithful partner proved;</span> -<span class="i0">In every year the elders and the priest</span> -<span class="i0">Were duly summon’d to a christening feast; <span class="linenum">120</span></span> -<span class="i0">Nor came a babe, but by his growing trade,</span> -<span class="i0">John had provision for the coming made;</span> -<span class="i0">For friends and strangers all were pleased to deal</span> -<span class="i0">With one whose care was equal to his zeal.</span> -<span class="i2">In human friendships, it compels a sigh,</span> -<span class="i0">To think what trifles will dissolve the tie.</span> -<span class="i0">John, now become a master of his trade,</span> -<span class="i0">Perceived how much improvement might be made;</span> -<span class="i0">And, as this prospect open’d to his view,</span> -<span class="i0">A certain portion of his zeal withdrew; <span class="linenum">130</span></span> -<span class="i0">His fear abated—“What had he to fear—</span> -<span class="i0">His profits certain, and his conscience clear?”</span> -<span class="i0">Above his door a board was placed by John,</span> -<span class="i0">And “Dighton, stationer,” was gilt thereon;</span> -<span class="i0">His window next, enlarged to twice the size,</span> -<span class="i0">Shone with such trinkets as the simple prize;</span> -<span class="i0">While in the shop with pious works were seen</span> -<span class="i0">The last new play, review, or magazine.</span> -<span class="i0">In orders punctual, he observed—“The books</span> -<span class="i0">He never read, and could he judge their looks? <span class="linenum">140</span></span> -<span class="i0">Readers and critics should their merits try,</span> -<span class="i0">He had no office but to sell and buy;</span> -<span class="i0">Like other traders, profit was his care;</span> -<span class="i0">Of what they print, the authors must beware.”</span> -<span class="i0">He held his patrons and his teachers dear,</span> -<span class="i0">But with his trade—they must not interfere.</span> -<span class="i2">’Twas certain now that John had lost the dread</span> -<span class="i0">And pious thoughts that once such terrors bred;</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[Pg 256]</a></span> -<span class="i0">His habits varied, and he more inclined</span> -<span class="i0">To the vain world, which he had half resign’d: <span class="linenum">150</span></span> -<span class="i0">He had moreover in his brethren seen,</span> -<span class="i0">Or he imagined, craft, conceit, and spleen;</span> -<span class="i0">“They are but men,” said John, “and shall I then</span> -<span class="i0">Fear man’s control, or stand in awe of men?</span> -<span class="i0">’Tis their advice (their convert’s rule and law),</span> -<span class="i0">And good it is—I will not stand in awe.”</span> -<span class="i2">Moreover Dighton, though he thought of books</span> -<span class="i0">As one who chiefly on the title looks,</span> -<span class="i0">Yet sometimes ponder’d o’er a page to find,</span> -<span class="i0">When vex’d with cares, amusement for his mind; <span class="linenum">160</span></span> -<span class="i0">And by degrees that mind had treasured much</span> -<span class="i0">From works his teachers were afraid to touch.</span> -<span class="i0">Satiric novels, poets bold and free,</span> -<span class="i0">And what their writers term philosophy,</span> -<span class="i0">All these were read; and he began to feel</span> -<span class="i0">Some self-approval on his bosom steal.</span> -<span class="i0">Wisdom creates humility, but he</span> -<span class="i0">Who thus collects it, will not humble be.</span> -<span class="i0">No longer John was fill’d with pure delight</span> -<span class="i0">And humble reverence in a pastor’s sight, <span class="linenum">170</span></span> -<span class="i0">Who, like a grateful zealot, listening stood,</span> -<span class="i0">To hear a man so friendly and so good;</span> -<span class="i0">But felt the dignity of one who made</span> -<span class="i0">Himself important by a thriving trade;</span> -<span class="i0">And growing pride in Dighton’s mind was bred</span> -<span class="i0">By the strange food on which it coarsely fed.</span> -<span class="i2">Their brother’s fall the grieving brethren heard,</span> -<span class="i0">The pride indeed to all around appear’d;</span> -<span class="i0">The world, his friends agreed, had won the soul</span> -<span class="i0">From its best hopes, the man from their control. <span class="linenum">180</span></span> -<span class="i0">To make him humble, and confine his views</span> -<span class="i0">Within their bounds, and books which they peruse,</span> -<span class="i0">A deputation from these friends select,</span> -<span class="i0">Might reason with him to some good effect;</span> -<span class="i0">Arm’d with authority, and led by love,</span> -<span class="i0">They might those follies from his mind remove;</span> -<span class="i0">Deciding thus, and with this kind intent,</span> -<span class="i0">A chosen body with its speaker went.</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[Pg 257]</a></span> -<span class="i2">“John,” said the teacher, “John, with great concern</span> -<span class="i0">We see thy frailty, and thy fate discern— <span class="linenum">190</span></span> -<span class="i0">Satan with toils thy simple soul beset,</span> -<span class="i0">And thou art careless, slumbering in the net;</span> -<span class="i0">Unmindful art thou of thy early vow;</span> -<span class="i0">Who at the morning-meeting sees thee now?</span> -<span class="i0">Who at the evening? where is brother John?</span> -<span class="i0">We ask—are answer’d, ‘To the tavern gone.’</span> -<span class="i0">Thee on the sabbath seldom we behold;</span> -<span class="i0">Thou canst not sing, thou’rt nursing for a cold:</span> -<span class="i0">This from the churchmen thou hast learn’d, for they</span> -<span class="i0">Have colds and fevers on the sabbath-day; <span class="linenum">200</span></span> -<span class="i0">When in some snug warm room they sit, and pen</span> -<span class="i0">Bills from their ledgers, world-entangled men!</span> -<span class="i2">“See with what pride thou hast enlarged thy shop;</span> -<span class="i0">To view thy tempting stores the heedless stop;</span> -<span class="i0">By what strange names dost thou these baubles know,</span> -<span class="i0">Which wantons wear, to make a sinful show?</span> -<span class="i0">Hast thou in view these idle volumes placed</span> -<span class="i0">To be the pander of a vicious taste?</span> -<span class="i0">What’s here? a book of dances!—you advance</span> -<span class="i0">In goodly knowledge—John, wilt learn to dance? <span class="linenum">210</span></span> -<span class="i0">How! ‘Go—’ it says, and ‘to the devil go!</span> -<span class="i0">And shake thyself!’ I tremble—but ’tis so——</span> -<span class="i0">Wretch as thou art, what answer canst thou make?</span> -<span class="i0">Oh! without question, thou wilt go and shake.</span> -<span class="i0">What’s here? ‘The School for Scandal’—pretty schools!</span> -<span class="i0">Well, and art thou proficient in the rules?</span> -<span class="i0">Art thou a pupil, is it thy design</span> -<span class="i0">To make our names contemptible as thine?</span> -<span class="i0">‘Old Nick, a Novel!’ oh! ’tis mighty well—</span> -<span class="i0">A fool has courage when he laughs at hell; <span class="linenum">220</span></span> -<span class="i0">‘Frolic and Fun,’ ‘The humours of Tim Grin’;</span> -<span class="i0">Why, John, thou grow’st facetious in thy sin;</span> -<span class="i0">And what? ‘The Archdeacon’s Charge’—‘tis mighty well—</span> -<span class="i0">If Satan publish’d, thou wouldst doubtless sell;</span> -<span class="i0">Jests, novels, dances, and this precious stuff—</span> -<span class="i0">To crown thy folly we have seen enough;</span> -<span class="i0">We find thee fitted for each evil work—</span> -<span class="i0">Do print the Koran, and become a Turk!</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[Pg 258]</a></span> -<span class="i2">“John, thou art lost; success and worldly pride }</span> -<span class="i0">O’er all thy thoughts and purposes preside, <span class="ws6">}</span><span class="linenum">230</span></span> -<span class="i0">Have bound thee fast, and drawn thee far aside;<span class="ws3">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Yet turn, these sin-traps from thy shop expel,</span> -<span class="i0">Repent and pray, and all may yet be well.</span> -<span class="i2">“And here thy wife, thy Dorothy, behold,</span> -<span class="i0">How fashion’s wanton robes her form infold!</span> -<span class="i0">Can grace, can goodness with such trappings dwell?</span> -<span class="i0">John, thou hast made thy wife a Jezebel.</span> -<span class="i0">See! on her bosom rests the sign of sin,</span> -<span class="i0">The glaring proof of naughty thoughts within;</span> -<span class="i0">What? ’tis a cross; come hither—as a friend, <span class="linenum">240</span></span> -<span class="i0">Thus from thy neck the shameful badge I rend.”</span> -<span class="i2">“Rend, if you dare,” said Dighton; “you shall find</span> -<span class="i0">A man of spirit, though to peace inclined;</span> -<span class="i0">Call me ungrateful! have I not my pay</span> -<span class="i0">At all times ready for the expected day?—</span> -<span class="i0">To share my plenteous board you deign to come,</span> -<span class="i0">Myself your pupil, and my house your home;</span> -<span class="i0">And shall the persons who my meat enjoy</span> -<span class="i0">Talk of my faults, and treat me as a boy?</span> -<span class="i0">Have you not told how Rome’s insulting priests <span class="linenum">250</span></span> -<span class="i0">Led their meek laymen like a herd of beasts;</span> -<span class="i0">And by their fleecing and their forgery made</span> -<span class="i0">Their holy calling an accursed trade?</span> -<span class="i0">Can you such acts and insolence condemn,</span> -<span class="i0">Who to your utmost power resemble them?</span> -<span class="i2">“Concerns it you what books I set for sale?</span> -<span class="i0">The tale perchance may be a virtuous tale;</span> -<span class="i0">And, for the rest, ’tis neither wise nor just</span> -<span class="i0">In you, who read not, to condemn on trust;</span> -<span class="i0">Why should th’ Archdeacon’s Charge your spleen excite?</span> -<span class="i0">He, or perchance th’ archbishop, may be right. <span class="linenum">261</span></span> -<span class="i2">“That from your meetings I refrain, is true;</span> -<span class="i0">I meet with nothing pleasant—nothing new,</span> -<span class="i0">But the same proofs, that not one text explain,</span> -<span class="i0">And the same lights, where all things dark remain;</span> -<span class="i0">I thought you saints on earth—but I have found</span> -<span class="i0">Some sins among you, and the best unsound;</span> -<span class="i0">You have your failings, like the crowds below,</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[Pg 259]</a></span> -<span class="i0">And at your pleasure hot and cold can blow.</span> -<span class="i0">When I at first your grave deportment saw, <span class="linenum">270</span></span> -<span class="i0">(I own my folly,) I was fill’d with awe;</span> -<span class="i0">You spoke so warmly, and it [seemed] so well,</span> -<span class="i0">I should have thought it treason to rebel.</span> -<span class="i0">Is it a wonder that a man like me</span> -<span class="i0">Should such perfection in such teachers see;</span> -<span class="i0">Nay, should conceive you sent from Heav’n to brave</span> -<span class="i0">The host of sin, and sinful souls to save?</span> -<span class="i0">But, as our reason wakes, our prospects clear,</span> -<span class="i0">And failings, flaws, and blemishes appear.</span> -<span class="i2">“When you were mounted in your rostrum high, <span class="linenum">280</span></span> -<span class="i0">We shrank beneath your tone, your frown, your eye;</span> -<span class="i0">Then you beheld us abject, fallen, low,</span> -<span class="i0">And felt your glory from our baseness grow;</span> -<span class="i0">Touch’d by your words, I trembled like the rest,</span> -<span class="i0">And my own vileness and your power confess’d:</span> -<span class="i0">These, I exclaim’d, are men divine, and gazed</span> -<span class="i0">On him who taught, delighted and amazed;</span> -<span class="i0">Glad, when he finish’d, if by chance he cast</span> -<span class="i0">One look on such a sinner, as he pass’d.</span> -<span class="i2">“But, when I view’d you in a clearer light, <span class="linenum">290</span></span> -<span class="i0">And saw the frail and carnal appetite;</span> -<span class="i0">When, at his humble pray’r, you deign’d to eat,</span> -<span class="i0">Saints as you are, a civil sinner’s meat;</span> -<span class="i0">When, as you sat contented and at ease,</span> -<span class="i0">Nibbling at leisure on the ducks and peas,</span> -<span class="i0">And, pleased some comforts in such place to find,</span> -<span class="i0">You could descend to be a little kind;</span> -<span class="i0">And gave us hope, in Heaven there might be room</span> -<span class="i0">For a few souls beside your own to come;</span> -<span class="i0">While this world’s good engaged your carnal view, <span class="linenum">300</span></span> -<span class="i0">And like a sinner you enjoy’d it too:</span> -<span class="i0">All this perceiving, can you think it strange</span> -<span class="i0">That change in you should work an equal change?”</span> -<span class="i2">“Wretch that thou art,” an elder cried, “and gone</span> -<span class="i0">For everlasting”——“Go thyself,” said John;</span> -<span class="i0">“Depart this instant, let me hear no more;</span> -<span class="i0">My house my castle is, and that my door.”</span> -<span class="i2">The hint they took, and from the door withdrew,</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[Pg 260]</a></span> -<span class="i0">And John to meeting bade a long adieu;</span> -<span class="i0">Attach’d to business; he in time became <span class="linenum">310</span></span> -<span class="i0">A wealthy man of no inferior name.</span> -<span class="i0">It seem’d, alas! in John’s deluded sight,</span> -<span class="i0">That all was wrong because not all was right;</span> -<span class="i0">And, when he found his teachers had their stains,</span> -<span class="i0">Resentment and not reason broke his chains.</span> -<span class="i0">Thus on his feelings he again relied,</span> -<span class="i0">And never look’d to reason for his guide.</span> -<span class="i0">Could he have wisely view’d the frailty shown,</span> -<span class="i0">And rightly weigh’d their wanderings and his own,</span> -<span class="i0">He might have known that men may be sincere, <span class="linenum">320</span></span> -<span class="i0">Though gay and feasting on the savoury cheer;</span> -<span class="i0">That doctrines sound and sober they may teach,</span> -<span class="i0">Who love to eat with all the glee they preach;</span> -<span class="i0">Nay, who believe the duck, the grape, the pine,</span> -<span class="i0">Were not intended for the dog and swine.</span> -<span class="i0">But Dighton’s hasty mind on every theme</span> -<span class="i0">Ran from the truth, and rested in th’ extreme;</span> -<span class="i0">Flaws in his friends he found, and then withdrew</span> -<span class="i0">(Vain of his knowledge) from their virtues too;</span> -<span class="i0">Best of his books he loved the liberal kind, <span class="linenum">330</span></span> -<span class="i0">That, if they improve not, still enlarge the mind;</span> -<span class="i0">And found himself, with such advisers, free</span> -<span class="i0">From a fix’d creed, as mind enlarged could be.</span> -<span class="i0">His humble wife at these opinions sigh’d,</span> -<span class="i0">But her he never heeded till she died;</span> -<span class="i0">He then assented to a last request,</span> -<span class="i0">And by the meeting-window let her rest;</span> -<span class="i0">And on her stone the sacred text was seen,</span> -<span class="i0">Which had her comfort in departing been.</span> -<span class="i2">Dighton with joy beheld his trade advance, <span class="linenum">340</span></span> -<span class="i0">Yet seldom published, loth to trust to chance;</span> -<span class="i0">Then wed a doctor’s sister—poor indeed,</span> -<span class="i0">But skill’d in works her husband could not read;</span> -<span class="i0">Who, if he wish’d new ways of wealth to seek,</span> -<span class="i0">Could make her half-crown pamphlet in a week:</span> -<span class="i0">This he rejected, though without disdain,</span> -<span class="i0">And chose the old and certain way to gain.</span> -<span class="i2">Thus he proceeded; trade increased the while,</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[Pg 261]</a></span> -<span class="i0">And fortune woo’d him with perpetual smile.</span> -<span class="i0">On early scenes he sometimes cast a thought, <span class="linenum">350</span></span> -<span class="i0">When on his heart the mighty change was wrought;</span> -<span class="i0">And all the ease and comfort converts find</span> -<span class="i0">Was magnified in his reflecting mind;</span> -<span class="i0">Then on the teacher’s priestly pride he dwelt,</span> -<span class="i0">That caused his freedom, but with this he felt</span> -<span class="i0">The danger of the free—for since that day,</span> -<span class="i0">No guide had shown, no brethren join’d his way;</span> -<span class="i0">Forsaking one, he found no second creed,</span> -<span class="i0">But reading doubted, doubting what to read.</span> -<span class="i2">Still, though reproof had brought some present pain, <span class="linenum">360</span></span> -<span class="i0">The gain he made was fair and honest gain;</span> -<span class="i0">He laid his wares indeed in public view,</span> -<span class="i0">But that all traders claim a right to do.</span> -<span class="i0">By means like these, he saw his wealth increase,</span> -<span class="i0">And felt his consequence, and dwelt in peace.</span> -<span class="i2">Our hero’s age was threescore years and five,</span> -<span class="i0">When he exclaim’d, “Why longer should I strive?</span> -<span class="i0">Why more amass, who never must behold</span> -<span class="i0">A young John Dighton to make glad the old?”</span> -<span class="i0">(The sons he had to early graves were gone, <span class="linenum">370</span></span> -<span class="i0">And girls were burdens to the mind of John.)</span> -<span class="i0">“Had I [a] boy, he would our name sustain,</span> -<span class="i0">That now to nothing must return again;</span> -<span class="i0">But what are all my profits, credit, trade,</span> -<span class="i0">And parish-honours?—folly and parade.”</span> -<span class="i2">Thus Dighton thought, and in his looks appear’d</span> -<span class="i0">Sadness, increased by much he saw and heard.</span> -<span class="i0">The brethren often at the shop would stay,</span> -<span class="i0">And make their comments ere they walk’d away;</span> -<span class="i0">They mark’d the window, fill’d in every pane <span class="linenum">380</span></span> -<span class="i0">With lawless prints of reputations slain;</span> -<span class="i0">Distorted forms of men with honours graced,</span> -<span class="i0">And our chief rulers in derision placed:</span> -<span class="i0">Amazed they stood, remembering well the days,</span> -<span class="i0">When to be humble was their brother’s praise;</span> -<span class="i0">When at the dwelling of their friend they stopp’d</span> -<span class="i0">To drop a word, or to receive it dropp’d;</span> -<span class="i0">Where they beheld the prints of men renown’d,</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[Pg 262]</a></span> -<span class="i0">And far-famed preachers pasted all around;</span> -<span class="i0">(Such mouths! eyes! hair! so prim! so fierce! so sleek! <span class="linenum">390</span></span> -<span class="i0">They look’d as speaking what is wo to speak):</span> -<span class="i0">On these the passing brethren loved to dwell—</span> -<span class="i0">How long they spake! how strongly! warmly! well!</span> -<span class="i0">What power had each to dive in mysteries deep,</span> -<span class="i0">To warm the cold, to make the harden’d weep;</span> -<span class="i0">To lure, to fright, to soothe, to awe the soul,</span> -<span class="i0">And list’ning flocks to lead and to control!</span> -<span class="i2">But now discoursing, as they linger’d near,</span> -<span class="i0">They tempted John (whom they accused) to hear</span> -<span class="i0">Their weighty charge—“And can the lost-one feel, <span class="linenum">400</span></span> -<span class="i0">As in the time of duty, love, and zeal:</span> -<span class="i0">When all were summon’d at the rising sun,</span> -<span class="i0">And he was ready with his friends to run;</span> -<span class="i0">When he, partaking with a chosen few,</span> -<span class="i0">Felt the great change, sensation rich and new?</span> -<span class="i0">No! all is lost, her favours Fortune shower’d</span> -<span class="i0">Upon the man, and he is overpower’d;</span> -<span class="i0">The world has won him with its tempting store</span> -<span class="i0">Of needless wealth, and that has made him poor.</span> -<span class="i0">Success undoes him; he has risen to fall, <span class="linenum">410</span></span> -<span class="i0">Has gain’d a fortune, and has lost his all;</span> -<span class="i0">Gone back from Sion, he will find his age</span> -<span class="i0">Loth to commence a second pilgrimage;</span> -<span class="i0">He has retreated from the chosen track;</span> -<span class="i0">And now must ever bear the burden on his back.”</span> -<span class="i2">Hurt by such censure, John began to find</span> -<span class="i0">Fresh revolutions working in his mind;</span> -<span class="i0">He sought for comfort in his books, but read</span> -<span class="i0">Without a plan or method in his head;</span> -<span class="i0">What once amused, now rather made him sad, <span class="linenum">420</span></span> -<span class="i0">What should inform, increased the doubts he had;</span> -<span class="i0">Shame would not let him seek at church a guide,</span> -<span class="i0">And from his meeting he was held by pride;</span> -<span class="i0">His wife derided fears she never felt,</span> -<span class="i0">And passing brethren daily censures dealt;</span> -<span class="i0">Hope for a son was now for ever past,</span> -<span class="i0">He was the first John Dighton, and the last;</span> -<span class="i0">His stomach fail’d, his case the doctor knew,</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[Pg 263]</a></span> -<span class="i0">But said, “he still might hold a year or two.”</span> -<span class="i0">“No more?” he said, “but why should I complain? <span class="linenum">430</span></span> -<span class="i0">A life of doubt must be a life of pain.</span> -<span class="i0">Could I be sure—but why should I despair?</span> -<span class="i0">I’m sure my conduct has been just and fair;</span> -<span class="i0">In youth indeed I had a wicked will,</span> -<span class="i0">But I repented, and have sorrow still;</span> -<span class="i0">I had my comforts, and a growing trade</span> -<span class="i0">Gave greater pleasure than a fortune made;</span> -<span class="i0">And, as I more possess’d and reason’d more,</span> -<span class="i0">I lost those comforts I enjoy’d before,</span> -<span class="i0">When reverend guides I saw my table round, <span class="linenum">440</span></span> -<span class="i0">And in my guardian guest my safety found.</span> -<span class="i0">Now sick and sad, no appetite, no ease,</span> -<span class="i0">Nor pleasure have I, nor a wish to please;</span> -<span class="i0">Nor views, nor hopes, nor plans, nor taste have I,</span> -<span class="i0">Yet sick of life, have no desire to die.”</span> -<span class="i2">He said, and died; his trade, his name is gone,</span> -<span class="i0">And all that once gave consequence to John.</span> -<span class="i2">Unhappy Dighton! had he found a friend,</span> -<span class="i0">When conscience told him it was time to mend!</span> -<span class="i0">A friend discreet, considerate, kind, sincere, <span class="linenum">450</span></span> -<span class="i0">Who would have shown the grounds of hope and fear;</span> -<span class="i0">And proved that spirits, whether high or low,</span> -<span class="i0">No certain tokens of man’s safety show;</span> -<span class="i0">Had reason ruled him in her proper place,</span> -<span class="i0">And virtue led him while he lean’d on grace;</span> -<span class="i0">Had he while zealous been discreet and pure,</span> -<span class="i0">His knowledge humble, and his hope secure—</span> -<span class="i0">These guides had placed him on the solid rock,</span> -<span class="i0">Where faith had rested, nor received a shock;</span> -<span class="i0">But his, alas! was placed upon the sand, <span class="linenum">460</span></span> -<span class="i0">Where long it stood not, and where none can stand.</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[Pg 264]</a></span> -</div></div> - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> -<h3>TALE XX.</h3> -<p class="f110"><i>THE BROTHERS.</i></p> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poem2"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i26">A brother noble,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Whose nature is so far from doing harms<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That he suspects none; on whose foolish honesty<br /></span> -<span class="i0">My [practices] ride easy.<br /></span> -<span class="i25"><i>King Lear</i>, Act I. Scene 2.<br /><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">He lets me feed with [his] hinds; bars me the place of brother.<br /></span> -<span class="i22"><i>As You Like It</i>, Act I. Scene 1.<br /><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">’Twas I, but ’tis not I: I do not shame<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To tell you what I was, [...<br /></span> -<span class="i0">...] being [the thing] I am.<br /></span> -<span class="i21"><i>As You Like It</i>, Act IV. Scene 3.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[Pg 265]</a></span> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="f120 break space-above2"><b>TALE XX.</b></p> -<p class="f110"><i>THE BROTHERS.</i></p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Than old George Fletcher on the British coast</span> -<span class="i2">Dwelt not a seaman who had more to boast:</span> -<span class="i0">Kind, simple, and sincere—he seldom spoke,</span> -<span class="i0">But sometimes sang and chorus’d “<i>Hearts of Oak</i>;”</span> -<span class="i0">In dangers steady, with his lot content,</span> -<span class="i0">His days in labour and in love were spent.</span> -<span class="i2">He left a son so like him, that the old</span> -<span class="i0">With joy exclaim’d, “’Tis Fletcher we behold;”</span> -<span class="i0">But to his brother when the kinsmen came,</span> -<span class="i0">And view’d his form, they grudged the father’s name. <span class="linenum">10</span></span> -<span class="i2">George was a bold, intrepid, careless lad,</span> -<span class="i0">With just the failings that his father had;</span> -<span class="i0">Isaac was weak, attentive, slow, exact,</span> -<span class="i0">With just the virtues that his father lack’d.</span> -<span class="i2">George lived at sea: upon the land a guest—</span> -<span class="i0">He sought for recreation, not for rest—</span> -<span class="i0">While, far unlike, his brother’s feebler form</span> -<span class="i0">Shrank from the cold, and shudder’d at the storm;</span> -<span class="i0">Still with the seaman’s to connect his trade,</span> -<span class="i0">The boy was bound where blocks and ropes were made. <span class="linenum">20</span></span> -<span class="i2">George, strong and sturdy, had a tender mind,</span> -<span class="i0">And was to Isaac pitiful and kind;</span> -<span class="i0">A very father, till his art was gain’d,</span> -<span class="i0">And then a friend unwearied he remain’d.</span> -<span class="i0">He saw his brother was of spirit low,</span> -<span class="i0">His temper peevish, and his motions slow;</span> -<span class="i0">Not fit to bustle in a world, or make</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[Pg 266]</a></span> -<span class="i0">Friends to his fortune for his merit’s sake:</span> -<span class="i0">But the kind sailor could not boast the art</span> -<span class="i0">Of looking deeply in the human heart; <span class="linenum">30</span></span> -<span class="i0">Else had he seen that this weak brother knew</span> -<span class="i0">What men to court—what objects to pursue;</span> -<span class="i0">That he to distant gain the way discern’d,</span> -<span class="i0">And none so crooked but his genius learn’d.</span> -<span class="i2">Isaac was poor, and this the brother felt;</span> -<span class="i0">He hired a house, and there the landman dwelt;</span> -<span class="i0">Wrought at his trade, and had an easy home,</span> -<span class="i0">For there would George with cash and comforts come;</span> -<span class="i0">And, when they parted, Isaac look’d around,</span> -<span class="i0">Where other friends and helpers might be found. <span class="linenum">40</span></span> -<span class="i2">He wish’d for some port-place, and one might fall,</span> -<span class="i0">He wisely thought, if he should try for all;</span> -<span class="i0">He had a vote—and, were it well applied,</span> -<span class="i0">Might have its worth—and he had views beside;</span> -<span class="i0">Old Burgess Steel was able to promote</span> -<span class="i0">An humble man who served him with a vote;</span> -<span class="i0">For Isaac felt not what some tempers feel,</span> -<span class="i0">But bow’d and bent the neck to Burgess Steel;</span> -<span class="i0">And great attention to a lady gave,</span> -<span class="i0">His ancient friend, a maiden spare and grave: <span class="linenum">50</span></span> -<span class="i0">One whom the visage long and look demure</span> -<span class="i0">Of Isaac pleased—he seem’d sedate and pure;</span> -<span class="i0">And his soft heart conceived a gentle flame</span> -<span class="i0">For her who waited on this virtuous dame:</span> -<span class="i0">Not an outrageous love, a scorching fire,</span> -<span class="i0">But friendly liking and chastised desire;</span> -<span class="i0">And thus he waited, patient in delay,</span> -<span class="i0">In present favour and in fortune’s way.</span> -<span class="i2">George then was coasting—war was yet delay’d,</span> -<span class="i0">And what he gain’d was to his brother paid; <span class="linenum">60</span></span> -<span class="i0">Nor ask’d the seaman what he saved or spent:</span> -<span class="i0">But took his grog, wrought hard, and was content;</span> -<span class="i0">Till war awaked the land, and George began</span> -<span class="i0">To think what part became a useful man:</span> -<span class="i0">“Press’d, I must go; why, then, ’tis better far</span> -<span class="i0">At once to enter like a British tar,</span> -<span class="i0">Than a brave captain and the foe to shun,</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[Pg 267]</a></span> -<span class="i0">As if I fear’d the music of a gun.”</span> -<span class="i0">“Go not!” said Isaac—“You shall wear disguise.”</span> -<span class="i0">“What!” said the seaman, “clothe myself with lies?”— <span class="linenum">70</span></span> -<span class="i0">“Oh! but there’s danger.”—“Danger in the fleet?</span> -<span class="i0">You cannot mean, good brother, of defeat;</span> -<span class="i0">And other dangers I at land must share—</span> -<span class="i0">So now adieu! and trust a brother’s care.”</span> -<span class="i2">Isaac awhile demurr’d—but, in his heart,</span> -<span class="i0">So might he share, he was disposed to part:</span> -<span class="i0">The better mind will sometimes feel the pain <span class="ws12">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Of benefactions—favour is a chain;<span class="ws20">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">But they the feeling scorn, and what they wish, disdain;— }</span> -<span class="i0">While beings form’d in coarser mould will hate <span class="linenum">80</span></span> -<span class="i0">The helping hand they ought to venerate.</span> -<span class="i0">No wonder George should in this cause prevail,</span> -<span class="i0">With one contending who was glad to fail:</span> -<span class="i0">“Isaac, farewell! do wipe that doleful eye; <span class="ws5">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Crying we came, and groaning we may die.<span class="ws4">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Let us do something ’twixt the groan and cry: }</span> -<span class="i0">And hear me, brother, whether pay or prize,</span> -<span class="i0">One half to thee I give and I devise;</span> -<span class="i0">For thou hast oft occasion for the aid</span> -<span class="i0">Of learn’d physicians, and they will be paid: <span class="linenum">90</span></span> -<span class="i0">Their wives and children men support, at sea,</span> -<span class="i0">And thou, my lad, art wife and child to me:</span> -<span class="i0">Farewell!—I go where hope and honour call,</span> -<span class="i0">Nor does it follow that who fights must fall.”</span> -<span class="i2">Isaac here made a poor attempt to speak,</span> -<span class="i0">And a huge tear moved slowly down his cheek;</span> -<span class="i0">Like Pluto’s iron drop, hard sign of grace,<span class="ws8">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">It slowly roll’d upon the rueful face, <span class="ws12">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Forced by the striving will alone its way to trace.  }</span> -<span class="i2">Years fled—war lasted—George at sea remain’d, <span class="linenum">100</span></span> -<span class="i0">While the slow landman still his profits gain’d.</span> -<span class="i0">A humble place was vacant—he besought</span> -<span class="i0">His patron’s interest, and the office caught;</span> -<span class="i0">For still the virgin was his faithful friend,</span> -<span class="i0">And one so sober could with truth commend,</span> -<span class="i0">Who of his own defects most humbly thought,</span> -<span class="i0">And their advice with zeal and reverence sought.</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[Pg 268]</a></span> -<span class="i0">Whom thus the mistress praised, the maid approved,</span> -<span class="i0">And her he wedded whom he wisely loved.</span> -<span class="i2">No more he needs assistance—but, alas! <span class="linenum">110</span></span> -<span class="i0">He fears the money will for liquor pass;</span> -<span class="i0">Or that the seaman might to flatterers lend,</span> -<span class="i0">Or give support to some pretended friend.</span> -<span class="i0">Still, he must write—he wrote, and he confess’d</span> -<span class="i0">That, till absolved, he should be sore distress’d;</span> -<span class="i0">But one so friendly would, he thought, forgive</span> -<span class="i0">The hasty deed—Heav’n knew how he should live;</span> -<span class="i0">“But you,” he added, “as a man of sense,</span> -<span class="i0">Have well consider’d danger and expense:</span> -<span class="i0">I ran, alas! into the fatal snare, <span class="linenum">120</span></span> -<span class="i0">And now for trouble must my mind prepare;</span> -<span class="i0">And how, with children, I shall pick my way,</span> -<span class="i0">Through a hard world, is more than I can say:</span> -<span class="i0">Then change not, brother, your more happy state,</span> -<span class="i0">Or on the hazard long deliberate.”</span> -<span class="i2">George answer’d gravely, “It is right and fit,</span> -<span class="i0">In all our crosses, humbly to submit:</span> -<span class="i0">Your apprehensions are unwise, unjust;</span> -<span class="i0">Forbear repining, and expel distrust.”—</span> -<span class="i0">He added, “Marriage was the joy of life,” <span class="linenum">130</span></span> -<span class="i0">And gave his service to his brother’s wife;</span> -<span class="i0">Then vow’d to bear in all expense a part,</span> -<span class="i0">And thus concluded, “Have a cheerful heart.”</span> -<span class="i2">Had the glad Isaac been his brother’s guide,</span> -<span class="i0">In these same terms the seaman had replied;</span> -<span class="i0">At such reproofs the crafty landman smiled,</span> -<span class="i0">And softly said—“This creature is a child.”</span> -<span class="i2">Twice had the gallant ship a capture made—</span> -<span class="i0">And when in port the happy crew were paid,</span> -<span class="i0">Home went the sailor, with his pocket stored, <span class="linenum">140</span></span> -<span class="i0">Ease to enjoy, and pleasure to afford.</span> -<span class="i0">His time was short; joy shone in every face;</span> -<span class="i0">Isaac half fainted in the fond embrace;</span> -<span class="i0">The wife resolved her honour’d guest to please,</span> -<span class="i0">The children clung upon their uncle’s knees;</span> -<span class="i0">The grog went round, the neighbours drank his health,</span> -<span class="i0">And George exclaim’d—“Ah! what to this is wealth?</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[Pg 269]</a></span> -<span class="i0">Better,” said he, “to bear a loving heart,</span> -<span class="i0">Than roll in riches——but we now must part!”</span> -<span class="i2">All yet is still—but hark! the winds o’ersweep <span class="linenum">150</span></span> -<span class="i0">The rising waves, and howl upon the deep;</span> -<span class="i0">Ships, late becalm’d, on mountain-billows ride—</span> -<span class="i0">So life is threaten’d, and so man is tried.</span> -<span class="i2">Ill were the tidings that arrived from sea:</span> -<span class="i0">The worthy George must now a cripple be;</span> -<span class="i0">His leg was lopp’d; and, though his heart was sound,</span> -<span class="i0">Though his brave captain was with glory crown’d—</span> -<span class="i0">Yet much it vex’d him to repose on shore,</span> -<span class="i0">An idle log, and be of use no more.</span> -<span class="i0">True, he was sure that Isaac would receive <span class="linenum">160</span></span> -<span class="i0">All of his brother that the foe might leave;</span> -<span class="i0">To whom the seaman his design had sent,</span> -<span class="i0">Ere from the port the wounded hero went;</span> -<span class="i0">His wealth and expectations told, he “knew</span> -<span class="i0">Wherein they fail’d, what Isaac’s love would do;</span> -<span class="i0">That he the grog and cabin would supply,</span> -<span class="i0">Where George at anchor during life would lie.”</span> -<span class="i2">The landman read—and, reading, grew distress’d:—</span> -<span class="i0">“Could he resolve t’ admit so poor a guest?</span> -<span class="i0">Better at Greenwich might the sailor stay, <span class="linenum">170</span></span> -<span class="i0">Unless his purse could for his comforts pay;”</span> -<span class="i0">So Isaac judged, and to his wife appeal’d,</span> -<span class="i0">But yet acknowledged it was best to yield:</span> -<span class="i0">“Perhaps his pension, with what sums remain</span> -<span class="i0">Due or unsquander’d, may the man maintain;</span> -<span class="i0">Refuse we must not.”—With a heavy sigh</span> -<span class="i0">The lady heard, and made her kind reply:</span> -<span class="i0">“Nor would I wish it, Isaac, were we sure</span> -<span class="i0">How long his crazy building will endure;</span> -<span class="i0">Like an old house, that every day appears <span class="linenum">180</span></span> -<span class="i0">About to fall—he may be propp’d for years;</span> -<span class="i0">For a few months, indeed, we might comply,</span> -<span class="i0">But these old batter’d fellows never die.”</span> -<span class="i2">The hand of Isaac George on entering took,</span> -<span class="i0">With love and resignation in his look;</span> -<span class="i0">Declared his comfort in the fortune past,</span> -<span class="i0">And joy to find his anchor safely cast;</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[Pg 270]</a></span> -<span class="i0">“Call then my nephews, let the grog be brought,</span> -<span class="i0">And I will tell them how the ship was fought.”</span> -<span class="i2">Alas! our simple seaman should have known,<span class="ws9">}</span><span class="linenum">190</span></span> -<span class="i0">That all the care, the kindness, he had shown,<span class="ws11">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Were from his brother’s heart, if not his memory, flown: }</span> -<span class="i0">All swept away to be perceived no more,</span> -<span class="i0">Like idle structures on the sandy shore;</span> -<span class="i0">The chance amusement of the playful boy,</span> -<span class="i0">That the rude billows in their rage destroy.</span> -<span class="i2">Poor George confess’d, though loth the truth to find,</span> -<span class="i0">Slight was his knowledge of a brother’s mind:</span> -<span class="i0">The vulgar pipe was to the wife offence,</span> -<span class="i0">The frequent grog to Isaac an expense; <span class="linenum">200</span></span> -<span class="i0">“Would friends like hers,” she question’d, “choose to come,</span> -<span class="i0">Where clouds of poison’d fume defiled a room?</span> -<span class="i0">This could their lady-friend, and Burgess Steel,</span> -<span class="i0">(Teased with his worship’s asthma) bear to feel?</span> -<span class="i0">Could they associate or converse with him—</span> -<span class="i0">A loud rough sailor with a timber limb?”</span> -<span class="i2">Cold as he grew, still Isaac strove to show,</span> -<span class="i0">By well-feign’d care, that cold he could not grow;</span> -<span class="i0">And when he saw his brother look distress’d,</span> -<span class="i0">He strove some petty comforts to suggest; <span class="linenum">210</span></span> -<span class="i0">On his wife solely their neglect to lay,</span> -<span class="i0">And then t’ excuse it as a woman’s way;</span> -<span class="i0">He too was chidden when her rules he broke,</span> -<span class="i0">And then she sicken’d at the scent of smoke.</span> -<span class="i2">George, though in doubt, was still consoled to find</span> -<span class="i0">His brother wishing to be reckon’d kind.</span> -<span class="i0">That Isaac seem’d concern’d by his distress,</span> -<span class="i0">Gave to his injured feelings some redress;</span> -<span class="i0">But none he found disposed to lend an ear</span> -<span class="i0">To stories all were once intent to hear; <span class="linenum">220</span></span> -<span class="i0">Except his nephew, seated on his knee,</span> -<span class="i0">He found no creature cared about the sea;</span> -<span class="i0">But George indeed—for George they call’d the boy,</span> -<span class="i0">When his good uncle was their boast and joy—</span> -<span class="i0">Would listen long, and would contend with sleep,</span> -<span class="i0">To hear the woes and wonders of the deep;</span> -<span class="i0">Till the fond mother cried—“That man will teach</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[Pg 271]</a></span> -<span class="i0">The foolish boy his loud and boisterous speech.”</span> -<span class="i0">So judged the father—and the boy was taught</span> -<span class="i0">To shun the uncle, whom his love had sought. <span class="linenum">230</span></span> -<span class="i2">The mask of kindness now but seldom worn,</span> -<span class="i0">George felt each evil harder to be borne;</span> -<span class="i0">And cried (vexation growing day by day),</span> -<span class="i0">“Ah! brother Isaac!—What! I’m in the way!”—</span> -<span class="i0">“No! on my credit, look ye, No! but I<span class="ws10">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Am fond of peace, and my repose would buy<span class="ws4">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">On any terms—in short, we must comply: <span class="ws6">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">My spouse had money—she must have her will—</span> -<span class="i0">Ah! brother—marriage is a bitter pill.”—</span> -<span class="i2">George tried the lady—“Sister, I offend”— <span class="linenum">240</span></span> -<span class="i0">“Me?” she replied; “Oh no!—you may depend</span> -<span class="i0">On my regard—but watch your brother’s way,</span> -<span class="i0">Whom I, like you, must study and obey.”</span> -<span class="i2">“Ah!” thought the seaman, “what a head was mine,</span> -<span class="i0">That easy birth at Greenwich to resign!</span> -<span class="i0">I’ll to the parish”—but a little pride,</span> -<span class="i0">And some affection, put the thought aside.</span> -<span class="i2">Now gross neglect and open scorn he bore</span> -<span class="i0">In silent sorrow—but he felt the more;</span> -<span class="i0">The odious pipe he to the kitchen took, <span class="linenum">250</span></span> -<span class="i0">Or strove to profit by some pious book.</span> -<span class="i2">When the mind stoops to this degraded state,</span> -<span class="i0">New griefs will darken the dependent’s fate;</span> -<span class="i0">“Brother!” said Isaac, “you will sure excuse</span> -<span class="i0">The little freedom I’m compell’d to use:</span> -<span class="i0">My wife’s relations—(curse the haughty crew)—</span> -<span class="i0">Affect such niceness, and such dread of you:</span> -<span class="i0">You speak so loud—and they have natures soft—</span> -<span class="i0">Brother——I wish——do go upon the loft!”</span> -<span class="i2">Poor George obey’d, and to the garret fled, <span class="linenum">260</span></span> -<span class="i0">Where not a being saw the tears he shed.</span> -<span class="i0">But more was yet required, for guests were come,</span> -<span class="i0">Who could not dine if he disgraced the room.</span> -<span class="i0">It shock’d his spirit to be esteem’d unfit</span> -<span class="i0">With an own brother and his wife to sit;</span> -<span class="i0">He grew rebellious—at the vestry spoke</span> -<span class="i0">For weekly aid——they heard it as a joke:</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[Pg 272]</a></span> -<span class="i0">So kind a brother, and so wealthy——you</span> -<span class="i0">Apply to us?——No! this will never do:</span> -<span class="i0">Good neighbour Fletcher,” said the overseer, <span class="linenum">270</span></span> -<span class="i0">“We are engaged—you can have nothing here!”</span> -<span class="i2">George mutter’d something in despairing tone,</span> -<span class="i0">Then sought his loft, to think and grieve alone;</span> -<span class="i0">Neglected, slighted, restless on his bed,</span> -<span class="i0">With heart half broken, and with scraps ill fed;</span> -<span class="i0">Yet was he pleased that hours for play design’d</span> -<span class="i0">Were given to ease his ever-troubled mind;</span> -<span class="i0">The child still listen’d with increasing joy,</span> -<span class="i0">And he was soothed by the attentive boy.</span> -<span class="i2">At length he sicken’d, and this duteous child <span class="linenum">280</span></span> -<span class="i0">Watch’d o’er his sickness, and his pains beguiled;</span> -<span class="i0">The mother bade him from the loft refrain,</span> -<span class="i0">But, though with caution, yet he went again;</span> -<span class="i0">And now his tales the sailor feebly told,</span> -<span class="i0">His heart was heavy, and his limbs were cold:</span> -<span class="i0">The tender boy came often to entreat</span> -<span class="i0">His good kind friend would of his presents eat,</span> -<span class="i0">Purloin’d or purchased; for he saw, with shame,</span> -<span class="i0">The food untouch’d that to his uncle came:</span> -<span class="i0">Who, sick in body and in mind, received <span class="linenum">290</span></span> -<span class="i0">The boy’s indulgence, gratified and grieved.</span> -<span class="i2">“Uncle will die!” said George—the piteous wife</span> -<span class="i0">Exclaim’d, “she saw no value in his life;</span> -<span class="i0">But sick or well, to my commands attend,</span> -<span class="i0">And go no more to your complaining friend.”</span> -<span class="i0">The boy was vex’d, he felt his heart reprove</span> -<span class="i0">The stern decree.—What! punish’d for his love!</span> -<span class="i0">No! he would go, but softly, to the room</span> -<span class="i0">Stealing in silence—for he knew his doom.</span> -<span class="i2">Once in a week the father came to say, <span class="linenum">300</span></span> -<span class="i0">“George, are you ill?”—and hurried him away;</span> -<span class="i0">Yet to his wife would on their duties dwell,</span> -<span class="i0">And often cry, “Do use my brother well;”</span> -<span class="i0">And something kind, no question, Isaac meant,</span> -<span class="i0">Who took vast credit for the vague intent.</span> -<span class="i2">But, truly kind, the gentle boy essay’d</span> -<span class="i0">To cheer his uncle, firm, although afraid;</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[Pg 273]</a></span> -<span class="i0">But now the father caught him at the door,</span> -<span class="i0">And, swearing—yes, the man in office swore,</span> -<span class="i0">And cried, “Away! How! Brother, I’m surprised, <span class="linenum">310</span></span> -<span class="i0">That one so old can be so ill advised.</span> -<span class="i0">Let him not dare to visit you again,</span> -<span class="i0">Your cursed stories will disturb his brain;</span> -<span class="i0">Is it not vile to court a foolish boy,</span> -<span class="i0">Your own absurd narrations to enjoy?</span> -<span class="i0">What! sullen!—ha! George Fletcher? you shall see,</span> -<span class="i0">Proud as you are, your bread depends on me!”</span> -<span class="i2">He spoke, and, frowning, to his dinner went,</span> -<span class="i0">Then cool’d and felt some qualms of discontent;</span> -<span class="i0">And thought on times when he compell’d his son <span class="linenum">320</span></span> -<span class="i0">To hear these stories, nay, to beg for one;</span> -<span class="i0">But the wife’s wrath o’ercame the brother’s pain,</span> -<span class="i0">And shame was felt, and conscience rose in vain.</span> -<span class="i2">George yet stole up—he saw his uncle lie</span> -<span class="i0">Sick on the bed, and heard his heavy sigh:</span> -<span class="i0">So he resolved, before he went to rest,</span> -<span class="i0">To comfort one so dear and so distress’d;</span> -<span class="i0">Then watch’d his time, but, with a child-like art,</span> -<span class="i0">Betray’d a something treasured at his heart.</span> -<span class="i0">Th’ observant wife remark’d, “the boy is grown <span class="linenum">330</span></span> -<span class="i0">So like your brother, that he seems his own;</span> -<span class="i0">So close and sullen! and I still suspect</span> -<span class="i0">They often meet—do watch them and detect.”</span> -<span class="i2">George now remark’d that all was still as night,</span> -<span class="i0">And hasten’d up with terror and delight;</span> -<span class="i0">“Uncle!” he cried, and softly tapp’d the door;</span> -<span class="i0">“Do let me in”—but he could add no more;</span> -<span class="i0">The careful father caught him in the fact,</span> -<span class="i0">And cried, “You serpent! is it thus you act?</span> -<span class="i0">Back to your mother!” and, with hasty blow, <span class="linenum">340</span></span> -<span class="i0">He sent th’ indignant boy to grieve below;</span> -<span class="i0">Then at the door an angry speech began:</span> -<span class="i0">“Is this your conduct—is it thus you plan?</span> -<span class="i0">Seduce my child, and make my house a scene</span> -<span class="i0">Of vile dispute—What is it that you mean?—</span> -<span class="i0">George, are you dumb? do learn to know your friends,</span> -<span class="i0">And think awhile on whom your bread depends.—</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[Pg 274]</a></span> -<span class="i0">What! not a word? be thankful I am cool;</span> -<span class="i0">But, sir, beware, nor longer play the fool.—</span> -<span class="i0">Come! brother, come! what is that you seek <span class="linenum">350</span></span> -<span class="i0">By this rebellion?—Speak, you villain, speak!—</span> -<span class="i0">Weeping! I warrant, sorrow makes you dumb;</span> -<span class="i0">I’ll ope your mouth, impostor! if I come.</span> -<span class="i0">Let me approach—I’ll shake you from the bed,</span> -<span class="i0">You stubborn dog——Oh God! my brother’s dead!—”</span> -<span class="i2">Timid was Isaac, and in all the past</span> -<span class="i0">He felt a purpose to be kind at last;</span> -<span class="i0">Nor did he mean his brother to depart,</span> -<span class="i0">Till he had shown this kindness of his heart:</span> -<span class="i0">But day by day he put the cause aside, <span class="linenum">360</span></span> -<span class="i0">Induced by av’rice, peevishness, or pride.</span> -<span class="i2">But, now awaken’d, from this fatal time</span> -<span class="i0">His conscience Isaac felt, and found his crime:</span> -<span class="i0">He raised to George a monumental stone,</span> -<span class="i0">And there retired to sigh and think alone;</span> -<span class="i0">An ague seized him, he grew pale, and shook—</span> -<span class="i0">“So,” said his son, “would my poor uncle look.”—</span> -<span class="i0">“And so, my child, shall I like him expire.”—</span> -<span class="i0">“No! you have physic and a cheerful fire.”—</span> -<span class="i0">“Unhappy sinner! yes, I’m well supplied <span class="linenum">370</span></span> -<span class="i0">With every comfort my cold heart denied.”</span> -<span class="i0">He view’d his brother now, but not as one</span> -<span class="i0">Who vex’d his wife by fondness for her son;</span> -<span class="i0">Not as with wooden limb, and seaman’s tale,</span> -<span class="i0">The odious pipe, vile grog, or humbler ale:</span> -<span class="i0">He now the worth and grief alone can view</span> -<span class="i0">Of one so mild, so generous, and so true:</span> -<span class="i0">The frank, kind brother, with such open heart,</span> -<span class="i0">And I to break it—’twas a dæmon’s part!”</span> -<span class="i2">So Isaac now, as led by conscience, feels, <span class="linenum">380</span></span> -<span class="i0">Nor his unkindness palliates or conceals.</span> -<span class="i0">“This is your folly,” said his heartless wife;</span> -<span class="i0">“Alas! my folly cost my brother’s life:</span> -<span class="i0">It suffer’d him to languish and decay,<span class="ws12">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">My gentle brother, whom I could not pay, <span class="ws8">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">And therefore left to pine, and fret his life away.”  }</span> -<span class="i2">He takes his son, and bids the boy unfold</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[Pg 275]</a></span> -<span class="i0">All the good uncle of his feelings told,</span> -<span class="i0">All he lamented—and the ready tear</span> -<span class="i0">Falls as he listens, soothed and grieved to hear. <span class="linenum">390</span></span> -<span class="i2">“Did he not curse me, child?”—“He never cursed,</span> -<span class="i0">But could not breathe, and said his heart would burst”—</span> -<span class="i0">“And so will mine.”—“Then, father, you must pray;</span> -<span class="i0">My uncle said it took his pains away.”</span> -<span class="i2">Repeating thus his sorrows, Isaac shows <span class="ws9">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">That he, repenting, feels the debt he owes,<span class="ws10">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">And from this source alone his every comfort flows. }</span> -<span class="i0">He takes no joy in office, honours, gain;</span> -<span class="i0">They make him humble, nay, they give him pain;</span> -<span class="i0">“These from my heart,” he cries, “all feeling drove; <span class="linenum">400</span></span> -<span class="i0">They made me cold to nature, dead to love.”</span> -<span class="i0">He takes no joy in home, but, sighing, sees</span> -<span class="i0">A son in sorrow, and a wife at ease;</span> -<span class="i0">He takes no joy in office—see him now,</span> -<span class="i0">And Burgess Steel has but a passing bow;</span> -<span class="i0">Of one sad train of gloomy thoughts possess’d, <span class="ws4">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">He takes no joy in friends, in food, in rest—<span class="ws7">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Dark are the evil days, and void of peace the best.  }</span> -<span class="i0">And thus he lives, if living be to sigh,<span class="ws9">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">And from all comforts of the world to fly, <span class="ws5">}</span><span class="linenum">410</span></span> -<span class="i0">Without a hope in life—without a wish to die. }</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[Pg 276]</a></span> -</div></div> - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> -<h3>TALE XXI.</h3> -<p class="f110"><i>THE LEARNED BOY.</i></p> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poem2"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i8">Like one well studied in a sad ostent,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To please his grandam.<br /></span> -<span class="i17"><i>Merchant of Venice</i>, Act II. Scene 2.<br /><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i4">And then the whining school-boy, with his satchel<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And shining morning face, creeping like snail<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Unwillingly to school.<br /></span> -<span class="i21"><i>As You Like It</i>, Act II. Scene 7.<br /><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i2">He is a better scholar than I thought he was.—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He [is] a good sprag memory.<br /></span> -<span class="i13"><i>Merry Wives of Windsor</i>, Act IV. Scene 1.<br /><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i25">One that feeds<br /></span> -<span class="i0">On objects, arts, and imitations,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Which, out of use, and stal’d by other men,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Begin his fashion.<br /></span> -<span class="i22"><i>Julius Cæsar,</i> Act IV. Scene 1.<br /><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Oh! torture me no more—I will confess.<br /></span> -<span class="i24">2 <i>Henry VI.</i> Act III. Scene 3.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[Pg 277]</a></span> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="f120 break space-above2"><b>TALE XXI.</b></p> -<p class="f110"><i>THE LEARNED BOY.</i></p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">An honest man was Farmer Jones, and true;</span> -<span class="i0">He did by all as all by him should do;</span> -<span class="i0">Grave, cautious, careful, fond of gain was he,</span> -<span class="i0">Yet famed for rustic hospitality.</span> -<span class="i0">Left with his children in a widow’d state,</span> -<span class="i0">The quiet man submitted to his fate;</span> -<span class="i0">Though prudent matrons waited for his call,</span> -<span class="i0">With cool forbearance he avoided all;</span> -<span class="i0">Though each profess’d a pure maternal joy,</span> -<span class="i0">By kind attention to his feeble boy. <span class="linenum">10</span></span> -<span class="i0">And—though a friendly widow knew no rest,</span> -<span class="i0">Whilst neighbour Jones was lonely and distress’d,</span> -<span class="i0">Nay, though the maidens spoke in tender tone</span> -<span class="i0">Their hearts’ concern to see him left alone—</span> -<span class="i0">Jones still persisted in that cheerless life,</span> -<span class="i0">As if t’were sin to take a second wife.</span> -<span class="i2">Oh! ’tis a precious thing, when wives are dead,</span> -<span class="i0">To find such numbers who will serve instead;</span> -<span class="i0">And, in whatever state a man be thrown,</span> -<span class="i0">’Tis that precisely they would wish their own. <span class="linenum">20</span></span> -<span class="i0">Left the departed infants—then their joy</span> -<span class="i0">Is to sustain each lovely girl and boy;</span> -<span class="i0">Whatever calling his, whatever trade,</span> -<span class="i0">To that their chief attention has been paid;</span> -<span class="i0">His happy taste in all things they approve,</span> -<span class="i0">His friends they honour, and his food they love;</span> -<span class="i0">His wish for order, prudence in affairs,</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[Pg 278]</a></span> -<span class="i0">And equal temper, (thank their stars!) are theirs;</span> -<span class="i0">In fact, it seem’d to be a thing decreed,</span> -<span class="i0">And fix’d as fate, that marriage must succeed. <span class="linenum">30</span></span> -<span class="i0">Yet some, like Jones, with stubborn hearts and hard,</span> -<span class="i0">Can hear such claims, and show them no regard.</span> -<span class="i2">Soon as our farmer, like a general, found</span> -<span class="i0">By what strong foes he was encompass’d round—</span> -<span class="i0">Engage he dared not, and he could not fly,</span> -<span class="i0">But saw his hope in gentle parley lie;</span> -<span class="i0">With looks of kindness then, and trembling heart,</span> -<span class="i0">He met the foe, and art opposed to art.</span> -<span class="i2">Now spoke that foe insidious—gentle tones,</span> -<span class="i0">And gentle looks, assumed for Farmer Jones: <span class="linenum">40</span></span> -<span class="i0">“Three girls,” the widow cried, “a lively three</span> -<span class="i0">To govern well—indeed it cannot be.”</span> -<span class="i0">“Yes,” he replied, “it calls for pains and care;</span> -<span class="i0">But I must bear it.”—“Sir, you cannot bear;</span> -<span class="i0">Your son is weak, and asks a mother’s eye.”—</span> -<span class="i0">“That, my kind friend, a father’s may supply.”—</span> -<span class="i0">“Such growing griefs your very soul will tease.”—</span> -<span class="i0">“To grieve another would not give me ease;</span> -<span class="i0">I have a mother.”—“She, poor ancient soul!</span> -<span class="i0">Can she the spirits of the young control? <span class="linenum">50</span></span> -<span class="i0">Can she thy peace promote, partake thy care,</span> -<span class="i0">Procure thy comforts, and thy sorrows share?</span> -<span class="i0">Age is itself impatient, uncontroll’d.”—</span> -<span class="i0">“But wives like mothers must at length be old.”—</span> -<span class="i0">“Thou hast shrewd servants—they are evils sore.”—</span> -<span class="i0">“Yet a shrewd mistress might afflict me more.”—</span> -<span class="i0">“Wilt thou not be a weary wailing man?”—</span> -<span class="i0">“Alas! and I must bear it as I can.”</span> -<span class="i2">Resisted thus, the widow soon withdrew,</span> -<span class="i0">That in his pride the hero might pursue; <span class="linenum">60</span></span> -<span class="i0">And off his wonted guard, in some retreat,</span> -<span class="i0">Find from a foe prepared entire defeat.</span> -<span class="i0">But he was prudent, for he knew in flight</span> -<span class="i0">These Parthian warriors turn again and fight;</span> -<span class="i0">He but at freedom, not at glory aim’d,</span> -<span class="i0">And only safety by his caution claim’d.</span> -<span class="i2">Thus, when a great and powerful state decrees</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[Pg 279]</a></span> -<span class="i0">Upon a small one, in its love, to seize—</span> -<span class="i0">It vows in kindness to protect, defend,</span> -<span class="i0">And be the fond ally, the faithful friend; <span class="linenum">70</span></span> -<span class="i0">It therefore wills that humbler state to place</span> -<span class="i0">Its hopes of safety in a fond embrace:</span> -<span class="i0">Then must that humbler state its wisdom prove,</span> -<span class="i0">By kind rejection of such pressing love;</span> -<span class="i0">Must dread such dangerous friendship to commence,</span> -<span class="i0">And stand collected in its own defence.—</span> -<span class="i0">Our farmer thus the proffer’d kindness fled,</span> -<span class="i0">And shunn’d the love that into bondage led.</span> -<span class="i2">The widow failing, fresh besiegers came,</span> -<span class="i0">To share the fate of this retiring dame; <span class="linenum">80</span></span> -<span class="i0">And each foresaw a thousand ills attend</span> -<span class="i0">The man that fled from so discreet a friend;</span> -<span class="i0">And pray’d, kind soul! that no event might make</span> -<span class="i0">The harden’d heart of Farmer Jones to ache.</span> -<span class="i2">But he still govern’d with resistless hand,</span> -<span class="i0">And where he could not guide he would command.</span> -<span class="i0">With steady view in course direct he steer’d,</span> -<span class="i0">And his fair daughters loved him, though they fear’d;</span> -<span class="i0">Each had her school, and, as his wealth was known,</span> -<span class="i0">Each had in time a household of her own. <span class="linenum">90</span></span> -<span class="i2">The boy indeed was, at the grandam’s side,</span> -<span class="i0">Humour’d and train’d, her trouble and her pride:</span> -<span class="i0">Companions dear, with speech and spirits mild,</span> -<span class="i0">The childish widow and the vapourish child.</span> -<span class="i0">This nature prompts; minds uninform’d and weak</span> -<span class="i0">In such alliance ease and comfort seek;</span> -<span class="i0">Push’d by the levity of youth aside,<span class="ws8">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">The cares of man, his humour, or his pride, }</span> -<span class="i0">They feel, in their defenceless state, allied.  }</span> -<span class="i0">The child is pleased to meet regard from age, <span class="linenum">100</span></span> -<span class="i0">The old are pleased ev’n children to engage;</span> -<span class="i0">And all their wisdom, scorn’d by proud mankind,</span> -<span class="i0">They love to pour into the ductile mind,</span> -<span class="i0">By its own weakness into error led,</span> -<span class="i0">And by fond age with prejudices fed.</span> -<span class="i2">The father, thankful for the good he had,</span> -<span class="i0">Yet saw with pain a whining, timid lad;</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[Pg 280]</a></span> -<span class="i0">Whom he, instructing, led through cultured fields,</span> -<span class="i0">To show what man performs, what nature yields;</span> -<span class="i0">But Stephen, listless, wander’d from the view;<span class="ws6">}</span><span class="linenum">110</span></span> -<span class="i0">From beasts he fled, for butterflies he flew, <span class="ws8">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">And idly gazed about, in search of something new.  }</span> -<span class="i0">The lambs indeed he loved, and wish’d to play</span> -<span class="i0">With things so mild, so harmless, and so gay;</span> -<span class="i0">Best pleased the weakest of the flock to see,</span> -<span class="i0">With whom he felt a sickly sympathy.</span> -<span class="i2">Meantime, the dame was anxious, day and night,<span class="ws7">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">To guide the notions of her babe aright, <span class="ws16">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">And on the favourite mind to throw her glimmering light; }</span> -<span class="i0">Her Bible-stories she impress’d betimes, <span class="linenum">120</span></span> -<span class="i0">And fill’d his head with hymns and holy rhymes;</span> -<span class="i0">On powers unseen, the good and ill, she dwelt,</span> -<span class="i0">And the poor boy mysterious terrors felt;</span> -<span class="i0">From frightful dreams, he, waking, sobb’d in dread,</span> -<span class="i0">Till the good lady came to guard his bed.</span> -<span class="i2">The father wish’d such errors to correct,</span> -<span class="i0">But let them pass in duty and respect.</span> -<span class="i0">But more it grieved his worthy mind to see</span> -<span class="i0">That Stephen never would a farmer be;</span> -<span class="i0">In vain he tried the shiftless lad to guide, <span class="linenum">130</span></span> -<span class="i0">And yet ’twas time that something should be tried.</span> -<span class="i0">He at the village-school perchance might gain</span> -<span class="i0">All that such mind could gather and retain;</span> -<span class="i0">Yet the good dame affirm’d her favourite child</span> -<span class="i0">Was apt and studious, though sedate and mild;</span> -<span class="i0">“That he on many a learned point could speak,</span> -<span class="i0">And that his body, not his mind, was weak.”</span> -<span class="i2">The father doubted—but to school was sent</span> -<span class="i0">The timid Stephen, weeping as he went:</span> -<span class="i0">There the rude lads compell’d the child to fight, <span class="linenum">140</span></span> -<span class="i0">And sent him bleeding to his home at night;</span> -<span class="i0">At this the grandam more indulgent grew,</span> -<span class="i0">And bade her darling “shun the beastly crew;</span> -<span class="i0">Whom Satan ruled, and who were sure to lie</span> -<span class="i0">Howling in torments, when they came to die.”</span> -<span class="i0">This was such comfort, that in high disdain</span> -<span class="i0">He told their fate, and felt their blows again.</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[Pg 281]</a></span> -<span class="i0">Yet, if the boy had not a hero’s heart,</span> -<span class="i0">Within the school he play’d a better part:</span> -<span class="i0">He wrote a clean, fine hand, and at his slate <span class="linenum">150</span></span> -<span class="i0">With more success than many a hero sate;</span> -<span class="i0">He thought not much indeed—but what depends</span> -<span class="i0">On pains and care was at his fingers’ ends.</span> -<span class="i2">This had his father’s praise, who now espied</span> -<span class="i0">A spark of merit, with a blaze of pride;</span> -<span class="i0">And, though a farmer he would never make,</span> -<span class="i0">He might a pen with some advantage take;</span> -<span class="i0">And as a clerk that instrument employ,</span> -<span class="i0">So well adapted to a timid boy.</span> -<span class="i2">A London cousin soon a place obtain’d, <span class="linenum">160</span></span> -<span class="i0">Easy but humble—little could be gain’d.</span> -<span class="i0">The time arrived when youth and age must part,</span> -<span class="i0">Tears in each eye, and sorrow in each heart;</span> -<span class="i0">The careful father bade his son attend</span> -<span class="i0">To all his duties, and obey his friend;</span> -<span class="i0">To keep his church and there behave aright,  }</span> -<span class="i0">As one existing in his Maker’s sight,<span class="ws8">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Till acts to habits led, and duty to delight:<span class="ws4">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">“Then try, my boy, as quickly as you can,</span> -<span class="i0">T’ assume the looks and spirit of a man; <span class="linenum">170</span></span> -<span class="i0">I say, be honest, faithful, civil, true,</span> -<span class="i0">And this you may, and yet have courage too.</span> -<span class="i0">Heroic men, their country’s boast and pride,</span> -<span class="i0">Have fear’d their God, and nothing fear’d beside;</span> -<span class="i0">While others daring, yet imbecile, fly</span> -<span class="i0">The power of man, and that of God defy.</span> -<span class="i0">Be manly then, though mild, for, sure as fate,</span> -<span class="i0">Thou art, my Stephen, too effeminate;</span> -<span class="i0">Here, take my purse, and make a worthy use</span> -<span class="i0">(’Tis fairly stock’d) of what it will produce; <span class="linenum">180</span></span> -<span class="i0">And now my blessing, not as any charm</span> -<span class="i0">Or conjuration; but ’twill do no harm.”</span> -<span class="i2">Stephen, whose thoughts were wandering up and down,</span> -<span class="i0">Now charm’d with promised sights in London-town,</span> -<span class="i0">Now loth to leave his grandam—lost the force,</span> -<span class="i0">The drift and tenor of this grave discourse;</span> -<span class="i0">But, in a general way, he understood</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[Pg 282]</a></span> -<span class="i0">’Twas good advice, and meant, “My son, be good;”</span> -<span class="i0">And Stephen knew that all such precepts mean,</span> -<span class="i0">That lads should read their Bible, and be clean. <span class="linenum">190</span></span> -<span class="i2">The good old lady, though in some distress,</span> -<span class="i0">Begg’d her dear Stephen would his grief suppress:</span> -<span class="i0">“Nay, dry those eyes, my child—and, first of all,</span> -<span class="i0">Hold fast thy faith, whatever may befall;</span> -<span class="i0">Hear the best preacher, and preserve the text</span> -<span class="i0">For meditation, till you hear the next;</span> -<span class="i0">Within your Bible night and morning look—</span> -<span class="i0">There is your duty, read no other book;</span> -<span class="i0">Be not in crowds, in broils, in riots seen,</span> -<span class="i0">And keep your conscience and your linen clean. <span class="linenum">200</span></span> -<span class="i0">Be you a Joseph, and the time may be,</span> -<span class="i0">When kings and rulers will be ruled by thee.”</span> -<span class="i2">“Nay,” said the father——“Hush, my son,” replied</span> -<span class="i0">The dame——“The Scriptures must not be denied.”</span> -<span class="i2">The lad, still weeping, heard the wheels approach,</span> -<span class="i0">And took his place within the evening coach,</span> -<span class="i0">With heart quite rent asunder: On one side</span> -<span class="i0">Was love, and grief, and fear, for scenes untried;</span> -<span class="i0">Wild beasts and wax-work fill’d the happier part</span> -<span class="i0">Of Stephen’s varying and divided heart; <span class="linenum">210</span></span> -<span class="i0">This he betray’d by sighs and questions strange,</span> -<span class="i0">Of famous shows, the Tower, and the Exchange.</span> -<span class="i2">Soon at his desk was placed the curious boy,</span> -<span class="i0">Demure and silent at his new employ;</span> -<span class="i0">Yet, as he could, he much attention paid</span> -<span class="i0">To all around him, cautious and afraid.</span> -<span class="i0">On older clerks his eager eyes were fix’d,</span> -<span class="i0">But Stephen never in their council mix’d;</span> -<span class="i0">Much their contempt he fear’d, for, if like them,</span> -<span class="i0">He felt assured he should himself contemn: <span class="linenum">220</span></span> -<span class="i0">“Oh! they were all so eloquent, so free,</span> -<span class="i0">No! he was nothing—nothing could he be.</span> -<span class="i0">They dress so smartly, and so boldly look,</span> -<span class="i0">And talk as if they read it from a book;</span> -<span class="i0">But I,” said Stephen, “will forbear to speak,</span> -<span class="i0">And they will think me prudent, and not weak.</span> -<span class="i0">They talk, the instant they have dropp’d the pen,</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[Pg 283]</a></span> -<span class="i0">Of singing-women and of acting-men;</span> -<span class="i0">Of plays and places where at night they walk</span> -<span class="i0">Beneath the lamps, and with the ladies talk; <span class="linenum">230</span></span> -<span class="i0">While other ladies for their pleasure sing,</span> -<span class="i0">Oh! ’tis a glorious and a happy thing.</span> -<span class="i0">They would despise me, did they understand</span> -<span class="i0">I dare not look upon a scene so grand;</span> -<span class="i0">Or see the plays when critics rise and roar,</span> -<span class="i0">And hiss and groan, and cry—‘Encore! encore!’—</span> -<span class="i0">There’s one among them looks a little kind;</span> -<span class="i0">If more encouraged, I would ope my mind.”</span> -<span class="i2">Alas! poor Stephen, happier had he kept</span> -<span class="i0">His purpose secret, while his envy slept; <span class="linenum">240</span></span> -<span class="i0">Virtue, perhaps, had conquer’d, or his shame</span> -<span class="i0">At least preserved him simple as he came.</span> -<span class="i0">A year elapsed before this clerk began</span> -<span class="i0">To treat the rustic something like a man;</span> -<span class="i0">He then in trifling points the youth advised,</span> -<span class="i0">Talk’d of his coat, and had it modernized;</span> -<span class="i0">Or with the lad a Sunday-walk would take,</span> -<span class="i0">And kindly strive his passions to awake;</span> -<span class="i0">Meanwhile explaining all they heard and saw,</span> -<span class="i0">Till Stephen stood in wonderment and awe. <span class="linenum">250</span></span> -<span class="i0">To a neat garden near the town they stray’d,</span> -<span class="i0">Where the lad felt delighted and afraid;</span> -<span class="i0">There all he saw was smart, and fine, and fair—</span> -<span class="i0">He could but marvel how he ventured there:</span> -<span class="i0">Soon he observed, with terror and alarm,</span> -<span class="i0">His friend enlock’d within a lady’s arm,</span> -<span class="i0">And freely talking—“But it is,” said he,</span> -<span class="i0">“A near relation, and that makes him free;”</span> -<span class="i0">And much amazed was Stephen, when he knew</span> -<span class="i0">This was the first and only interview; <span class="linenum">260</span></span> -<span class="i0">Nay, had that lovely arm by him been seized,</span> -<span class="i0">The lovely owner had been highly pleased:</span> -<span class="i0">“Alas!” he sigh’d, “I never can contrive,</span> -<span class="i0">At such bold, blessed freedoms to arrive;</span> -<span class="i0">Never shall I such happy courage boast;</span> -<span class="i0">I dare as soon encounter with a ghost.”</span> -<span class="i2">Now to a play the friendly couple went,</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[Pg 284]</a></span> -<span class="i0">But the boy murmur’d at the money spent;</span> -<span class="i0">“He loved,” he said, “to buy, but not to spend—</span> -<span class="i0">They only talk awhile, and there’s an end.” <span class="linenum">270</span></span> -<span class="i2">“Come, you shall purchase books,” the friend replied;</span> -<span class="i0">“You are bewilder’d, and you want a guide;</span> -<span class="i0">To me refer the choice, and you shall find</span> -<span class="i0">The light break in upon your stagnant mind!”</span> -<span class="i2">The cooler clerks exclaim’d, “In vain your art</span> -<span class="i0">T’ improve a cub without a head or heart;</span> -<span class="i0">Rustics, though coarse, and savages, though wild,</span> -<span class="i0">Our cares may render liberal and mild;</span> -<span class="i0">But what, my friend, can flow from all these pains?</span> -<span class="i0">There is no dealing with a lack of brains.”— <span class="linenum">280</span></span> -<span class="i2">“True I am hopeless to behold him man;</span> -<span class="i0">But let me make the booby what I can:</span> -<span class="i0">Though the rude stone no polish will display,</span> -<span class="i0">Yet you may strip the rugged coat away.”</span> -<span class="i2">Stephen beheld his books—“I love to know</span> -<span class="i0">How money goes—now here is that to show;</span> -<span class="i0">And now,” he cried, “I shall be pleased to get</span> -<span class="i0">Beyond the Bible—there I puzzle yet.”</span> -<span class="i2">He spoke abash’d—“Nay, nay!” the friend replied,</span> -<span class="i0">“You need not lay the good old book aside; <span class="linenum">290</span></span> -<span class="i0">Antique and curious, I myself indeed</span> -<span class="i0">Read it at times, but as a man should read;</span> -<span class="i0">A fine old work it is, and I protest</span> -<span class="i0">I hate to hear it treated as a jest;</span> -<span class="i0">The book has wisdom in it, if you look</span> -<span class="i0">Wisely upon it, as another book;</span> -<span class="i0">For superstition (as our priests of sin</span> -<span class="i0">Are pleased to tell us) makes us blind within.—</span> -<span class="i0">Of this hereafter—we will now select</span> -<span class="i0">Some works to please you, others to direct; <span class="linenum">300</span></span> -<span class="i0">Tales and romances shall your fancy feed,</span> -<span class="i0">And reasoners form your morals and your creed.”</span> -<span class="i2">The books were view’d, the price was fairly paid,</span> -<span class="i0">And Stephen read, undaunted, undismay’d—</span> -<span class="i0">But not till first he paper’d all the row,</span> -<span class="i0">And placed in order, to enjoy the show;</span> -<span class="i0">Next letter’d all the backs with care and speed,</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[Pg 285]</a></span> -<span class="i0">Set them in ranks, and then began to read.</span> -<span class="i2">The love of order,—I the thing receive</span> -<span class="i0">From reverend men, and I in part believe— <span class="linenum">310</span></span> -<span class="i0">Shows a clear mind and clean, and whoso needs</span> -<span class="i0">This love but seldom in the world succeeds;</span> -<span class="i0">And yet with this some other love must be,</span> -<span class="i0">Ere I can fully to the fact agree.</span> -<span class="i0">Valour and study may by order gain,</span> -<span class="i0">By order sovereigns hold more steady reign;</span> -<span class="i0">Through all the tribes of nature order runs,</span> -<span class="i0">And rules around in systems and in suns;</span> -<span class="i0">Still has the love of order found a place <span class="ws13">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">With all that’s low, degrading, mean, and base, <span class="ws7">}</span><span class="linenum">320</span></span> -<span class="i0">With all that merits scorn, and all that meets disgrace: }</span> -<span class="i0">In the cold miser, of all change afraid;</span> -<span class="i0">In pompous men, in public seats obey’d;</span> -<span class="i0">In humble placemen, heralds, solemn drones,</span> -<span class="i0">Fanciers of flowers, and lads like Stephen Jones;</span> -<span class="i0">Order to these is armour and defence,</span> -<span class="i0">And love of method serves in lack of sense.</span> -<span class="i2">For rustic youth could I a list produce</span> -<span class="i0">Of Stephen’s books, how great might be the use;</span> -<span class="i0">But evil fate was theirs—survey’d, enjoy’d <span class="linenum">330</span></span> -<span class="i0">Some happy months, and then by force destroy’d.</span> -<span class="i0">So will’d the fates—but these, with patience read,</span> -<span class="i0">Had vast effect on Stephen’s heart and head.</span> -<span class="i2">This soon appear’d—within a single week</span> -<span class="i0">He oped his lips, and made attempt to speak;</span> -<span class="i0">He fail’d indeed—but still his friend confess’d</span> -<span class="i0">The best have fail’d, and he had done his best.</span> -<span class="i0">The first of swimmers, when at first he swims,</span> -<span class="i0">Has little use or freedom in his limbs;</span> -<span class="i0">Nay, when at length he strikes with manly force, <span class="linenum">340</span></span> -<span class="i0">The cramp may seize him, and impede his course.</span> -<span class="i2">Encouraged thus, our clerk again essay’d</span> -<span class="i0">The daring act, though daunted and afraid;</span> -<span class="i0">Succeeding now, though partial his success,</span> -<span class="i0">And pertness mark’d his manner and address,</span> -<span class="i0">Yet such improvement issued from his books,</span> -<span class="i0">That all discern’d it in his speech and looks.</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[Pg 286]</a></span> -<span class="i0">He ventured then on every theme to speak,</span> -<span class="i0">And felt no feverish tingling in his cheek;</span> -<span class="i0">His friend, approving, hail’d the happy change; <span class="linenum">350</span></span> -<span class="i0">The clerks exclaim’d—“’Tis famous, and ’tis strange.”—</span> -<span class="i2">Two years had pass’d; the youth attended still,</span> -<span class="i0">(Though thus accomplish’d) with a ready quill;</span> -<span class="i0">He sat th’ allotted hours, though hard the case,</span> -<span class="i0">While timid prudence ruled in virtue’s place;</span> -<span class="i0">By promise bound, the son his letters penn’d</span> -<span class="i0">To his good parent, at the quarter’s end.</span> -<span class="i0">At first, he sent those lines, the state to tell</span> -<span class="i0">Of his own health, and hoped his friends were well;</span> -<span class="i0">He kept their virtuous precepts in his mind, <span class="linenum">360</span></span> -<span class="i0">And needed nothing—then his name was sign’d;</span> -<span class="i0">But now he wrote of Sunday walks and views,</span> -<span class="i0">Of actors’ names, choice novels, and strange news;</span> -<span class="i0">How coats were cut, and of his urgent need</span> -<span class="i0">For fresh supply, which he desired with speed.</span> -<span class="i0">The father doubted, when these letters came,</span> -<span class="i0">To what they tended, yet was loth to blame:</span> -<span class="i0">“Stephen was once <i>my duteous son</i>, and now</span> -<span class="i0"><i>My most obedient</i>—this can I allow?</span> -<span class="i0">Can I with pleasure or with patience see <span class="linenum">370</span></span> -<span class="i0">A boy at once so heartless, and so free?”</span> -<span class="i2">But soon the kinsman heavy tidings told,</span> -<span class="i0">That love and prudence could no more withhold:</span> -<span class="i0">“Stephen, though steady at his desk, was grown</span> -<span class="i0">A rake and coxcomb—this he grieved to own;</span> -<span class="i0">His cousin left his church, and spent the day</span> -<span class="i0">Lounging about in quite a heathen way;</span> -<span class="i0">Sometimes he swore, but had indeed the grace</span> -<span class="i0">To show the shame imprinted on his face.</span> -<span class="i0">I search’d his room, and in his absence read <span class="linenum">380</span></span> -<span class="i0">Books that I knew would turn a stronger head:</span> -<span class="i0">The works of atheists half the number made,</span> -<span class="i0">The rest were lives of harlots leaving trade;</span> -<span class="i0">Which neither man nor boy would deign to read,</span> -<span class="i0">If from the scandal and pollution freed.</span> -<span class="i0">I sometimes threaten’d, and would fairly state</span> -<span class="i0">My sense of things so vile and profligate;</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[Pg 287]</a></span> -<span class="i0">But I’m a cit, such works are lost on me—</span> -<span class="i0">They’re knowledge, and (good Lord!) philosophy.”</span> -<span class="i2">“Oh, send him down,” the father soon replied; <span class="linenum">390</span></span> -<span class="i0">“Let me behold him, and my skill be tried:</span> -<span class="i0">If care and kindness lose their wonted use,</span> -<span class="i0">Some rougher medicine will the end produce.”</span> -<span class="i2">Stephen with grief and anger heard his doom—</span> -<span class="i0">“Go to the farmer? to the rustic’s home?</span> -<span class="i0">Curse the base threat’ning—” “Nay, child, never curse;</span> -<span class="i0">Corrupted long, your case is growing worse.”—</span> -<span class="i0">“I!” quoth the youth, “I challenge all mankind</span> -<span class="i0">To find a fault; what fault have you to find?</span> -<span class="i0">Improve I not in manner, speech, and grace? <span class="linenum">400</span></span> -<span class="i0">Inquire—my friends will tell it to your face;</span> -<span class="i0">Have I been taught to guard his kine and sheep?</span> -<span class="i0">A man like me has other things to keep;</span> -<span class="i0">This let him know.”—“It would his wrath excite;</span> -<span class="i0">But come, prepare, you must away to-night.”—</span> -<span class="i0">“What! leave my studies, my improvements leave,</span> -<span class="i0">My faithful friends and intimates to grieve!”—</span> -<span class="i0">“Go to your father, Stephen, let him see</span> -<span class="i0">All these improvements; they are lost on me.”</span> -<span class="i2">The youth, though loth, obey’d, and soon he saw <span class="linenum">410</span></span> -<span class="i0">The farmer-father, with some signs of awe:</span> -<span class="i0">Who kind, yet silent, waited to behold</span> -<span class="i0">How one would act, so daring, yet so cold;</span> -<span class="i0">And soon he found, between the friendly pair</span> -<span class="i0">That secrets pass’d which he was not to share;</span> -<span class="i0">But he resolved those secrets to obtain,</span> -<span class="i0">And quash rebellion in his lawful reign.</span> -<span class="i2">Stephen, though vain, was with his father mute;</span> -<span class="i0">He fear’d a crisis, and he shunn’d dispute;</span> -<span class="i0">And yet he long’d with youthful pride to show <span class="linenum">420</span></span> -<span class="i0">He knew such things as farmers could not know;</span> -<span class="i0">These to the grandam he with freedom spoke,</span> -<span class="i0">Saw her amazement, and enjoy’d the joke.</span> -<span class="i0">But, on the father when he cast his eye,</span> -<span class="i0">Something he found that made his valour shy;</span> -<span class="i0">And thus there seem’d to be a hollow truce,</span> -<span class="i0">Still threat’ning something dismal to produce.</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">[Pg 288]</a></span> -<span class="i2">Ere this the father at his leisure read</span> -<span class="i0">The son’s choice volumes, and his wonder fled;</span> -<span class="i0">He saw how wrought the works of either kind <span class="linenum">430</span></span> -<span class="i0">On so presuming, yet so weak, a mind;</span> -<span class="i0">These in a chosen hour he made his prey,</span> -<span class="i0">Condemn’d, and bore with vengeful thoughts away;</span> -<span class="i0">Then in a close recess the couple near,</span> -<span class="i0">He sat unseen to see, unheard to hear.</span> -<span class="i2">There soon a trial for his patience came;</span> -<span class="i0">Beneath were placed the youth and ancient dame,</span> -<span class="i0">Each on a purpose fix’d—but neither thought</span> -<span class="i0">How near a foe, with power and vengeance fraught.</span> -<span class="i2">And now the matron told, as tidings sad, <span class="linenum">440</span></span> -<span class="i0">What she had heard of her beloved lad;</span> -<span class="i0">How he to graceless, wicked men gave heed,</span> -<span class="i0">And wicked books would night and morning read;</span> -<span class="i0">Some former lectures she again began,</span> -<span class="i0">And begg’d attention of her little man;</span> -<span class="i0">She brought, with many a pious boast, in view</span> -<span class="i0">His former studies, and condemn’d the new:</span> -<span class="i0">Once he the names of saints and patriarchs old,</span> -<span class="i0">Judges and kings, and chiefs and prophets, told;</span> -<span class="i0">Then he in winter-nights the Bible took, <span class="linenum">450</span></span> -<span class="i0">To count how often in the sacred book</span> -<span class="i0">The sacred name appear’d, and could rehearse</span> -<span class="i0">Which were the middle chapter, word, and verse,</span> -<span class="i0">The very letter in the middle placed,</span> -<span class="i0">And so employ’d the hours that others waste.</span> -<span class="i2">“Such wert thou once; and now, my child, they say</span> -<span class="i0">Thy faith like water runneth fast away;</span> -<span class="i0">The prince of devils hath, I fear, beguiled</span> -<span class="i0">The ready wit of my backsliding child.”</span> -<span class="i2">On this, with lofty looks, our clerk began <span class="linenum">460</span></span> -<span class="i0">His grave rebuke, as he assumed the man—</span> -<span class="i2">“There is no devil,” said the hopeful youth,</span> -<span class="i0">“Nor prince of devils; that I know for truth.</span> -<span class="i0">Have I not told you how my books describe</span> -<span class="i0">The arts of priests and all the canting tribe?</span> -<span class="i0">Your Bible mentions Egypt, where, it seems,</span> -<span class="i0">Was Joseph found when Pharaoh dream’d his dreams.</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">[Pg 289]</a></span> -<span class="i0">Now, in that place, in some bewilder’d head,</span> -<span class="i0">(The learned write) religious dreams were bred;</span> -<span class="i0">Whence through the earth, with various forms combined,</span> -<span class="i0">They came to frighten and afflict mankind, <span class="linenum">471</span></span> -<span class="i0">Prone (so I read) to let a priest invade<span class="ws9">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Their souls with awe, and by his craft be made }</span> -<span class="i0">Slave to his will, and profit to his trade. <span class="ws7">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">So say my books, and how the rogues agreed</span> -<span class="i0">To blind the victims, to defraud and lead;</span> -<span class="i0">When joys above to ready dupes were sold,</span> -<span class="i0">And hell was threaten’d to the shy and cold.</span> -<span class="i2">“Why so amazed, and so prepared to pray?</span> -<span class="i0">As if a Being heard a word we say! <span class="linenum">480</span></span> -<span class="i0">This may surprise you; I myself began</span> -<span class="i0">To feel disturb’d, and to my Bible ran;</span> -<span class="i0">I now am wiser—yet agree in this,</span> -<span class="i0">The book has things that are not much amiss;</span> -<span class="i0">It is a fine old work, and I protest</span> -<span class="i0">I hate to hear it treated as a jest:</span> -<span class="i0">The book has wisdom in it, if you look</span> -<span class="i0">Wisely upon it as another book.”—</span> -<span class="i2">“Oh! wicked! wicked! my unhappy child,</span> -<span class="i0">How hast thou been by evil men beguiled!”— <span class="linenum">490</span></span> -<span class="i2">“How! wicked, say you? you can little guess</span> -<span class="i0">The gain of that which you call wickedness:</span> -<span class="i0">Why, sins you think it sinful but to name</span> -<span class="i0">Have gain’d both wives and widows wealth and fame;</span> -<span class="i0">And this, because such people never dread</span> -<span class="i0">Those threaten’d pains; hell comes not in their head.</span> -<span class="i0">Love is our nature, wealth we all desire,</span> -<span class="i0">And what we wish ’tis lawful to acquire;</span> -<span class="i0">So say my books—and what beside they show</span> -<span class="i0">’Tis time to let this honest farmer know. <span class="linenum">500</span></span> -<span class="i0">Nay, look not grave; am I commanded down</span> -<span class="i0">To feed his cattle and become his clown?</span> -<span class="i0">Is such his purpose? then he shall be told</span> -<span class="i0">The vulgar insult——”</span> -<span class="i18">——“Hold, in mercy hold—”</span> -<span class="i0">“Father, oh! father! throw the whip away;</span> -<span class="i0">I was but jesting, on my knees I pray—</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">[Pg 290]</a></span> -<span class="i0">There, hold his arm—oh! leave us not alone;</span> -<span class="i0">In pity cease, and I will yet atone</span> -<span class="i0">For all my sin—” In vain: stroke after stroke</span> -<span class="i0">On side and shoulder quick as mill-wheels broke; <span class="linenum">510</span></span> -<span class="i0">Quick as the patient’s pulse, who trembling cried,</span> -<span class="i0">And still the parent with a stroke replied;</span> -<span class="i0">Till all the medicine he prepared was dealt,</span> -<span class="i0">And every bone the precious influence felt;</span> -<span class="i0">Till all the panting flesh was red and raw,</span> -<span class="i0">And every thought was turn’d to fear and awe;</span> -<span class="i0">Till every doubt to due respect gave place—</span> -<span class="i0">Such cures are done when doctors know the case.</span> -<span class="i2">“Oh! I shall die—my father! do receive</span> -<span class="i0">My dying words; indeed, I do believe; <span class="linenum">520</span></span> -<span class="i0">The books are lying books, I know it well,</span> -<span class="i0">There is a devil, oh! there is a hell;</span> -<span class="i0">And I’m a sinner: spare me, I am young,</span> -<span class="i0">My sinful words were only on my tongue;</span> -<span class="i0">My heart consented not; ’tis all a lie:</span> -<span class="i0">Oh! spare me then, I’m not prepared to die.”</span> -<span class="i2">“Vain, worthless, stupid wretch!” the father cried,</span> -<span class="i0">“Dost thou presume to teach? art thou a guide?</span> -<span class="i0">Driveller and dog, it gave the mind distress</span> -<span class="i0">To hear thy thoughts in their religious dress; <span class="linenum">530</span></span> -<span class="i0">Thy pious folly moved my strong disdain,</span> -<span class="i0">Yet I forgave thee for thy want of brain.</span> -<span class="i0">But Job in patience must the man exceed</span> -<span class="i0">Who could endure thee in thy present creed;</span> -<span class="i0">Is it for thee, thou idiot, to pretend</span> -<span class="i0">The wicked cause a helping hand to lend?</span> -<span class="i0">Canst thou a judge in any question be?</span> -<span class="i0">Atheists themselves would scorn a friend like thee.—</span> -<span class="i2">“Lo! yonder blaze thy worthies; in one heap</span> -<span class="i0">Thy scoundrel-favourites must for ever sleep: <span class="linenum">540</span></span> -<span class="i0">Each yields its poison to the flame in turn,</span> -<span class="i0">Where whores and infidels are doom’d to burn;</span> -<span class="i0">Two noble faggots made the flame you see,</span> -<span class="i0">Reserving only two fair twigs for thee;</span> -<span class="i0">That in thy view the instruments may stand,</span> -<span class="i0">And be in future ready for my hand:</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">[Pg 291]</a></span> -<span class="i0">The just mementos that, though silent, show</span> -<span class="i0">Whence thy correction and improvements flow;</span> -<span class="i0">Beholding these, thou wilt confess their power,</span> -<span class="i0">And feel the shame of this important hour. <span class="linenum">550</span></span> -<span class="i2">“Hadst thou been humble, I had first design’d</span> -<span class="i0">By care from folly to have freed thy mind;</span> -<span class="i0">And, when a clean foundation had been laid,</span> -<span class="i0">Our priest, more able, would have lent his aid.</span> -<span class="i0">But thou art weak, and force must folly guide,</span> -<span class="i0">And thou art vain, and pain must humble pride.</span> -<span class="i0">Teachers men honour, learners they allure;<span class="ws12">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">But learners teaching of contempt are sure;<span class="ws12">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Scorn is their certain meed, and smart their only cure!”  }</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">[Pg 292]</a></span> -</div></div> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">[Pg 293]</a></span></p> - -<hr class="chap" /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">[Pg 294]</a><br /> -<a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">[Pg 295]</a></span></p> -<h2>TALES OF THE HALL.</h2> - -<p class="f110"><i>TO HER GRACE<br /> THE DUCHESS OF RUTLAND</i></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Madam</span>,</p> - -<p>It is the privilege of those who are placed in that -elevated situation to which your Grace is an ornament, that they -give honour to the person upon whom they confer a favour. -When I dedicate to your Grace the fruits of many years, and -speak of my debt to the House of Rutland, I feel that I am not -without pride in the confession nor insensible to the honour -which such gratitude implies. Forty years have elapsed since -this debt commenced. On my entrance into the cares of life, -and while contending with its difficulties, a Duke and Duchess -of Rutland observed and protected me—in my progress a Duke -and Duchess of Rutland favoured and assisted me—and, when -I am retiring from the world, a Duke and Duchess of Rutland -receive my thanks, and accept my offering. All, even in this -world of mutability, is not change: I have experienced unvaried -favour—I have felt undiminished respect.</p> - -<p>With the most grateful remembrance of what I owe, and -the most sincere conviction of the little I can return, I present -these pages to your Grace’s acceptance, and beg leave to -subscribe myself,</p> - -<p class="author">May it please Your Grace,    <br /><br /> -With respect and gratitude,  <br /><br /> -Your Grace’s    <br /><br /> -Most obedient, humble,   <br /><br /> -And devoted servant,   <br /><br /> -GEORGE CRABBE.</p> - -<p> -<i>Trowbridge</i>,<br />   <i>June</i>, 1819. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">[Pg 296]</a></span></p> - -<h3>PREFACE.</h3> - -<p>If I did not fear that it would appear to my readers like -arrogancy, or if it did not seem to myself indecorous to send -two volumes of considerable magnitude from the press without -preface or apology, without one petition for the reader’s -attention, or one plea for the writer’s defects, I would most -willingly spare myself an address of this kind, and more -especially for these reasons: first, because a preface is a part of -a book seldom honoured by a reader’s perusal; secondly, because -it is both difficult and distressing to write that which we think -will be disregarded; and thirdly, because I do not conceive that -I am called upon for such introductory matter by any of the -motives which usually influence an author when he composes -his prefatory address.</p> - -<p>When a writer, whether of poetry or prose, first addresses -the public, he has generally something to offer which relates to -himself or to his work, and which he considers as a necessary -prelude to the work itself, to prepare his readers for the -entertainment or the instruction they may expect to receive; for one -of these every man who publishes must suppose he affords—this the -act itself implies, and in proportion to his conviction of this fact -must be his feeling of the difficulty in which he has placed himself: -the difficulty consists in reconciling the implied presumption of -the undertaking, whether to please or to instruct mankind, with the -diffidence and modesty of an untried candidate for fame or favour. -Hence originate the many reasons an author assigns for his appearance -in that character, whether they actually exist, or are merely offered -to hide the motives which cannot be openly avowed: namely, the want -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">[Pg 297]</a></span> -or the vanity of the man, as his wishes for profit or reputation may -most prevail with him.</p> - -<p>Now, reasons of this kind, whatever they may be, cannot -be availing beyond their first appearance. An author, it is true, -may again feel his former apprehensions, may again be elevated -or depressed by the suggestions of vanity and diffidence, and -may be again subject to the cold and hot fit of aguish expectation; -but he is no more a stranger to the press, nor has the -motives or privileges of one who is. With respect to myself, it -is certain they belong not to me. Many years have elapsed -since I became a candidate for indulgence as an inexperienced -writer; and to assume the language of such writer now, and to -plead for his indulgences, would be proof of my ignorance of -the place assigned to me, and the degree of favour which I have -experienced; but of that place I am not uninformed, and with -that degree of favour I have no reason to be dissatisfied.</p> - -<p>It was the remark of the pious, but on some occasions the -querulous, author of the <i>Night Thoughts</i>, that he had “been -so long remembered, he was forgotten”—an expression in which -there is more appearance of discontent than of submission: if he -had patience, it was not the patience that <i>smiles at grief</i>. -It is not therefore entirely in the sense of the good Doctor that -I apply these words to myself, or to my more early publications. -So many years indeed have passed since their first appearance, -that I have no reason to complain, on that account, if they be -now slumbering with other poems of decent reputation in their -day—not dead indeed, nor entirely forgotten, but certainly not -the subjects of discussion or conversation as when first introduced -to the notice of the public by those whom the public will not -forget, whose protection was credit to their author, and whose -approbation was fame to them. Still these early publications -had so long preceded any other, that, if not altogether unknown, -I was, when I came again before the public, in a situation -which excused, and perhaps rendered necessary, some explanation; -but this also has passed away, and none of my readers will now -take the trouble of making any inquiries respecting my motives -for writing or for publishing these Tales or verses of any -description. Known to each other as readers and authors are -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">[Pg 298]</a></span> -known, they will require no preface to bespeak their good will; -nor shall I be under the necessity of soliciting the kindness -which experience has taught me, endeavouring to merit, I shall -not fail to receive.</p> - -<p>There is one motive—and it is a powerful one—which -sometimes induces an author, and more particularly a poet, to -ask the attention of his readers to his prefatory address. This -is when he has some favourite and peculiar style or manner -which he would explain and defend, and chiefly if he should -have adopted a mode of versification of which an uninitiated -reader was not likely to perceive either the merit or the beauty. -In such case it is natural, and surely pardonable, to assert and -to prove, as far as reason will bear us on, that such method of -writing has both; to show in what the beauty consists, and -what peculiar difficulty there is, which, when conquered, creates -the merit. How far any particular poet has or has not succeeded -in such attempt is not my business nor my purpose to inquire: -I have no peculiar notion to defend, no poetical heterodoxy to -support, nor theory of any kind to vindicate or oppose—that -which I have used is probably the most common measure in -our language; and therefore, whatever be its advantages or -defects, they are too well known to require from me a description -of the one, or an apology for the other.</p> - -<p>Perhaps still more frequent than any explanation of the -work is an account of the author himself, the situation in which -he is placed, or some circumstances of peculiar kind in his life, -education, or employment. How often has youth been pleaded -for deficiencies or redundancies, for the existence of which youth -may be an excuse, and yet be none for their exposure. Age -too has been pleaded for the errors and failings in a work which -the octogenarian had the discernment to perceive, and yet had -not the fortitude to suppress. Many other circumstances are -made apologies for a writer’s infirmities: his much employment, -and many avocations, adversity, necessity, and the good of mankind. -These, or any of them, however availing in themselves, -avail not me. I am neither so young nor so old, so much -engaged by one pursuit, or by many—I am not so urged by -want, or so stimulated by a desire of public benefit—that I can -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">[Pg 299]</a></span> -borrow one apology from the many which I have named. How -far they prevail with our readers, or with our judges, I cannot -tell; and it is unnecessary for me to inquire into the validity of -arguments which I have not to produce.</p> - -<p>If there be any combination of circumstances which may be -supposed to affect the mind of a reader, and in some degree to -influence his judgment, the junction of youth, beauty, and merit -in a female writer may be allowed to do this; and yet one of -the most forbidding of titles is “Poems by a very young Lady”—and -this, although beauty and merit were largely insinuated. -Ladies, it is true, have of late little need of any indulgence as -authors, and names may readily be found which rather excite -the envy of man than plead for his lenity. Our estimation of -title also in a writer has materially varied from that of our -predecessors; “Poems by a Nobleman” would create a very -different sensation in our minds from that which was formerly -excited when they were so announced. A noble author had -then no pretensions to a seat so secure on the “sacred hill,” -that authors not noble, and critics not gentle, dared not attack; -and they delighted to take revenge, by their contempt and -derision of the poet, for the pain which their submission and -respect to the man had cost them. But in our times we find -that a nobleman writes, not merely as well, but better than -other men: insomuch that readers in general begin to fancy -that the Muses have relinquished their old partiality for rags and -a garret, and are become altogether aristocratical in their choice. -A conceit so well supported by fact would be readily admitted, -did it not appear at the same time, that there were in the -higher ranks of society men who could write as tamely, or as -absurdly, as they had ever been accused of doing. We may, -therefore, regard the works of any noble author as extraordinary -productions, but must not found any theory upon them; and, -notwithstanding their appearance, must look on genius and talent -as we are wont to do on time and chance, that happen indifferently -to all mankind.</p> - -<p>But, whatever influence any peculiar situation of a writer -might have, it cannot be a benefit to me, who have no such -peculiarity. I must rely upon the willingness of my readers to -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">[Pg 300]</a></span> -be pleased with that which was designed to give them pleasure, -and upon the cordiality which naturally springs from a remembrance -of our having before parted without any feelings of -disgust on the one side, or of mortification on the other.</p> - -<p>With this hope I would conclude the present subject; but -I am called upon by duty to acknowledge my obligations, and -more especially for two of the following Tales—the Story of -Lady Barbara, in Book XVI; and that of Ellen in Book XVIII. -The first of these I owe to the kindness of a fair friend, who -will, I hope, accept the thanks which I very gratefully pay, and -pardon me if I have not given to her relation the advantages -which she had so much reason to expect. The other story, -that of Ellen, could I give it in the language of him who -related it to me, would please and affect my readers. It is by -no means my only debt, though the one I now more particularly -acknowledge; for who shall describe all that he gains in the -social, the unrestrained, and the frequent conversations with a -friend, who is at once communicative and judicious—whose -opinions, on all subjects of literary kind, are founded on good -taste, and exquisite feeling? It is one of the greatest “pleasures -of my memory” to recal in absence those -conversations; and, if I do not in direct terms mention with whom I -conversed, it is both because I have no permission, and my readers -will have no doubt.</p> - -<p>The first intention of the poet must be to please; for, if he -means to instruct, he must render the instruction which he -hopes to convey palatable and pleasant. I will not assume the -tone of a moralist, nor promise that my relations shall be -beneficial to mankind; but I have endeavoured, not unsuccessfully -I trust, that, in whatsoever I have related or described, there -should be nothing introduced which has a tendency to excuse -the vices of man by associating with them sentiments that -demand our respect, and talents that compel our admiration. -There is nothing in these pages which has the mischievous -effect of confounding truth and error, or confusing our ideas of -right and wrong. I know not which is most injurious to the -yielding minds of the young—to render virtue less respectable by -making its possessors ridiculous, or by describing vice with so -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301">[Pg 301]</a></span> -many fascinating qualities, that it is either lost in the assemblage, -or pardoned by the association. Man’s heart is sufficiently -prone to make excuse for man’s infirmity, and needs not the -aid of poetry, or eloquence, to take from vice its native deformity. -A character may be respectable with all its faults, but it must -not be made respectable by them. It is grievous when genius -will condescend to place strong and evil spirits in a commanding -view, or excite our pity and admiration for men of talents, -degraded by crime, when struggling with misfortune. It is but -too true that great and wicked men may be so presented to us -as to demand our applause, when they should excite our -abhorrence; but it is surely for the interest of mankind, and -our own self-direction, that we should ever keep at unapproachable -distance our respect and our reproach.</p> - -<p>I have one observation more to offer. It may appear to -some that a minister of religion, in the decline of life, should -have no leisure for such amusements as these; and for them I -have no reply. But to those who are more indulgent to the -propensities, the studies, and the habits of mankind, I offer some -apology when I produce these volumes, not as the occupations -of my life, but the fruits of my leisure—the employment of that -time which, if not given to them, had passed in the vacuity of -unrecorded idleness, or had been lost in the indulgence of -unregistered thoughts and fancies, that melt away in the instant -they are conceived, and “<i>leave not a wreck behind</i>.” -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302">[Pg 302]</a></span></p> - -<hr class="chap" /> -<p class="f150 break"><b>TALES OF THE HALL.</b></p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h3>BOOK I.</h3> -<p class="f110"><i>THE HALL.</i></p> -</div> - -<p class="blockquot"> -The Meeting of the Brothers, George and Richard—The Retirement of -the elder to his native Village—Objects and Persons whom he found -there—The Brother described in various Particulars—The Invitation -and Journey of the younger—His Soliloquy and Arrival. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303">[Pg 303]</a></span></p> - -<p class="f150 break space-above2"><b>TALES OF THE HALL.</b></p> -<p class="f120"><b>BOOK I.</b></p> -<p class="f110"><i>THE HALL.</i></p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poem2"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The Brothers met who many a year had past</span> -<span class="i0">Since their last meeting, and that seem’d their last;</span> -<span class="i0">They had no parent then or common friend</span> -<span class="i0">Who might their hearts to mutual kindness bend;</span> -<span class="i0">Who, touching both in their divided state,</span> -<span class="i0">Might generous thoughts and warm desires create;</span> -<span class="i0">For there are minds whom we must first excite</span> -<span class="i0">And urge to feeling, ere they can unite;</span> -<span class="i0">As we may hard and stubborn metals beat</span> -<span class="i0">And blend together, if we duly heat. <span class="linenum">10</span></span> -<span class="i2">The elder, George, had past his threescore years,</span> -<span class="i0">A busy actor, sway’d by hopes and fears</span> -<span class="i0">Of powerful kind; and he had fill’d the parts</span> -<span class="i0">That try our strength and agitate our hearts.</span> -<span class="i0">He married not, and yet he well approved</span> -<span class="i0">The social state; but then he rashly loved;</span> -<span class="i0">Gave to a strong delusion all his youth,</span> -<span class="i0">Led by a vision till alarm’d by truth.</span> -<span class="i0">That vision past, and of that truth possest,</span> -<span class="i0">His passions wearied and disposed to rest, <span class="linenum">20</span></span> -<span class="i0">George yet had will and power a place to choose,</span> -<span class="i0">Where Hope might sleep, and terminate her views.</span> -<span class="i0">He chose his native village, and the hill</span> -<span class="i0">He climb’d a boy had its attraction still;</span> -<span class="i0">With that small brook beneath, where he would stand,</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304">[Pg 304]</a></span> -<span class="i0">And stooping fill the hollow of his hand,</span> -<span class="i0">To quench th’ impatient thirst—then stop awhile</span> -<span class="i0">To see the sun upon the waters smile,</span> -<span class="i0">In that sweet weariness when, long denied,</span> -<span class="i0">We drink and view the fountain that supplied <span class="linenum">30</span></span> -<span class="i0">The sparkling bliss—and feel, if not express,</span> -<span class="i0">Our perfect ease in that sweet weariness.</span> -<span class="i2">The oaks yet flourish’d in that fertile ground,</span> -<span class="i0">Where still the church with lofty tower was found;</span> -<span class="i0">And still that Hall, a first, a favourite view,</span> -<span class="i0">But not the elms that form’d its avenue;</span> -<span class="i0">They fell ere George arrived, or yet had stood,</span> -<span class="i0">For he in reverence held the living wood,</span> -<span class="i0">That widely spreads in earth the deepening root,</span> -<span class="i0">And lifts to heaven the still aspiring shoot; <span class="linenum">40</span></span> -<span class="i0">From age to age they fill’d a growing space,</span> -<span class="i0">But hid the mansion they were meant to grace.</span> -<span class="i2">It was an ancient, venerable hall,</span> -<span class="i0">And once surrounded by a moat and wall;</span> -<span class="i0">A part was added by a squire of taste,</span> -<span class="i0">Who, while unvalued acres ran to waste,</span> -<span class="i0">Made spacious rooms, whence he could look about,</span> -<span class="i0">And mark improvements as they rose without:</span> -<span class="i0">He fill’d the moat, he took the wall away,</span> -<span class="i0">He thinn’d the park, and bade the view be gay. <span class="linenum">50</span></span> -<span class="i0">The scene was rich, but he who should behold</span> -<span class="i0">Its worth was poor, and so the whole was sold.</span> -<span class="i2">Just then our merchant from his desk retired,</span> -<span class="i0">And made the purchase that his heart desired—</span> -<span class="i0">The Hall of Binning, his delight a boy,</span> -<span class="i0">That gave his fancy in her flight employ.</span> -<span class="i0">Here, from his father’s modest home, he gazed,</span> -<span class="i0">Its grandeur charm’d him, and its height amazed,</span> -<span class="i0">Work of past ages; and the brick-built place</span> -<span class="i0">Where he resided was in much disgrace; <span class="linenum">60</span></span> -<span class="i0">But never in his fancy’s proudest dream</span> -<span class="i0">Did he the master of that mansion seem.</span> -<span class="i0">Young was he then, and little did he know</span> -<span class="i0">What years on care and diligence bestow;</span> -<span class="i0">Now, young no more, retired to views well known,</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305">[Pg 305]</a></span> -<span class="i0">He finds that object of his awe his own:</span> -<span class="i0">The Hall at Binning!—how he loves the gloom</span> -<span class="i0">That sun-excluding window gives the room;</span> -<span class="i0">Those broad brown stairs on which he loves to tread;</span> -<span class="i0">Those beams within; without, that length of lead, <span class="linenum">70</span></span> -<span class="i0">On which the names of wanton boys appear,</span> -<span class="i0">Who died old men, and left memorials here—</span> -<span class="i0">Carvings of feet and hands, and knots and flowers,</span> -<span class="i0">The fruits of busy minds in idle hours.</span> -<span class="i2">Here, while our squire the modern part possess’d,<span class="ws8">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">His partial eye upon the old would rest;<span class="ws18">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">That best his comforts gave—this sooth’d his feelings best. }</span> -<span class="i2">Here, day by day, withdrawn from busy life,</span> -<span class="i0">No child t’ awake him, to engage no wife,</span> -<span class="i0">When friends were absent, not to books inclined, <span class="linenum">80</span></span> -<span class="i0">He found a sadness steal upon his mind;</span> -<span class="i0">Sighing the works of former lords to see,</span> -<span class="i0">“I follow them,” he cried, “but who will follow me?”</span> -<span class="i2">Some ancient men whom he a boy had known</span> -<span class="i0">He knew again; their changes were his own.</span> -<span class="i0">Comparing now he view’d them, and he felt</span> -<span class="i0">That time with him in lenient mood had dealt;</span> -<span class="i0">While some the half-distinguish’d features bore <span class="ws9">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">That he was doubtful if he saw before,<span class="ws17">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">And some in memory lived, whom he must see no more.  }<span class="linenum">90</span></span> -<span class="i2">Here George had found, yet scarcely hoped to find,</span> -<span class="i0">Companions meet, minds fitted to his mind;</span> -<span class="i0">Here, late and loth, the worthy rector came,</span> -<span class="i0">From college dinners and a fellow’s fame;</span> -<span class="i0">Yet, here when fix’d, was happy to behold</span> -<span class="i0">So near a neighbour in a friend so old.</span> -<span class="i0">Boys on one form they parted, now to meet</span> -<span class="i0">In equal state, their worships on one seat.</span> -<span class="i2">Here were a sister-pair, who seem’d to live</span> -<span class="i0">With more respect than affluence can give; <span class="linenum">100</span></span> -<span class="i0">Although not affluent, they, by nature graced,</span> -<span class="i0">Had sense and virtue, dignity and taste;</span> -<span class="i0">Their minds by sorrows, by misfortunes tried,</span> -<span class="i0">Were vex’d and heal’d, were pain’d and purified.</span> -<span class="i2">Hither a sage physician came, and plann’d,</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306">[Pg 306]</a></span> -<span class="i0">With books his guides, improvements on his land;</span> -<span class="i0">Nor less to mind than matter would he give</span> -<span class="i0">His noble thoughts, to know how spirits live,</span> -<span class="i0">And what is spirit; him his friends advised</span> -<span class="i0">To think with fear; but caution he despised; <span class="linenum">110</span></span> -<span class="i0">And hints of fear provoked him till he dared</span> -<span class="i0">Beyond himself, nor bold assertion spared,</span> -<span class="i0">But fiercely spoke, like those who strongly feel,</span> -<span class="i0">“Priests and their craft, enthusiasts and their zeal.”</span> -<span class="i2">More yet appear’d, of whom as we proceed—</span> -<span class="i0">Ah! yield not yet to languor—you shall read.</span> -<span class="i2">But ere the events that from this meeting rose,</span> -<span class="i0">Be they of pain or pleasure, we disclose,</span> -<span class="i0">It is of custom, doubtless is of use,</span> -<span class="i0">That we our heroes first should introduce. <span class="linenum">120</span></span> -<span class="i0">Come, then, fair Truth! and let me clearly see</span> -<span class="i0">The minds I paint, as they are seen in thee;</span> -<span class="i0">To me their merits and their faults impart;<span class="ws7">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Give me to say, “frail being! such thou art,” <span class="ws5">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">And closely let me view the naked human heart. }</span> -<span class="i2"><span class="smcap">George</span> loved to think; but, as he late began</span> -<span class="i0">To muse on all the grander thoughts of man,</span> -<span class="i0">He took a solemn and a serious view</span> -<span class="i0">Of his religion, and he found it true;</span> -<span class="i0">Firmly, yet meekly, he his mind applied <span class="linenum">130</span></span> -<span class="i0">To this great subject, and was satisfied.</span> -<span class="i2">He then proceeded, not so much intent,</span> -<span class="i0">But still in earnest, and to church he went.</span> -<span class="i0">Although they found some difference in their creed,</span> -<span class="i0">He and his pastor cordially agreed,</span> -<span class="i0">Convinced that they who would the truth obtain</span> -<span class="i0">By disputation, find their efforts vain;</span> -<span class="i0">The church he view’d as liberal minds will view,</span> -<span class="i0">And there he fix’d his principles and pew.</span> -<span class="i2">He saw—he thought he saw—how weakness, pride, <span class="linenum">140</span></span> -<span class="i0">And habit, draw seceding crowds aside:</span> -<span class="i0">Weakness, that loves on trifling points to dwell;</span> -<span class="i0">Pride, that at first from Heaven’s own worship fell;</span> -<span class="i0">And habit, going where it went before,</span> -<span class="i0">Or to the meeting or the tavern door.</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_307" id="Page_307">[Pg 307]</a></span> -<span class="i2">George loved the cause of freedom, but reproved</span> -<span class="i0">All who with wild and boyish ardour loved:</span> -<span class="i0">Those who believed they never could be free,</span> -<span class="i0">Except when fighting for their liberty;</span> -<span class="i0">Who by their very clamour and complaint <span class="linenum">150</span></span> -<span class="i0">Invite coercion or enforce restraint.</span> -<span class="i0">He thought a trust so great, so good a cause,</span> -<span class="i0">Was only to be kept by guarding laws;</span> -<span class="i0">For, public blessings firmly to secure,</span> -<span class="i0">We must a lessening of the good endure.</span> -<span class="i0">The public waters are to none denied;</span> -<span class="i0">All drink the stream, but only few must guide.</span> -<span class="i0">There must be reservoirs to hold supply,</span> -<span class="i0">And channels form’d to send the blessing by;</span> -<span class="i0">The public good must be a private care; <span class="linenum">160</span></span> -<span class="i0">None all they would may have, but all a share.</span> -<span class="i0">So we must freedom with restraint enjoy;</span> -<span class="i0">What crowds possess they will, uncheck’d, destroy;</span> -<span class="i0">And hence, that freedom may to all be dealt,</span> -<span class="i0">Guards must be fix’d, and safety must be felt.</span> -<span class="i2">So thought our squire, nor wish’d the guards t’ appear</span> -<span class="i0">So strong, that safety might be bought too dear;</span> -<span class="i0">The constitution was the ark that he</span> -<span class="i0">Join’d to support with zeal and sanctity;</span> -<span class="i0">Nor would expose it, as th’ accursed son <span class="linenum">170</span></span> -<span class="i0">His father’s weakness, to be gazed upon.</span> -<span class="i2">“I for that freedom make,” said he, “my prayer,</span> -<span class="i0">That suits with all, like atmospheric air;</span> -<span class="i0">That is to mortal man by heaven assign’d,</span> -<span class="i0">Who cannot bear a pure and perfect kind.</span> -<span class="i0">The lighter gas, that, taken in the frame,</span> -<span class="i0">The spirit heats, and sets the blood in flame:</span> -<span class="i0">Such is the freedom which when men approve,</span> -<span class="i0">They know not what a dangerous thing they love.”</span> -<span class="i2">George chose the company of men of sense, <span class="linenum">180</span></span> -<span class="i0">But could with wit in moderate share dispense;</span> -<span class="i0">He wish’d in social ease his friends to meet,</span> -<span class="i0">When still he thought the female accent sweet;</span> -<span class="i0">Well from the ancient, better from the young,</span> -<span class="i0">He loved the lispings of the mother tongue.</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_308" id="Page_308">[Pg 308]</a></span> -<span class="i2">He ate and drank, as much as men who think</span> -<span class="i0">Of life’s best pleasures, ought to eat or drink;</span> -<span class="i0">Men purely temperate might have taken less,</span> -<span class="i0">But still he loved indulgence, not excess;</span> -<span class="i0">Nor would alone the grants of fortune taste, <span class="linenum">190</span></span> -<span class="i0">But shared the wealth he judged it crime to waste;</span> -<span class="i0">And thus obtained the sure reward of care—</span> -<span class="i0">For none can spend like him who learns to spare.</span> -<span class="i2">Time, thought, and trouble made the man appear—</span> -<span class="i0">By nature shrewd—sarcastic and severe;</span> -<span class="i0">Still, he was one whom those who fully knew</span> -<span class="i0">Esteem’d and trusted, one correct and true;</span> -<span class="i0">All on his word with surety might depend,</span> -<span class="i0">Kind as a man, and faithful as a friend.</span> -<span class="i0">But him the many [knew] not, knew not cause <span class="linenum">200</span></span> -<span class="i0">In their new squire for censure or applause;</span> -<span class="i0">Ask them, “Who dwelt within that lofty wall?”</span> -<span class="i0">And they would say, “the gentleman was tall;</span> -<span class="i0">Look’d old when follow’d, but alert when met,</span> -<span class="i0">And had some vigour in his movements yet;</span> -<span class="i0">He stoops, but not as one infirm; and wears</span> -<span class="i0">Dress that becomes his station and his years.”</span> -<span class="i2">Such was the man who from the world return’d</span> -<span class="i0">Nor friend nor foe; he prized it not, nor spurn’d;</span> -<span class="i0">But came and sat him in his village down, <span class="linenum">210</span></span> -<span class="i0">Safe from its smile, and careless of its frown:</span> -<span class="i0">He, fairly looking into life’s account,</span> -<span class="i0">Saw frowns and favours were of like amount;</span> -<span class="i0">And viewing all—his perils, prospects, purse—</span> -<span class="i0">He said, “Content! ’tis well it is no worse.”</span> -<span class="i2">Through ways more rough had fortune <span class="smcap">Richard</span> led,</span> -<span class="i0">The world he traversed was the book he read;</span> -<span class="i0">Hence clashing notions and opinions strange</span> -<span class="i0">Lodged in his mind: all liable to change.</span> -<span class="i2">By nature generous, open, daring, free, <span class="linenum">220</span></span> -<span class="i0">The vice he hated was hypocrisy.</span> -<span class="i0">Religious notions, in her latter years,</span> -<span class="i0">His mother gave, admonish’d by her fears;</span> -<span class="i0">To these he added, as he chanced to read</span> -<span class="i0">A pious work or learn a christian creed.</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_309" id="Page_309">[Pg 309]</a></span> -<span class="i0">He heard the preacher by the highway side,</span> -<span class="i0">The church’s teacher, and the meeting’s guide;</span> -<span class="i0">And, mixing all their matters in his brain,</span> -<span class="i0">Distill’d a something he could ill explain;</span> -<span class="i0">But still it served him for his daily use, <span class="linenum">230</span></span> -<span class="i0">And kept his lively passions from abuse;</span> -<span class="i0">For he believed, and held in reverence high,</span> -<span class="i0">The truth so dear to man—“not all shall die.”</span> -<span class="i0">The minor portions of his creed hung loose,</span> -<span class="i0">For time to shapen and an whole produce;</span> -<span class="i0">This love effected, and a favourite maid</span> -<span class="i0">With clearer views his honest flame repaid;</span> -<span class="i0">Hers was the thought correct, the hope sublime,</span> -<span class="i0">She shaped his creed, and did the work of time.</span> -<span class="i2">He spake of freedom as a nation’s cause, <span class="linenum">240</span></span> -<span class="i0">And loved, like George, our liberty and laws;</span> -<span class="i0">But had more youthful ardour to be free,</span> -<span class="i0">And stronger fears for injured liberty.</span> -<span class="i0">With him, on various questions that arose,</span> -<span class="i0">The monarch’s servants were the people’s foes;</span> -<span class="i0">And, though he fought with all a Briton’s zeal,</span> -<span class="i0">He felt for France as Freedom’s children feel;</span> -<span class="i0">Went far with her in what she thought reform,</span> -<span class="i0">And hail’d the revolutionary storm;</span> -<span class="i0">Yet would not here, where there was least to win, <span class="linenum">250</span></span> -<span class="i0">And most to lose, the doubtful work begin;</span> -<span class="i0">But look’d on change with some religious fear,</span> -<span class="i0">And cried, with filial dread, “Ah! come not here.”</span> -<span class="i2">His friends he did not as the thoughtful choose;</span> -<span class="i0">Long to deliberate was, he judged, to lose;</span> -<span class="i0">Frankly he join’d the free, nor suffered pride</span> -<span class="i0">Or doubt to part them, whom their fate allied;</span> -<span class="i0">Men with such minds at once each other aid;<span class="ws6">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">“Frankness,” they cry, “with frankness is repaid;   }</span> -<span class="i0">If honest, why suspect? if poor, of what afraid?<span class="ws4">}</span><span class="linenum">260</span></span> -<span class="i0">Wealth’s timid votaries may with caution move;</span> -<span class="i0">Be it our wisdom to confide and love.”</span> -<span class="i2">So pleasures came, (not purchased first or plann’d)</span> -<span class="i0">But the chance pleasures that the poor command;</span> -<span class="i0">They came but seldom, they remain’d not long,</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_310" id="Page_310">[Pg 310]</a></span> -<span class="i0">Nor gave him time to question “are they wrong?”</span> -<span class="i0">These he enjoy’d, and left to after time</span> -<span class="i0">To judge the folly or decide the crime;</span> -<span class="i0">Sure had he been, he had perhaps been pure</span> -<span class="i0">From this reproach—but Richard was not sure— <span class="linenum">270</span></span> -<span class="i0">Yet from the sordid vice, the mean, the base,</span> -<span class="i0">He stood aloof—death frown’d not like disgrace.</span> -<span class="i2">With handsome figure, and with manly air,</span> -<span class="i0">He pleased the sex, who all to him were fair;</span> -<span class="i0">With filial love he look’d on forms decay’d,</span> -<span class="i0">And admiration’s debt to beauty paid;</span> -<span class="i0">On sea or land, wherever Richard went,</span> -<span class="i0">He felt affection, and he found content;</span> -<span class="i0">There was in him a strong presiding hope</span> -<span class="i0">In fortune’s tempests, and it bore him up. <span class="linenum">280</span></span> -<span class="i0">But when that mystic vine his mansion graced,</span> -<span class="i0">When numerous branches round his board were placed,</span> -<span class="i0">When sighs of apprehensive love were heard—</span> -<span class="i0">Then first the spirit of the hero fear’d;</span> -<span class="i0">Then he reflected on the father’s part,</span> -<span class="i0">And all an husband’s sorrow touch’d his heart;</span> -<span class="i0">Then thought he, “Who will their assistance lend?</span> -<span class="i0">And be the children’s guide, the parent’s friend?</span> -<span class="i0">Who shall their guardian, their protector be?</span> -<span class="i0">I have a brother—Well!—and so has he.” <span class="linenum">290</span></span> -<span class="i2">And now they met; a message—kind, ’tis true,</span> -<span class="i0">But verbal only—ask’d an interview;</span> -<span class="i0">And many a mile, perplex’d by doubt and fear,</span> -<span class="i0">Had Richard past, unwilling to appear—</span> -<span class="i0">“How shall I now my unknown way explore,</span> -<span class="i0">He proud and rich—I very proud and poor?</span> -<span class="i0">Perhaps my friend a dubious speech mistook,</span> -<span class="i0">And George may meet me with a stranger’s look;</span> -<span class="i0">Then to my home when I return again, <span class="ws16">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">How shall I bear this business to explain, <span class="ws14">}</span><span class="linenum">300</span></span> -<span class="i0">And tell of hopes raised high, and feelings hurt, in vain?  }</span> -<span class="i2">“How stands the case? My brother’s friend and mine</span> -<span class="i0">Met at an inn, and sat them down to dine:</span> -<span class="i0">When, having settled all their own affairs,</span> -<span class="i0">And kindly canvass’d such as were not theirs,</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_311" id="Page_311">[Pg 311]</a></span> -<span class="i0">Just as my friend was going to retire—</span> -<span class="i0">‘Stay!—you will see the brother of our squire,’</span> -<span class="i0">Said his companion; ‘be his friend, and tell</span> -<span class="i0">The captain that his brother loves him well,</span> -<span class="i0">And, when he has no better thing in view, <span class="linenum">310</span></span> -<span class="i0">Will be rejoiced to see him. Now, adieu!’</span> -<span class="i2">Well! here I am; and, brother, take you heed,</span> -<span class="i0">I am not come to flatter you and feed;</span> -<span class="i0">You shall no soother, fawner, hearer find,</span> -<span class="i0">I will not brush your coat, nor smooth your mind;</span> -<span class="i0">I will not hear your tales the whole day long,</span> -<span class="i0">Nor swear you’re right if I believe you wrong.</span> -<span class="i0">Nor be a witness of the facts you state,</span> -<span class="i0">Nor as my own adopt your love or hate:</span> -<span class="i0">I will not earn my dinner when I dine, <span class="linenum">320</span></span> -<span class="i0">By taking all your sentiments for mine;</span> -<span class="i0">Nor watch the guiding motions of your eye,</span> -<span class="i0">Before I venture question or reply;</span> -<span class="i0">Nor when you speak affect an awe profound,</span> -<span class="i0">Sinking my voice, as if I fear’d the sound;</span> -<span class="i0">Nor to your looks obediently attend,</span> -<span class="i0">The poor, the humble, the dependant friend;</span> -<span class="i0">Yet, son of that dear mother could I meet—</span> -<span class="i0">But lo! the mansion—’tis a fine old seat!”</span> -<span class="i2">The Brothers met, with both too much at heart <span class="linenum">330</span></span> -<span class="i0">To be observant of each other’s part.</span> -<span class="i0">“Brother, I’m glad,” was all that George could say,</span> -<span class="i0">Then stretch’d his hand, and turn’d his head away;</span> -<span class="i0">For he in tender tears had no delight,</span> -<span class="i0">But scorn’d the thought, and ridiculed the sight;</span> -<span class="i0">Yet now with pleasure, though with some surprise,</span> -<span class="i0">He felt his heart o’erflowing at his eyes.</span> -<span class="i2">Richard, mean time, made some attempts to speak,</span> -<span class="i0">Strong in his purpose, in his trial weak;</span> -<span class="i0">We cannot nature by our wishes rule, <span class="linenum">340</span></span> -<span class="i0">Nor at our will her warm emotions cool;—</span> -<span class="i0">At length affection, like a risen tide,</span> -<span class="i0">Stood still, and then seem’d slowly to subside;</span> -<span class="i0">Each on the other’s looks had power to dwell,</span> -<span class="i0">And Brother Brother greeted passing well.</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_312" id="Page_312">[Pg 312]</a></span> -</div></div></div> - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> -<p class="f150"><b>TALES OF THE HALL.</b></p> -<h3>BOOK II.</h3> -<p class="f110"><i>THE BROTHERS.</i></p> -</div> - -<p class="blockquot"> -Further Account of the Meeting—Of the Men—The Mother—The -Uncle—The private Tutor—The second Husband—Dinner Conversation— -School of the Rector and Squire—The Master. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_313" id="Page_313">[Pg 313]</a></span></p> - -<p class="f150 break space-above2"><b>TALES OF THE HALL.</b></p> -<p class="f120"><b>BOOK II.</b></p> -<p class="f110"><i>THE BROTHERS.</i></p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poem2"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">At length the Brothers met, no longer tried</span> -<span class="i0">By those strong feelings that in time subside;</span> -<span class="i0">Not fluent yet their language, but the eye</span> -<span class="i0">And action spoke both question and reply;</span> -<span class="i0">Till the heart rested, and could calmly feel;</span> -<span class="i0">Till the shook compass felt the settling steel;</span> -<span class="i0">Till playful smiles on graver converse broke,</span> -<span class="i0">And either speaker less abruptly spoke.</span> -<span class="i0">Still was there oft-times silence, silence blest,</span> -<span class="i0">Expressive, thoughtful—their emotions’ rest: <span class="linenum">10</span></span> -<span class="i0">Pauses that came not from a want of thought,</span> -<span class="i0">But want of ease, by wearied passion sought;</span> -<span class="i0">For souls, when hurried by such powerful force,</span> -<span class="i0">Rest, and retrace the pleasure of the course.</span> -<span class="i0">They differ’d much; yet might observers trace</span> -<span class="i0">Likeness of features both in mind and face;</span> -<span class="i0">Pride they possess’d, that neither strove to hide,</span> -<span class="i0">But not offensive, not obtrusive pride.</span> -<span class="i0">Unlike had been their life, unlike the fruits</span> -<span class="i0">Of different tempers, studies, and pursuits; <span class="linenum">20</span></span> -<span class="i0">Nay, in such varying scenes the men had moved,</span> -<span class="i0">’Twas passing strange that aught alike they loved.</span> -<span class="i0">But all distinction now was thrown apart,</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_314" id="Page_314">[Pg 314]</a></span> -<span class="i0">While these strong feelings ruled in either heart.</span> -<span class="i0">As various colours in a painted ball,</span> -<span class="i0">While it has rest, are seen distinctly all,</span> -<span class="i0">Till, whirl’d around by some exterior force,</span> -<span class="i0">They all are blended in the rapid course:</span> -<span class="i0">So in repose, and not by passion sway’d,</span> -<span class="i0">We saw the difference by their habits made; <span class="linenum">30</span></span> -<span class="i0">But, tried by strong emotions, they became</span> -<span class="i0">Fill’d with one love, and were in heart the same;</span> -<span class="i0">Joy to the face its own expression sent,</span> -<span class="i0">And gave a likeness in the looks it lent.</span> -<span class="i2">All now was sober certainty; the joy</span> -<span class="i0">That no strong passions swell till they destroy:</span> -<span class="i0">For they, like wine, our pleasures raise so high,</span> -<span class="i0">That they subdue our strength, and then they die.</span> -<span class="i0">George in his brother felt a glowing pride,</span> -<span class="i0">He wonder’d who that fertile mind supplied— <span class="linenum">40</span></span> -<span class="i0">“Where could the wanderer gather on his road</span> -<span class="i0">Knowledge so various? how the mind this food?</span> -<span class="i0">No college train’d him, guideless through his life,</span> -<span class="i0">Without a friend—not so! he has a wife.</span> -<span class="i0">Ah! had I married, I might now have seen</span> -<span class="i0">My——No! it never, never could have been,</span> -<span class="i0">That long enchantment, that pernicious state!—</span> -<span class="i0">True, I recover’d, but alas! too late—</span> -<span class="i0">And here is Richard, poor indeed—but—nay!</span> -<span class="i0">This is self-torment—foolish thoughts, away!” <span class="linenum">50</span></span> -<span class="i2">Ease leads to habit, as success to ease,</span> -<span class="i0">He lives by rule who lives himself to please;</span> -<span class="i0">For change is trouble, and a man of wealth</span> -<span class="i0">Consults his quiet as he guards his health;</span> -<span class="i0">And habit now on George had sovereign power,</span> -<span class="i0">His actions all had their accustom’d hour:</span> -<span class="i0">At the fix’d time he slept, he walk’d, he read,</span> -<span class="i0">Or sought his grounds, his gruel, and his bed;</span> -<span class="i0">For every season he with caution dress’d,</span> -<span class="i0">And morn and eve had the appropriate vest; <span class="linenum">60</span></span> -<span class="i0">He talk’d of early mists, and night’s cold air,</span> -<span class="i0">And in one spot was fix’d his worship’s chair.</span> -<span class="i2">But not a custom yet on Richard’s mind</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_315" id="Page_315">[Pg 315]</a></span> -<span class="i0">Had force, or him to certain modes confined;</span> -<span class="i0">To him no joy such frequent visits paid</span> -<span class="i0">That habit by its beaten track was made;</span> -<span class="i0">He was not one who at his ease could say,</span> -<span class="i0">“We’ll live to-morrow as we lived to-day;”</span> -<span class="i0">But he and his were as the ravens fed,</span> -<span class="i0">As the day came it brought the daily bread. <span class="linenum">70</span></span> -<span class="i2">George, born to fortune, though of moderate kind,</span> -<span class="i0">Was not in haste his road through life to find.</span> -<span class="i0">His father early lost, his mother tried<span class="ws18">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">To live without him, liked it not, and—sigh’d,<span class="ws10"> }</span></span> -<span class="i0">When, for her widow’d hand, an amorous youth applied. }</span> -<span class="i0">She still was young, and felt that she could share</span> -<span class="i0">A lover’s passion, and an husband’s care;</span> -<span class="i0">Yet past twelve years before her son was told,</span> -<span class="i0">To his surprise, “your father you behold.”</span> -<span class="i0">But he beheld not with his mother’s eye <span class="linenum">80</span></span> -<span class="i0">The new relation, and would not comply,</span> -<span class="i0">But all obedience, all connexion spurn’d,</span> -<span class="i0">And fled their home, where he no more return’d.</span> -<span class="i0">His father’s brother was a man whose mind</span> -<span class="i0">Was to his business and his bank confined;</span> -<span class="i0">His guardian care the captious nephew sought,</span> -<span class="i0">And was received, caress’d, advised, and taught.</span> -<span class="i2">“That Irish beggar, whom your mother took,</span> -<span class="i0">Does you this good, he sends you to your book;</span> -<span class="i0">Yet love not books beyond their proper worth, <span class="linenum">90</span></span> -<span class="i0">But, when they fit you for the world, go forth:</span> -<span class="i0">They are like beauties, and may blessings prove,</span> -<span class="i0">When we with caution study them, or love;</span> -<span class="i0">But, when to either we our souls devote,</span> -<span class="i0">We grow unfitted for that world, and dote.”</span> -<span class="i2">George to a school of higher class was sent,</span> -<span class="i0">But he was ever grieving that he went:</span> -<span class="i0">A still, retiring, musing, dreaming boy,</span> -<span class="i0">He relish’d not their sudden bursts of joy;</span> -<span class="i0">Nor the tumultuous pleasures of a rude, <span class="linenum">100</span></span> -<span class="i0">A noisy, careless, fearless multitude.</span> -<span class="i0">He had his own delights, as one who flies</span> -<span class="i0">From every pleasure that a crowd supplies;</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_316" id="Page_316">[Pg 316]</a></span> -<span class="i0">Thrice he return’d, but then was weary grown,</span> -<span class="i0">And was indulged with studies of his own.</span> -<span class="i2">Still could the rector and his friend relate</span> -<span class="i0">The small adventures of that distant date;</span> -<span class="i0">And Richard listen’d as they spake of time</span> -<span class="i0">Past in that world of misery and crime.</span> -<span class="i2">Freed from his school, a priest of gentle kind <span class="linenum">110</span></span> -<span class="i0">The uncle found to guide the nephew’s mind;</span> -<span class="i0">Pleased with his teacher, George so long remain’d,</span> -<span class="i0">The mind was weaken’d by the store it gain’d.</span> -<span class="i2">His guardian uncle, then on foreign ground,</span> -<span class="i0">No time to think of his improvements found;</span> -<span class="i0">Nor had the nephew, now to manhood grown,</span> -<span class="i0">Talents or taste for trade or commerce shown,</span> -<span class="i0">But shunn’d a world of which he little knew,</span> -<span class="i0">Nor of that little did he like the view.</span> -<span class="i2">His mother chose, nor I the choice upbraid, <span class="linenum">120</span></span> -<span class="i0">An Irish soldier of an house decay’d,</span> -<span class="i0">And passing poor; but, precious in her eyes</span> -<span class="i0">As she in his, they both obtain’d a prize.</span> -<span class="i0">To do the captain justice, she might share</span> -<span class="i0">What of her jointure his affairs could spare;</span> -<span class="i0">Irish he was in his profusion—true,</span> -<span class="i0">But he was Irish in affection too;</span> -<span class="i0">And, though he spent her wealth and made her grieve,</span> -<span class="i0">He always said “my dear” and “with your leave.”</span> -<span class="i0">Him she survived; she saw his boy possess’d <span class="linenum">130</span></span> -<span class="i0">Of manly spirit, and then sank to rest.</span> -<span class="i2">Her sons thus left, some legal cause required</span> -<span class="i0">That they should meet, but neither this desired.</span> -<span class="i0">George, a recluse, with mind engaged, was one</span> -<span class="i0">Who did no business, with whom none was done;</span> -<span class="i0">Whose heart, engross’d by its peculiar care,</span> -<span class="i0">Shared no one’s counsel—no one his might share.</span> -<span class="i2">Richard, a boy, a lively boy, was told</span> -<span class="i0">Of his half-brother, haughty, stern, and cold;</span> -<span class="i0">And his boy folly, or his manly pride, <span class="linenum">140</span></span> -<span class="i0">Made him on measures cool and harsh decide.</span> -<span class="i0">So, when they met, a distant cold salute</span> -<span class="i0">Was of a long-expected day the fruit;</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_317" id="Page_317">[Pg 317]</a></span> -<span class="i0">The rest by proxies managed, each withdrew,</span> -<span class="i0">Vex’d by the business and the brother too;</span> -<span class="i0">But now they met when time had calm’d the mind;</span> -<span class="i0">Both wish’d for kindness, and it made them kind.</span> -<span class="i0">George had no wife or child, and was disposed</span> -<span class="i0">To love the man on whom his hope reposed:</span> -<span class="i0">Richard had both; and those so well beloved, <span class="linenum">150</span></span> -<span class="i0">Husband and father were to kindness moved;</span> -<span class="i0">And thus th’ affections check’d, subdued, restrain’d,</span> -<span class="i0">Rose in their force, and in their fulness reign’d.</span> -<span class="i2">The bell now bids to dine; the friendly priest,</span> -<span class="i0">Social and shrewd, the day’s delight increased.</span> -<span class="i0">Brief and abrupt their speeches while they dined,</span> -<span class="i0">Nor were their themes of intellectual kind;</span> -<span class="i0">Nor, dinner past, did they to these advance,</span> -<span class="i0">But left the subjects they discuss’d to chance.</span> -<span class="i2">Richard, whose boyhood in the place was spent, <span class="linenum">160</span></span> -<span class="i0">Profound attention to the speakers lent,</span> -<span class="i0">Who spake of men; and, as he heard a name,</span> -<span class="i0">Actors and actions to his memory came.</span> -<span class="i0">Then, too, the scenes he could distinctly trace,</span> -<span class="i0">Here he had fought, and there had gain’d a race;</span> -<span class="i0">In that church-walk he had affrighted been;</span> -<span class="i0">In that old tower he had a something seen—</span> -<span class="i0">What time, dismiss’d from school, he upward cast</span> -<span class="i0">A fearful look, and trembled as he past.</span> -<span class="i2">No private tutor Richard’s parents sought, <span class="linenum">170</span></span> -<span class="i0">Made keen by hardship, and by trouble taught;</span> -<span class="i0">They might have sent him—some the counsel gave—</span> -<span class="i0">Seven gloomy winters of the North to brave:</span> -<span class="i0">Where a few pounds would pay for board and bed,</span> -<span class="i0">While the poor frozen boy was taught and fed;</span> -<span class="i0">When, say he lives, fair, freckled, lank and lean,</span> -<span class="i0">The lad returns shrewd, subtle, close and keen;</span> -<span class="i0">With all the northern virtues, and the rules</span> -<span class="i0">Taught to the thrifty in these thriving schools.</span> -<span class="i0">There had he gone, and borne this trying part— <span class="linenum">180</span></span> -<span class="i0">But Richard’s mother had a mother’s heart.</span> -<span class="i2">Now squire and rector were return’d to school,</span> -<span class="i0">And spoke of him who there had sovereign rule:</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_318" id="Page_318">[Pg 318]</a></span> -<span class="i0">He was, it seem’d, a tyrant of the sort</span> -<span class="i0">Who make the cries of tortured boys his sport;</span> -<span class="i0">One of a race, if not extinguish’d, tamed—</span> -<span class="i0">The flogger now is of the act ashamed;</span> -<span class="i0">But this great mind all mercy’s calls withstood;</span> -<span class="i0">This Holofernes was a man of blood.</span> -<span class="i2">“Students,” he said, “like horses on the road, <span class="linenum">190</span></span> -<span class="i0">Must well be lash’d before they take the load;</span> -<span class="i0">They may be willing for a time to run,</span> -<span class="i0">But you must whip them ere the work be done.</span> -<span class="i0">To tell a boy, that, if he will improve,</span> -<span class="i0">His friends will praise him, and his parents love,</span> -<span class="i0">Is doing nothing—he has not a doubt</span> -<span class="i0">But they will love him, nay, applaud, without;</span> -<span class="i0">Let no fond sire a boy’s ambition trust,</span> -<span class="i0">To make him study, let him see he must.”</span> -<span class="i2">Such his opinion; and, to prove it true, <span class="linenum">200</span></span> -<span class="i0">At least sincere, it was his practice too.</span> -<span class="i0">Pluto they call’d him, and they named him well:</span> -<span class="i0">’Twas not an heaven where he was pleased to dwell.</span> -<span class="i0">From him a smile was like the Greenland sun,</span> -<span class="i0">Surprising, nay portentous, when it shone;</span> -<span class="i0">Or like the lightning, for the sudden flash</span> -<span class="i0">Prepared the children for the thunder’s crash.</span> -<span class="i2">O! had Narcissa, when she fondly kiss’d</span> -<span class="i0">The weeping boy whom she to school dismiss’d,</span> -<span class="i0">Had she beheld him shrinking from the arm <span class="linenum">210</span></span> -<span class="i0">Uplifted high to do the greater harm,</span> -<span class="i0">Then seen her darling stript, and that pure white,</span> -<span class="i0">And—O! her soul had fainted at the sight;</span> -<span class="i0">And with those looks that love could not withstand,</span> -<span class="i0">She would have cried, “Barbarian, hold thy hand!”</span> -<span class="i0">In vain! no grief to this stern soul could speak,</span> -<span class="i0">No iron-tear roll down this Pluto’s cheek.</span> -<span class="i2">Thus far they went, half earnest, half in jest,</span> -<span class="i0">Then turn’d to themes of deeper interest;</span> -<span class="i0">While Richard’s mind, that for awhile had stray’d, <span class="linenum">220</span></span> -<span class="i0">Call’d home its powers, and due attention paid.</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_319" id="Page_319">[Pg 319]</a></span> -</div></div></div> - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> -<p class="f150"><b>TALES OF THE HALL.</b></p> -<h3>BOOK III.</h3> -<p class="f110"><i>BOYS AT SCHOOL.</i></p> -</div> - -<p class="blockquot"> -The School—School-Boys—The Boy-Tyrant—Sir Hector Blane— -School-Boys in after Life, how changed—how the same—The patronized -Boy, his Life and Death—Reflections—Story of Harry Bland. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_320" id="Page_320">[Pg 320]</a></span></p> - -<p class="f150 break space-above2"><b>TALES OF THE HALL.</b></p> -<p class="f120"><b>BOOK III.</b></p> -<p class="f110"><i>BOYS AT SCHOOL.</i></p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poem2"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">We name the world a school, for day by day</span> -<span class="i0">We something learn, till we are call’d away;</span> -<span class="i0">The school we name a world,—for vice and pain,</span> -<span class="i0">Fraud and contention, there begin to reign;</span> -<span class="i0">And much, in fact, this lesser world can show</span> -<span class="i0">Of grief and crime that in the greater grow.</span> -<span class="i0">“You saw,” said George, “in that still-hated school</span> -<span class="i0">How the meek suffer, how the haughty rule;</span> -<span class="i0">There soft, ingenuous, gentle minds endure</span> -<span class="i0">Ills that ease, time, and friendship fail to cure; <span class="linenum">10</span></span> -<span class="i0">There the best hearts, and those, who shrink from sin,</span> -<span class="i0">Find some seducing imp to draw them in,</span> -<span class="i0">Who takes infernal pleasure to impart</span> -<span class="i0">The strongest poison to the purest heart.</span> -<span class="i0">Call to your mind this scene—Yon boy behold:</span> -<span class="i0">How hot the vengeance of a heart so cold!</span> -<span class="i0">See how he beats, whom he had just reviled</span> -<span class="i0">And made rebellious—that imploring child;</span> -<span class="i0">How fierce his eye, how merciless his blows,</span> -<span class="i0">And how his anger on his insult grows; <span class="linenum">20</span></span> -<span class="i0">You saw this Hector and his patient slave,</span> -<span class="i0">Th’ insulting speech, the cruel blows he gave.</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_321" id="Page_321">[Pg 321]</a></span> -<span class="i0">Mix’d with mankind, his interest in his sight,</span> -<span class="i0">We found this Nimrod civil and polite;</span> -<span class="i0">There was no triumph in his manner seen,</span> -<span class="i0">He was so humble you might think him mean.</span> -<span class="i0">Those angry passions slept till he attain’d</span> -<span class="i0">His purposed wealth, and waked when that was gain’d;</span> -<span class="i0">He then resumed the native wrath and pride,</span> -<span class="i0">The more indulged, as longer laid aside; <span class="linenum">30</span></span> -<span class="i0">Wife, children, servants, all obedience pay,</span> -<span class="i0">The slaves at school no greater slaves than they;</span> -<span class="i0">No more dependant, he resumes the rein,</span> -<span class="i0">And shows the school-boy turbulence again.</span> -<span class="i2">“Were I a poet, I would say, he brings</span> -<span class="i0">To recollection some impetuous springs;</span> -<span class="i0">See one that issues from its humble source,</span> -<span class="i0">To gain new powers, and run its noisy course:</span> -<span class="i0">Frothy and fierce among the rocks it goes,</span> -<span class="i0">And threatens all that bound it or oppose; <span class="linenum">40</span></span> -<span class="i0">Till wider grown, and finding large increase,</span> -<span class="i0">Though bounded still, it moves along in peace;</span> -<span class="i0">And, as its waters to the ocean glide,</span> -<span class="i0">They bear a busy people on its tide;</span> -<span class="i0">But there arrived, and from its channel free,</span> -<span class="i0">Those swelling waters meet the mighty sea;</span> -<span class="i0">With threat’ning force the new-form’d billows swell,</span> -<span class="i0">And now affright the crowd they bore so well.”</span> -<span class="i2">“Yet,” said the rector, “all these early signs</span> -<span class="i0">Of vice are lost, and vice itself declines; <span class="linenum">50</span></span> -<span class="i0">Religion counsels; troubles, sorrows rise,</span> -<span class="i0">And the vile spirit in the conflict dies.</span> -<span class="i2">“Sir Hector Blane, the champion of the school,</span> -<span class="i0">Was very blockhead, but was form’d for rule;</span> -<span class="i0">Learn he could not; he said he could not learn,</span> -<span class="i0">But he profess’d it gave him no concern.</span> -<span class="i0">Books were his horror, dinner his delight,</span> -<span class="i0">And his amusement to shake hands and fight;</span> -<span class="i0">Argue he could not, but in case of doubt,</span> -<span class="i0">Or disputation, fairly box’d it out. <span class="linenum">60</span></span> -<span class="i0">This was his logic, and his arm so strong,</span> -<span class="i0">His cause prevail’d, and he was never wrong;</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_322" id="Page_322">[Pg 322]</a></span> -<span class="i0">But so obtuse—you must have seen his look,</span> -<span class="i0">Desponding, angry, puzzled o’er his book.</span> -<span class="i2">“Can you not see him on the morn that proved</span> -<span class="i0">His skill in figures? Pluto’s self was moved—</span> -<span class="i0">‘Come, six times five?’ th’ impatient teacher cried;</span> -<span class="i0">In vain, the pupil shut his eyes, and sigh’d.</span> -<span class="i0">‘Try, six times count your fingers; how he stands!—</span> -<span class="i0">Your fingers, idiot!’—‘What, of both my hands?’ <span class="linenum">70</span></span> -<span class="i2">“With parts like these his father felt assured,</span> -<span class="i0">In busy times, a ship might be procured;</span> -<span class="i0">He too was pleased to be so early freed:</span> -<span class="i0">He now could fight, and he in time might read.</span> -<span class="i0">So he has fought, and in his country’s cause</span> -<span class="i0">Has gain’d him glory, and our hearts’ applause.</span> -<span class="i0">No more the blustering boy a school defies;<span class="ws11">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">We see the hero from the tyrant rise,<span class="ws16"> }</span></span> -<span class="i0">And in the captain’s worth the student’s dulness dies.” }</span> -<span class="i2">“Be all allow’d;” replied the squire, “I give <span class="linenum">80</span></span> -<span class="i0">Praise to his actions; may their glory live!</span> -<span class="i0">Nay, I will hear him in his riper age</span> -<span class="i0">Fight his good ship, and with the foe engage;</span> -<span class="i0">Nor will I quit him when the cowards fly,</span> -<span class="i0">Although, like them, I dread his energy.</span> -<span class="i2">“But still, my friend, that ancient spirit reigns;</span> -<span class="i0">His powers support the credit of his brains,</span> -<span class="i0">Insisting ever that he must be right,</span> -<span class="i0">And for his reasons still prepared to fight.</span> -<span class="i0">Let him a judge of England’s prowess be, <span class="linenum">90</span></span> -<span class="i0">And all her floating terrors on the sea;</span> -<span class="i0">But this contents not, this is not denied;</span> -<span class="i0">He claims a right on all things to decide,</span> -<span class="i0">A kind of patent-wisdom; and he cries,</span> -<span class="i0">‘’Tis so!’ and bold the hero that denies.</span> -<span class="i0">Thus the boy-spirit still the bosom rules,</span> -<span class="i0">And the world’s maxims were at first the school’s.”</span> -<span class="i2">“No doubt,” said Jacques, “there are in minds the seeds</span> -<span class="i0">Of good and ill, the virtues and the weeds;</span> -<span class="i0">But is it not of study the intent <span class="linenum">100</span></span> -<span class="i0">This growth of evil nature to prevent?</span> -<span class="i0">To check the progress of each idle shoot</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_323" id="Page_323">[Pg 323]</a></span> -<span class="i0">That might retard the ripening of the fruit?</span> -<span class="i0">Our purpose certain, and we much effect,</span> -<span class="i0">We something cure, and something we correct;</span> -<span class="i0">But do your utmost: when the man you see,</span> -<span class="i0">You find him what you saw the boy would be,</span> -<span class="i0">Disguised a little; but we still behold</span> -<span class="i0">What pleased and what offended us of old.</span> -<span class="i0">Years from the mind no native stain remove, <span class="linenum">110</span></span> -<span class="i0">But lay the varnish of the world above.</span> -<span class="i0">Still, when he can, he loves to step aside</span> -<span class="i0">And be the boy, without a check or guide;</span> -<span class="i0">In the old wanderings he with pleasure strays,</span> -<span class="i0">And reassumes the bliss of earlier days.</span> -<span class="i2">“I left at school the boy with pensive look,</span> -<span class="i0">Whom some great patron order’d to his book;</span> -<span class="i0">Who from his mother’s cot reluctant came,</span> -<span class="i0">And gave my lord, for this compassion, fame;</span> -<span class="i0">Who, told of all his patron’s merit, sigh’d, <span class="linenum">120</span></span> -<span class="i0">I know not why, in sorrow or in pride;</span> -<span class="i0">And would, with vex’d and troubled spirit, cry,</span> -<span class="i0">‘I am not happy; let your envy die.’</span> -<span class="i0">Him left I with you; who, perhaps, can tell</span> -<span class="i0">If fortune bless’d him, or what fate befell.</span> -<span class="i0">I yet remember how the idlers ran</span> -<span class="i0">To see the carriage of the godlike man,</span> -<span class="i0">When pride restrain’d me; yet I thought the deed</span> -<span class="i0">Was noble, too—and how did it succeed?”</span> -<span class="i2">Jacques answer’d not till he had backward cast <span class="linenum">130</span></span> -<span class="i0">His view, and dwelt upon the evil past;</span> -<span class="i0">Then, as he sigh’d, he smil’d;—from folly rise</span> -<span class="i0">Such smiles, and misery will create such sighs.</span> -<span class="i0">And Richard now from his abstraction broke,</span> -<span class="i0">Listening attentive as the rector spoke.</span> -</div></div> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i2">“This noble lord was one disposed to try</span> -<span class="i0">And weigh the worth of each new luxury;</span> -<span class="i0">Now, at a certain time, in pleasant mood,</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_324" id="Page_324">[Pg 324]</a></span> -<span class="i0">He tried the luxury of doing good.</span> -<span class="i0">For this he chose a widow’s handsome boy, <span class="linenum">140</span></span> -<span class="i0">Whom he would first improve, and then employ.</span> -<span class="i0">The boy was gentle, modest, civil, kind,</span> -<span class="i0">But not for bustling through the world design’d;</span> -<span class="i0">Reserved in manner, with a little gloom,</span> -<span class="i0">Apt to retire, but never to assume;</span> -<span class="i0">Possess’d of pride that he could not subdue,</span> -<span class="i0">Although he kept his origin in view.</span> -<span class="i0">Him sent my lord to school, and this became</span> -<span class="i0">A theme for praise, and gave his lordship fame;</span> -<span class="i0">But when the boy was told how great his debt, <span class="linenum">150</span></span> -<span class="i0">He proudly ask’d, ‘is it contracted yet?’</span> -<span class="i2">“With care he studied, and with some success;</span> -<span class="i0">His patience great, but his acquirements less:</span> -<span class="i0">Yet when he heard that Charles would not excel,</span> -<span class="i0">His lordship answer’d, with a smile, ‘’tis well;</span> -<span class="i0">Let him proceed, and do the best he can,</span> -<span class="i0">I want no pedant, but a useful man.’</span> -<span class="i2">“The speech was heard, and praise was amply dealt,</span> -<span class="i0">His lordship felt it, and he said he felt—</span> -<span class="i0">‘It is delightful,’ he observed, ‘to raise <span class="linenum">160</span></span> -<span class="i0">And foster merit—it is more than praise.’</span> -<span class="i2">“Five years at school th’ industrious boy had past,</span> -<span class="i0">‘And what,’ was whisper’d, ‘will be done at last?’</span> -<span class="i2">“My lord was troubled, for he did not mean</span> -<span class="i0">To have his bounty watch’d and overseen;</span> -<span class="i0">Bounty that sleeps when men applaud no more</span> -<span class="i0">The generous act that waked their praise before;</span> -<span class="i0">The deed was pleasant while the praise was new,</span> -<span class="i0">But none the progress would with wonder view.</span> -<span class="i0">It was a debt contracted; he who pays <span class="linenum">170</span></span> -<span class="i0">A debt is just, but must not look for praise:</span> -<span class="i0">The deed that once had fame must still proceed,</span> -<span class="i0">Though fame no more proclaims ‘how great the deed!’</span> -<span class="i0">The boy is taken from his mother’s side,</span> -<span class="i0">And he who took him must be now his guide.</span> -<span class="i0">But this, alas! instead of bringing fame,</span> -<span class="i0">A tax, a trouble, to my lord became.</span> -<span class="i2">“‘The boy is dull, you say,—why then by trade,</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_325" id="Page_325">[Pg 325]</a></span> -<span class="i0">By law, by physic, nothing can be made;</span> -<span class="i0">If a small living—mine are both too large, <span class="linenum">180</span></span> -<span class="i0">And then the college is a cursed charge.</span> -<span class="i0">The sea is open; should he there display</span> -<span class="i0">Signs of dislike, he cannot run away.’</span> -<span class="i2">“Now Charles, who acted no heroic part,</span> -<span class="i0">And felt no seaman’s glory warm his heart,</span> -<span class="i0">Refused the offer—anger touch’d my lord.—</span> -<span class="i0">‘He does not like it—Good, upon my word—</span> -<span class="i0">If I at college place him, he will need</span> -<span class="i0">Supplies for ever, and will not succeed;—</span> -<span class="i0">Doubtless in me ’tis duty to provide <span class="linenum">190</span></span> -<span class="i0">Not for his comfort only, but his pride—</span> -<span class="i0">Let him to sea!’—He heard the words again,</span> -<span class="i0">With promise join’d—with threat’ning; all in vain:</span> -<span class="i0">Charles had his own pursuits; for aid to these</span> -<span class="i0">He had been thankful, and had tried to please;</span> -<span class="i0">But urged again, as meekly as a saint,</span> -<span class="i0">He humbly begg’d to stay at home, and paint.</span> -<span class="i0">‘Yes, pay some dauber, that this stubborn fool</span> -<span class="i0">May grind his colours, and may boast his school.’</span> -<span class="i2">“As both persisted, ‘Choose, good sir, your way,’ <span class="linenum">200</span></span> -<span class="i0">The peer exclaim’d, ‘I have no more to say,</span> -<span class="i0">I seek your good, but I have no command</span> -<span class="i0">Upon your will, nor your desire withstand.’</span> -<span class="i2">“Resolved and firm, yet dreading to offend,</span> -<span class="i0">Charles pleaded <i>genius</i> with his noble friend:</span> -<span class="i0">‘Genius!’ he cried, ‘the name that triflers give</span> -<span class="i0">To their strong wishes without pains to live;</span> -<span class="i0">Genius! the plea of all who feel desire</span> -<span class="i0">Of fame, yet grudge the labours that acquire—</span> -<span class="i0">But say ’tis true: how poor, how late the gain, <span class="linenum">210</span></span> -<span class="i0">And certain ruin if the hope be vain!’</span> -<span class="i0">Then to the world appeal’d my lord, and cried,</span> -<span class="i0">‘Whatever happens, I am justified.’</span> -<span class="i0">Nay, it was trouble to his soul to find</span> -<span class="i0">There was such hardness in the human mind:</span> -<span class="i0">He wash’d his hands before the world, and swore</span> -<span class="i0">That he ‘such minds would patronize no more.’</span> -<span class="i2">“Now Charles his bread by daily labours sought,</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_326" id="Page_326">[Pg 326]</a></span> -<span class="i0">And this his solace, ‘so Corregio wrought.’</span> -<span class="i0">Alas, poor youth! however great his name, <span class="linenum">220</span></span> -<span class="i0">And humble thine, thy fortune was the same.</span> -<span class="i0">Charles drew and painted, and some praise obtain’d</span> -<span class="i0">For care and pains; but little more was gain’d:</span> -<span class="i0">Fame was his hope, and he contempt display’d</span> -<span class="i0">For approbation, when ’twas coolly paid;</span> -<span class="i0">His daily tasks he call’d a waste of mind,</span> -<span class="i0">Vex’d at his fate, and angry with mankind:</span> -<span class="i0">‘Thus have the blind to merit ever done,</span> -<span class="i0">And Genius mourn’d for each neglected son.’</span> -<span class="i2">“Charles murmur’d thus, and, angry and alone, <span class="linenum">230</span></span> -<span class="i0">Half breathed the curse, and half suppress’d the groan;</span> -<span class="i0">Then still more sullen grew, and still more proud;<span class="ws7">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Fame so refused he to himself allow’d; <span class="ws15">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Crowds in contempt he held, and all to him was crowd.  }</span> -<span class="i2">“If aught on earth, the youth his mother loved,</span> -<span class="i0">And, at her death, to distant scenes removed.</span> -<span class="i2">“Years past away, and where he lived, and how,</span> -<span class="i0">Was then unknown—indeed we know not now;</span> -<span class="i0">But once at twilight walking up and down,</span> -<span class="i0">In a poor alley of the mighty town, <span class="linenum">240</span></span> -<span class="i0">Where, in her narrow courts and garrets, hide</span> -<span class="i0">The grieving sons of genius, want, and pride,</span> -<span class="i0">I met him musing; sadness I could trace,</span> -<span class="i0">And conquer’d hope’s meek anguish, in his face.</span> -<span class="i0">See him I must; but I with ease address’d,</span> -<span class="i0">And neither pity nor surprise express’d;</span> -<span class="i0">I strove both grief and pleasure to restrain,</span> -<span class="i0">But yet I saw that I was giving pain.</span> -<span class="i0">He said, with quick’ning pace, as loth to hold</span> -<span class="i0">A longer converse, that ‘the day was cold, <span class="linenum">250</span></span> -<span class="i0">That he was well, that I had scarcely light</span> -<span class="i0">To aid my steps,’ and bade me then good night!</span> -<span class="i2">“I saw him next where he had lately come,</span> -<span class="i0">A silent pauper in a crowded room;</span> -<span class="i0">I heard his name, but he conceal’d his face,</span> -<span class="i0">To his sad mind his misery was disgrace;</span> -<span class="i0">In vain I strove to combat his disdain</span> -<span class="i0">Of my compassion——‘Sir, I pray, refrain;’</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_327" id="Page_327">[Pg 327]</a></span> -<span class="i0">For I had left my friends and stepp’d aside,</span> -<span class="i0">Because I fear’d his unrelenting pride. <span class="linenum">260</span></span> -<span class="i2">“He then was sitting on a workhouse-bed,</span> -<span class="i0">And on the naked boards reclined his head,</span> -<span class="i0">Around were children with incessant cry,</span> -<span class="i0">And near was one, like him, about to die;</span> -<span class="i0">A broken chair’s deal bottom held the store</span> -<span class="i0">That he required—he soon would need no more;</span> -<span class="i0">A yellow tea-pot, standing at his side,</span> -<span class="i0">From its half-spout the cold, black tea supplied.</span> -<span class="i2">“Hither, it seem’d, the fainting man was brought,</span> -<span class="i0">Found without food—it was no longer sought; <span class="linenum">270</span></span> -<span class="i0">For his employers knew not whom they paid,</span> -<span class="i0">Nor where to seek him whom they wish’d to aid.</span> -<span class="i0">Here brought, some kind attendant he address’d,</span> -<span class="i0">And sought some trifles which he yet possess’d;</span> -<span class="i0">Then named a lightless closet, in a room</span> -<span class="i0">Hired at small rate, a garret’s deepest gloom.</span> -<span class="i0">They sought the region, and they brought him all</span> -<span class="i0">That he his own, his proper wealth could call:</span> -<span class="i0">A better coat, less pieced; some linen neat,</span> -<span class="i0">Not whole; and papers, many a valued sheet— <span class="linenum">280</span></span> -<span class="i0">Designs and drawings; these, at his desire,</span> -<span class="i0">Were placed before him at the chamber fire,</span> -<span class="i0">And while th’ admiring people stood to gaze,</span> -<span class="i0">He, one by one, committed to the blaze,</span> -<span class="i0">Smiling in spleen; but one he held awhile,</span> -<span class="i0">And gave it to the flames, and could not smile.</span> -<span class="i2">“The sickening man—for such appear’d the fact—</span> -<span class="i0">Just in his need, would not a debt contract;</span> -<span class="i0">But left his poor apartment for the bed</span> -<span class="i0">That earth might yield him, or some way-side shed; <span class="linenum">290</span></span> -<span class="i0">Here he was found, and to this place convey’d,</span> -<span class="i0">Where he might rest, and his last debt be paid:</span> -<span class="i0">Fame was his wish, but he so far from fame,<span class="ws12">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">That no one knew his kindred, or his name,<span class="ws13">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Or by what means he lived, or from what place he came.  }</span> -<span class="i2">“Poor Charles! unnoticed by thy titled friend,</span> -<span class="i0">Thy days had calmly past, in peace thine end;</span> -<span class="i0">Led by thy patron’s vanity astray,</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_328" id="Page_328">[Pg 328]</a></span> -<span class="i0">Thy own misled thee in thy trackless way,</span> -<span class="i0">Urging thee on by hope absurd and vain, <span class="linenum">300</span></span> -<span class="i0">Where never peace or comfort smiled again!</span> -<span class="i2">“Once more I saw him, when his spirits fail’d,</span> -<span class="i0">And my desire to aid him then prevail’d;</span> -<span class="i0">He show’d a softer feeling in his eye,</span> -<span class="i0">And watch’d my looks, and own’d the sympathy.</span> -<span class="i0">’Twas now the calm of wearied pride; so long</span> -<span class="i0">As he had strength was his resentment strong;</span> -<span class="i0">But in such place, with strangers all around,</span> -<span class="i0">And they such strangers, to have something found</span> -<span class="i0">Allied to his own heart, an early friend— <span class="ws8">}</span><span class="linenum">310</span></span> -<span class="i0">One, only one, who would on him attend,<span class="ws8">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">To give and take a look at this his journey’s end! }</span> -<span class="i0">One link, however slender, of the chain</span> -<span class="i0">That held him where he could not long remain;</span> -<span class="i0">The one sole interest!—No, he could not now</span> -<span class="i0">Retain his anger; Nature knew not how;</span> -<span class="i0">And so there came a softness to his mind,</span> -<span class="i0">And he forgave the usage of mankind.</span> -<span class="i0">His cold long fingers now were press’d to mine,</span> -<span class="i0">And his faint smile of kinder thoughts gave sign; <span class="linenum">320</span></span> -<span class="i0">His lips moved often as he tried to lend</span> -<span class="i0">His words their sound, and softly whisper’d ‘friend!’</span> -<span class="i0">Not without comfort in the thought express’d</span> -<span class="i0">By that calm look with which he sank to rest.”</span> -</div></div> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i2">“The man,” said George, “you see, through life retain’d</span> -<span class="i0">The boy’s defects; his virtues too remain’d.</span> -<span class="i2">“But where are now those minds so light and gay, <span class="ws11">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">So forced on study, so intent on play, <span class="ws23">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Swept, by the world’s rude blasts, from hope’s dear views away }</span> -<span class="i0">Some grieved for long neglect in earlier times, <span class="linenum">330</span></span> -<span class="i0">Some sad from frailties, some lamenting crimes;</span> -<span class="i0">Thinking, with sorrow, on the season lent</span> -<span class="i0">For noble purpose, and in trifling spent;</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_329" id="Page_329">[Pg 329]</a></span> -<span class="i0">And now, at last, when they in earnest view</span> -<span class="i0">The nothings done—what work they find to do!</span> -<span class="i0">Where is that virtue that the generous boy</span> -<span class="i0">Felt, and resolved that nothing should destroy?</span> -<span class="i0">He who with noble indignation glow’d</span> -<span class="i0">When vice had triumph? who his tear bestow’d</span> -<span class="i0">On injured merit? he who would possess <span class="linenum">340</span></span> -<span class="i0">Power, but to aid the children of distress;</span> -<span class="i0">Who has such joy in generous actions shown,</span> -<span class="i0">And so sincere, they might be call’d his own;</span> -<span class="i0">Knight, hero, patriot, martyr! on whose tongue,</span> -<span class="i0">And potent arm, a nation’s welfare hung;</span> -<span class="i0">He who to public misery brought relief,</span> -<span class="i0">And soothed the anguish of domestic grief?</span> -<span class="i0">Where now this virtue’s fervour, spirit, zeal?</span> -<span class="i0">Who felt so warmly, has he ceased to feel?</span> -<span class="i0">The boy’s emotions of that noble kind, <span class="linenum">350</span></span> -<span class="i0">Ah! sure th’ experienced man has not resign’d;</span> -<span class="i0">Or are these feelings varied? has the knight,</span> -<span class="i0">Virtue’s own champion, now refused to fight?</span> -<span class="i0">Is the deliverer turn’d th’ oppressor now?</span> -<span class="i0">Has the reformer dropt the dangerous vow?</span> -<span class="i0">Or has the patriot’s bosom lost its heat,</span> -<span class="i0">And forced him, shivering, to a snug retreat?</span> -<span class="i0">Is such the grievous lapse of human pride?</span> -<span class="i0">Is such the victory of the worth untried?</span> -<span class="i2">“Here will I pause, and then review the shame <span class="linenum">360</span></span> -<span class="i0">Of Harry Bland, to hear his parent’s name.</span> -<span class="i0">That mild, that modest boy, whom well we knew,</span> -<span class="i0">In him long time the secret sorrow grew;</span> -<span class="i0">He wept alone; then to his friend confess’d</span> -<span class="i0">The grievous fears that his pure mind oppress’d;</span> -<span class="i0">And thus, when terror o’er his shame obtain’d</span> -<span class="i0">A painful conquest, he his case explain’d;</span> -<span class="i0">And first his favourite question’d—‘Willie, tell,</span> -<span class="i0">Do all the wicked people go to hell?’</span> -<span class="i2">“Willie with caution answer’d, ‘Yes, they do, <span class="linenum">370</span></span> -<span class="i0">Or else repent; but what is this to you?’</span> -<span class="i0">‘O! yes, dear friend:’ he then his tale began—</span> -<span class="i0">‘He fear’d his father was a wicked man,</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_330" id="Page_330">[Pg 330]</a></span> -<span class="i0">Nor had repented of his naughty life;</span> -<span class="i0">The wife he had indeed was not a wife,</span> -<span class="i0">Not as my mother was; the servants all</span> -<span class="i0">Call her a name—I’ll whisper what they call.</span> -<span class="i0">She saw me weep, and ask’d, in high disdain,</span> -<span class="i0">If tears could bring my mother back again?</span> -<span class="i0">This I could bear, but not when she pretends <span class="linenum">380</span></span> -<span class="i0">Such fond regard, and what I speak commends;</span> -<span class="i0">Talks of my learning, fawning wretch! and tries</span> -<span class="i0">To make me love her,—love! when I despise.</span> -<span class="i0">Indeed I had it in my heart to say</span> -<span class="i0">Words of reproach, before I came away;</span> -<span class="i0">And then my father’s look is not the same,</span> -<span class="i0">He puts his anger on to hide his shame.’</span> -<span class="i2">“With all these feelings delicate and nice,</span> -<span class="i0">This dread of infamy, this scorn of vice,</span> -<span class="i0">He left the school, accepting, though with pride, <span class="linenum">390</span></span> -<span class="i0">His father’s aid—but there would not reside;</span> -<span class="i0">He married then a lovely maid, approved</span> -<span class="i0">Of every heart as worthy to be loved;</span> -<span class="i0">Mild as the morn in summer, firm as truth,</span> -<span class="i0">And graced with wisdom in the bloom of youth.</span> -<span class="i2">“How is it, men, when they in judgment sit</span> -<span class="i0">On the same fault, now censure, now acquit?</span> -<span class="i0">Is it not thus, that <i>here</i> we view the sin,</span> -<span class="i0">And <i>there</i> the powerful cause that drew us in?</span> -<span class="i0">’Tis not that men are to the evil blind, <span class="linenum">400</span></span> -<span class="i0">But that a different object fills the mind.</span> -<span class="i0">In judging others we can see too well</span> -<span class="i0">Their grievous fall, but not how grieved they fell;</span> -<span class="i0">Judging ourselves, we to our minds recall,</span> -<span class="i0">Not how we fell, but how we grieved to fall.</span> -<span class="i0">Or could this man, so vex’d in early time,</span> -<span class="i0">By this strong feeling for his father’s crime;</span> -<span class="i0">Who to the parent’s sin was barely just,</span> -<span class="i0">And mix’d with filial fear the man’s disgust—</span> -<span class="i0">Could he, without some strong delusion, quit <span class="linenum">410</span></span> -<span class="i0">The path of duty, and to shame submit?</span> -<span class="i0">Cast off the virtue he so highly prized,</span> -<span class="i0">‘And be the very creature he despised?’</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_331" id="Page_331">[Pg 331]</a></span> -<span class="i2">“A tenant’s wife, half forward, half afraid,</span> -<span class="i0">Features, it seem’d, of powerful cast displayed,</span> -<span class="i0">That bore down faith and duty; common fame</span> -<span class="i0">Speaks of a contract that augments the shame.</span> -<span class="i2">“There goes he, not unseen, so strong the will,</span> -<span class="i0">And blind the wish, that bear him to the mill;</span> -<span class="i0">There he degraded sits, and strives to please <span class="linenum">420</span></span> -<span class="i0">The miller’s children, laughing at his knees;</span> -<span class="i0">And little Dorcas, now familiar grown,</span> -<span class="i0">Talks of her rich papa, and of her own.</span> -<span class="i0">He woos the mother’s now precarious smile</span> -<span class="i0">By costly gifts, that tempers reconcile;</span> -<span class="i0">While the rough husband, yielding to the pay</span> -<span class="i0">That buys his absence, growling stalks away.</span> -<span class="i0">’Tis said th’ offending man will sometimes sigh,</span> -<span class="i0">And say, ‘My God, in what a dream am I!</span> -<span class="i0">I will awake;’ but, as the day proceeds, <span class="linenum">430</span></span> -<span class="i0">The weaken’d mind the day’s indulgence needs;</span> -<span class="i0">Hating himself at every step he takes,</span> -<span class="i0">His mind approves the virtue he forsakes,</span> -<span class="i0">And yet forsakes her. O! how sharp the pain,</span> -<span class="i0">Our vice, ourselves, our habits to disdain;</span> -<span class="i0">To go where never yet in peace we went; <span class="ws8"> }</span></span> -<span class="i0">To feel our hearts can bleed, yet not relent; <span class="ws7">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">To sigh, yet not recede; to grieve, yet not repent!” }</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_332" id="Page_332">[Pg 332]</a></span> -</div></div></div> - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> -<p class="f150"><b>TALES OF THE HALL.</b></p> -<h3>BOOK IV.</h3> -<p class="f110"><i>ADVENTURES OF RICHARD.</i></p> -</div> - -<p class="blockquot"> -Meeting of the Brothers in the Morning—Pictures, Music, Books— -The Autumnal Walk—The Farm—The Flock—Effect of Retirement -upon the Mind—Dinner—Richard’s Adventure at Sea—George -inquires into the Education of his Brother—Richard’s Account of -his Occupations in his early Life: his Pursuits, Associations, -Partialities, Affections and Feelings—His Love of Freedom—The -Society he chose—The Friendships he engaged in—and the Habits -he contracted. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_333" id="Page_333">[Pg 333]</a></span></p> - -<p class="f150 break space-above2"><b>TALES OF THE HALL.</b></p> -<p class="f120"><b>BOOK IV.</b></p> -<p class="f110"><i>ADVENTURES OF RICHARD.</i></p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poem2"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Eight days had past; the Brothers now could meet</span> -<span class="i0">With ease, and take the customary seat.</span> -<span class="i0">“These” said the host—for he perceived where stray’d</span> -<span class="i0">His brother’s eye, and what he now survey’d—</span> -<span class="i0">“These are the costly trifles that we buy,</span> -<span class="i0">Urged by the strong demands of vanity,</span> -<span class="i0">The thirst and hunger of a mind diseased,</span> -<span class="i0">That must with purchased flattery be appeased;</span> -<span class="i0">But yet, ’tis true, the things that you behold</span> -<span class="i0">Serve to amuse us as we’re getting old. <span class="linenum">10</span></span> -<span class="i0">These pictures, as I heard our artists say,</span> -<span class="i0">Are genuine all, and I believe they may;</span> -<span class="i0">They cost the genuine sums, and I should grieve</span> -<span class="i0">If, being willing, I could not believe.</span> -<span class="i0">And there is music; when the ladies come,</span> -<span class="i0">With their keen looks they scrutinize the room</span> -<span class="i0">To see what pleases, and I must expect</span> -<span class="i0">To yield them pleasure, or to find neglect:</span> -<span class="i0">For, as attractions from our person fly,</span> -<span class="i0">Our purses, Richard, must the want supply; <span class="linenum">20</span></span> -<span class="i0">Yet would it vex me, could the triflers know</span> -<span class="i0">That they can shut out comfort or bestow.</span> -<span class="i2">“But see this room: here, Richard, you will find</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_334" id="Page_334">[Pg 334]</a></span> -<span class="i0">Books for all palates, food for every mind;</span> -<span class="i0">This readers term the ever-new delight,</span> -<span class="i0">And so it is, if minds have appetite:</span> -<span class="i0">Mine once was craving; great my joy, indeed,</span> -<span class="i0">Had I possess’d such food when I could feed;</span> -<span class="i0">When at the call of every new-born wish</span> -<span class="i0">I could have keenly relish’d every dish— <span class="linenum">30</span></span> -<span class="i0">Now, Richard, now, I stalk around and look</span> -<span class="i0">Upon the dress and title of a book,</span> -<span class="i0">Try half a page, and then can taste no more,</span> -<span class="i0">But the dull volume to its place restore;</span> -<span class="i0">Begin a second slowly to peruse,</span> -<span class="i0">Then cast it by, and look about for news;</span> -<span class="i0">The news itself grows dull in long debates—</span> -<span class="i0">I skip, and see what the conclusion states;</span> -<span class="i0">And many a speech, with zeal and study made</span> -<span class="i0">Cold and resisting spirits to persuade, <span class="linenum">40</span></span> -<span class="i0">Is lost on mine; alone, we cease to feel</span> -<span class="i0">What crowds admire, and wonder at their zeal.</span> -<span class="i2">“But how the day? No fairer will it be? <span class="ws16">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Walk you? Alas! ’tis requisite for me—<span class="ws18">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Nay, let me not prescribe—my friends and guests are free.” }</span> -</div></div> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i2">It was a fair and mild autumnal sky,</span> -<span class="i0">And earth’s ripe treasures met th’ admiring eye,</span> -<span class="i0">As a rich beauty, when her bloom is lost,</span> -<span class="i0">Appears with more magnificence and cost.</span> -<span class="i0">The wet and heavy grass, where feet had stray’d, <span class="linenum">50</span></span> -<span class="i0">Not yet erect, the wanderer’s way betray’d;</span> -<span class="i0">Showers of the night had swell’d the deep’ning rill;</span> -<span class="i0">The morning breeze had urged the quick’ning mill;</span> -<span class="i0">Assembled rooks had wing’d their sea-ward flight,  }</span> -<span class="i0">By the same passage to return at night;<span class="ws12">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">While proudly o’er them hung the steady kite,<span class="ws6">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Then turn’d him back, and left the noisy throng,</span> -<span class="i0">Nor deign’d to know them as he sail’d along.</span> -<span class="i0">Long yellow leaves from oziers, strew’d around,</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_335" id="Page_335">[Pg 335]</a></span> -<span class="i0">Choked the small stream, and hush’d the feeble sound; <span class="linenum">60</span></span> -<span class="i0">While the dead foliage dropt from loftier trees</span> -<span class="i0">Our squire beheld not with his wonted ease,</span> -<span class="i0">But to his own reflections made reply,</span> -<span class="i0">And said aloud, “Yes! doubtless we must die.”</span> -<span class="i2">“We must;” said Richard, “and we would not live</span> -<span class="i0">To feel what dotage and decay will give;</span> -<span class="i0">But we yet taste whatever we behold:</span> -<span class="i0">The morn is lovely, though the air is cold;</span> -<span class="i0">There is delicious quiet in this scene,</span> -<span class="i0">At once so rich, so varied, so serene; <span class="linenum">70</span></span> -<span class="i0">Sounds too delight us—each discordant tone</span> -<span class="i0">Thus mingled please, that fail to please alone:</span> -<span class="i0">This hollow wind, this rustling of the brook,<span class="ws6">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">The farm-yard noise, the woodman at yon oak—  }</span> -<span class="i0">See, the axe falls!—now listen to the stroke!<span class="ws6">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">That gun itself, that murders all this peace,</span> -<span class="i0">Adds to the charm, because it soon must cease.”</span> -<span class="i2">“No doubt,” said George, “the country has its charms!</span> -<span class="i0">My farm behold! the model for all farms!</span> -<span class="i0">Look at that land—you find not there a weed, <span class="linenum">80</span></span> -<span class="i0">We grub the roots, and suffer none to seed.</span> -<span class="i0">To land like this no botanist will come,</span> -<span class="i0">To seek the precious ware he hides at home;</span> -<span class="i0">Pressing the leaves and flowers with effort nice,</span> -<span class="i0">As if they came from herbs in Paradise;</span> -<span class="i0">Let them their favourites with my neighbours see,</span> -<span class="i0">They have no—what?—no <i>habitat</i> with me.</span> -<span class="i2">“Now see my flock, and hear its glory;—none</span> -<span class="i0">Have that vast body and that slender bone;</span> -<span class="i0">They are the village boast, the dealer’s theme, <span class="linenum">90</span></span> -<span class="i0">Fleece of such staple! flesh in such esteem!”</span> -<span class="i2">“Brother,” said Richard, “do I hear aright?</span> -<span class="i0">Does the land truly give so much delight?”</span> -<span class="i2">“So says my bailiff; sometimes I have tried</span> -<span class="i0">To catch the joy, but nature has denied;</span> -<span class="i0">It will not be—the mind has had a store</span> -<span class="i0">Laid up for life, and will admit no more.</span> -<span class="i0">Worn out in trials, and about to die,</span> -<span class="i0">In vain to these we for amusement fly;</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_336" id="Page_336">[Pg 336]</a></span> -<span class="i0">We farm, we garden, we our poor employ, <span class="linenum">100</span></span> -<span class="i0">And much command, though little we enjoy;</span> -<span class="i0">Or, if ambitious, we employ our pen,</span> -<span class="i0">We plant a desert, or we drain a fen;</span> -<span class="i0">And—here, behold my medal!—this will show</span> -<span class="i0">What men may merit when they nothing know.”</span> -<span class="i2">“Yet reason here,” said Richard, “joins with pride:—”</span> -<span class="i0">“I did not ask th’ alliance,” George replied—</span> -<span class="i0">“I grant it true, such trifle may induce</span> -<span class="i0">A dull, proud man to wake and be of use;</span> -<span class="i0">And there are purer pleasures, that a mind <span class="linenum">110</span></span> -<span class="i0">Calm and uninjured may in villas find;</span> -<span class="i0">But, where th’ affections have been deeply tried,</span> -<span class="i0">With other food that mind must be supplied:</span> -<span class="i0">’Tis not in trees or medals to impart</span> -<span class="i0">The powerful medicine for an aching heart;</span> -<span class="i0">The agitation dies, but there is still</span> -<span class="i0">The backward spirit, the resisting will.</span> -<span class="i0">Man takes his body to a country seat,</span> -<span class="i0">But minds, dear Richard, have their own retreat;</span> -<span class="i0">Oft when the feet are pacing o’er the green <span class="linenum">120</span></span> -<span class="i0">The mind is gone where never grass was seen,</span> -<span class="i0">And never thinks of hill, or vale, or plain,<span class="ws15">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Till want of rest creates a sense of pain, <span class="ws16">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">That calls that wandering mind, and brings it home again. }</span> -<span class="i0">No more of farms; but here I boast of minds</span> -<span class="i0">That make a friend the richer when he finds:</span> -<span class="i0">These shalt thou see;—but, Richard, be it known,</span> -<span class="i0">Who thinks to see must in his turn be shown.—</span> -<span class="i0">But now farewell! to thee will I resign</span> -<span class="i0">Woods, walks, and valleys! take them till we dine.” <span class="linenum">130</span></span> -</div></div> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i2">The Brothers dined, and with that plenteous fare</span> -<span class="i0">That seldom fails to dissipate our care,</span> -<span class="i0">At least the lighter kind; and oft prevails</span> -<span class="i0">When reason, duty, nay, when kindness fails.</span> -<span class="i0">Yet food and wine, and all that mortals bless,</span> -<span class="i0">Lead them to think of peril and distress—</span> -<span class="i0">Cold, hunger, danger, solitude, and pain,</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_337" id="Page_337">[Pg 337]</a></span> -<span class="i0">That men in life’s adventurous ways sustain.</span> -<span class="i2">“Thou hast sail’d far, dear brother,” said the ’squire—</span> -<span class="i0">“Permit me of these unknown lands t’ inquire, <span class="linenum">140</span></span> -<span class="i0">Lands never till’d, where thou hast wondering been,</span> -<span class="i0">And all the marvels thou hast heard and seen.</span> -<span class="i0">Do tell me something of the miseries felt</span> -<span class="i0">In climes where travellers freeze, and where they melt;</span> -<span class="i0">And be not nice—we know ’tis not in men</span> -<span class="i0">Who travel far to hold a steady pen.</span> -<span class="i0">Some will, ’tis true, a bolder freedom take,</span> -<span class="i0">And keep our wonder always wide awake;</span> -<span class="i0">We know of those whose dangers far exceed</span> -<span class="i0">Our frail belief, that trembles as we read: <span class="linenum">150</span></span> -<span class="i0">Such as in deserts burn, and thirst, and die,</span> -<span class="i0">Save a last gasp that they recover by;</span> -<span class="i0">Then, too, their hazard from a tyrant’s arms,</span> -<span class="i0">A tiger’s fury, or a lady’s charms;</span> -<span class="i0">Beside th’ accumulated evils borne</span> -<span class="i0">From the bold outset to the safe return.</span> -<span class="i0">These men abuse; but thou hast fair pretence</span> -<span class="i0">To modest dealing, and to mild good sense;</span> -<span class="i0">Then let me hear thy struggles and escapes</span> -<span class="i0">In the far lands of crocodiles and apes: <span class="linenum">160</span></span> -<span class="i0">Say, hast thou, Bruce-like, knelt upon the bed</span> -<span class="i0">Where the young Nile uplifts his branchy head?</span> -<span class="i0">Or been partaker of th’ unhallow’d feast,</span> -<span class="i0">Where beast-like man devours his fellow beast,</span> -<span class="i0">And churn’d the bleeding life? while each great dame</span> -<span class="i0">And sovereign beauty bade adieu to shame?</span> -<span class="i0">Or did the storm, that thy wreck’d pinnace bore,</span> -<span class="i0">Impel thee gasping on some unknown shore;</span> -<span class="i0">Where, when thy beard and nails were savage grown,</span> -<span class="i0">Some swarthy princess took thee for her own, <span class="linenum">170</span></span> -<span class="i0">Some danger-dreading Yarico, who, kind,</span> -<span class="i0">Sent thee away, and, prudent, staid behind?</span> -<span class="i2">“Come—I am ready wonders to receive,</span> -<span class="i0">Prone to assent, and willing to believe.”</span> -<span class="i2">Richard replied: “It must be known to you,</span> -<span class="i0">That tales improbable may yet be true;</span> -<span class="i0">And yet it is a foolish thing to tell</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_338" id="Page_338">[Pg 338]</a></span> -<span class="i0">A tale that shall be judged improbable;</span> -<span class="i0">While some impossibilities appear</span> -<span class="i0">So like the truth, that we assenting hear: <span class="linenum">180</span></span> -<span class="i0">Yet, with your leave, I venture to relate</span> -<span class="i0">A chance-affair, and fact alone will state;</span> -<span class="i0">Though, I confess, it may suspicion breed,</span> -<span class="i0">And you may cry, ‘improbable, indeed!’</span> -</div></div> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i2">“When first I tried the sea, I took a trip,</span> -<span class="i0">But duty none, in a relation’s ship;</span> -<span class="i0">Thus, unengaged, I felt my spirits light,</span> -<span class="i0">Kept care at distance, and put fear to flight;</span> -<span class="i0">Oft this same spirit in my friends prevail’d,</span> -<span class="i0">Buoyant in dangers, rising when assail’d; <span class="linenum">190</span></span> -<span class="i0">When, as the gale at evening died away—</span> -<span class="i0">And die it will with the retiring day—</span> -<span class="i0">Impatient then, and sick of very ease,</span> -<span class="i0">We loudly whistled for the slumbering breeze.</span> -<span class="i2">“One eve it came; and, frantic in my joy,</span> -<span class="i0">I rose and danced, as idle as a boy:</span> -<span class="i0">The cabin-lights were down, that we might learn</span> -<span class="i0">A trifling something from the ship astern;</span> -<span class="i0">The stiffening gale bore up the growing wave,</span> -<span class="i0">And wilder motion to my madness gave. <span class="linenum">200</span></span> -<span class="i0">Oft have I since, when thoughtful and at rest,</span> -<span class="i0">Believed some maddening power my mind possess’d;</span> -<span class="i0">For, in an instant, as the stern sank low,</span> -<span class="i0">(How moved I knew not—What can madness know?)</span> -<span class="i0">Chance that direction to my motion gave,</span> -<span class="i0">And plunged me headlong in the roaring wave;</span> -<span class="i0">Swift flew the parting ship,—the fainter light</span> -<span class="i0">Withdrew,—or horror took them from my sight.</span> -<span class="i2">“All was confused above, beneath, around;</span> -<span class="i0">All sounds of terror; no distinguish’d sound <span class="linenum">210</span></span> -<span class="i0">Could reach me, now on sweeping surges tost,</span> -<span class="i0">And then between the rising billows lost;</span> -<span class="i0">An undefined sensation stopp’d my breath;</span> -<span class="i0">Disorder’d views and threat’ning signs of death</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_339" id="Page_339">[Pg 339]</a></span> -<span class="i0">Met in one moment, and a terror gave—</span> -<span class="i0">I cannot paint it—to the moving grave.</span> -<span class="i0">My thoughts were all distressing, hurried, mix’d,</span> -<span class="i0">On all things fixing, not a moment fix’d,</span> -<span class="i0">Vague thoughts of instant danger brought their pain,</span> -<span class="i0">New hopes of safety banish’d them again; <span class="linenum">220</span></span> -<span class="i0">Then the swoln billow all these hopes destroy’d,</span> -<span class="i0">And left me sinking in the mighty void.</span> -<span class="i0">Weaker I grew, and grew the more dismay’d,</span> -<span class="i0">Of aid all hopeless, yet in search of aid;</span> -<span class="i0">Struggling awhile upon the wave to keep,</span> -<span class="i0">Then, languid, sinking in the yawning deep.</span> -<span class="i0">So tost, so lost, so sinking in despair,</span> -<span class="i0">I pray’d in heart an indirected prayer,</span> -<span class="i0">And then once more I gave my eyes to view</span> -<span class="i0">The ship now lost, and bade the light adieu! <span class="linenum">230</span></span> -<span class="i0">From my chill’d frame th’ enfeebled spirit fled, <span class="ws7">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Rose the tall billows round my deep’ning bed, <span class="ws8">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Cold seized my heart, thought ceased, and I was dead. }</span> -<span class="i2">“Brother, I have not—man has not, the power</span> -<span class="i0">To paint the horrors of that life-long hour—</span> -<span class="i0">Hour!—but of time I knew not—when I found</span> -<span class="i0">Hope, youth, life, love, and all they promised, drown’d;</span> -<span class="i0">When all so indistinct, so undefined,</span> -<span class="i0">So dark and dreadful, overcame the mind;</span> -<span class="i0">When such confusion on the spirit dwelt, <span class="linenum">240</span></span> -<span class="i0">That, feeling much, it knew not what it felt.</span> -<span class="i2">“Can I, my brother—ought I to forget</span> -<span class="i0">That night of terror? No! it threatens yet.</span> -<span class="i0">Shall I days, months—nay, years indeed neglect,</span> -<span class="i0">Who then could feel what moments must effect,</span> -<span class="i0">Were aught effected? who, in that wild storm,</span> -<span class="i0">Found there was nothing I could well perform;</span> -<span class="i0">For what to us are moments, what are hours,</span> -<span class="i0">If lost our judgment, and confused our powers?</span> -<span class="i2">“Oft in the times when passion strives to reign, <span class="linenum">250</span></span> -<span class="i0">When duty feebly holds the slacken’d chain,</span> -<span class="i0">When reason slumbers, then remembrance draws<span class="ws7">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">This view of death, and folly makes a pause—<span class="ws9">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">The view o’ercomes the vice, the fear the frenzy awes.  }</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_340" id="Page_340">[Pg 340]</a></span> -<span class="i2">“I know there wants not this to make it true,</span> -<span class="i0">‘What danger bids be done, in safety do’;</span> -<span class="i0">Yet such escapes may make our purpose sure;</span> -<span class="i0">Who slights such warning may be too secure.”</span> -<span class="i2">“But the escape!”—“Whate’er they judged might save</span> -<span class="i0">Their sinking friend they cast upon the wave; <span class="linenum">260</span></span> -<span class="i0">Something of these my heaven-directed arm</span> -<span class="i0">Unconscious seized, and held as by a charm;</span> -<span class="i0">The crew astern beheld me as I swam,</span> -<span class="i0">And I am saved—O! let me say I am.”</span> -</div></div> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i2">“Brother,” said George, “I have neglected long</span> -<span class="i0">To think of all thy perils—it was wrong;</span> -<span class="i0">But do forgive me; for I could not be</span> -<span class="i0">Than of myself more negligent of thee.</span> -<span class="i0">Now tell me, Richard, from the boyish years</span> -<span class="i0">Of thy young mind, that now so rich appears, <span class="linenum">270</span></span> -<span class="i0">How was it stored? ’twas told me, thou wert wild,</span> -<span class="i0">A truant urchin, a neglected child.</span> -<span class="i0">I heard of this escape, and sat supine</span> -<span class="i0">Amid the danger that exceeded thine;</span> -<span class="i0">Thou couldst but die—the waves could but infold</span> -<span class="i0">Thy warm, gay heart, and make that bosom cold—</span> -<span class="i0">While I—but no! Proceed, and give me truth;</span> -<span class="i0">How past the years of thy unguided youth?</span> -<span class="i0">Thy father left thee to the care of one</span> -<span class="i0">Who could not teach, could ill support a son; <span class="linenum">280</span></span> -<span class="i0">Yet time and trouble feeble minds have stay’d,</span> -<span class="i0">And fit for long-neglected duties made.</span> -<span class="i0">I see thee struggling in the world, as late</span> -<span class="i0">Within the waves, and, with an equal fate,</span> -<span class="i0">By Heaven preserved—but tell me, whence and how</span> -<span class="i0">Thy gleaning came?—a dexterous gleaner thou!”</span> -<span class="i2">“Left by that father, who was known to few,</span> -<span class="i0">And to that mother, who has not her due</span> -<span class="i0">Of honest fame,” said Richard, “our retreat</span> -<span class="i0">Was a small cottage, for our station meet, <span class="linenum">290</span></span> -<span class="i0">On Barford Downs; that mother, fond and poor,</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_341" id="Page_341">[Pg 341]</a></span> -<span class="i0">There taught some truths, and bade me seek for more,</span> -<span class="i0">Such as our village-school and books a few</span> -<span class="i0">Supplied; but such I cared not to pursue.</span> -<span class="i0">I sought the town, and to the ocean gave</span> -<span class="i0">My mind and thoughts, as restless as the wave;</span> -<span class="i0">Where crowds assembled, I was sure to run,</span> -<span class="i0">Hear[d] what was said, and mused on what was done;</span> -<span class="i0">Attentive listening in the moving scene,</span> -<span class="i0">And often wondering what the men could mean. <span class="linenum">300</span></span> -<span class="i2">“When ships at sea made signals of their need,</span> -<span class="i0">I watch’d on shore the sailors, and their speed;</span> -<span class="i0">Mix’d in their act, nor rested till I knew</span> -<span class="i0">Why they were call’d, and what they were to do.</span> -<span class="i2">“Whatever business in the port was done,</span> -<span class="i0">I, without call, was with the busy one;</span> -<span class="i0">Not daring question, but with open ear</span> -<span class="i0">And greedy spirit, ever bent to hear.</span> -<span class="i2">“To me the wives of seamen loved to tell</span> -<span class="i0">What storms endanger’d men esteem’d so well; <span class="linenum">310</span></span> -<span class="i0">What wond’rous things in foreign parts they saw,</span> -<span class="i0">Lands without bounds, and people without law.</span> -<span class="i2">“No ships were wreck’d upon that fatal beach,</span> -<span class="i0">But I could give the luckless tale of each;</span> -<span class="i0">Eager I look’d, till I beheld a face</span> -<span class="i0">Of one disposed to paint their dismal case;</span> -<span class="i0">Who gave the sad survivors’ doleful tale,</span> -<span class="i0">From the first brushing of the mighty gale</span> -<span class="i0">Until they struck; and, suffering in their fate,</span> -<span class="i0">I long’d the more they should its horrors state; <span class="linenum">320</span></span> -<span class="i0">While some, the fond of pity, would enjoy</span> -<span class="i0">The earnest sorrows of the feeling boy.</span> -<span class="i2">“I sought the men return’d from regions cold,</span> -<span class="i0">The frozen straits, where icy mountains roll’d;</span> -<span class="i0">Some I could win to tell me serious tales</span> -<span class="i0">Of boats uplifted by enormous whales,</span> -<span class="i0">Or, when harpoon’d, how swiftly through the sea</span> -<span class="i0">The wounded monsters with the cordage flee.</span> -<span class="i0">Yet some uneasy thoughts assail’d me then:</span> -<span class="i0">The monsters warr’d not with, nor wounded, men. <span class="linenum">330</span></span> -<span class="i0">The smaller fry we take, with scales and fins,</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_342" id="Page_342">[Pg 342]</a></span> -<span class="i0">Who gasp and die—this adds not to our sins;</span> -<span class="i0">But so much blood, warm life, and frames so large</span> -<span class="i0">To strike, to murder—seem’d an heavy charge.</span> -<span class="i2">“They told of days, where many goes to one—</span> -<span class="i0">Such days as ours; and how a larger sun,</span> -<span class="i0">Red, but not flaming, roll’d, with motion slow,</span> -<span class="i0">On the world’s edge, and never dropt below.</span> -<span class="i2">“There were fond girls, who took me to their side</span> -<span class="i0">To tell the story how their lovers died; <span class="linenum">340</span></span> -<span class="i0">They praised my tender heart, and bade me prove</span> -<span class="i0">Both kind and constant when I came to love.</span> -<span class="i0">In fact, I lived for many an idle year</span> -<span class="i0">In fond pursuit of agitations dear;</span> -<span class="i0">For ever seeking, ever pleased to find,</span> -<span class="i0">The food I loved, I thought not of its kind;</span> -<span class="i0">It gave affliction while it brought delight,</span> -<span class="i0">And joy and anguish could at once excite.</span> -<span class="i2">“One gusty day, now stormy and now still,</span> -<span class="i0">I stood apart upon the western hill, <span class="linenum">350</span></span> -<span class="i0">And saw a race at sea: a gun was heard,</span> -<span class="i0">And two contending boats in sail appear’d,</span> -<span class="i0">Equal awhile; then one was left behind,</span> -<span class="i0">And for a moment had her chance resign’d,</span> -<span class="i0">When, in that moment, up a sail they drew—</span> -<span class="i0">Not used before—their rivals to pursue.</span> -<span class="i0">Strong was the gale! in hurry now there came</span> -<span class="i0">Men from the town, their thoughts, their fears the same;</span> -<span class="i0">And women too! affrighted maids and wives,</span> -<span class="i0">All deeply feeling for their sailors’ lives. <span class="linenum">360</span></span> -<span class="i2">“The strife continued; in a glass we saw</span> -<span class="i0">The desperate efforts, and we stood in awe:</span> -<span class="i0">When the last boat shot suddenly before,</span> -<span class="i0">Then fill’d, and sank—and could be seen no more!</span> -<span class="i2">“Then were those piercing shrieks, that frantic flight,</span> -<span class="i0">All hurried! all in tumult and affright!</span> -<span class="i0">A gathering crowd from different streets drew near;</span> -<span class="i0">All ask, all answer—none attend, none hear!</span> -<span class="i2">“One boat is safe; and see! she backs her sail</span> -<span class="i0">To save the sinking—Will her care avail? <span class="linenum">370</span></span> -<span class="i2">“O! how impatient on the sands we tread,</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_343" id="Page_343">[Pg 343]</a></span> -<span class="i0">And the winds roaring, and the women led,</span> -<span class="i0">As up and down they pace with frantic air,</span> -<span class="i0">And scorn a comforter, and will despair;</span> -<span class="i0">They know not who in either boat is gone,</span> -<span class="i0">But think the father, husband, lover, one.</span> -<span class="i2">“And who is she apart? She dares not come</span> -<span class="i0">To join the crowd, yet cannot rest at home:</span> -<span class="i0">With what strong interest looks she at the waves,</span> -<span class="i0">Meeting and clashing o’er the seamen’s graves: <span class="linenum">380</span></span> -<span class="i0">’Tis a poor girl betroth’d—a few hours more,</span> -<span class="i0">And <i>he</i> will lie a corpse upon the shore.</span> -<span class="i2">“Strange, that a boy could love these scenes, and cry</span> -<span class="i0">In very pity—but that boy was I.</span> -<span class="i0">With pain my mother would my tales receive,</span> -<span class="i0">And say, ‘my Richard, do not learn to grieve.’</span> -<span class="i2">“One wretched hour had past before we knew</span> -<span class="i0">Whom they had saved! Alas! they were but two,</span> -<span class="i0">An orphan’d lad and widow’d man—no more!</span> -<span class="i0">And they unnoticed stood upon the shore, <span class="linenum">390</span></span> -<span class="i0">With scarce a friend to greet them—widows view’d</span> -<span class="i0">This man and boy, and then their cries renew’d;—</span> -<span class="i0">’Twas long before the signs of wo gave place</span> -<span class="i0">To joy again; grief sat on every face.</span> -<span class="i2">“Sure of my mother’s kindness, and the joy</span> -<span class="i0">She felt in meeting her rebellious boy,</span> -<span class="i0">I at my pleasure our new seat forsook,</span> -<span class="i0">And, undirected, these excursions took:</span> -<span class="i0">I often rambled to the noisy quay,</span> -<span class="i0">Strange sounds to hear, and business strange to me; <span class="linenum">400</span></span> -<span class="i0">Seamen and carmen, and I know not who,</span> -<span class="i0">A lewd, amphibious, rude, contentious crew—</span> -<span class="i0">Confused as bees appear about their hive,</span> -<span class="i0">Yet all alert to keep their work alive.</span> -<span class="i2">“Here, unobserved as weed upon the wave,</span> -<span class="i0">My whole attention to the scene I gave;</span> -<span class="i0">I saw their tasks, their toil, their care, their skill,</span> -<span class="i0">Led by their own and by a master-will;</span> -<span class="i0">And, though contending, toiling, tugging on,</span> -<span class="i0">The purposed business of the day was done. <span class="linenum">410</span></span> -<span class="i2">“The open shops of craftsmen caught my eye,</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_344" id="Page_344">[Pg 344]</a></span> -<span class="i0">And there my questions met the kind reply:</span> -<span class="i0">Men, when alone, will teach; but, in a crowd,</span> -<span class="i0">The child is silent, or the man is proud;</span> -<span class="i0">But, by themselves, there is attention paid</span> -<span class="i0">To a mild boy, so forward, yet afraid.</span> -<span class="i2">“I made me interest at the inn’s fire-side,</span> -<span class="i0">Amid the scenes to bolder boys denied;</span> -<span class="i0">For I had patrons there, and I was one,</span> -<span class="i0">They judged, who noticed nothing that was done. <span class="linenum">420</span></span> -<span class="i0">‘A quiet lad!’ would my protector say;</span> -<span class="i0">‘To him, now, this is better than his play:</span> -<span class="i0">Boys are as men; some active, shrewd, and keen,</span> -<span class="i0">They look about if aught is to be seen;</span> -<span class="i0">And some, like Richard here, have not a mind</span> -<span class="i0">That takes a notice—but the lad is kind.’</span> -<span class="i2">“I loved in summer on the heath to walk,</span> -<span class="i0">And seek the shepherd—shepherds love to talk.</span> -<span class="i0">His superstition was of ranker kind,</span> -<span class="i0">And he with tales of wonder stored my mind; <span class="linenum">430</span></span> -<span class="i0">Wonders that he in many a lonely eve</span> -<span class="i0">Had seen, himself, and therefore must believe.</span> -<span class="i0">His boy, his Joe, he said, from duty ran,</span> -<span class="i0">Took to the sea, and grew a fearless man:</span> -<span class="i0">‘On yonder knoll—the sheep were in the fold—</span> -<span class="i0">His spirit past me, shivering-like and cold!</span> -<span class="i0">I felt a fluttering, but I knew not how,</span> -<span class="i0">And heard him utter, like a whisper, ‘now!’</span> -<span class="i0">Soon came a letter from a friend—to tell</span> -<span class="i0">That he had fallen, and the time he fell.’ <span class="linenum">440</span></span> -<span class="i2">“Even to the smugglers’ hut the rocks between,</span> -<span class="i0">I have, adventurous in my wandering, been.</span> -<span class="i0">Poor, pious Martha served the lawless tribe,</span> -<span class="i0">And could their merits and their faults describe;</span> -<span class="i0">Adding her thoughts; ‘I talk, my child, to you,</span> -<span class="i0">Who little think of what such wretches do.’</span> -<span class="i2">“I loved to walk where none had walk’d before,</span> -<span class="i0">About the rocks that ran along the shore;</span> -<span class="i0">Or far beyond the sight of men to stray,</span> -<span class="i0">And take my pleasure when I lost my way; <span class="linenum">450</span></span> -<span class="i0">For then ’twas mine to trace the hilly heath,</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_345" id="Page_345">[Pg 345]</a></span> -<span class="i0">And all the mossy moor that lies beneath:</span> -<span class="i0">Here had I favourite stations, where I stood</span> -<span class="i0">And heard the murmurs of the ocean-flood,</span> -<span class="i0">With not a sound beside, except when flew</span> -<span class="i0">Aloft the lapwing, or the gray curlew,</span> -<span class="i0">Who with wild notes my fancied power defied,</span> -<span class="i0">And mock’d the dreams of solitary pride.</span> -<span class="i2">“I loved to stop at every creek and bay</span> -<span class="i0">Made by the river in its winding way, <span class="linenum">460</span></span> -<span class="i0">And call to memory—not by marks they bare,</span> -<span class="i0">But by the thoughts that were created there.</span> -<span class="i2">“Pleasant it was to view the sea-gulls strive</span> -<span class="i0">Against the storm, or in the ocean dive,</span> -<span class="i0">With eager scream, or when they dropping gave</span> -<span class="i0">Their closing wings to sail upon the wave:</span> -<span class="i0">Then, as the winds and waters raged around,</span> -<span class="i0">And breaking billows mix’d their deafening sound,</span> -<span class="i0">They on the rolling deep securely hung,</span> -<span class="i0">And calmly rode the restless waves among. <span class="linenum">470</span></span> -<span class="i0">Nor pleased it less around me to behold,</span> -<span class="i0">Far up the beach, the yesty sea-foam roll’d;</span> -<span class="i0">Or, from the shore upborn, to see on high</span> -<span class="i0">Its frothy flakes in wild confusion fly;</span> -<span class="i0">While the salt spray that clashing billows form,</span> -<span class="i0">Gave to the taste a feeling of the storm.</span> -<span class="i2">“Thus, with my favourite views, for many an hour</span> -<span class="i0">Have I indulged the dreams of princely power;</span> -<span class="i0">When the mind, weaned by excursions bold,</span> -<span class="i0">The fancy jaded, and the bosom cold, <span class="linenum">480</span></span> -<span class="i0">Or when those wants that will on kings intrude,</span> -<span class="i0">Or evening-fears, broke in on solitude;</span> -<span class="i0">When I no more my fancy could employ, <span class="ws4">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">I left in haste what I could not enjoy,<span class="ws8">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">And was my gentle mother’s welcome boy.  }</span> -<span class="i2">“But now thy walk,—this soft autumnal gloom</span> -<span class="i0">Bids no delay—at night I will resume</span> -<span class="i0">My subject, showing, not how I improved</span> -<span class="i0">In my strange school, but what the things I loved,</span> -<span class="i0">My first-born friendships, ties by forms uncheck’d, <span class="linenum">490</span></span> -<span class="i0">And all that boys acquire whom men neglect.”</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_346" id="Page_346">[Pg 346]</a></span> -</div></div></div> - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> -<p class="f150"><b>TALES OF THE HALL.</b></p> -<h3>BOOK V.</h3> -<p class="f110"><i>RUTH.</i></p> -</div> - -<p class="blockquot"> -Richard resumes his Narrative—Visits a Family in a Seaport—The Man -and his Wife—Their Dwelling—Books, Number and Kind—The -Friendship contracted—Employment there—Hannah, the Wife, her -Manner; open Mirth and latent Grief—She gives the Story of Ruth, -her Daughter—Of Thomas, a Sailor—Their Affection—A Press-gang— -Reflections—Ruth disturbed in Mind—A Teacher sent to -comfort her—His Fondness—Her Reception of him—Her Supplication— -Is refused—She deliberates—Is decided. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_347" id="Page_347">[Pg 347]</a></span></p> - -<p class="f150 break space-above2"><b>TALES OF THE HALL.</b></p> -<p class="f120"><b>BOOK V.</b></p> -<p class="f110"><i>RUTH.</i></p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poem2"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Richard would wait till George the tale should ask,</span> -<span class="i0">Nor waited long—He then resumed the task.</span> -<span class="i2">“South in the port, and eastward in the street,</span> -<span class="i0">Rose a small dwelling, my beloved retreat,</span> -<span class="i0">Where lived a pair, then old; the sons had fled</span> -<span class="i0">The home they fill’d; a part of them were dead,</span> -<span class="i0">Married a part, while some at sea remain’d,</span> -<span class="i0">And stillness in the seaman’s mansion reign’d;</span> -<span class="i0">Lord of some petty craft, by night and day,</span> -<span class="i0">The man had fish’d each fathom of the bay. <span class="linenum">10</span></span> -<span class="i2">“My friend the matron woo’d me, quickly won,</span> -<span class="i0">To fill the station of an absent son</span> -<span class="i0">(Him whom at school I knew, and, Peter known,</span> -<span class="i0">I took his home and mother for my own).</span> -<span class="i0">I read, and doubly was I paid to hear</span> -<span class="i0">Events that fell upon no listless ear:</span> -<span class="i0">She grieved to say her parents could neglect</span> -<span class="i0">Her education!—’twas a sore defect;</span> -<span class="i0">She, who had ever such a vast delight</span> -<span class="i0">To learn, and now could neither read nor write:— <span class="linenum">20</span></span> -<span class="i0">But hear she could, and from our stores I took,</span> -<span class="i0">Librarian meet! at her desire our book.</span> -<span class="i0">Full twenty volumes—I would not exceed</span> -<span class="i0">The modest truth—were there for me to read;</span> -<span class="i0">These a long shelf contain’d, and they were found</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_348" id="Page_348">[Pg 348]</a></span> -<span class="i0">Books truly speaking, volumes fairly bound;</span> -<span class="i0">The rest—for some of other kinds remain’d,</span> -<span class="i0">And these a board beneath the shelf contain’d—</span> -<span class="i0">Had their deficiencies in part; they lack’d</span> -<span class="i0">One side or both, or were no longer back’d; <span class="linenum">30</span></span> -<span class="i0">But now became degraded from their place,</span> -<span class="i0">And were but pamphlets of a bulkier race.</span> -<span class="i0">Yet had we pamphlets, an inviting store,</span> -<span class="i0">From sixpence downwards—nay, a part were more;</span> -<span class="i0">Learning abundance, and the various kinds</span> -<span class="i0">For relaxation—food for different minds;</span> -<span class="i0">A piece of Wingate—thanks for all we have—</span> -<span class="i0">What we of figures needed, fully gave;</span> -<span class="i0">Culpepper, new in numbers, cost but thrice</span> -<span class="i0">The ancient volume’s unassuming price, <span class="linenum">40</span></span> -<span class="i0">But told what planet o’er each herb had power,</span> -<span class="i0">And how to take it in the lucky hour.</span> -<span class="i2">“History we had—wars, treasons, treaties, crimes,</span> -<span class="i0">From Julius Cæsar to the present times;</span> -<span class="i0">Questions and answers, teaching what to ask</span> -<span class="i0">And what reply—a kind, laborious task;</span> -<span class="i0">A scholar’s book it was, who, giving, swore</span> -<span class="i0">It held the whole he wish’d to know, and more.</span> -<span class="i2">“And we had poets, hymns and songs divine;</span> -<span class="i0">The most we read not, but allow’d them fine. <span class="linenum">50</span></span> -<span class="i2">“Our tracts were many, on the boldest themes—</span> -<span class="i0">We had our metaphysics, spirits, dreams,</span> -<span class="i0">Visions and warnings, and portentous sights</span> -<span class="i0">Seen, though but dimly, in the doleful nights,</span> -<span class="i0">When the good wife her wintry vigil keeps,</span> -<span class="i0">And thinks alone of him at sea, and weeps.</span> -<span class="i2">“Add to all these our works in single sheets,</span> -<span class="i0">That our Cassandras sing about the streets.</span> -<span class="i0">These, as I read, the grave good man would say,</span> -<span class="i0">‘Nay, Hannah!’ and she answer’d ‘What is Nay? <span class="linenum">60</span></span> -<span class="i0">What is there, pray, so hurtful in a song?</span> -<span class="i0">It is our fancy only makes it wrong;</span> -<span class="i0">His purer mind no evil thoughts alarm,</span> -<span class="i0">And innocence protects him like a charm.’</span> -<span class="i0">Then would the matron, when the song had past,</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_349" id="Page_349">[Pg 349]</a></span> -<span class="i0">And her laugh over, ask an hymn at last;</span> -<span class="i0">To the coarse jest she would attention lend,</span> -<span class="i0">And to the pious psalm in reverence bend.</span> -<span class="i0">She gave her every power and all her mind</span> -<span class="i0">As chance directed, or as taste inclined. <span class="linenum">70</span></span> -<span class="i2">“More of our learning I will now omit:<span class="ws10">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">We had our Cyclopædias of Wit, <span class="ws16">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">And all our works, rare fate, were to our genius fit. }</span> -<span class="i2">“When I had read, and we were weary grown</span> -<span class="i0">Of other minds, the dame disclosed her own;</span> -<span class="i0">And long have I in pleasing terror stay’d <span class="ws6"> }</span></span> -<span class="i0">To hear of boys trepann’d, and girls betray’d;  }</span> -<span class="i0">Ashamed so long to stay, and yet to go afraid.  }</span> -<span class="i2">“I could perceive, though Hannah bore full well</span> -<span class="i0">The ills of life, that few with her would dwell, <span class="linenum">80</span></span> -<span class="i0">But pass away, like shadows o’er the plain</span> -<span class="i0">From flying clouds, and leave it fair again;</span> -<span class="i0">Still every evil, be it great or small,</span> -<span class="i0">Would one past sorrow to the mind recal—</span> -<span class="i0">The grand disease of life, to which she turns,</span> -<span class="i0">And common cares and lighter suffering spurns.</span> -<span class="i0">‘O! these are nothing,—they will never heed</span> -<span class="i0">Such idle contests who have fought indeed,</span> -<span class="i0">And have the wounds unclosed.’—I understood</span> -<span class="i0">My hint to speak, and my design pursued, <span class="linenum">90</span></span> -<span class="i0">Curious the secret of that heart to find, <span class="ws10">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">To mirth, to song, to laughter loud inclined, <span class="ws6">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">And yet to bear and feel a weight of grief behind. }</span> -<span class="i0">How does she thus her little sunshine throw</span> -<span class="i0">Always before her?—I should like to know.</span> -<span class="i0">My friend perceived, and would no longer hide <span class="ws5">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">The bosom’s sorrow—Could she not confide <span class="ws7">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">In one who wept, unhurt—in one who felt, untried?  }</span> -<span class="i2">‘Dear child, I show you sins and sufferings strange,</span> -<span class="i0">But you, like Adam, must for knowledge change <span class="linenum">100</span></span> -<span class="i0">That blissful ignorance: remember, then,</span> -<span class="i0">What now you feel should be a check on men;</span> -<span class="i0">For then your passions no debate allow,</span> -<span class="i0">And therefore lay up resolution now.</span> -<span class="i0">’Tis not enough, that when you can persuade</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_350" id="Page_350">[Pg 350]</a></span> -<span class="i0">A maid to love, you know there’s promise made;</span> -<span class="i0">’Tis not enough, that you design to keep</span> -<span class="i0">That promise made, nor leave your lass to weep:</span> -<span class="i0">But you must guard yourself against the sin,</span> -<span class="i0">And think it such to draw the party in; <span class="linenum">110</span></span> -<span class="i0">Nay, the more weak and easy to be won,</span> -<span class="i0">The viler you who have the mischief done.</span> -<span class="i2">I am not angry, love; but men should know</span> -<span class="i0">They cannot always pay the debt they owe</span> -<span class="i0">Their plighted honour; they may cause the ill</span> -<span class="i0">They cannot lessen, though they feel a will;</span> -<span class="i0">For <i>he</i> had truth with love, but love in youth</span> -<span class="i0">Does wrong, that cannot be repair’d by truth.</span> -<span class="i2">Ruth—I may tell, too oft had she been told—</span> -<span class="i0">Was tall and fair, and comely to behold; <span class="linenum">120</span></span> -<span class="i0">Gentle and simple, in her native place</span> -<span class="i0">Not one compared with her in form or face;</span> -<span class="i0">She was not merry, but she gave our hearth</span> -<span class="i0">A cheerful spirit that was more than mirth.</span> -<span class="i2">There was a sailor boy, and people said</span> -<span class="i0">He was, as man, a likeness of the maid;</span> -<span class="i0">But not in this—for he was ever glad,</span> -<span class="i0">While Ruth was apprehensive, mild, and sad;</span> -<span class="i0">A quiet spirit hers, and peace would seek</span> -<span class="i0">In meditation—tender, mild, and meek! <span class="linenum">130</span></span> -<span class="i0">Her loved the lad most truly; and, in truth,</span> -<span class="i0">She took an early liking to the youth;</span> -<span class="i0">To her alone were his attentions paid,</span> -<span class="i0">And they became the bachelor and maid.</span> -<span class="i0">He wish’d to marry; but so prudent we</span> -<span class="i0">And worldly wise, we said it could not be.</span> -<span class="i0">They took the counsel—may be they approved—</span> -<span class="i0">But still they grieved and waited, hoped and loved.</span> -<span class="i2">Now, my young friend, when of such state I speak</span> -<span class="i0">As one of danger, you will be to seek: <span class="linenum">140</span></span> -<span class="i0">You know not, Richard, where the danger lies</span> -<span class="i0">In loving hearts, kind words, and speaking eyes;</span> -<span class="i0">For lovers speak their wishes with their looks</span> -<span class="i0">As plainly, love, as you can read your books.</span> -<span class="i0">Then, too, the meetings and the partings, all</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_351" id="Page_351">[Pg 351]</a></span> -<span class="i0">The playful quarrels in which lovers fall,</span> -<span class="i0">Serve to one end—each lover is a child,</span> -<span class="i0">Quick to resent and to be reconciled;</span> -<span class="i0">And then their peace brings kindness that remains,</span> -<span class="i0">And so the lover from the quarrel gains. <span class="linenum">150</span></span> -<span class="i0">When he has fault that she reproves, his fear</span> -<span class="i0">And grief assure her she was too severe:</span> -<span class="i0">And that brings kindness—when he bears an ill,   }</span> -<span class="i0">Or disappointment, and is calm and still, <span class="ws10">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">She feels his own obedient to her will:<span class="ws12">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">And that brings kindness—and what kindness brings</span> -<span class="i0">I cannot tell you;—these were trying things.</span> -<span class="i0">They were as children, and they fell at length;</span> -<span class="i0">The trial, doubtless, is beyond their strength</span> -<span class="i0">Whom grace supports not; and will grace support <span class="linenum">160</span></span> -<span class="i0">The too confiding, who their danger court?</span> -<span class="i0">Then they would marry—but were now too late—</span> -<span class="i0">All could their fault in sport or malice state;</span> -<span class="i0">And though the day was fix’d, and now drew on,</span> -<span class="i0">I could perceive my daughter’s peace was gone;</span> -<span class="i0">She could not bear the bold and laughing eye <span class="ws12">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">That gazed on her—reproach she could not fly; <span class="ws10">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Her grief she would not show, her shame could not deny;  }</span> -<span class="i0">For some with many virtues come to shame,</span> -<span class="i0">And some that lose them all preserve their name. <span class="linenum">170</span></span> -<span class="i2">“‘Fix’d was the day; but ere that day appear’d,</span> -<span class="i0">A frightful rumour through the place was heard;</span> -<span class="i0">War, who had slept awhile, awaked once more,</span> -<span class="i0">And gangs came pressing till they swept the shore:</span> -<span class="i0">Our youth was seized and quickly sent away,</span> -<span class="i0">Nor would the wretches for his marriage stay,</span> -<span class="i0">But bore him off, in barbarous triumph bore,</span> -<span class="i0">And left us all our miseries to deplore.</span> -<span class="i0">There were wives, maids, and mothers on the beach,</span> -<span class="i0">And some sad story appertain’d to each; <span class="linenum">180</span></span> -<span class="i0">Most sad to Ruth—to neither could she go!</span> -<span class="i0">But sat apart, and suffer’d matchless wo!</span> -<span class="i0">On the vile ship they turn’d their earnest view, <span class="ws7">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Not one last [look] allow’d,—not one adieu!<span class="ws9">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">They saw the men on deck, but none distinctly knew. }</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_352" id="Page_352">[Pg 352]</a></span> -<span class="i0">And there she staid, regardless of each eye,</span> -<span class="i0">With but one hope, a fervent hope to die.</span> -<span class="i0">Nor cared she now for kindness—all beheld</span> -<span class="i0">Her, who invited none, and none repell’d;</span> -<span class="i0">For there are griefs, my child, that sufferers hide, <span class="linenum">190</span></span> -<span class="i0">And there are griefs that men display with pride;</span> -<span class="i0">But there are other griefs that, so we feel,</span> -<span class="i0">We care not to display them nor conceal:</span> -<span class="i0">Such were our sorrows on that fatal day,</span> -<span class="i0">More than our lives the spoilers tore away;</span> -<span class="i0">Nor did we heed their insult—some distress <span class="ws5">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">No form or manner can make more or less,<span class="ws6">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">And this is of that kind—this misery of a press!  }</span> -<span class="i2">‘They say such things must be—perhaps they must;</span> -<span class="i0">But, sure, they need not fright us and disgust; <span class="linenum">200</span></span> -<span class="i0">They need not soul-less crews of ruffians send</span> -<span class="i0">At once the ties of humble love to rend.</span> -<span class="i0">A single day had Thomas stay’d on shore,</span> -<span class="i0">He might have wedded, and we ask’d no more;</span> -<span class="i0">And that stern man, who forced the lad away,</span> -<span class="i0">Might have attended, and have graced the day;</span> -<span class="i0">His pride and honour might have been at rest,</span> -<span class="i0">It is no stain to make a couple blest!</span> -<span class="i0">Blest!—no, alas! it was to ease the heart</span> -<span class="i0">Of one sore pang, and then to weep and part! <span class="linenum">210</span></span> -<span class="i0">But this he would not.—English seamen fight</span> -<span class="i0">For England’s gain and glory—it is right;</span> -<span class="i0">But will that public spirit be so strong,</span> -<span class="i0">Fill’d, as it must be, with their private wrong?</span> -<span class="i0">Forbid it, honour, one in all the fleet</span> -<span class="i0">Should hide in war, or from the foe retreat!</span> -<span class="i0">But is it just, that he who so defends</span> -<span class="i0">His country’s cause, should hide him from her friends?</span> -<span class="i0">Sure, if they must upon our children seize,</span> -<span class="i0">They might prevent such injuries as these; <span class="linenum">220</span></span> -<span class="i0">Might hours—nay, days—in many a case allow,</span> -<span class="i0">And soften all the griefs we suffer now.</span> -<span class="i0">Some laws, some orders might in part redress</span> -<span class="i0">The licensed insults of a British press,</span> -<span class="i0">That keeps the honest and the brave in awe,</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_353" id="Page_353">[Pg 353]</a></span> -<span class="i0">Where might is right, and violence is law.</span> -<span class="i2">‘Be not alarm’d, my child; there’s none regard</span> -<span class="i0">What you and I conceive so cruel-hard:</span> -<span class="i0">There is compassion, I believe; but still</span> -<span class="i0">One wants the power to help, and one the will, <span class="linenum">230</span></span> -<span class="i0">And so from war to war the wrongs remain,</span> -<span class="i0">While Reason pleads, and Misery sighs, in vain.</span> -<span class="i2">‘Thus my poor Ruth was wretched and undone,</span> -<span class="i0">Nor had an husband for her only son,</span> -<span class="i0">Nor had he father; hope she did awhile,</span> -<span class="i0">And would not weep, although she could not smile;</span> -<span class="i0">Till news was brought us that the youth was slain,</span> -<span class="i0">And then, I think, she never smiled again;</span> -<span class="i0">Or if she did, it was but to express</span> -<span class="i0">A feeling far, indeed, from happiness! <span class="linenum">240</span></span> -<span class="i0">Something that her bewilder’d mind conceived,</span> -<span class="i0">When she inform’d us that she never grieved,</span> -<span class="i0">But was right merry, then her head was wild,</span> -<span class="i0">And grief had gain’d possession of my child.</span> -<span class="i0">Yet, though bewilder’d for a time, and prone</span> -<span class="i0">To ramble much and speak aloud, alone;</span> -<span class="i0">Yet did she all that duty ever ask’d</span> -<span class="i0">And more, her will self-govern’d and untask’d.</span> -<span class="i0">With meekness bearing all reproach, all joy</span> -<span class="i0">To her was lost; she wept upon her boy, <span class="linenum">250</span></span> -<span class="i0">Wish’d for his death, in fear that he might live</span> -<span class="i0">New sorrow to a burden’d heart to give.</span> -<span class="i2">‘There was a teacher, where my husband went— }</span> -<span class="i0"><i>Sent</i>, as he told the people—what he meant <span class="ws8">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">You cannot understand, but—he was sent.<span class="ws9">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">This man from meeting came, and strove to win</span> -<span class="i0">Her mind to peace by drawing off the sin,</span> -<span class="i0">Or what it was, that, working in her breast,</span> -<span class="i0">Robb’d it of comfort, confidence, and rest.</span> -<span class="i0">He came and reason’d, and she seem’d to feel <span class="linenum">260</span></span> -<span class="i0">The pains he took—her griefs began to heal;</span> -<span class="i0">She ever answer’d kindly when he spoke,</span> -<span class="i0">And always thank’d him for the pains he took;</span> -<span class="i0">So, after three long years, and all the while</span> -<span class="i0">Wrapt up in grief, she blest us with a smile,</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_354" id="Page_354">[Pg 354]</a></span> -<span class="i0">And spoke in comfort; but she mix’d no more</span> -<span class="i0">With younger persons, as she did before.</span> -<span class="i2">‘Still Ruth was pretty; in her person neat;</span> -<span class="i0">So thought the teacher, when they chanced to meet.</span> -<span class="i0">He was a weaver by his worldly trade, <span class="linenum">270</span></span> -<span class="i0">But powerful work in the assemblies made;</span> -<span class="i0">People came leagues to town to hear him sift</span> -<span class="i0">The holy text,—he had the grace and gift;</span> -<span class="i0">Widows and maidens flock’d to hear his voice;</span> -<span class="i0">Of either kind he might have had his choice;—</span> -<span class="i0">But he had chosen—we had seen how shy</span> -<span class="i0">The girl was getting, my good man and I;</span> -<span class="i0">That when the weaver came, she kept with us,</span> -<span class="i0">Where he his points and doctrines might discuss;</span> -<span class="i0">But in our bit of garden, or the room <span class="linenum">280</span></span> -<span class="i0">We call our parlour, there he must not come.</span> -<span class="i0">She loved him not, and though she could attend</span> -<span class="i0">To his discourses as her guide and friend,</span> -<span class="i0">Yet now to these she gave a listless ear,</span> -<span class="i0">As if a friend she would no longer hear;</span> -<span class="i0">This might he take for woman’s art, and cried,</span> -<span class="i0">‘Spouse of my heart, I must not be denied!’—</span> -<span class="i0">Fearless he spoke, and I had hope to see</span> -<span class="i0">My girl a wife—but this was not to be.</span> -<span class="i2">‘My husband, thinking of his worldly store, <span class="linenum">290</span></span> -<span class="i0">And not, frail man, enduring to be poor,</span> -<span class="i0">Seeing his friend would for his child provide</span> -<span class="i0">And hers, he grieved to have the man denied;</span> -<span class="i0">For Ruth, when press‘d, rejected him, and grew</span> -<span class="i0">To her old sorrow, as if that were new.</span> -<span class="i0">‘Who shall support her?’ said her father, ‘how</span> -<span class="i0">Can I, infirm and weak as I am now?</span> -<span class="i0">And here a loving fool’——this gave her pain</span> -<span class="i0">Severe, indeed, but she would not complain;</span> -<span class="i0">Nor would consent, although the weaver grew <span class="linenum">300</span></span> -<span class="i0">More fond, and would the frighten’d girl pursue.</span> -<span class="i2">‘O! much she begg’d him to forbear, to stand</span> -<span class="i0">Her soul’s kind friend, and not to ask her hand:</span> -<span class="i0">She could not love him.—‘Love me!’ he replied,</span> -<span class="i0">‘The love you mean is love unsanctified,</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_355" id="Page_355">[Pg 355]</a></span> -<span class="i0">An earthly, wicked, sensual, sinful kind,</span> -<span class="i0">A creature-love, the passion of the blind.’</span> -<span class="i0">He did not court her, he would have her know,</span> -<span class="i0">For that poor love that will on beauty grow;</span> -<span class="i0">No! he would take her as the prophet took <span class="linenum">310</span></span> -<span class="i0">One of the harlots in the holy book;</span> -<span class="i0">And then he look’d so ugly and severe!</span> -<span class="i0">And yet so fond—she could not hide her fear.</span> -<span class="i2">This fondness grew her torment; she would fly</span> -<span class="i0">In woman’s terror, if he came but nigh;</span> -<span class="i0">Nor could I wonder he should odious prove,</span> -<span class="i0">So like a ghost that left a grave for love.</span> -<span class="i2">But still her father lent his cruel aid</span> -<span class="i0">To the man’s hope, and she was more afraid:</span> -<span class="i0">He said, no more she should his table share, <span class="linenum">320</span></span> -<span class="i0">But be the parish or the teacher’s care.</span> -<span class="i0">‘Three days I give you: see that all be right<span class="ws7">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">On Monday-morning—this is Thursday-night—   }</span> -<span class="i0">Fulfil my wishes, girl! or else forsake my sight!’  }</span> -<span class="i2">‘I see her now; and, she that was so meek</span> -<span class="i0">It was a chance that she had power to speak,</span> -<span class="i0">Now spoke in earnest—‘Father! I obey,</span> -<span class="i0">And will remember the appointed day!’</span> -<span class="i2">‘Then came the man: she talk’d with him apart,</span> -<span class="i0">And, I believe, laid open all her heart; <span class="linenum">330</span></span> -<span class="i0">But all in vain—she said to me, in tears,</span> -<span class="i0">‘Mother! that man is not what he appears:</span> -<span class="i0">He talks of heaven, and let him, if he will,</span> -<span class="i0">But he has earthly purpose to fulfil;</span> -<span class="i0">Upon my knees I begg’d him to resign</span> -<span class="i0">The hand he asks—he said, ‘it shall be mine.</span> -<span class="i0">‘What! did the holy men of Scripture deign</span> -<span class="i0">To hear a woman when she said ‘refrain?’</span> -<span class="i0">Of whom they chose they took them wives, and these</span> -<span class="i0">Made it their study and their wish to please; <span class="linenum">340</span></span> -<span class="i0">The women then were faithful and afraid,</span> -<span class="i0">As Sarah Abraham, they their lords obey’d,</span> -<span class="i0">And so she styled him; ’tis in later days</span> -<span class="i0">Of foolish love that we our women praise,</span> -<span class="i0">Fall on the knee, and raise the suppliant hand,</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_356" id="Page_356">[Pg 356]</a></span> -<span class="i0">And court the favour that we might command.’</span> -<span class="i2">O! my dear mother, when this man has power,</span> -<span class="i0">How will he treat me—first may beasts devour!</span> -<span class="i0">Or death in every form that I could prove,</span> -<span class="i0">Except this selfish being’s hateful love.’ <span class="linenum">350</span></span> -<span class="i2">I gently blamed her, for I knew how hard</span> -<span class="i0">It is to force affection and regard.</span> -<span class="i2">Ah! my dear lad, I talk to you as one</span> -<span class="i0">Who knew the misery of an heart undone;</span> -<span class="i0">You know it not; but, dearest boy, when man,</span> -<span class="i0">Do not an ill because you find you can.</span> -<span class="i0">Where is the triumph? when such things men seek,</span> -<span class="i0">They only drive to wickedness the weak.</span> -<span class="i2">Weak was poor Ruth, and this good man so hard,</span> -<span class="i0">That to her weakness he had no regard; <span class="linenum">360</span></span> -<span class="i0">But we had two days peace; he came, and then</span> -<span class="i0">My daughter whisper’d, ‘Would there were no men!</span> -<span class="i0">None to admire or scorn us, none to vex</span> -<span class="i0">A simple, trusting, fond, believing sex;</span> -<span class="i0">Who truly love the worth that men profess,</span> -<span class="i0">And think too kindly for their happiness.’</span> -<span class="i2">Poor Ruth! few heroines in the tragic page</span> -<span class="i0">Felt more than thee in thy contracted stage;</span> -<span class="i0">Fair, fond, and virtuous, they our pity move,</span> -<span class="i0">Impell’d by duty, agonized by love; <span class="linenum">370</span></span> -<span class="i0">But no Mandane, who in dread has knelt</span> -<span class="i0">On the bare boards, has greater terrors felt,</span> -<span class="i0">Nor been by warring passions more subdued</span> -<span class="i0">Than thou, by this man’s groveling wish pursued;</span> -<span class="i0">Doom’d to a parent’s judgment, all unjust,<span class="ws6">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Doom’d the chance mercy of the world to trust, }</span> -<span class="i0">Or to wed grossness and conceal disgust. <span class="ws7">}</span></span> -<span class="i3">If Ruth was frail, she had a mind too nice</span> -<span class="i1">To wed with that which she beheld as vice;</span> -<span class="i1">To take a reptile, who, beneath a show <span class="linenum">380</span></span> -<span class="i1">Of peevish zeal, let carnal wishes grow;</span> -<span class="i1">Proud and yet mean, forbidding and yet full</span> -<span class="i1">Of eager appetites, devout and dull;</span> -<span class="i1">Waiting a legal right that he might seize</span> -<span class="i1">His own, and his impatient spirit ease;</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_357" id="Page_357">[Pg 357]</a></span> -<span class="i0">Who would at once his pride and love indulge,</span> -<span class="i0">His temper humour, and his spite divulge.</span> -<span class="i2">This the poor victim saw—a second time,</span> -<span class="i0">Sighing, she said, ‘Shall I commit the crime,</span> -<span class="i1">And now untempted? Can the form or rite <span class="linenum">390</span></span> -<span class="i1">Make me a wife in my Creator’s sight?</span> -<span class="i1">Can I the words without a meaning say?</span> -<span class="i1">Can I pronounce love, honour, or obey?</span> -<span class="i1">And if I cannot, shall I dare to wed,</span> -<span class="i2">And go an harlot to a loathed bed?</span> -<span class="i1">Never, dear mother! my poor boy and I</span> -<span class="i1">Will at the mercy of a parish lie:</span> -<span class="i1">Reproved for wants that vices would remove,</span> -<span class="i1">Reproach’d for vice that I could never love,</span> -<span class="i1">Mix’d with a crew long wedded to disgrace, <span class="ws7">}</span><span class="linenum">400</span></span> -<span class="i1">A Vulgar, forward, equalizing race—<span class="ws13">}</span></span> -<span class="i1">And am I doom’d to beg a dwelling in that place?’  }</span> -<span class="i1">Such was her reasoning: many times she weigh’d</span> -<span class="i0">The evils all, and was of each afraid;</span> -<span class="i0">She loath’d the common board, the vulgar seat, <span class="ws6">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Where shame, and want, and vice, and sorrow meet,  }</span> -<span class="i0">Where frailty finds allies, where guilt insures retreat. }</span> -<span class="i0">But peace again is fled; the teacher comes,</span> -<span class="i0">And new importance, haughtier air assumes.</span> -<span class="i2">No hapless victim of a tyrant’s love <span class="linenum">410</span></span> -<span class="i0">More keenly felt, or more resisting strove</span> -<span class="i0">Against her fate; she look’d on every side,</span> -<span class="i0">But there were none to help her, none to guide;—</span> -<span class="i0">And he, the man who should have taught the soul,</span> -<span class="i0">Wish’d but the body in his base control.</span> -<span class="i2">She left her infant on the Sunday morn,</span> -<span class="i0">A creature doom’d to shame! in sorrow born;</span> -<span class="i0">A thing that languished, nor arrived at age</span> -<span class="i0">When the man’s thoughts with sin and pain engage—</span> -<span class="i0">She came not home to share our humble meal, <span class="linenum">420</span></span> -<span class="i0">Her father thinking what his child would feel</span> -<span class="i0">From his hard sentence—still she came not home.</span> -<span class="i0">The night grew dark, and yet she was not come;</span> -<span class="i0">The east-wind roar’d, the sea return’d the sound,</span> -<span class="i0">And the rain fell as if the world were drown’d;</span> -<span class="i0">There were no lights without, and my good man,</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_358" id="Page_358">[Pg 358]</a></span> -<span class="i0">To kindness frighten’d, with a groan began</span> -<span class="i0">To talk of Ruth, and pray; and then he took</span> -<span class="i0">The Bible down, and read the holy book;</span> -<span class="i0">For he had learning; and when that was done <span class="linenum">430</span></span> -<span class="i0">We sat in silence—whither could we run?</span> -<span class="i0">We said, and then rush’d frighten’d from the door,</span> -<span class="i0">For we could bear our own conceit no more;</span> -<span class="i0">We call’d on neighbours—there she had not been;</span> -<span class="i0">We met some wanderers—ours they had not seen;</span> -<span class="i0">We hurried o’er the beach, both north and south,</span> -<span class="i0">Then join’d, and wander’d to our haven’s mouth,</span> -<span class="i0">Where rush’d the falling waters wildly out:</span> -<span class="i0">I scarcely heard the good man’s fearful shout,</span> -<span class="i0">Who saw a something on the billow ride, <span class="linenum">440</span></span> -<span class="i0">And ‘Heaven have mercy on our sins!’ he cried,</span> -<span class="i1">‘It is my child!’ and to the present hour</span> -<span class="i0">So he believes—and spirits have the power.</span> -<span class="i2">And she was gone! the waters wide and deep</span> -<span class="i0">Roll’d o’er her body as she lay asleep.</span> -<span class="i0">She heard no more the angry waves and wind,</span> -<span class="i0">She heard no more the threatening of mankind;</span> -<span class="i0">Wrapt in dark weeds, the refuse of the storm,</span> -<span class="i0">To the hard rock was borne her comely form!</span> -<span class="i2">But O! what storm was in that mind? what strife, <span class="linenum">450</span></span> -<span class="i0">That could compel her to lay down her life?</span> -<span class="i0">For she was seen within the sea to wade,</span> -<span class="i0">By one at distance, when she first had pray’d;</span> -<span class="i0">Then to a rock within the hither shoal</span> -<span class="i0">Softly and with a fearful step she stole;</span> -<span class="i0">Then, when she gain’d it, on the top she stood</span> -<span class="i0">A moment still—and dropt into the flood!</span> -<span class="i0">The man cried loudly, but he cried in vain—</span> -<span class="i0">She heard not then—she never heard again!</span> -<span class="i0">She had—pray, Heav’n!—she had that world in sight, <span class="linenum">460</span></span> -<span class="i0">Where frailty mercy finds, and wrong has right;</span> -<span class="i0">But, sure, in this her portion such has been,</span> -<span class="i0">Well had it still remain’d a world unseen!’</span> -<span class="i1">Thus far the dame: the passions will dispense</span> -<span class="i0">To such a wild and rapid eloquence—</span> -<span class="i0">Will to the weakest mind their strength impart,</span> -<span class="i0">And give the tongue the language of the heart.”</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_359" id="Page_359">[Pg 359]</a></span> -</div></div></div> - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> -<p class="f150"><b>TALES OF THE HALL.</b></p> -<h3>BOOK VI.</h3> -<p class="f110"><i>ADVENTURES OF RICHARD, CONCLUDED.</i></p> -</div> - -<p class="blockquot"> -Richard relates his Illness and Retirement—A Village Priest -and his two Daughters—His peculiar Studies—His Simplicity of -Character—Arrival of a third Daughter—Her Zeal in his Conversion— -Their Friendship—How terminated—An happy Day—Its Commencement -and Progress—A Journey along the Coast—Arrival as a Guest— -Company—A Lover’s Jealousy—it increases—dies away—- An Evening -Walk—Suspense—- Apprehension—Resolution—Certainty. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_360" id="Page_360">[Pg 360]</a></span></p> - -<p class="f150 break space-above2"><b>TALES OF THE HALL.</b></p> -<p class="f120"><b>BOOK VI.</b></p> -<p class="f110"><i>ADVENTURES OF RICHARD, CONCLUDED.</i></p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poem2"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“This then, dear Richard, was the way you took</span> -<span class="i0">To gain instruction—thine a curious book,</span> -<span class="i0">Containing much of both the false and true;</span> -<span class="i0">But thou hast read it, and with profit too.</span> -<span class="i2">“Come, then, my Brother, now thy tale complete—</span> -<span class="i0">I know thy first embarking in the fleet,</span> -<span class="i0">Thy entrance in the army, and thy gain</span> -<span class="i0">Of plenteous laurels in the wars in Spain,</span> -<span class="i0">And what then follow’d; but I wish to know</span> -<span class="i0">When thou that heart hadst courage to bestow, <span class="linenum">10</span></span> -<span class="i0">When to declare it gain’d, and when to stand</span> -<span class="i0">Before the priest, and give the plighted hand;</span> -<span class="i0">So shall I boldness from thy frankness gain</span> -<span class="i0">To paint the frenzy that possessed my brain;</span> -<span class="i0">For rather there than in my heart I found</span> -<span class="i0">Was my disease; a poison, not a wound,</span> -<span class="i0">A madness, Richard—but, I pray thee, tell</span> -<span class="i0">Whom hast thou loved so dearly and so well?”</span> -<span class="i2">The younger man his gentle host obey’d,</span> -<span class="i0">For some respect, though not required, was paid; <span class="linenum">20</span></span> -<span class="i0">Perhaps with all that independent pride</span> -<span class="i0">Their different states would to the memory glide;</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_361" id="Page_361">[Pg 361]</a></span> -<span class="i0">Yet was his manner unconstrain’d and free,</span> -<span class="i0">And nothing in it like servility.</span> -<span class="i2">Then he began:—“When first I reach’d the land,</span> -<span class="i0">I was so ill that death appear’d at hand;</span> -<span class="i0">And, though the fever left me, yet I grew</span> -<span class="i0">So weak ’twas judged that life would leave me too.</span> -<span class="i0">I sought a village-priest, my mother’s friend,</span> -<span class="i0">And I believed with him my days would end: <span class="linenum">30</span></span> -<span class="i0">The man was kind, intelligent, and mild,</span> -<span class="i0">Careless and shrewd, yet simple as the child;</span> -<span class="i0">For of the wisdom of the world his share</span> -<span class="i0">And mine were equal—neither had to spare;</span> -<span class="i0">Else—with his daughters, beautiful and poor—</span> -<span class="i0">He would have kept a sailor from his door.</span> -<span class="i0">Two then were present, who adorn’d his home,</span> -<span class="i0">But ever speaking of a third to come;</span> -<span class="i0">Cheerful they were, not too reserved or free,</span> -<span class="i0">I loved them both, and never wish’d them three. <span class="linenum">40</span></span> -<span class="i2">“The vicar’s self, still further to describe,</span> -<span class="i0">Was of a simple, but a studious tribe;</span> -<span class="i0">He from the world was distant, not retired,</span> -<span class="i0">Nor of it much possess’d, nor much desired:</span> -<span class="i0">Grave in his purpose, cheerful in his eye,</span> -<span class="i0">And with a look of frank benignity.</span> -<span class="i0">He lost his wife when they together past</span> -<span class="i0">Years of calm love, that triumph’d to the last.</span> -<span class="i0">He much of nature, not of man, had seen,</span> -<span class="i0">Yet his remarks were often shrewd and keen; <span class="linenum">50</span></span> -<span class="i0">Taught not by books t’ approve or to condemn,</span> -<span class="i0">He gain’d but little that he knew from them;</span> -<span class="i0">He read with reverence and respect the few,</span> -<span class="i0">Whence he his rules and consolations drew;</span> -<span class="i0">But men and beasts, and all that lived or moved,</span> -<span class="i0">Were books to him; he studied them and loved.</span> -<span class="i2">“He knew the plants in mountain, wood, or mead;</span> -<span class="i0">He knew the worms that on the foliage feed;</span> -<span class="i0">Knew the small tribes that ’scape the careless eye,</span> -<span class="i0">The plant’s disease that breeds the embryo-fly; <span class="linenum">60</span></span> -<span class="i0">And the small creatures who on bark or bough</span> -<span class="i0">Enjoy their changes, changed we know not how;</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_362" id="Page_362">[Pg 362]</a></span> -<span class="i0">But now th’ imperfect being scarcely moves,</span> -<span class="i0">And now takes wing and seeks the sky it loves.</span> -<span class="i2">“He had no system, and forbore to read</span> -<span class="i0">The learned labours of th’ immortal Swede;</span> -<span class="i0">But smiled to hear the creatures he had known</span> -<span class="i0">So long, were now in class and order shown,</span> -<span class="i0">Genus and species—‘is it meet,’ said he,</span> -<span class="i0">‘This creature’s name should one so sounding be? <span class="linenum">70</span></span> -<span class="i0">Tis but a fly, though first-born of the spring—</span> -<span class="i0">Bombylius majus, dost thou call the thing?</span> -<span class="i0">Majus, indeed! and yet, in fact, ’tis true,<span class="ws12">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">We all are majors, all are minors too, <span class="ws14">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Except the first and last—th’ immensely distant two. }</span> -<span class="i0">And here again—what call the learned this?</span> -<span class="i0">Both Hippobosca and Hirundinis?</span> -<span class="i0">Methinks the creature should be proud to find</span> -<span class="i0">That he employs the talents of mankind;</span> -<span class="i0">And that his sovereign master shrewdly looks, <span class="linenum">80</span></span> -<span class="i0">Counts all his parts, and puts them in his books.</span> -<span class="i0">Well! go thy way, for I do feel it shame</span> -<span class="i0">To stay a being with so proud a name.’</span> -<span class="i2">“Such were his daughters, such my quiet friend,</span> -<span class="i0">And pleasant was it thus my days to spend;</span> -<span class="i0">But when Matilda at her home I saw,</span> -<span class="i0">Whom I beheld with anxiousness and awe,</span> -<span class="i0">The ease and quiet that I found before</span> -<span class="i0">At once departed, and return’d no more.</span> -<span class="i0">No more their music soothed me as they play’d, <span class="linenum">90</span></span> -<span class="i0">But soon her words a strong impression made:</span> -<span class="i0">The sweet enthusiast, so I deem’d her, took</span> -<span class="i0">My mind, and fix’d it to her speech and look;</span> -<span class="i0">My soul, dear girl! she made her constant care,  }</span> -<span class="i0">But never whisper’d to my heart ‘beware!’<span class="ws6">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">In love no dangers rise till we are in the snare.<span class="ws3">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Her father sometimes question’d of my creed,</span> -<span class="i0">And seem’d to think it might amendment need;</span> -<span class="i0">But great the difference when the pious maid</span> -<span class="i0">To the same errors her attention paid: <span class="linenum">100</span></span> -<span class="i0">Her sole design that I should think aright,</span> -<span class="i0">And my conversion her supreme delight.</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_363" id="Page_363">[Pg 363]</a></span> -<span class="i0">Pure was her mind, and simple her intent,</span> -<span class="i0">Good all she sought, and kindness all she meant.</span> -<span class="i0">Next to religion friendship was our theme,</span> -<span class="i0">Related souls and their refined esteem.</span> -<span class="i0">We talk’d of scenes where this is real found,</span> -<span class="i0">And love subsists without a dart or wound;</span> -<span class="i0">But there intruded thoughts not all serene,</span> -<span class="i0">And wishes not so calm would intervene.” <span class="linenum">110</span></span> -<span class="i2">“Saw not her father?”</span> -<span class="i24">“Yes; but saw no more</span> -<span class="i0">Than he had seen without a fear before:</span> -<span class="i0">He had subsisted by the church and plough,</span> -<span class="i0">And saw no cause for apprehension now.</span> -<span class="i0">We, too, could live; he thought not passion wrong,</span> -<span class="i0">But only wonder’d we delay’d so long.</span> -<span class="i0">More had he wonder’d had he known esteem</span> -<span class="i0">Was all we mention’d, friendship was our theme.—</span> -<span class="i0">Laugh, if you please, I must my tale pursue—<span class="ws6">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">This sacred friendship thus in secret grew <span class="ws9">}</span><span class="linenum">120</span></span> -<span class="i0">An intellectual love, most tender, chaste, and true;  }</span> -<span class="i0">Unstain’d, we said; nor knew we how it chanced</span> -<span class="i0">To gain some earthly soil as it advanced;</span> -<span class="i0">But yet my friend, and she alone, could prove</span> -<span class="i0">How much it differ’d from romantic love—</span> -<span class="i0">But this and more I pass—No doubt, at length,</span> -<span class="i0">We could perceive the weakness of our strength.</span> -<span class="i2">“O! days remember’d well! remember’d all!</span> -<span class="i0">The bitter-sweet, the honey and the gall;</span> -<span class="i0">Those garden rambles in the silent night, <span class="linenum">130</span></span> -<span class="i0">Those trees so shady, and that moon so bright;</span> -<span class="i0">That thickset alley, by the arbour closed,</span> -<span class="i0">That woodbine seat where we at last reposed;</span> -<span class="i0">And then the hopes that came and then were gone,</span> -<span class="i0">Quick as the clouds beneath the moon passed on.</span> -<span class="i0">Now, in this instant, shall my love be shown,</span> -<span class="i0">I said—O! no, the happy time is flown!</span> -<span class="i2">“You smile; remember, I was weak and low,</span> -<span class="i0">And fear’d the passion as I felt it grow:</span> -<span class="i0">Will she, I said, to one so poor attend, <span class="linenum">140</span></span> -<span class="i0">Without a prospect, and without a friend?</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_364" id="Page_364">[Pg 364]</a></span> -<span class="i0">I dared not ask her—till a rival came,</span> -<span class="i0">But hid the secret, slow-consuming flame.</span> -<span class="i2">I once had seen him; then familiar, free,</span> -<span class="i0">More than became a common guest to be;</span> -<span class="i0">And sure, I said, he has a look of pride</span> -<span class="i0">And inward joy—a lover satisfied.</span> -<span class="i2">Can you not, Brother, on adventures past</span> -<span class="i0">A thought, as on a lively prospect, cast?</span> -<span class="i0">On days of dear remembrance! days that seem, <span class="linenum">150</span></span> -<span class="i0">When past—nay, even when present—like a dream?</span> -<span class="i0">These white and blessed days, that softly shine</span> -<span class="i0">On few, nor oft on them—have they been thine?”</span> -<span class="i1">George answer’d, “Yes! dear Richard, through the years</span> -<span class="i0">Long past, a day so white and mark’d appears.</span> -<span class="i0">As in the storm that pours destruction round,</span> -<span class="i0">Is here and there a ship in safety found:</span> -<span class="i0">So in the storms of life some days appear</span> -<span class="i0">More blest and bright for the preceding fear.</span> -<span class="i0">These times of pleasure that in life arise, <span class="linenum">160</span></span> -<span class="i0">Like spots in deserts, that delight, surprise,</span> -<span class="i0">And to our wearied senses give the more,</span> -<span class="i0">For all the waste behind us and before—</span> -<span class="i0">And thou, dear Richard, hast then had thy share</span> -<span class="i0">Of those enchanting times that baffle care?”</span> -<span class="i2">Yes, I have felt this life-refreshing gale</span> -<span class="i0">That bears us onward when our spirits fail;</span> -<span class="i0">That gives those spirits vigour and delight—</span> -<span class="i0">I would describe it, could I do it right.</span> -<span class="i2">Such days have been—a day of days was one <span class="linenum">170</span></span> -<span class="i0">When, rising gaily with the rising sun,</span> -<span class="i0">I took my way to join a happy few,</span> -<span class="i0">Known not to me, but whom Matilda knew,</span> -<span class="i0">To whom she went a guest, and message sent:</span> -<span class="i1">Come thou to us;’ and as a guest I went.</span> -<span class="i0">There are two ways to Brandon—by the heath</span> -<span class="i0">Above the cliff, or on the sand beneath,</span> -<span class="i0">Where the small pebbles, wetted by the wave,</span> -<span class="i0">To the new day reflected lustre gave.</span> -<span class="i0">At first above the rocks I made my way, <span class="linenum">180</span></span> -<span class="i0">Delighted looking at the spacious bay,</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_365" id="Page_365">[Pg 365]</a></span> -<span class="i0">And the large fleet that to the northward steer’d</span> -<span class="i0">Full sail, that glorious in my view appear’d;</span> -<span class="i0">For where does man evince his full control</span> -<span class="i0">O’er subject matter, where displays the soul</span> -<span class="i0">Its mighty energies with more effect</span> -<span class="i0">Than when her powers that moving mass direct?</span> -<span class="i0">Than when man guides the ship man’s art has made,</span> -<span class="i0">And makes the winds and waters yield him aid?</span> -<span class="i2">“Much as I long’d to see the maid I loved, <span class="linenum">190</span></span> -<span class="i0">Through scenes so glorious I at leisure moved;</span> -<span class="i0">For there are times when we do not obey</span> -<span class="i0">The master-passion—when we yet delay—</span> -<span class="i0">When absence, soon to end, we yet prolong,</span> -<span class="i0">And dally with our wish although so strong.</span> -<span class="i2">“High were my joys, but they were sober too,</span> -<span class="i0">Nor reason spoil’d the pictures fancy drew;</span> -<span class="i0">I felt—rare feeling in a world like this—</span> -<span class="i0">The sober certainty of waking bliss;</span> -<span class="i0">Add too the smaller aids to happy men, <span class="linenum">200</span></span> -<span class="i0">Convenient helps—these too were present then.</span> -<span class="i2">“But what are spirits? light indeed and gay <span class="ws6">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">They are, like winter flowers, nor last a day; <span class="ws7">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Comes a rude icy wind—they feel, and fade away.  }</span> -<span class="i2">“High beat my heart when to the house I came,</span> -<span class="i0">And when the ready servant gave my name;</span> -<span class="i0">But when I enter’d that pernicious room,</span> -<span class="i0">Gloomy it look’d, and painful was the gloom;</span> -<span class="i0">And jealous was the pain, and deep the sigh</span> -<span class="i0">Caused by this gloom, and pain, and jealousy: <span class="linenum">210</span></span> -<span class="i0">For there Matilda sat, and her beside</span> -<span class="i0">That rival soldier, with a soldier’s pride;</span> -<span class="i0">With self-approval in his laughing face,</span> -<span class="i0">His seem’d the leading spirit of the place.</span> -<span class="i0">She was all coldness—yet I thought a look,</span> -<span class="i0">But that corrected, tender welcome spoke:</span> -<span class="i0">It was as lightning which you think you see,</span> -<span class="i0">But doubt, and ask if lightning it could be.</span> -<span class="i2">“Confused and quick my introduction pass’d,</span> -<span class="i0">When I, a stranger and on strangers cast, <span class="linenum">220</span></span> -<span class="i0">Beheld the gallant man as he display’d</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_366" id="Page_366">[Pg 366]</a></span> -<span class="i0">Uncheck’d attention to the guilty maid.</span> -<span class="i0">O! how it grieved me that she dared t’ excite</span> -<span class="i0">Those looks in him that show’d so much delight;</span> -<span class="i0">Egregious coxcomb! there—he smiled again,</span> -<span class="i0">As if he sought to aggravate my pain;</span> -<span class="i0">Still she attends—I must approach—and find,</span> -<span class="i0">Or make, a quarrel, to relieve my mind.</span> -<span class="i2">“In vain I try—politeness as a shield</span> -<span class="i0">The angry strokes of my contempt repell’d; <span class="linenum">230</span></span> -<span class="i0">Nor must I violate the social law</span> -<span class="i0">That keeps the rash and insolent in awe.</span> -<span class="i0">Once I observed, on hearing my replies,</span> -<span class="i0">The woman’s terror fix’d on me the eyes</span> -<span class="i0">That look’d entreaty; but the guideless rage</span> -<span class="i0">Of jealous minds no softness can assuage.</span> -<span class="i0">But, lo! they rise, and all prepare to take</span> -<span class="i0">The promised pleasure on the neighbouring lake.</span> -<span class="i2">“Good heaven! they whisper! Is it come to this?</span> -<span class="i0">Already!—then may I my doubt dismiss: <span class="linenum">240</span></span> -<span class="i0">Could he so soon a timid girl persuade?</span> -<span class="i0">What rapid progress has the coxcomb made!</span> -<span class="i0">And yet how cool her looks, and how demure!</span> -<span class="i0">The falling snow nor lily’s flower so pure—</span> -<span class="i0">What can I do? I must the pair attend,</span> -<span class="i0">And watch this horrid business to its end.</span> -<span class="i2">“There, forth they go! He leads her to the shore—</span> -<span class="i0">Nay, I must follow—I can bear no more:</span> -<span class="i0">What can the handsome gipsy have in view</span> -<span class="i0">In trifling thus, as she appears to do? <span class="linenum">250</span></span> -<span class="i0">I, who for months have labour’d to succeed,</span> -<span class="i0">Have only lived her vanity to feed.</span> -<span class="i2">“O! you will make me room—’tis very kind,</span> -<span class="i0">And meant for him—it tells him he must mind;</span> -<span class="i0">Must not be careless:—I can serve to draw</span> -<span class="i0">The soldier on, and keep the man in awe.</span> -<span class="i0">O! I did think she had a guileless heart,</span> -<span class="i0">Without deceit, capriciousness, or art;</span> -<span class="i0">And yet a stranger, with a coat of red,</span> -<span class="i0">Has, by an hour’s attention, turn’d her head. <span class="linenum">260</span></span> -<span class="i2">“Ah! how delicious was the morning-drive,</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_367" id="Page_367">[Pg 367]</a></span> -<span class="i0">The soul awaken’d, and its hopes alive;</span> -<span class="i0">How dull this scene by trifling minds enjoy’d,</span> -<span class="i0">The heart in trouble and its hope destroy’d.</span> -<span class="i2">Well, now we land—And will he yet support</span> -<span class="i0">This part? What favour has he now to court?</span> -<span class="i0">Favour! O, no! He means to quit the fair;</span> -<span class="i0">How strange! how cruel! Will she not despair?</span> -<span class="i2">Well! take her hand—no further if you please,</span> -<span class="i0">I cannot suffer fooleries like these:— <span class="linenum">270</span></span> -<span class="i0">How? ‘Love to Julia!’ to his wife?—O! dear <span class="ws8">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">And injured creature, how must I appear, <span class="ws10">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Thus haughty in my looks, and in my words severe? }</span> -<span class="i0">Her love to Julia, to the school-day friend</span> -<span class="i0">To whom those letters she has lately penn’d!</span> -<span class="i0">Can she forgive? And now I think again,</span> -<span class="i0">The man was neither insolent nor vain;</span> -<span class="i0">Good humour chiefly would a stranger trace,</span> -<span class="i0">Were he impartial, in the air or face;</span> -<span class="i0">And I so splenetic the whole way long, <span class="linenum">280</span></span> -<span class="i0">And she so patient—it was very wrong.</span> -<span class="i2">The boat had landed in a shady scene;</span> -<span class="i0">The grove was in its glory, fresh and green;</span> -<span class="i0">The showers of late had swell’d the branch and bough,</span> -<span class="i0">And the sun’s fervour made them pleasant now.</span> -<span class="i0">Hard by, an oak arose in all its pride,</span> -<span class="i0">And threw its arms along the water’s side:</span> -<span class="i0">Its leafy limbs, that on the glassy lake</span> -<span class="i0">Stretch far, and all those dancing shadows make.</span> -<span class="i2">And now we walk—now smaller parties seek <span class="linenum">290</span></span> -<span class="i0">Or sun or shade as pleases—Shall I speak?</span> -<span class="i0">Shall I forgiveness ask, and then apply</span> -<span class="i0">For——O! that vile and intercepting cry!</span> -<span class="i0">Alas! what mighty ills can trifles make—</span> -<span class="i0">An hat! the idiot’s—fallen in the lake!</span> -<span class="i0">What serious mischief can such idlers do?</span> -<span class="i0">I almost wish the head had fallen too.</span> -<span class="i2">No more they leave us, but will hover round,</span> -<span class="i0">As if amusement at our cost they found;</span> -<span class="i0">Vex’d and unhappy I indeed had been, <span class="linenum">300</span></span> -<span class="i0">Had I not something in my charmer seen</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_368" id="Page_368">[Pg 368]</a></span> -<span class="i0">Like discontent, that, though corrected, dwelt</span> -<span class="i0">On that dear face, and told me what she felt.</span> -<span class="i2">“Now must we cross the lake, and as we cross’d</span> -<span class="i0">Was my whole soul in sweet emotion lost;</span> -<span class="i0">Clouds in white volumes roll’d beneath the moon,</span> -<span class="i0">Softening her light that on the waters shone:</span> -<span class="i0">This was such bliss! even then it seem’d relief</span> -<span class="i0">To veil the gladness in a show of grief.</span> -<span class="i0">We sigh’d as we conversed, and said, how deep <span class="linenum">310</span></span> -<span class="i0">This lake on which those broad dark shadows sleep;</span> -<span class="i0">There is between us and a watery grave</span> -<span class="i0">But a thin plank, and yet our fate we brave.</span> -<span class="i0">‘What if it burst?’ ‘Matilda, then my care <span class="ws13">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Would be for thee: all danger I would dare, <span class="ws11">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">And, should my efforts fail, thy fortune would I share.’  }</span> -<span class="i0">‘The love of life,’ she said, ‘would powerful prove!’—</span> -<span class="i0">‘O! not so powerful as the strength of love.’—</span> -<span class="i0">A look of kindness gave the grateful maid,</span> -<span class="i0">That had the real effort more than paid. <span class="linenum">320</span></span> -<span class="i2">“But here we land, and haply now may choose</span> -<span class="i0">Companions home—our way, too, we may lose:</span> -<span class="i0">In these drear, dark, inosculating lanes,</span> -<span class="i0">The very native of his doubt complains;</span> -<span class="i0">No wonder then that in such lonely ways</span> -<span class="i0">A stranger, heedless of the country, strays;</span> -<span class="i0">A stranger, too, whose many thoughts all meet</span> -<span class="i0">In one design, and none regard his feet.</span> -<span class="i2">“‘Is this the path?’ the cautious fair one cries;<span class="ws4">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">I answer, ‘Yes!’—‘We shall our friends surprise,’  }<span class="linenum">330</span></span> -<span class="i0">She added, sighing—I return the sighs. <span class="ws11">}</span></span> -<span class="i2">“‘Will they not wonder?’ ‘O! they would, indeed,</span> -<span class="i0">Could they the secrets of this bosom read,</span> -<span class="i0">These chilling doubts, these trembling hopes I feel!</span> -<span class="i0">The faint, fond hopes I can no more conceal—</span> -<span class="i0">I love thee, dear Matilda!—to confess</span> -<span class="i0">The fact is dangerous, fatal to suppress.</span> -<span class="i2">“‘And now in terror I approach the home</span> -<span class="i0">Where I may wretched but not doubtful come;</span> -<span class="i0">Where I must be all ecstasy, or all— <span class="linenum">340</span></span> -<span class="i0">O! what will you a wretch rejected call?</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_369" id="Page_369">[Pg 369]</a></span> -<span class="i0">Not man, for I shall lose myself, and be</span> -<span class="i0">A creature lost to reason, losing thee.</span> -<span class="i2">“‘Speak, my Matilda! on the rack of fear</span> -<span class="i0">Suspend me not—I would my sentence hear,</span> -<span class="i0">Would learn my fate—Good Heaven! and what portend</span> -<span class="i0">These tears?—and fall they for thy wretched friend?</span> -<span class="i0">Or’——but I cease; I cannot paint the bliss,</span> -<span class="i0">From a confession soft and kind as this;</span> -<span class="i0">Nor where we walk’d, nor how our friends we met, }<span class="linenum">350</span></span> -<span class="i0">Or what their wonder—I am wondering yet;<span class="ws8">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">For he who nothing heeds has nothing to forget.<span class="ws5">}</span></span> -<span class="i2">“All thought, yet thinking nothing—all delight</span> -<span class="i0">In every thing, but nothing in my sight!</span> -<span class="i0">Nothing I mark or learn, but am possess’d  }</span> -<span class="i0">Of joys I cannot paint, and I am bless’d <span class="ws4">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">In all that I conceive—whatever is, is best. }</span> -<span class="i0">Ready to aid all beings, I would go</span> -<span class="i0">The world around to succour human wo;</span> -<span class="i0">Yet am so largely happy, that it seems <span class="linenum">360</span></span> -<span class="i0">There are no woes, and sorrows are but dreams.</span> -<span class="i2">“There is a college joy, to scholars known,</span> -<span class="i0">When the first honours are proclaim’d their own;</span> -<span class="i0">There is ambition’s joy, when in their race</span> -<span class="i0">A man surpassing rivals gains his place;</span> -<span class="i0">There is a beauty’s joy, amid a crowd</span> -<span class="i0">To have that beauty her first fame allow’d;</span> -<span class="i0">And there’s the conqueror’s joy, when, dubious held</span> -<span class="i0">And long the fight, he sees the foe repell’d.</span> -<span class="i2">“But what are these, or what are other joys, <span class="linenum">370</span></span> -<span class="i0">That charm kings, conquerors, beauteous nymphs and boys,</span> -<span class="i0">Or greater yet, if greater yet be found,</span> -<span class="i0">To that delight when love’s dear hope is crown’d?</span> -<span class="i0">To the first beating of a lover’s heart,</span> -<span class="i0">When the loved maid endeavours to impart,</span> -<span class="i0">Frankly yet faintly, fondly yet in fear,</span> -<span class="i0">The kind confession that he holds so dear?</span> -<span class="i0">Now in the morn of our return how strange</span> -<span class="i0">Was this new feeling, this delicious change;</span> -<span class="i0">That sweet delirium, when I gazed in fear, <span class="linenum">380</span></span> -<span class="i0">That all would yet be lost and disappear.</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_370" id="Page_370">[Pg 370]</a></span> -<span class="i2">“Such was the blessing that I sought for pain,</span> -<span class="i0">In some degree to be myself again;</span> -<span class="i0">And when we met a shepherd old and lame,</span> -<span class="i0">Cold and diseased, it seem’d my blood to tame;</span> -<span class="i0">And I was thankful for the moral sight,</span> -<span class="i0">That soberized the vast and wild delight.”</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_371" id="Page_371">[Pg 371]</a></span> -</div></div></div> - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> -<p class="f150"><b>TALES OF THE HALL.</b></p> -<h3>BOOK VII.</h3> -<p class="f110"><i>THE ELDER BROTHER.</i></p> -</div> - -<p class="blockquot"> -Conversation—Story of the elder Brother—His romantic Views and -Habits—The Scene of his Meditations—Their Nature—Interrupted -by an Adventure—The Consequences of it—A strong and permanent -Passion—Search of its Object—Long ineffectual—How found—The -first Interview—The second—End of the Adventure—Retirement. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_372" id="Page_372">[Pg 372]</a></span></p> - -<p class="f150 break space-above2"><b>TALES OF THE HALL.</b></p> -<p class="f120"><b>BOOK VII.</b></p> -<p class="f110"><i>THE ELDER BROTHER.</i></p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poem2"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“Thanks, my dear Richard; and, I pray thee, deign</span> -<span class="i0">To speak the truth—does all this love remain,</span> -<span class="i0">And all this joy? for views and flights sublime,</span> -<span class="i0">Ardent and tender, are subdued by time.</span> -<span class="i0">Speakst thou of her to whom thou madest thy vows,</span> -<span class="i0">Of my fair sister, of thy lawful spouse?</span> -<span class="i0">Or art thou talking some frail love about,</span> -<span class="i0">The rambling fit, before th’ abiding gout?”</span> -<span class="i2">Nay, spare me, Brother, an adorer spare:</span> -<span class="i0">Love and the gout! thou wouldst not these compare?” <span class="linenum">10</span></span> -<span class="i2">“Yea, and correctly; teasing ere they come,</span> -<span class="i0">They then confine their victim to his home:</span> -<span class="i0">In both are previous feints and false attacks,</span> -<span class="i0">Both place the grieving patient on their racks:</span> -<span class="i0">They both are ours, with all they bring, for life,</span> -<span class="i0">’Tis not in us t’ expel or gout or wife;</span> -<span class="i0">On man a kind of dignity they shed,</span> -<span class="i0">A sort of gloomy pomp about his bed;</span> -<span class="i0">Then, if he leaves them, go where’er he will,</span> -<span class="i0">They have a claim upon his body still; <span class="linenum">20</span></span> -<span class="i0">Nay, when they quit him, as they sometimes do,</span> -<span class="i0">What is there left t’ enjoy or to pursue?—</span> -<span class="i0">But dost thou love this woman?”</span> -<span class="i32">“O! beyond</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_373" id="Page_373">[Pg 373]</a></span> -<span class="i0">What I can tell thee of the true and fond:</span> -<span class="i0">Hath she not soothed me, sick, enrich’d me, poor,</span> -<span class="i0">And banish’d death and misery from my door?</span> -<span class="i0">Has she not cherish’d every moment’s bliss,</span> -<span class="i0">And made an Eden of a world like this?</span> -<span class="i0">When Care would strive with us his watch to keep,</span> -<span class="i0">Has she not sung the snarling fiend to sleep? <span class="linenum">30</span></span> -<span class="i0">And when Distress has look’d us in the face,</span> -<span class="i0">Has she not told him, ‘thou art not Disgrace?’”</span> -<span class="i2">“I must behold her, Richard; I must see</span> -<span class="i0">This patient spouse who sweetens misery—</span> -<span class="i0">But didst thou need, and wouldst thou not apply?—</span> -<span class="i0">Nay thou wert right—but then how wrong was I!”</span> -<span class="i2">“My indiscretion was——”</span> -<span class="i28">“No more repeat;</span> -<span class="i0">Would I were nothing worse than indiscreet;—</span> -<span class="i0">But still there is a plea that I could bring,</span> -<span class="i0">Had I the courage to describe the thing.” <span class="linenum">40</span></span> -<span class="i2">“Then, thou too, Brother, couldst of weakness tell;</span> -<span class="i0">Thou, too, hast found the wishes that rebel</span> -<span class="i0">Against the sovereign reason; at some time</span> -<span class="i0">Thou hast been fond, heroic, and sublime;</span> -<span class="i0">Wrote verse, it may be, and for one dear maid</span> -<span class="i0">The sober purposes of life delay’d;</span> -<span class="i0">From year to year the fruitless chase pursued,</span> -<span class="i0">And hung enamour’d o’er the flying good.</span> -<span class="i0">Then, be thy weakness to a Brother shown,</span> -<span class="i0">And give him comfort who displays his own.” <span class="linenum">50</span></span> -<span class="i2">“Ungenerous youth! dost thou presuming ask</span> -<span class="i0">A man so grave his failings to unmask?</span> -<span class="i0">What if I tell thee of a waste of time,</span> -<span class="i0">That on my spirit presses as a crime,</span> -<span class="i0">Wilt thou despise me?—I, who, soaring, fell<span class="ws11">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">So late to rise—Hear then the tale I tell; <span class="ws14">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Who tells what thou shalt hear, esteems his hearer well. }</span> -</div></div> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_374" id="Page_374">[Pg 374]</a></span> -<span class="i2">“Yes, my dear Richard, thou shalt hear me own</span> -<span class="i0">Follies and frailties thou hast never known;</span> -<span class="i0">Thine was a frailty,—folly, if you please— <span class="linenum">60</span></span> -<span class="i0">But mine a flight, a madness, a disease.</span> -<span class="i2">“Turn with me to my twentieth year, for then</span> -<span class="i0">The lover’s frenzy ruled the poet’s pen;</span> -<span class="i0">When virgin reams were soil’d with lays of love,</span> -<span class="i0">The flinty hearts of fancied nymphs to move:</span> -<span class="i0">Then was I pleased in lonely ways to tread,</span> -<span class="i0">And muse on tragic tales of lovers dead;</span> -<span class="i0">For all the merit I could then descry</span> -<span class="i0">In man or woman was for love to die.</span> -<span class="i2">“I mused on charmers chaste, who pledged their truth, <span class="linenum">70</span></span> -<span class="i0">And left no more the once-accepted youth;</span> -<span class="i0">Though he disloyal, lost, diseased, became,</span> -<span class="i0">The widow’d turtle’s was a deathless flame.</span> -<span class="i0">This faith, this feeling, gave my soul delight:</span> -<span class="i0">Truth in the lady, ardour in the knight.</span> -<span class="i2">“I built me castles wondrous rich and rare,</span> -<span class="i0">Few castle-builders could with me compare;</span> -<span class="i0">The hall, the palace, rose at my command,</span> -<span class="i0">And these I fill’d with objects great and grand.</span> -<span class="i0">Virtues sublime, that nowhere else would live, <span class="linenum">80</span></span> -<span class="i0">Glory and pomp, that I alone could give;</span> -<span class="i0">Trophies and thrones, by matchless valour gain’d,</span> -<span class="i0">Faith unreproved, and chastity unstain’d;</span> -<span class="i0">With all that soothes the sense and charms the soul,</span> -<span class="i0">Came at my call, and were in my control.</span> -<span class="i2">“And who was I? a slender youth and tall,</span> -<span class="i0">In manner awkward, and with fortune small;</span> -<span class="i0">With visage pale; my motions quick and slow,</span> -<span class="i0">That fall and rising in the spirits show;</span> -<span class="i0">For none could more by outward signs express <span class="linenum">90</span></span> -<span class="i0">What wise men lock within the mind’s recess.</span> -<span class="i0">Had I a mirror set before my view,</span> -<span class="i0">I might have seen what such a form could do;</span> -<span class="i0">Had I within the mirror truth beheld,</span> -<span class="i0">I should have such presuming thoughts repell’d:</span> -<span class="i0">But, awkward as I was, without the grace</span> -<span class="i0">That gives new beauty to a form or face,</span> -<span class="i0">Still I expected friends most true to prove,</span> -<span class="i0">And grateful, tender, warm, assiduous love.</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_375" id="Page_375">[Pg 375]</a></span> -<span class="i2">“Assured of this, that love’s delicious bond <span class="linenum">100</span></span> -<span class="i0">Would hold me ever faithful, ever fond,</span> -<span class="i0">It seem’d but just that I in love should find</span> -<span class="i0">A kindred heart as constant and as kind.</span> -<span class="i0">Give me, I cried, a beauty: none on earth</span> -<span class="i0">Of higher rank or nobler in her birth;</span> -<span class="i0">Pride of her race, her father’s hope and care,</span> -<span class="i0">Yet meek as children of the cottage are;</span> -<span class="i0">Nursed in the court, and there by love pursued,</span> -<span class="i0">But fond of peace, and blest in solitude;</span> -<span class="i0">By rivals honour’d, and by beauties praised, <span class="linenum">110</span></span> -<span class="i0">Yet all unconscious of the envy raised.</span> -<span class="i0">Suppose her this, and from attendants freed,</span> -<span class="i0">To want my prowess in a time of need,</span> -<span class="i0">When safe and grateful she desires to show</span> -<span class="i0">She feels the debt that she delights to owe,</span> -<span class="i0">And loves the man who saved her in distress—</span> -<span class="i0">So fancy will’d, nor would compound for less.</span> -<span class="i2">“This was my dream.—In some auspicious hour,</span> -<span class="i0">In some sweet solitude, in some green bower,</span> -<span class="i0">Whither my fate should lead me, there, unseen, <span class="linenum">120</span></span> -<span class="i0">I should behold my fancy’s gracious queen,</span> -<span class="i0">Singing sweet song! that I should hear awhile,</span> -<span class="i0">Then catch the transient glory of a smile;</span> -<span class="i0">Then at her feet with trembling hope should kneel,</span> -<span class="i0">Such as rapt saints and raptured lovers feel:</span> -<span class="i0">To watch the chaste unfoldings of her heart,</span> -<span class="i0">In joy to meet, in agony to part,</span> -<span class="i0">And then in tender song to soothe my grief,</span> -<span class="i0">And hail, in glorious rhyme, my <i>Lady of the Leaf</i>.</span> -<span class="i2">“To dream these dreams I chose a woody scene, <span class="linenum">130</span></span> -<span class="i0">My guardian-shade, the world and me between;</span> -<span class="i0">A green inclosure, where beside its bound</span> -<span class="i0">A thorny fence beset its beauties round,</span> -<span class="i0">Save where some creature’s force had made a way</span> -<span class="i0">For me to pass, and in my kingdom stray.</span> -<span class="i0">Here then I stray’d, then sat me down to call,</span> -<span class="i0">Just as I will’d, my shadowy subjects all!</span> -<span class="i0">Fruits of all minds conceived on every coast—</span> -<span class="i0">Fay, witch, enchanter, devil, demon, ghost;</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_376" id="Page_376">[Pg 376]</a></span> -<span class="i0">And thus with knights and nymphs, in halls and bowers, <span class="linenum">140</span></span> -<span class="i0">In war and love, I pass’d unnumber’d hours.</span> -<span class="i0">Gross and substantial beings all forgot,<span class="ws14">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Ideal glories beam’d around the spot, <span class="ws15">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">And all that was, with me, of this poor world was not. }</span> -<span class="i2">“Yet in this world there was a single scene,</span> -<span class="i0">That I allow’d with mine to intervene.</span> -<span class="i0">This house, where never yet my feet had stray’d,</span> -<span class="i0">I with respect and timid awe survey’d;</span> -<span class="i0">With pleasing wonder I have oft-times stood,</span> -<span class="i0">To view these turrets rising o’er the wood; <span class="linenum">150</span></span> -<span class="i0">When fancy to the halls and chambers flew,</span> -<span class="i0">Large, solemn, silent, that I must not view;</span> -<span class="i0">The moat was then, and then o’er all the ground</span> -<span class="i0">Tall elms and ancient oaks stretch’d far around;</span> -<span class="i0">And where the soil forbad the nobler race,</span> -<span class="i0">Dwarf trees and humbler shrubs had found their place,</span> -<span class="i0">Forbidding man in their close hold to go,</span> -<span class="i0">Haw, gatter, holm, the service and the sloe;</span> -<span class="i0">With tangling weeds that at the bottom grew,</span> -<span class="i0">And climbers all above their feathery branches threw. <span class="linenum">160</span></span> -<span class="i0">Nor path of man or beast was there espied;<span class="ws12">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">But there the birds of darkness loved to hide,<span class="ws10">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">The loathed toad to lodge, and speckled snake to glide. }</span> -<span class="i2">“To me this hall, thus view’d in part, appear’d</span> -<span class="i0">A mansion vast. I wonder’d, and I fear’d.</span> -<span class="i0">There as I wander’d, fancy’s forming eye</span> -<span class="i0">Could gloomy cells and dungeons dark espy;</span> -<span class="i0">Winding through these, I caught th’ appalling sound<span class="ws7">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Of troubled souls, that guilty minds confound,<span class="ws12">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Where murder made its way, and mischief stalk’d around.  }</span> -<span class="i0">Above the roof were raised the midnight storms, <span class="linenum">171</span></span> -<span class="i0">And the wild lights betray’d the shadowy forms.</span> -<span class="i2">“With all these flights and fancies, then so dear,</span> -<span class="i0">I reach’d the birth-day of my twentieth year;</span> -<span class="i0">And in the evening of a day in June</span> -<span class="i0">Was singing—as I sang—some heavenly tune.</span> -<span class="i0">My native tone, indeed, was harsh and hoarse,</span> -<span class="i0">But he who feels such powers can sing of course—</span> -<span class="i0">Is there a good on earth, or gift divine,</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_377" id="Page_377">[Pg 377]</a></span> -<span class="i0">That fancy cannot say, behold! ’tis mine? <span class="linenum">180</span></span> -<span class="i2">“So was I singing, when I saw descend</span> -<span class="i0">From this old seat a lady and her friend;</span> -<span class="i0">Downward they came with steady pace and slow,</span> -<span class="i0">Arm link’d in arm, to bless my world below.</span> -<span class="i0">I knew not yet if they escaped, or chose</span> -<span class="i0">Their own free way; if they had friends or foes—</span> -<span class="i0">But near to my dominion drew the pair,</span> -<span class="i0">Link’d arm in arm, and walk’d, conversing, there.</span> -<span class="i2">“I saw them ere they came, myself unseen,</span> -<span class="i0">My lofty fence and thorny bound between— <span class="linenum">190</span></span> -<span class="i0">And one alone, one matchless face I saw,</span> -<span class="i0">And, though at distance, felt delight and awe:</span> -<span class="i0">Fancy and truth adorn’d her; fancy gave</span> -<span class="i0">Much, but not all; truth help’d to make their slave.</span> -<span class="i0">For she was lovely, all was not the vain</span> -<span class="i0">Or sickly homage of a fever’d brain;</span> -<span class="i0">No! she had beauty, such as they admire</span> -<span class="i0">Whose hope is earthly, and whose love desire;</span> -<span class="i0">Imagination might her aid bestow,</span> -<span class="i0">But she had charms that only truth could show. <span class="linenum">200</span></span> -<span class="i2">“Their dress was such as well became the place,<span class="ws4">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">But one superior; hers the air, the grace, <span class="ws12">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">The condescending looks, that spoke the nobler race. }</span> -<span class="i0">Slender she was and tall; her fairy-feet</span> -<span class="i0">Bore her right onward to my shady seat;</span> -<span class="i0">And O! I sigh’d that she would nobly dare</span> -<span class="i0">To come, nor let her friend th’ adventure share;</span> -<span class="i0">But see how I in my dominion reign,</span> -<span class="i0">And never wish to view the world again.</span> -<span class="i2">“Thus was I musing, seeing with my eyes <span class="linenum">210</span></span> -<span class="i0">These objects, with my mind her fantasies,</span> -<span class="i0">And chiefly thinking—is this maid, divine</span> -<span class="i0">As she appears, to be this queen of mine?</span> -<span class="i0">Have I from henceforth beauty in my view,</span> -<span class="i0">Not airy all, but tangible and true?</span> -<span class="i0">Here then I fix, here bound my vagrant views,</span> -<span class="i0">And here devote my heart, my time, my muse.</span> -<span class="i2">“She saw not this, though ladies early trace</span> -<span class="i0">Their beauty’s power, the glories of their face;</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_378" id="Page_378">[Pg 378]</a></span> -<span class="i0">Yet knew not this fair creature—could not know <span class="linenum">220</span></span> -<span class="i0">That new-born love that I too soon must show!</span> -<span class="i0">And I was musing—how shall I begin?</span> -<span class="i0">How make approach my unknown way to win,</span> -<span class="i0">And to that heart, as yet untouch’d, make known</span> -<span class="i0">The wound, the wish, the weakness of my own?</span> -<span class="i0">Such is my part, but——Mercy! what alarm?</span> -<span class="i0">Dare aught on earth that sovereign beauty harm?</span> -<span class="i0">Again—the shrieking charmers—how they rend</span> -<span class="i0">The gentle air——The shriekers lack a friend—</span> -<span class="i0">They are my princess and th’ attendant maid, <span class="linenum">230</span></span> -<span class="i0">In so much danger, and so much afraid!—</span> -<span class="i0">But whence the terror?—Let me haste and see <span class="ws5">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">What has befallen them who cannot flee—<span class="ws8">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Whence can the peril rise? What can that peril be? }</span> -<span class="i2">“It soon appear’d, that while this nymph divine</span> -<span class="i0">Moved on, there met her rude uncivil kine,</span> -<span class="i0">Who knew her not—the damsel was not there</span> -<span class="i0">Who kept them—all obedient—in her care;</span> -<span class="i0">Strangers they thus defied and held in scorn,</span> -<span class="i0">And stood in threat’ning posture, hoof and horn; <span class="linenum">240</span></span> -<span class="i0">While Susan—pail in hand—could stand the while</span> -<span class="i0">And prate with Daniel at a distant stile.</span> -<span class="i2">“As feeling prompted, to the place I ran,</span> -<span class="i0">Resolved to save the maids and show the man.</span> -<span class="i0">Was each a cow like that which challenged Guy, }</span> -<span class="i0">I had resolved t’ attack it, and defy<span class="ws13">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">In mortal combat! to repel or die!<span class="ws14">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">That was no time to parley—or to say,</span> -<span class="i0">I will protect you—fly in peace away!</span> -<span class="i0">Lo! yonder stile—but with an air of grace, <span class="linenum">250</span></span> -<span class="i0">As I supposed, I pointed to the place.</span> -<span class="i2">“The fair ones took me at my sign, and flew,</span> -<span class="i0">Each like a dove, and to the stile withdrew;</span> -<span class="i0">Where safe, at distance, and from terrors free,</span> -<span class="i0">They turn’d to view my beastly foes and me.</span> -<span class="i2">“I now had time my business to behold,</span> -<span class="i0">And did not like it—let the truth be told:</span> -<span class="i0">The cows, though cowards, yet in numbers strong,</span> -<span class="i0">Like other mobs, by might defended wrong;</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_379" id="Page_379">[Pg 379]</a></span> -<span class="i0">In man’s own pathway fix’d, they seem’d disposed <span class="linenum">260</span></span> -<span class="i0">For hostile measure, and in order closed,</span> -<span class="i0">Then halted near me, as I judged, to treat,</span> -<span class="i0">Before we came to triumph or defeat.</span> -<span class="i2">“I was in doubt: ’twas sore disgrace, I knew,</span> -<span class="i0">To turn my back, and let the cows pursue;</span> -<span class="i0">And should I rashly mortal strife begin,</span> -<span class="i0">’Twas all unknown who might the battle win;</span> -<span class="i0">And yet to wait, and neither fight nor fly,</span> -<span class="i0">Would mirth create—I could not that deny;</span> -<span class="i0">It look’d as if for safety I would treat, <span class="linenum">270</span></span> -<span class="i0">Nay, sue for peace—No! rather come defeat!</span> -<span class="i0">‘Look to me, loveliest of thy sex! and give</span> -<span class="i0">One cheering glance, and not a cow shall live;</span> -<span class="i0">For lo! this iron bar, this strenuous arm,</span> -<span class="i0">And those dear eyes to aid me as a charm.’</span> -<span class="i2">“Say, goddess! Victory! say, on man or cow</span> -<span class="i0">Meanest thou now to perch?—On neither now—</span> -<span class="i0">For, as I ponder’d, on their way appear’d</span> -<span class="i0">The Amazonian milker of the herd;</span> -<span class="i0">These, at the wonted signals, made a stand, <span class="linenum">280</span></span> -<span class="i0">And woo’d the nymph of the relieving hand;</span> -<span class="i0">Nor heeded now the man, who felt relief</span> -<span class="i0">Of other kind, and not unmix’d with grief;</span> -<span class="i0">For now he neither should his courage prove,</span> -<span class="i0">Nor in his dying moments boast his love.</span> -<span class="i2">“My sovereign beauty with amazement saw—</span> -<span class="i0">So she declared—the horrid things in awe;</span> -<span class="i0">Well pleased, she witness’d what respect was paid</span> -<span class="i0">By such brute natures—Every cow afraid,</span> -<span class="i0">And kept at distance by the powers of one, <span class="ws14">}</span><span class="linenum">290</span></span> -<span class="i0">Who had to her a dangerous service done,<span class="ws15">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">That prudence had declined, that valour’s self might shun. }</span> -<span class="i2">“So thought the maid, who now, beyond the stile,</span> -<span class="i0">Received her champion with a gracious smile;</span> -<span class="i0">Who now had leisure on those charms to dwell,</span> -<span class="i0">That he could never from his thought expel.</span> -<span class="i0">There are, I know, to whom a lover seems,</span> -<span class="i0">Praising his mistress, to relate his dreams;</span> -<span class="i0">But, Richard, looks like those, that angel-face</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_380" id="Page_380">[Pg 380]</a></span> -<span class="i0">Could I no more in sister-angel trace; <span class="linenum">300</span></span> -<span class="i0">O! it was more than fancy! it was more <span class="ws9">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Than in my darling views I saw before, <span class="ws9">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">When I my idol made, and my allegiance swore. }</span> -<span class="i2">“Henceforth ’twas bliss upon that face to dwell,</span> -<span class="i0">Till every trace became indelible;</span> -<span class="i0">I bless’d the cause of that alarm, her fright,</span> -<span class="i0">And all that gave me favour in her sight,</span> -<span class="i0">Who then was kind and grateful, till my mind,</span> -<span class="i0">Pleased and exulting, awe awhile resign’d.</span> -<span class="i0">For in the moment when she feels afraid, <span class="ws10">}</span><span class="linenum">310</span></span> -<span class="i0">How kindly speaks the condescending maid; <span class="ws7">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">She sees her danger near, she wants her lover’s aid. }</span> -<span class="i0">As fire electric, when discharged, will strike</span> -<span class="i0">All who receive it, and they feel alike,</span> -<span class="i0">So in the shock of danger and surprise</span> -<span class="i0">Our minds are struck, and mix, and sympathise.</span> -<span class="i2">“But danger dies, and distance comes between</span> -<span class="i0">My state and that of my all glorious queen;</span> -<span class="i0">Yet much was done—upon my mind a chain</span> -<span class="i0">Was strongly fix’d, and likely to remain; <span class="linenum">320</span></span> -<span class="i0">Listening, I grew enamour’d of the sound,</span> -<span class="i0">And felt to her my very being bound;</span> -<span class="i0">I bless’d the scene, nor felt a power to move,</span> -<span class="i0">Lost in the ecstacies of infant-love.</span> -<span class="i2">“She saw and smiled; the smile delight convey’d,</span> -<span class="i0">My love encouraged, and my act repaid.</span> -<span class="i0">In that same smile I read the charmer meant</span> -<span class="i0">To give her hero chaste encouragement;</span> -<span class="i0">It spoke, as plainly as a smile can speak,</span> -<span class="i0">‘Seek whom you love, love freely whom you seek.’ <span class="linenum">330</span></span> -<span class="i2">“Thus, when the lovely witch had wrought her charm,</span> -<span class="i0">She took th’ attendant maiden by the arm,</span> -<span class="i0">And left me fondly gazing, till no more</span> -<span class="i0">I could the shade of that dear form explore;</span> -<span class="i0">Then to my secret haunt I turn’d again,</span> -<span class="i0">Fire in my heart, and fever in my brain;</span> -<span class="i0">That face of her for ever in my view, <span class="ws16">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Whom I was henceforth fated to pursue,<span class="ws14">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">To hope I knew not what—small hope in what I knew.  }</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_381" id="Page_381">[Pg 381]</a></span> -<span class="i2">“O! my dear Richard, what a waste of time <span class="linenum">340</span></span> -<span class="i0">Gave I not thus to lunacy sublime;</span> -<span class="i0">What days, months, years, (to useful purpose lost)</span> -<span class="i0">Has not this dire infatuation cost?</span> -<span class="i0">To this fair vision I, a [bonded] slave,</span> -<span class="i0">Time, duty, credit, honour, comfort, gave;</span> -<span class="i0">Gave all—and waited for the glorious things</span> -<span class="i0">That hope expects, but fortune never brings.</span> -<span class="i0">Yet let me own, while I my fault reprove,</span> -<span class="i0">There is one blessing still affix’d to love—</span> -<span class="i0">To love like mine—for, as my soul it drew <span class="linenum">350</span></span> -<span class="i0">From reason’s path, it shunn’d dishonour’s too;</span> -<span class="i0">It made my taste refined, my feelings nice,</span> -<span class="i0">And placed an angel in the way of vice.</span> -<span class="i2">“This angel now, whom I no longer view’d,</span> -<span class="i0">Far from this scene her destined way pursued;</span> -<span class="i0">No more that mansion held a form so fair,</span> -<span class="i0">She was away, and beauty was not there.</span> -<span class="i2">“Such, my dear Richard, was my early flame,</span> -<span class="i0">My youthful frenzy—give it either name;</span> -<span class="i0">It was the withering bane of many a year, <span class="linenum">360</span></span> -<span class="i0">That past away in causeless hope and fear—</span> -<span class="i0">The hopes, the fears, that every dream could kill,</span> -<span class="i0">Or make alive, and lead my passive will.</span> -<span class="i2">“At length I learnt one name my angel bore,</span> -<span class="i0">And Rosabella I must now adore:</span> -<span class="i0">Yet knew but this—and not the favour’d place</span> -<span class="i0">That held the angel or th’ angelic race;</span> -<span class="i0">Nor where, admired, the sweet enchantress dwelt,</span> -<span class="i0">But I had lost her—that, indeed, I felt.</span> -<span class="i2">“Yet, would I say, she will at length be mine! <span class="linenum">370</span></span> -<span class="i0">Did ever hero hope or love resign?</span> -<span class="i0">Though men oppose, and fortune bids despair, }</span> -<span class="i0">She will in time her mischief well repair,<span class="ws6">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">And I, at last, shall wed this fairest of the fair! }</span> -<span class="i2">“My thrifty uncle, now return’d, began</span> -<span class="i0">To stir within me what remain’d of man;</span> -<span class="i0">My powerful frenzy painted to the life,</span> -<span class="i0">And ask’d me if I took a dream to wife?</span> -<span class="i0">Debate ensued, and, though not well content,</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_382" id="Page_382">[Pg 382]</a></span> -<span class="i0">Upon a visit to his house I went. <span class="linenum">380</span></span> -<span class="i0">He, the most saving of mankind, had still</span> -<span class="i0">Some kindred feeling; he would guide my will,</span> -<span class="i0">And teach me wisdom—so affection wrought,</span> -<span class="i0">That he to save me from destruction sought:</span> -<span class="i0">To him destruction, the most awful curse</span> -<span class="i0">Of misery’s children, was—an empty purse!</span> -<span class="i0">He his own books approved, and thought the pen</span> -<span class="i0">An useful instrument for trading men;</span> -<span class="i0">But judged a quill was never to be slit</span> -<span class="i0">Except to make it for a merchant fit. <span class="linenum">390</span></span> -<span class="i0">He, when inform’d how men of taste could write,</span> -<span class="i0">Look’d on his ledger with supreme delight;</span> -<span class="i0">Then would he laugh, and, with insulting joy,</span> -<span class="i0">Tell me aloud, ‘that’s poetry, my boy;</span> -<span class="i0">These are your golden numbers—them repeat,<span class="ws10">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">The more you have, the more you’ll find them sweet—<span class="ws3">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Their numbers move all hearts—no matter for their feet. }</span> -<span class="i0">Sir, when a man composes in this style,</span> -<span class="i0">What is to him a critic’s frown or smile?</span> -<span class="i0">What is the puppy’s censure or applause <span class="linenum">400</span></span> -<span class="i0">To the good man who on his banker draws,</span> -<span class="i0">Buys an estate, and writes upon the grounds,</span> -<span class="i0">‘Pay to A. B. an hundred thousand pounds?’</span> -<span class="i0">Thus, my dear nephew, thus your talents prove;</span> -<span class="i0">Leave verse to poets, and the poor to love.’</span> -<span class="i2">“Some months I suffered thus, compell’d to sit</span> -<span class="i0">And hear a wealthy kinsman aim at wit;</span> -<span class="i0">Yet there was something in his nature good,</span> -<span class="i0">And he had feeling for the tie of blood.</span> -<span class="i0">So, while I languish’d for my absent maid <span class="linenum">410</span></span> -<span class="i0">I some observance to my uncle paid.”</span> -<span class="i2">“Had you inquired?” said Richard.</span> -<span class="i34">“I had placed</span> -<span class="i0">Inquirers round, but nothing could be traced;</span> -<span class="i0">Of every reasoning creature at this Hall,</span> -<span class="i0">And tenant near it, I applied to all——</span> -<span class="i0">‘Tell me if she’—and I described her well—</span> -<span class="i0">‘Dwelt long a guest, or where retired to dwell?’</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_383" id="Page_383">[Pg 383]</a></span> -<span class="i0">But no! such lady they remember’d not—</span> -<span class="i0">They saw that face, strange beings! and forgot.</span> -<span class="i0">Nor was inquiry all; but I pursued <span class="linenum">420</span></span> -<span class="i0">My soul’s first wish, with hope’s vast strength endued:</span> -<span class="i0">I cross’d the seas, I went where strangers go,</span> -<span class="i0">And gazed on crowds as one who dreads a foe,</span> -<span class="i0">Or seeks a friend; and, when I sought in vain,</span> -<span class="i0">Fled to fresh crowds, and hoped, and gazed again.”</span> -<span class="i2">“It was a strong possession”—“Strong and strange,</span> -<span class="i0">I felt the evil, yet desired not change.</span> -<span class="i0">Years now had flown, nor was the passion cured,</span> -<span class="i0">But hope had life, and so was life endured;</span> -<span class="i0">The mind’s disease, with all its strength, stole on, <span class="linenum">430</span></span> -<span class="i0">Till youth, and health, and all but love were gone.</span> -<span class="i0">And there were seasons, Richard, horrid hours</span> -<span class="i0">Of mental suffering! they o’erthrew my powers,</span> -<span class="i0">And made my mind unsteady—I have still,</span> -<span class="i0">At times, a feeling of that nameless ill,</span> -<span class="i0">That is not madness—I could always tell</span> -<span class="i0">My mind was wandering—knew it was not well;</span> -<span class="i0">Felt all my loss of time, the shameful waste</span> -<span class="i0">Of talents perish’d, and of parts disgraced.</span> -<span class="i0">But though my mind was sane, there was a void— <span class="linenum">440</span></span> -<span class="i0">My understanding seem’d in part destroy’d;</span> -<span class="i0">I thought I was not of my species one,</span> -<span class="i0">But unconnected, injured and undone!</span> -<span class="i2">“While in this state, once more my uncle pray’d</span> -<span class="i0">That I would hear—I heard, and I obey’d;</span> -<span class="i0">For I was thankful that a being broke</span> -<span class="i0">On this my sadness, or an interest took</span> -<span class="i0">In my poor life—but, at his mansion, rest</span> -<span class="i0">Came with its halcyon stillness to my breast.</span> -<span class="i0">Slowly there enter’d in my mind concern <span class="linenum">450</span></span> -<span class="i0">For things about me—I would something learn,</span> -<span class="i0">And to my uncle listen; who, with joy,</span> -<span class="i0">Found that ev’n yet I could my powers employ,</span> -<span class="i0">Till I could feel new hopes my mind possess,</span> -<span class="i0">Of ease at least, if not of happiness;</span> -<span class="i0">Till, not contented, not in discontent,</span> -<span class="i0">As my good uncle counsell’d, on I went;</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_384" id="Page_384">[Pg 384]</a></span> -<span class="i0">Conscious of youth’s great error—nay, the crime</span> -<span class="i0">Of manhood now—a dreary waste of time!</span> -<span class="i0">Conscious of that account which I must give <span class="linenum">460</span></span> -<span class="i0">How life had past with me—I strove to live.</span> -<span class="i2">“Had I, like others, my first hope attain’d,</span> -<span class="i0">I must, at least, a certainty have gain’d;</span> -<span class="i0">Had I, like others, lost the hope of youth,</span> -<span class="i0">Another hope had promised greater truth;</span> -<span class="i0">But I in baseless hopes, and groundless views,</span> -<span class="i0">Was fated time, and peace, and health to lose,</span> -<span class="i0">Impell’d to seek, for ever doom’d to fail,</span> -<span class="i0">Is——I distress you—let me end my tale.</span> -<span class="i2">“Something one day occurr’d about a bill <span class="linenum">470</span></span> -<span class="i0">That was not drawn with true mercantile skill,</span> -<span class="i0">And I was ask’d and authorized to go</span> -<span class="i0">To seek the firm of Clutterbuck and Co.;</span> -<span class="i0">Their hour was past—but when I urged the case,</span> -<span class="i0">There was a youth who named a second place;</span> -<span class="i0">Where, on occasions of important kind,</span> -<span class="i0">I might the man of occupation find</span> -<span class="i0">In his retirement, where he found repose</span> -<span class="i0">From the vexations that in business rose.</span> -<span class="i0">I found, though not with ease, this private seat <span class="linenum">480</span></span> -<span class="i0">Of soothing quiet, wisdom’s still retreat.</span> -<span class="i2">“The house was good, but not so pure and clean</span> -<span class="i0">As I had houses of retirement seen;</span> -<span class="i0">Yet men, I knew, of meditation deep,</span> -<span class="i0">Love not their maidens should their studies sweep;</span> -<span class="i0">His room I saw, and must acknowledge, there</span> -<span class="i0">Were not the signs of cleanliness or care:</span> -<span class="i0">A female servant, void of female grace,</span> -<span class="i0">Loose in attire, proceeded to the place;</span> -<span class="i0">She stared intrusive on my slender frame, <span class="linenum">490</span></span> -<span class="i0">And boldly ask’d my business and my name.</span> -<span class="i2">“I gave them both; and, left to be amused,</span> -<span class="i0">Well as I might, the parlour I perused.</span> -<span class="i0">The shutters half unclosed, the curtains fell <span class="ws7">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Half down, and rested on the window-sill, <span class="ws8">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">And thus, confusedly, made the room half visible. }</span> -<span class="i0">Late as it was, the little parlour bore</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_385" id="Page_385">[Pg 385]</a></span> -<span class="i0">Some tell-tale tokens of the night before;</span> -<span class="i0">There were strange sights and scents about the room,</span> -<span class="i0">Of food high-season’d, and of strong perfume; <span class="linenum">500</span></span> -<span class="i0">Two unmatch’d sofas ample rents display’d;</span> -<span class="i0">Carpet and curtains were alike decay’d;</span> -<span class="i0">A large old mirror, with once-gilded frame,</span> -<span class="i0">Reflected prints that I forbear to name,</span> -<span class="i0">Such as a youth might purchase—but, in truth,</span> -<span class="i0">Not a sedate or sober-minded youth;</span> -<span class="i0">The cinders yet were sleeping in the grate, <span class="ws6">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Warm from the fire, continued large and late,<span class="ws4">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">As left by careless folk in their neglected state;  }</span> -<span class="i0">The chairs in haste seem’d whirl’d about the room,<span class="ws3">}</span><span class="linenum">510</span></span> -<span class="i0">As when the sons of riot hurry home,<span class="ws14">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">And leave the troubled place to solitude and gloom.  }</span> -<span class="i2">“All this, for I had ample time, I saw,</span> -<span class="i0">And prudence question’d—should we not withdraw?</span> -<span class="i0">For he who makes me thus on business wait,</span> -<span class="i0">Is not for business in a proper state;</span> -<span class="i0">But man there was not, was not he for whom</span> -<span class="i0">To this convenient lodging I was come;</span> -<span class="i0">No! but a lady’s voice was heard to call</span> -<span class="i0">On my attention—and she had it all; <span class="linenum">520</span></span> -<span class="i0">For lo! she enters, speaking ere in sight,</span> -<span class="i0">‘Monsieur! I shall not want the chair to-night—</span> -<span class="i0">Where shall I see him?—This dear hour atones</span> -<span class="i0">For all affection’s hopeless sighs and groans’—</span> -<span class="i0">Then, turning to me—‘Art thou come at last?</span> -<span class="i0">A thousand welcomes—be forgot the past;</span> -<span class="i0">Forgotten all the grief that absence brings,</span> -<span class="i0">Fear that torments, and jealousy that stings—</span> -<span class="i0">All that is cold, injurious, and unkind,</span> -<span class="i0">Be it for ever banish’d from the mind; <span class="linenum">530</span></span> -<span class="i0">And in that mind, and in that heart be now</span> -<span class="i0">The soft endearment, and the binding vow!’</span> -<span class="i2">“She spoke—and o’er the practised features threw</span> -<span class="i0">The looks that reason charm, and strength subdue.</span> -<span class="i2">“Will you not ask, how I beheld that face,</span> -<span class="i0">Or read that mind, and read it in that place?</span> -<span class="i0">I have tried, Richard, oft-times, and in vain,</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_386" id="Page_386">[Pg 386]</a></span> -<span class="i0">To trace my thoughts, and to review their train—</span> -<span class="i0">If train there were—that meadow, grove, and stile;</span> -<span class="i0">The fright, th’ escape, her sweetness and her smile; <span class="linenum">540</span></span> -<span class="i0">Years since elapsed, and hope, from year to year,</span> -<span class="i0">To find her free—and then to find her here!</span> -<span class="i2">“But is it she?—O! yes; the rose is dead;</span> -<span class="i0">All beauty, fragrance, freshness, glory fled;</span> -<span class="i0">But yet ’tis she—the same and not the same—</span> -<span class="i0">Who to my bower an heavenly being came;</span> -<span class="i0">Who waked my soul’s first thought of real bliss;</span> -<span class="i0">Whom long I sought; and now I find her—this.</span> -<span class="i2">“I cannot paint her—something I had seen</span> -<span class="i0">So pale and slim, and tawdry and unclean; <span class="linenum">550</span></span> -<span class="i0">With haggard looks, of vice and wo the prey,</span> -<span class="i0">Laughing in langour, miserably gay.</span> -<span class="i0">Her face, where face appear’d, was amply spread, <span class="ws6">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">By art’s coarse pencil, with ill-chosen red, <span class="ws12">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">The flower’s fictitious bloom, the blushing of the dead; }</span> -<span class="i0">But still the features were the same, and strange</span> -<span class="i0">My view of both—the sameness and the change,</span> -<span class="i0">That fix’d me gazing and my eye enchain’d,</span> -<span class="i0">Although so little of herself remain’d;</span> -<span class="i0">It is the creature whom I loved, and yet <span class="linenum">560</span></span> -<span class="i0">Is far unlike her—Would I could forget</span> -<span class="i0">The angel or her fall! the once adored</span> -<span class="i0">Or now despised! the worshipp’d or deplored!</span> -<span class="i2">“‘O! Rosabella!’ I prepared to say, <span class="ws13">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">‘Whom I have loved,’ but prudence whisper’d nay, }</span> -<span class="i0">And folly grew ashamed—discretion had her day.<span class="ws3">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">She gave her hand; which, as I lightly press’d,</span> -<span class="i0">The cold but ardent grasp my soul oppress’d;</span> -<span class="i0">The ruin’d girl disturb’d me, and my eyes</span> -<span class="i0">Look’d, I conceive, both sorrow and surprise. <span class="linenum">570</span></span> -<span class="i2">“I spoke my business—‘He,’ she answer’d, ‘comes</span> -<span class="i0">And lodges here—he has the backward rooms—</span> -<span class="i0">He now is absent, and I chanced to hear</span> -<span class="i0">Will not before to-morrow eve appear,</span> -<span class="i0">And may be longer absent——O! the night</span> -<span class="i0">When you preserved me in that horrid fright;</span> -<span class="i0">A thousand, thousand times, asleep, awake,</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_387" id="Page_387">[Pg 387]</a></span> -<span class="i0">I thought of what you ventured for my sake—</span> -<span class="i0">Now, have you thought—yet tell me so—deceive</span> -<span class="i0">Your Rosabella, willing to believe! <span class="linenum">580</span></span> -<span class="i0">O! there is something in love’s first-born pain</span> -<span class="i0">Sweeter than bliss—it never comes again—</span> -<span class="i0">But has your heart been faithful?’—Here my pride,</span> -<span class="i0">To anger rising, her attempt defied—</span> -<span class="i0">‘My faith must childish in your sight appear,</span> -<span class="i0">Who have been faithful—to how many, dear?’</span> -<span class="i2">“If words had fail’d, a look explain’d their style,</span> -<span class="i0">She could not blush assent, but she could smile.</span> -<span class="i0">Good heaven! I thought, have I rejected fame,</span> -<span class="i0">Credit, and wealth, for one who smiles at shame? <span class="linenum">590</span></span> -<span class="i2">“She saw me thoughtful—saw it, as I guess’d,</span> -<span class="i0">With some concern, though nothing she express’d.</span> -<span class="i2">“‘Come, my dear friend, discard that look of care,</span> -<span class="i0">All things were made to be, as all things are;</span> -<span class="i0">All to seek pleasure as the end design’d,</span> -<span class="i0">The only good in matter or in mind;</span> -<span class="i0">So was I taught by one, who gave me all</span> -<span class="i0">That my experienced heart can wisdom call.</span> -<span class="i2">“‘I saw thee young, love’s soft obedient slave,</span> -<span class="i0">And many a sigh to my young lover gave; <span class="linenum">600</span></span> -<span class="i0">And I had, spite of cowardice or cow,</span> -<span class="i0">Return’d thy passion, and exchanged my vow;</span> -<span class="i0">But, while I thought to bait the amorous hook,</span> -<span class="i0">One set for me my eager fancy took;</span> -<span class="i0">There was a crafty eye, that far could see,</span> -<span class="i0">And through my failings fascinated me:</span> -<span class="i0">Mine was a childish wish, to please my boy;</span> -<span class="i0">His a design, his wishes to enjoy.</span> -<span class="i0">O! we have both about the world been tost,</span> -<span class="i0">Thy gain I know not—I, they cry, am lost; <span class="linenum">610</span></span> -<span class="i0">So let the wise ones talk; they talk in vain,</span> -<span class="i0">And are mistaken both in loss and gain;</span> -<span class="i0">’Tis gain to get whatever life affords,</span> -<span class="i0">’Tis loss to spend our time in empty words.</span> -<span class="i2">“‘I was a girl, and thou a boy wert then,</span> -<span class="i0">Nor aught of women knew, nor I of men;</span> -<span class="i0">But I have traffick’d in the world, and thou,</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_388" id="Page_388">[Pg 388]</a></span> -<span class="i0">Doubtless, canst boast of thy experience now;</span> -<span class="i0">Let us the knowledge we have gain’d produce,</span> -<span class="i0">And kindly turn it to our common use.’ <span class="linenum">620</span></span> -<span class="i2">“Thus spoke the siren in voluptuous style, <span class="ws5">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">While I stood gazing and perplex’d the while, <span class="ws4">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Chain’d by that voice, confounded by that smile. }</span> -<span class="i0">And then she sang, and changed from grave to gay,</span> -<span class="i0">Till all reproach and anger died away.</span> -</div></div> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i2">“‘My Damon was the first to wake</span> -<span class="i4">The gentle flame that cannot die;</span> -<span class="i2">My Damon is the last to take</span> -<span class="i4">The faithful bosom’s softest sigh:</span> -<span class="i2">The life between is nothing worth, <span class="linenum">630</span></span> -<span class="i4">O! cast it from thy thought away;</span> -<span class="i2">Think of the day that gave it birth,</span> -<span class="i4">And this its sweet returning day.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i2">“‘Buried be all that has been done,</span> -<span class="i5">Or say that naught is done amiss;</span> -<span class="i2">For who the dangerous path can shun</span> -<span class="i4">In such bewildering world as this?</span> -<span class="i2">But love can every fault forgive,</span> -<span class="i4">Or with a tender look reprove;</span> -<span class="i2">And now let naught in memory live, <span class="linenum">640</span></span> -<span class="i4">But that we meet, and that we love.’”</span> -</div></div> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i2">“And then she moved my pity; for she wept,</span> -<span class="i0">And told her miseries till resentment slept;</span> -<span class="i0">For when she saw she could not reason blind,</span> -<span class="i0">She pour’d her heart’s whole sorrows on my mind,</span> -<span class="i0">With features graven on my soul, with sighs</span> -<span class="i0">Seen but not heard, with soft imploring eyes,</span> -<span class="i0">And voice that needed not, but had the aid</span> -<span class="i0">Of powerful words to soften and persuade.</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_389" id="Page_389">[Pg 389]</a></span> -<span class="i0">O! I repent me of the past; and sure <span class="linenum">650</span></span> -<span class="i0">Grief and repentance make the bosom pure;</span> -<span class="i0">Yet meet thee not with clean and single heart,</span> -<span class="i0">As on the day we met—and but to part!</span> -<span class="i0">Ere I had drank the cup that to my lip</span> -<span class="i0">Was held, and press’d till I was forced to sip.</span> -<span class="i0">I drank indeed, but never ceased to hate—</span> -<span class="i0">It poison’d, but could not intoxicate.</span> -<span class="i0">T’ excuse my fall I plead not love’s excess,</span> -<span class="i0">But a weak orphan’s need and loneliness.</span> -<span class="i0">I had no parent upon earth—no door <span class="linenum">660</span></span> -<span class="i0">Was oped to me—young, innocent, and poor,</span> -<span class="i0">Vain, tender, and resentful—and my friend,</span> -<span class="i0">Jealous of one who must on her depend,</span> -<span class="i0">Making life misery—You could witness then</span> -<span class="i0">That I was precious in the eyes of men;</span> -<span class="i0">So, made by them a goddess, and denied</span> -<span class="i0">Respect and notice by the women’s pride;</span> -<span class="i0">Here scorn’d, there worshipp’d—will it strange appear,</span> -<span class="i0">Allured and driven, that I settled here?</span> -<span class="i0">Yet loved it not; and never have I pass’d <span class="linenum">670</span></span> -<span class="i0">One day, and wish’d another like the last.</span> -<span class="i0">There was a fallen angel, I have read,</span> -<span class="i0">For whom their tears the sister-angels shed,</span> -<span class="i0">Because, although she ventured to rebel,</span> -<span class="i0">She was not minded like a child of hell.—</span> -<span class="i0">Such is my lot! and will it not be given</span> -<span class="i0">To grief like mine, that I may think of heaven;</span> -<span class="i0">Behold how there the glorious creatures shine,</span> -<span class="i0">And all my soul to grief and hope resign?’”</span> -<span class="i2">“I wonder’d, doubting—and, is this a fact, <span class="linenum">680</span></span> -<span class="i0">I thought, or part thou art disposed to act?</span> -<span class="i2">“‘Is it not written, He, who came to save</span> -<span class="i0">Sinners, the sins of deepest dye forgave;</span> -<span class="i0">That he his mercy to the sufferers dealt,</span> -<span class="i0">And pardon’d error when the ill was felt?</span> -<span class="i0">Yes! I would hope, there is an eye that reads</span> -<span class="i0">What is within, and sees the heart that bleeds——</span> -<span class="i0">But who on earth will one so lost deplore,</span> -<span class="i0">And who will help that lost one to restore?</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_390" id="Page_390">[Pg 390]</a></span> -<span class="i0">‘Who will on trust the sigh of grief receive; <span class="linenum">690</span></span> -<span class="i0">And—all things warring with belief—believe?’</span> -<span class="i2">“Soften’d, I said—‘Be mine the hand and heart,</span> -<span class="i0">If with your world you will consent to part.’</span> -<span class="i0">She would—she tried——Alas! she did not know</span> -<span class="i0">How deeply rooted evil habits grow:</span> -<span class="i0">She felt the truth upon her spirits press,</span> -<span class="i0">But wanted ease, indulgence, show, excess,</span> -<span class="i0">Voluptuous banquets, pleasures—not refined,</span> -<span class="i0">But such as soothe to sleep th’ opposing mind—</span> -<span class="i0">She look’d for idle vice, the time to kill, <span class="linenum">700</span></span> -<span class="i0">And subtle, strong apologies for ill;</span> -<span class="i0">And thus her yielding, unresisting soul</span> -<span class="i0">Sank, and let sin confuse her and control:</span> -<span class="i0">Pleasures that brought disgust yet brought relief,</span> -<span class="i0">And minds she hated help’d to war with grief.”</span> -<span class="i2">“Thus then she perish’d?”—</span> -<span class="i26">“Nay—but thus she proved</span> -<span class="i0">Slave to the vices that she never loved;</span> -<span class="i0">But, while she thus her better thoughts opposed,</span> -<span class="i0">And woo’d the world, the world’s deceptions closed.—</span> -<span class="i0">I had long lost her; but I sought in vain <span class="linenum">710</span></span> -<span class="i0">To banish pity—still she gave me pain;</span> -<span class="i0">Still I desired to aid her—to direct,</span> -<span class="i0">And wish’d the world, that won her, to reject;</span> -<span class="i0">Nor wish’d in vain—there came, at length, request</span> -<span class="i0">That I would see a wretch with grief oppress’d,</span> -<span class="i0">By guilt affrighted—and I went to trace</span> -<span class="i0">Once more the vice-worn features of that face,</span> -<span class="i0">That sin-wreck’d being! and I saw her laid</span> -<span class="i0">Where never worldly joy a visit paid,</span> -<span class="i0">That world receding fast! the world to come <span class="linenum">720</span></span> -<span class="i0">Conceal’d in terror, ignorance, and gloom,</span> -<span class="i0">Sins, sorrow, and neglect: with not a spark</span> -<span class="i0">Of vital hope—all horrible and dark—</span> -<span class="i0">It frighten’d me!—I thought, and shall not I<span class="ws3">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Thus feel? thus fear?—this danger can I fly?  }</span> -<span class="i0">Do I so wisely live that I can calmly die?<span class="ws5">}</span></span> -<span class="i2">“The wants I saw I could supply with ease,</span> -<span class="i0">But there were wants of other kind than these;</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_391" id="Page_391">[Pg 391]</a></span> -<span class="i0">Th’ awakening thought, the hope-inspiring view— }</span> -<span class="i0">The doctrines awful, grand, alarming, true—<span class="ws7">}</span><span class="linenum">730</span></span> -<span class="i0">Most painful to the soul, and yet most healing too.  }</span> -<span class="i0">Still, I could something offer, and could send</span> -<span class="i0">For other aid—a more important friend,</span> -<span class="i0">Whose duty call’d him, and his love no less,</span> -<span class="i0">To help the grieving spirit in distress;</span> -<span class="i0">To save in that sad hour the drooping prey,</span> -<span class="i0">And from its victim drive despair away.</span> -<span class="i0">All decent comfort[s] round the sick were seen;</span> -<span class="i0">The female helpers quiet, sober, clean;</span> -<span class="i0">Her kind physician with a smile appear’d, <span class="linenum">740</span></span> -<span class="i0">And zealous love the pious friend endear’d;</span> -<span class="i0">While I, with mix’d sensations, could inquire,</span> -<span class="i0">‘Hast thou one wish, one unfulfill’d desire?</span> -<span class="i0">Speak every thought, nor unindulged depart,</span> -<span class="i0">If I can make thee happier than thou art.’</span> -<span class="i2">“Yes! there was yet a female friend, an old</span> -<span class="i0">And grieving nurse! to whom it should be told—</span> -<span class="i0">I would tell—that she, her child, had fail’d,</span> -<span class="i0">And turn’d from truth! yet truth at length prevail’d.</span> -<span class="i2">“’Twas in that chamber, Richard, I began <span class="linenum">750</span></span> -<span class="i0">To think more deeply of the end of man:</span> -<span class="i0">Was it to jostle all his fellows by,</span> -<span class="i0">To run before them, and say, ‘here am I,</span> -<span class="i0">Fall down, and worship?’—Was it, life throughout,</span> -<span class="i0">With circumspection keen to hunt about,</span> -<span class="i0">As spaniels for their game, where might be found</span> -<span class="i0">Abundance more for coffers that abound?</span> -<span class="i0">Or was it life’s enjoyments to prefer,</span> -<span class="i0">Like this poor girl, and then to die like her?</span> -<span class="i0">No! He, who gave the faculties, design’d <span class="linenum">760</span></span> -<span class="i0">Another use for the immortal mind:</span> -<span class="i0">There is a state in which it will appear</span> -<span class="i0">With all the good and ill contracted here;</span> -<span class="i0">With gain and loss, improvement and defect;<span class="ws10">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">And then, my soul! what hast thou to expect <span class="ws10">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">For talents laid aside, life’s waste, and time’s neglect?  }</span> -<span class="i2">“Still as I went came other change—the frame</span> -<span class="i0">And features wasted, and yet slowly came</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_392" id="Page_392">[Pg 392]</a></span> -<span class="i0">The end; and so inaudible the breath,</span> -<span class="i0">And still the breathing, we exclaim’d—‘’tis death!’ <span class="linenum">770</span></span> -<span class="i0">But death it was not: when, indeed, she died,</span> -<span class="i0">I sat and his last gentle stroke espied:</span> -<span class="i0">When—as it came—or did my fancy trace</span> -<span class="i0">That lively, lovely flushing o’er the face,</span> -<span class="i0">Bringing back all that my young heart impress’d?</span> -<span class="i0">It came—and went!—She sigh’d, and was at rest!</span> -<span class="i2">“Adieu, I said, fair Frailty! dearly cost</span> -<span class="i0">The love I bore thee—time and treasure lost;</span> -<span class="i0">And I have suffer’d many years in vain;</span> -<span class="i0">Now let me something in my sorrows gain: <span class="linenum">780</span></span> -<span class="i0">Heaven would not all this wo for man intend</span> -<span class="i0">If man’s existence with his we should end;</span> -<span class="i0">Heaven would not pain, and grief, and anguish give,</span> -<span class="i0">If man was not by discipline to live;</span> -<span class="i0">And for that brighter, better world prepare,<span class="ws10">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">That souls with souls, when purified, shall share,<span class="ws5">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Those stains all done away that must not enter there. }</span> -<span class="i2">“Home I return’d, with spirits in that state</span> -<span class="i0">Of vacant wo I strive not to relate;</span> -<span class="i0">Nor how, deprived of all her hope and strength, <span class="linenum">790</span></span> -<span class="i0">My soul turn’d feebly to the world at length.</span> -<span class="i0">I travell’d then till health again resumed</span> -<span class="i0">Its former seat—I must not say re-bloom’d;</span> -<span class="i0">And then I fill’d, not loth, that favourite place</span> -<span class="i0">That has enrich’d some seniors of our race;</span> -<span class="i0">Patient and dull I grew; my uncle’s praise</span> -<span class="i0">Was largely dealt me on my better days;</span> -<span class="i0">A love of money—other love at rest—</span> -<span class="i0">Came creeping on, and settled in my breast;</span> -<span class="i0">The force of habit held me to the oar, <span class="linenum">800</span></span> -<span class="i0">Till I could relish what I scorn’d before:</span> -<span class="i0">I now could talk and scheme with <i>men of sense</i>,</span> -<span class="i0">Who deal for millions, and who sigh for pence;</span> -<span class="i0">And grew so like them, that I heard with joy</span> -<span class="i0">Old Blueskin said I was a pretty boy;</span> -<span class="i0">For I possess’d the caution, with the zeal,</span> -<span class="i0">That all true lovers of their interest feel.</span> -<span class="i0">Exalted praise! and to the creature due</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_393" id="Page_393">[Pg 393]</a></span> -<span class="i0">Who loves that interest solely to pursue.</span> -<span class="i2">“But I was sick, and sickness brought disgust; <span class="linenum">810</span></span> -<span class="i0">My peace I could not to my profits trust:</span> -<span class="i0">Again some views of brighter kind appear’d,</span> -<span class="i0">My heart was humbled, and my mind was clear’d;</span> -<span class="i0">I felt those helps that souls diseased restore,</span> -<span class="i0">And that cold frenzy, avarice, raged no more.</span> -<span class="i0">From dreams of boundless wealth I then arose; }</span> -<span class="i0">This place, the scene of infant bliss, I chose;<span class="ws4">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">And here I find relief, and here I seek repose. <span class="ws3">}</span></span> -<span class="i2">“Yet much is lost, and not yet much is found,</span> -<span class="i0">But what remains, I would believe, is sound: <span class="linenum">820</span></span> -<span class="i0">That first wild passion, that last mean desire,</span> -<span class="i0">Are felt no more; but holier hopes require</span> -<span class="i0">A mind prepared and steady—my reform</span> -<span class="i0">Has fears like his, who, suffering in a storm,</span> -<span class="i0">Is on a rich but unknown country cast,</span> -<span class="i0">The future fearing, while he feels the past;</span> -<span class="i0">But whose more cheerful mind, with hope imbued,</span> -<span class="i0">Sees through receding clouds the rising good.”</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_394" id="Page_394">[Pg 394]</a></span> -</div></div></div> - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> -<p class="f150"><b>TALES OF THE HALL.</b></p> -<h3>BOOK VIII.</h3> -<p class="f110"><i>THE SISTERS.</i></p> -</div> - -<p class="blockquot"> -Morning Walk and Conversation—Visit at a Cottage—Characters -of the Sisters—Lucy and Jane—Their Lovers—Their Friend the -Banker and his Lady—Their Intimacy—Its Consequence—Different -Conduct of the Lovers—The Effect upon the Sisters—Their present -State—The Influence of their Fortune upon the Minds of either. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_395" id="Page_395">[Pg 395]</a></span></p> - -<p class="f150 break space-above2"><b>TALES OF THE HALL.</b></p> -<p class="f120"><b>BOOK VIII.</b></p> -<p class="f110"><i>THE SISTERS.</i></p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poem2"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The morning shone in cloudless beauty bright;</span> -<span class="i0">Richard his letters read with much delight;</span> -<span class="i0">George from his pillow rose in happy tone,</span> -<span class="i0">His bosom’s lord sat lightly on his throne.</span> -<span class="i0">They read the morning news—they saw the sky</span> -<span class="i0">Inviting call’d them, and the earth was dry.</span> -<span class="i2">“The day invites us, brother,” said the ’squire;</span> -<span class="i0">“Come, and I’ll show thee something to admire:</span> -<span class="i0">We still may beauty in our prospects trace;</span> -<span class="i0">If not, we have them in both mind and face. <span class="linenum">10</span></span> -<span class="i2">“’Tis but two miles—to let such women live</span> -<span class="i0">Unseen of him, what reason can I give?</span> -<span class="i0">Why should not Richard to the girls be known?</span> -<span class="i0">Would I have all their friendship for my own?—</span> -<span class="i0">Brother, there dwell, yon northern hill below,</span> -<span class="i0">Two favourite maidens, whom ’tis good to know;</span> -<span class="i0">Young, but experienced; dwellers in a cot,</span> -<span class="i0">Where they sustain and dignify their lot;</span> -<span class="i0">The best good girls in all our world below—</span> -<span class="i0">O! you must know them—Come! and you shall know. <span class="linenum">20</span></span> -<span class="i2">“But lo! the morning wastes—here, Jacob, stir—</span> -<span class="i0">If Phœbe comes, do you attend to her;</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_396" id="Page_396">[Pg 396]</a></span> -<span class="i0">And let not Mary get a chattering press</span> -<span class="i0">Of idle girls to hear of her distress.</span> -<span class="i0">Ask her to wait till my return—and hide</span> -<span class="i0">From her meek mind your plenty and your pride;</span> -<span class="i0">Nor vex a creature, humble, sad, and still,</span> -<span class="i0">By your coarse bounty, and your rude good-will.”</span> -<span class="i2">This said, the brothers hasten’d on their way,</span> -<span class="i0">With all the foretaste of a pleasant day. <span class="linenum">30</span></span> -<span class="i0">The morning purpose in the mind had fix’d</span> -<span class="i0">The leading thought, and that with others mix’d.</span> -<span class="i2">“How well it is,” said George, “when we possess</span> -<span class="i0">The strength that bears us up in our distress;</span> -<span class="i0">And need not the resources of our pride,</span> -<span class="i0">Our fall from greatness and our wants to hide;</span> -<span class="i0">But have the spirit and the wish to show,</span> -<span class="i0">We know our wants as well as others know.</span> -<span class="i0">’Tis true, the rapid turns of fortune’s wheel</span> -<span class="i0">Make even the virtuous and the humble feel: <span class="linenum">40</span></span> -<span class="i0">They for a time must suffer, and but few</span> -<span class="i0">Can bear their sorrows and our pity too.</span> -<span class="i2">“Hence all these small expedients, day by day,</span> -<span class="i0">Are used to hide the evils they betray:</span> -<span class="i0">When, if our pity chances to be seen,<span class="ws14">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">The wounded pride retorts, with anger keen, <span class="ws8">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">And man’s insulted grief takes refuge in his spleen.  }</span> -<span class="i2">“When Timon’s board contains a single dish,</span> -<span class="i0">Timon talks much of market-men and fish,</span> -<span class="i0">Forgetful servants, and th’ infernal cook, <span class="linenum">50</span></span> -<span class="i0">Who always spoil’d whate’er she undertook.</span> -<span class="i2">“But say it tries us from our height to fall,</span> -<span class="i0">Yet is not life itself a trial all?</span> -<span class="i0">And not a virtue in the bosom lives,</span> -<span class="i0">That gives such ready pay as patience gives;</span> -<span class="i0">That pure submission to the ruling mind,</span> -<span class="i0">Fix’d, but not forced; obedient, but not blind,</span> -<span class="i0">The will of heaven to make her own she tries,</span> -<span class="i0">Or makes her own to heaven a sacrifice.</span> -<span class="i2">“And is there aught on earth so rich or rare, <span class="linenum">60</span></span> -<span class="i0">Whose pleasures may with virtue’s pains compare?</span> -<span class="i0">This fruit of patience, this the pure delight</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_397" id="Page_397">[Pg 397]</a></span> -<span class="i0">That ’tis a trial in her Judge’s sight;</span> -<span class="i0">Her part still striving duty to sustain,</span> -<span class="i0">Not spurning pleasure, not defying pain;</span> -<span class="i0">Never in triumph till her race be won,</span> -<span class="i0">And never fainting till her work be done.”</span> -<span class="i2">With thoughts like these they reach’d the village brook,</span> -<span class="i0">And saw a lady sitting with her book;</span> -<span class="i0">And so engaged she heard not, till the men <span class="linenum">70</span></span> -<span class="i0">Were at her side, nor was she frighten’d then;</span> -<span class="i0">But to her friend, the ’squire, his smile return’d,</span> -<span class="i0">Through which the latent sadness he discern’d.</span> -<span class="i0">The stranger-brother at the cottage door</span> -<span class="i0">Was now admitted, and was strange no more;</span> -<span class="i0">Then of an absent sister he was told,</span> -<span class="i0">Whom they were not at present to behold;</span> -<span class="i0">Something was said of nerves, and that disease,</span> -<span class="i0">Whose varying powers on mind and body seize,</span> -<span class="i0">Enfeebling both!—Here chose they to remain <span class="linenum">80</span></span> -<span class="i0">One hour in peace, and then return’d again.</span> -<span class="i2">“I know not why,” said Richard, “but I feel</span> -<span class="i0">The warmest pity on my bosom steal</span> -<span class="i0">For that dear maid! How well her looks express</span> -<span class="i0">For this world’s good a cherish’d hopelessness!</span> -<span class="i0">A resignation that is so entire,</span> -<span class="i0">It feels not now the stirrings of desire;</span> -<span class="i0">What now to her is all the world esteems?</span> -<span class="i0">She is awake, and cares not for its dreams;</span> -<span class="i0">But moves while yet on earth, as one above <span class="linenum">90</span></span> -<span class="i0">Its hopes and fears—it[s] loathing and its love.</span> -<span class="i2">“But shall I learn,” said he, “these sisters’ fate?”—</span> -<span class="i0">And found his brother willing to relate.</span> -</div></div> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i2">“The girls were orphans early; yet I saw,</span> -<span class="i0">When young, their father—his profession law;</span> -<span class="i0">He left them but a competence, a store</span> -<span class="i0">That made his daughters neither rich nor poor;</span> -<span class="i0">Not rich, compared with some who dwelt around;</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_398" id="Page_398">[Pg 398]</a></span> -<span class="i0">Not poor, for want they neither fear’d nor found;</span> -<span class="i0">Their guardian uncle was both kind and just, <span class="linenum">100</span></span> -<span class="i0">One whom a parent might in dying trust;</span> -<span class="i0">Who, in their youth, the trusted store improved,</span> -<span class="i0">And, when he ceased to guide them, fondly loved.</span> -<span class="i2">“These sister beauties were in fact the grace</span> -<span class="i0">Of yon small town,—it was their native place;</span> -<span class="i0">Like Saul’s famed daughters were the lovely twain,</span> -<span class="i0">As Micah, Lucy, and as Merab, Jane:</span> -<span class="i0">For this was tall, with free commanding air,</span> -<span class="i0">And that was mild, and delicate, and fair.</span> -<span class="i2">“Jane had an arch delusive smile, that charm’d <span class="linenum">110</span></span> -<span class="i0">And threaten’d too; alluring, it alarm’d;</span> -<span class="i0">The smile of Lucy her approval told,</span> -<span class="i0">Cheerful, not changing; neither kind nor cold.</span> -<span class="i2">“When children, Lucy love alone possess’d,</span> -<span class="i0">Jane was more punished and was more caress’d;</span> -<span class="i0">If told the childish wishes, one bespoke</span> -<span class="i0">A lamb, a bird, a garden, and a brook;</span> -<span class="i0">The other wish’d a joy unknown, a rout</span> -<span class="i0">Or crowded ball, and to be first led out.</span> -<span class="i2">“Lucy loved all that grew upon the ground, <span class="linenum">120</span></span> -<span class="i0">And loveliness in all things living found;</span> -<span class="i0">The gilded fly, the fern upon the wall,</span> -<span class="i0">Were nature’s works, and admirable all;</span> -<span class="i0">Pleased with indulgence of so cheap a kind,</span> -<span class="i0">Its cheapness never discomposed her mind.</span> -<span class="i2">“Jane had no liking for such things as these,</span> -<span class="i0">Things pleasing her must her superiors please;</span> -<span class="i0">The costly flower was precious in her eyes,</span> -<span class="i0">That skill can vary, or that money buys;</span> -<span class="i0">Her taste was good, but she was still afraid, <span class="linenum">130</span></span> -<span class="i0">Till fashion sanction’d the remarks she made.</span> -<span class="i2">“The sisters read, and Jane with some delight,</span> -<span class="i0">The satires keen that fear or rage excite,</span> -<span class="i0">That men in power attack, and ladies high,</span> -<span class="i0">And give broad hints that we may know them by.</span> -<span class="i0">She was amused when sent to haunted rooms,</span> -<span class="i0">Or some dark passage where the spirit comes</span> -<span class="i0">Of one once murder’d! then she laughing read,</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_399" id="Page_399">[Pg 399]</a></span> -<span class="i0">And felt at once the folly and the dread.</span> -<span class="i0">As rustic girls to crafty gipsies fly, <span class="linenum">140</span></span> -<span class="i0">And trust the liar though they fear the lie,</span> -<span class="i0">Or as a patient, urged by grievous pains,</span> -<span class="i0">Will fee the daring quack whom he disdains:</span> -<span class="i0">So Jane was pleased to see the beckoning hand,</span> -<span class="i0">And trust the magic of the Ratcliffe-wand.</span> -<span class="i2">“In her religion—for her mind, though light,</span> -<span class="i0">Was not disposed our better views to slight—</span> -<span class="i0">Her favourite authors were a solemn kind,</span> -<span class="i0">Who fill with dark mysterious thoughts the mind;</span> -<span class="i0">And who with such conceits her fancy plied, <span class="linenum">150</span></span> -<span class="i0">Became her friend, philosopher, and guide.</span> -<span class="i2">“She made the Progress of the Pilgrim one</span> -<span class="i0">To build a thousand pleasant views upon;</span> -<span class="i0">All that connects us with a world above</span> -<span class="i0">She loved to fancy, and she long’d to prove;</span> -<span class="i0">Well would the poet please her, who could lead</span> -<span class="i0">Her fancy forth, yet keep untouch’d her creed.</span> -<span class="i2">“Led by an early custom, Lucy spied,</span> -<span class="i0">When she awaked, the Bible at her side;</span> -<span class="i0">That, ere she ventured on a world of care,<span class="ws7">}</span><span class="linenum">160</span></span> -<span class="i0">She might for trials, joys or pains prepare, <span class="ws6">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">For every dart a shield, a guard for every snare.  }</span> -<span class="i2">“She read not much of high heroic deeds,</span> -<span class="i0">Where man the measure of man’s power exceeds;</span> -<span class="i0">But gave to luckless love and fate severe</span> -<span class="i0">Her tenderest pity and her softest tear.</span> -<span class="i2">“She mix’d not faith with fable, but she trod</span> -<span class="i0">Right onward, cautious in the ways of God;</span> -<span class="i0">Nor did she dare to launch on seas unknown,<span class="ws10">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">In search of truths by some adventurers shown,<span class="ws8">}</span><span class="linenum">170</span></span> -<span class="i0">But her own compass used, and kept a course her own. }</span> -<span class="i2">“The maidens both their loyalty declared,</span> -<span class="i0">And in the glory of their country shared;</span> -<span class="i0">But Jane that glory felt with proud delight,</span> -<span class="i0">When England’s foes were vanquish’d in the fight;</span> -<span class="i0">While Lucy’s feelings for the brave who bled</span> -<span class="i0">Put all such glorious triumphs from her head.</span> -<span class="i2">“They both were frugal; Lucy from the fear</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_400" id="Page_400">[Pg 400]</a></span> -<span class="i0">Of wasting that which want esteems so dear,</span> -<span class="i0">But finds so scarce, her sister from the pain <span class="linenum">180</span></span> -<span class="i0">That springs from want, when treated with disdain.</span> -<span class="i2">“Jane borrow’d maxims from a doubting school,</span> -<span class="i0">And took for truth the test of ridicule;</span> -<span class="i0">Lucy saw no such virtue in a jest:</span> -<span class="i0">Truth was with her of ridicule a test.</span> -<span class="i2">“They loved each other with the warmth of youth,</span> -<span class="i0">With ardour, candour, tenderness, and truth;</span> -<span class="i0">And, though their pleasures were not just the same,</span> -<span class="i0">Yet both were pleased whenever one became;</span> -<span class="i0">Nay, each would rather in the act rejoice, <span class="linenum">190</span></span> -<span class="i0">That was th’ adopted, not the native choice.</span> -<span class="i2">“Each had a friend, and friends to minds so fond</span> -<span class="i0">And good are soon united in the bond;</span> -<span class="i0">Each had a lover; but it seem’d that fate</span> -<span class="i0">Decreed that these should not approximate.</span> -<span class="i0">Now Lucy’s lover was a prudent swain,</span> -<span class="i0">And thought, in all things, what would be his gain;</span> -<span class="i0">The younger sister first engaged his view,</span> -<span class="i0">But with her beauty he her spirit knew;</span> -<span class="i0">Her face he much admired, ‘but, put the case,’ <span class="linenum">200</span></span> -<span class="i0">Said he, ‘I marry, what is then a face?</span> -<span class="i0">At first it pleases to have drawn the lot;</span> -<span class="i0">He then forgets it, but his wife does not;</span> -<span class="i0">Jane too,’ he judged, ‘would be reserved and nice,</span> -<span class="i0">And many lovers had enhanced her price.’</span> -<span class="i2">“Thus thinking much, but hiding what he thought,</span> -<span class="i0">The prudent lover Lucy’s favour sought,</span> -<span class="i0">And he succeeded—she was free from art,</span> -<span class="i0">And his appear’d a gentle guileless heart;</span> -<span class="i0">Such she respected; true, her sister found <span class="linenum">210</span></span> -<span class="i0">His placid face too ruddy and too round,</span> -<span class="i0">Too cold and inexpressive; such a face</span> -<span class="i0">Where you could nothing mark’d or manly trace.</span> -<span class="i2">“But Lucy found him to his mother kind,</span> -<span class="i0">And saw the Christian meekness of his mind;</span> -<span class="i0">His voice was soft, his temper mild and sweet,</span> -<span class="i0">His mind was easy, and his person neat.</span> -<span class="i2">“Jane said he wanted courage; Lucy drew</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_401" id="Page_401">[Pg 401]</a></span> -<span class="i0">No ill from that, though she believed it too;</span> -<span class="i0">‘It is religious, Jane, be not severe;’ <span class="linenum">220</span></span> -<span class="i0">‘Well, Lucy, then it is religious fear,’</span> -<span class="i0">Nor could the sister, great as was her love,</span> -<span class="i0">A man so lifeless and so cool approve.</span> -<span class="i2">“Jane had a lover, whom a lady’s pride</span> -<span class="i0">Might wish to see attending at her side,</span> -<span class="i0">Young, handsome, sprightly, and with good address,</span> -<span class="i0">Not mark’d for folly, error or excess;</span> -<span class="i0">Yet not entirely from their censure free</span> -<span class="i0">Who judge our failings with severity.</span> -<span class="i0">The very care he took to keep his name <span class="linenum">230</span></span> -<span class="i0">Stainless, with some was evidence of shame.</span> -<span class="i2">“Jane heard of this, and she replied, ‘Enough;</span> -<span class="i0">Prove but the facts, and I resist not proof;</span> -<span class="i0">Nor is my heart so easy as to love</span> -<span class="i0">The man my judgment bids me not approve.’</span> -<span class="i0">But yet that heart a secret joy confess’d,</span> -<span class="i0">To find no slander on the youth would rest;</span> -<span class="i0">His was, in fact, such conduct, that a maid</span> -<span class="i0">Might think of marriage, and be not afraid;</span> -<span class="i0">And she was pleased to find a spirit high, <span class="linenum">240</span></span> -<span class="i0">Free from all fear, that spurn’d hypocrisy.</span> -<span class="i2">“‘What fears my sister?’ said the partial fair,</span> -<span class="i0">For Lucy fear’d,—‘Why tell me to beware?</span> -<span class="i0">No smooth deceitful varnish can I find; <span class="ws11">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">His is a spirit generous, free, and kind;<span class="ws12">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">And all his flaws are seen, all floating in his mind.  }</span> -<span class="i0">A little boldness in his speech. What then?</span> -<span class="i0">It is the failing of these generous men.</span> -<span class="i0">A little vanity, but—O! my dear,</span> -<span class="i0">They all would show it, were they all sincere. <span class="linenum">250</span></span> -<span class="i2">“‘But come, agreed; we’ll lend each other eyes</span> -<span class="i0">To see our favourites, when they wear disguise;</span> -<span class="i0">And all those errors that will then be shown</span> -<span class="i0">Uninfluenced by the workings of our own.’</span> -<span class="i2">“Thus lived the sisters, far from power removed,</span> -<span class="i0">And far from need, both loving and beloved.</span> -<span class="i0">Thus grew, as myrtles grow; I grieve at heart</span> -<span class="i0">That I have pain and sorrow to impart.</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_402" id="Page_402">[Pg 402]</a></span> -<span class="i0">But so it is, the sweetest herbs that grow</span> -<span class="i0">In the lone vale, where sweetest waters flow, <span class="linenum">260</span></span> -<span class="i0">Ere drops the blossom, or appears the fruit,</span> -<span class="i0">Feel the vile grub, and perish at the root;</span> -<span class="i0">And, in a quick and premature decay,</span> -<span class="i0">Breathe the pure fragrance of their life away.</span> -<span class="i2">“A town was near, in which the buildings all</span> -<span class="i0">Were large, but one pre-eminently tall—</span> -<span class="i0">An huge high house. Without there was an air</span> -<span class="i0">Of lavish cost; no littleness was there;</span> -<span class="i0">But room for servants, horses, whiskies, gigs,</span> -<span class="i0">And walls for pines and peaches, grapes and figs; <span class="linenum">270</span></span> -<span class="i0">Bright on the sloping glass the sunbeams shone,</span> -<span class="i0">And brought the summer of all climates on.</span> -<span class="i2">“Here wealth its prowess to the eye display’d,</span> -<span class="i0">And here advanced the seasons, there delay’d;</span> -<span class="i0">Bid the due heat each growing sweet refine,<span class="ws5">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Made the sun’s light with grosser fire combine, }</span> -<span class="i0">And to the Tropic gave the vigour of the Line.<span class="ws3">}</span></span> -<span class="i2">“Yet, in the master of this wealth behold <span class="ws16">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">A light vain coxcomb taken from his gold,<span class="ws17">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Whose busy brain was weak, whose boasting heart was cold. }<span class="linenum">280</span></span> -<span class="i0">O! how he talk’d to that believing town,</span> -<span class="i0">That he would give it riches and renown;</span> -<span class="i0">Cause a canal where treasures were to swim,</span> -<span class="i0">And they should owe their opulence to him!</span> -<span class="i0">In fact, of riches he insured a crop,</span> -<span class="i0">So they would give him but a seed to drop.</span> -<span class="i0">As used the alchymist his boasts to make,</span> -<span class="i0">‘I give you millions for the mite I take:’</span> -<span class="i0">The mite they never could again behold,</span> -<span class="i0">The millions all were Eldorado gold. <span class="linenum">290</span></span> -<span class="i2">“By this professing man the country round</span> -<span class="i0">Was search’d to see where money could be found.</span> -<span class="i2">“The thriven farmer, who had lived to spare,</span> -<span class="i0">Became an object of especial care;</span> -<span class="i0">He took the frugal tradesman by the hand,</span> -<span class="i0">And wish’d him joy of what he might command;</span> -<span class="i0">And the industrious servant, who had laid</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_403" id="Page_403">[Pg 403]</a></span> -<span class="i0">His saving by, it was his joy to aid;</span> -<span class="i0">Large talk, and hints of some productive plan</span> -<span class="i0">Half named, won all his hearers to a man; <span class="linenum">300</span></span> -<span class="i0">Uncertain projects drew them wondering on,</span> -<span class="i0">And avarice listen’d till distrust was gone.</span> -<span class="i0">But when to these dear girls he found his way,</span> -<span class="i0">All easy, artless, innocent were they;</span> -<span class="i0">When he compelled his foolish wife to be</span> -<span class="i0">At once so great, so humble, and so free;</span> -<span class="i0">Whom others sought, nor always with success!</span> -<span class="i0">But they were both her pride and happiness;</span> -<span class="i0">And she esteem’d them, but attended still</span> -<span class="i0">To the vile purpose of her husband’s will; <span class="linenum">310</span></span> -<span class="i0">And, when she fix’d his snares about their mind,</span> -<span class="i0">Respected those whom she essay’d to blind;</span> -<span class="i0">Nay with esteem she some compassion gave</span> -<span class="i0">To the fair victims whom she would not save.</span> -<span class="i2">“The Banker’s wealth and kindness were her themes,</span> -<span class="i0">His generous plans, his patriotic schemes;</span> -<span class="i0">What he had done for some, a favourite few,</span> -<span class="i0">What for his favourites still he meant to do;</span> -<span class="i0">Not that he always listen’d—which was hard—</span> -<span class="i0">To her, when speaking of her great regard <span class="linenum">320</span></span> -<span class="i0">For certain friends—‘but you, as I may say,</span> -<span class="i0">Are his own choice—I am not jealous—nay!’</span> -<span class="i2">“Then came the man himself, and came with speed,</span> -<span class="i0">As just from business of importance freed;</span> -<span class="i0">Or just escaping, came with looks of fire,</span> -<span class="i0">As if he’d just attain’d his full desire;</span> -<span class="i0">As if Prosperity and he for life</span> -<span class="i0">Were wed, and he was showing off his wife;</span> -<span class="i0">Pleased to display his influence, and to prove</span> -<span class="i0">Himself the object of her partial love; <span class="linenum">330</span></span> -<span class="i0">Perhaps with this was join’d the latent fear,</span> -<span class="i0">The time would come when he should not be dear.</span> -<span class="i2">“Jane laugh’d at all their visits and parade,</span> -<span class="i0">And call’d it friendship in an hot-house made;</span> -<span class="i0">A style of friendship suited to his taste,</span> -<span class="i0">Brought on, and ripen’d, like his grapes, in haste;</span> -<span class="i0">She saw the wants that wealth in vain would hide,</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_404" id="Page_404">[Pg 404]</a></span> -<span class="i0">And all the tricks and littleness of pride;</span> -<span class="i0">On all the wealth would creep the vulgar stain,</span> -<span class="i0">And grandeur strove to look itself in vain. <span class="linenum">340</span></span> -<span class="i2">“Lucy perceived—but she replied, ‘why heed</span> -<span class="i0">Such small defects?—they’re very kind indeed!’</span> -<span class="i0">And kind they were, and ready to produce</span> -<span class="i0">Their easy friendship, ever fit for use,</span> -<span class="i0">Friendship that enters into all affairs,</span> -<span class="i0">And daily wants, and daily gets, repairs.</span> -<span class="i2">“Hence at the cottage of the sisters stood</span> -<span class="i0">The Banker’s steed—he was so very good;</span> -<span class="i0">Oft through the roads, in weather foul or fair,</span> -<span class="i0">Their friend’s gay carriage bore the gentle pair; <span class="linenum">350</span></span> -<span class="i0">His grapes and nectarines woo’d the virgins’ hand;</span> -<span class="i0">His books and roses were at their command,</span> -<span class="i0">And costly flowers—he took upon him shame</span> -<span class="i0">That he could purchase what he could not name.</span> -<span class="i2">“Lucy was vex’d to have such favours shown,</span> -<span class="i0">And they returning nothing of their own;</span> -<span class="i0">Jane smiled, and begg’d her sister to believe,—</span> -<span class="i0">‘We give at least as much as we receive.’</span> -<span class="i2">“Alas! and more; they gave their ears and eyes,</span> -<span class="i0">His splendor oft-times took them by surprise; <span class="linenum">360</span></span> -<span class="i0">And, if in Jane appear’d a meaning smile,</span> -<span class="i0">She gazed, admired, and paid respect the while;</span> -<span class="i0">Would she had rested there! Deluded maid,</span> -<span class="i0">She saw not yet the fatal price she paid;</span> -<span class="i0">Saw not that wealth, though join’d with folly, grew</span> -<span class="i0">In her regard; she smiled, but listened too;</span> -<span class="i0">Nay would be grateful, she would trust her all,   }</span> -<span class="i0">Her funded source—to him a matter small;<span class="ws6">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Taken for their sole use, and ever at their call,  }</span> -<span class="i0">To be improved—he knew not how indeed, <span class="linenum">370</span></span> -<span class="i0">But he had methods—and they must succeed.</span> -<span class="i2">“This was so good, that Jane, in very pride,</span> -<span class="i0">To spare him trouble, for a while denied;</span> -<span class="i0">And Lucy’s prudence, though it was alarm’d,</span> -<span class="i0">Was by the splendor of the Banker charm’d;</span> -<span class="i0">What was her paltry thousand pounds to him,</span> -<span class="i0">Who would expend five thousand on a whim?</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_405" id="Page_405">[Pg 405]</a></span> -<span class="i0">And then the portion of his wife was known;</span> -<span class="i0">But not that she reserved it for her own.</span> -<span class="i2">“Lucy her lover trusted with the fact, <span class="linenum">380</span></span> -<span class="i0">And frankly ask’d, ‘if he approved the act?’</span> -<span class="i0">‘It promised well,’ he said; ‘he could not tell</span> -<span class="i0">How it might end, but sure it promised well;</span> -<span class="i0">He had himself a trifle in the Bank,</span> -<span class="i0">And should be sore uneasy if it sank.’</span> -<span class="i2">“Jane from her lover had no wish to hide</span> -<span class="i0">Her deed; but was withheld by maiden pride;</span> -<span class="i0">To talk so early—as if one were sure</span> -<span class="i0">Of being his; she could not that endure.</span> -<span class="i2">“But when the sisters were apart, and when <span class="linenum">390</span></span> -<span class="i0">They freely spoke of their affairs and men,</span> -<span class="i0">They thought with pleasure of the sum improved,</span> -<span class="i0">And so presented to the men they loved.</span> -<span class="i2">“Things now proceeded in a quiet train;</span> -<span class="i0">No cause appear’d to murmur or complain;</span> -<span class="i0">The monied man, his ever-smiling dame,</span> -<span class="i0">And their young darlings, in their carriage came.</span> -<span class="i0">Jane’s sprightly lover smiled their pomp to see,</span> -<span class="i0">And ate their grapes, with gratitude and glee;</span> -<span class="i0">But with the freedom there was nothing mean, <span class="linenum">400</span></span> -<span class="i0">Humble, or forward, in his freedom seen;</span> -<span class="i0">His was the frankness of a mind that shows</span> -<span class="i0">It knows itself, nor fears for what it knows.</span> -<span class="i0">But Lucy’s ever humble friend was awed</span> -<span class="i0">By the profusion he could not applaud;</span> -<span class="i0">He seem’d indeed reluctant to partake</span> -<span class="i0">Of the collation that he could not make;</span> -<span class="i0">And this was pleasant in the maiden’s view,—</span> -<span class="i0">Was modesty—was moderation too;</span> -<span class="i0">Though Jane esteem’d it meanness; and she saw <span class="linenum">410</span></span> -<span class="i0">Fear in that prudence, avarice in that awe.</span> -<span class="i2">“But both the lovers now to town are gone;</span> -<span class="i0">By business one is call’d, by duty one;</span> -<span class="i0">While rumour rises—whether false or true</span> -<span class="i0">The ladies knew not—it was known to few—</span> -<span class="i0">But fear there was, and on their guardian-friend</span> -<span class="i0">They for advice and comfort would depend</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_406" id="Page_406">[Pg 406]</a></span> -<span class="i0">When rose the day; meantime from Belmont-place</span> -<span class="i0">Came vile report, predicting quick disgrace.</span> -<span class="i2">“’Twas told—the servants, who had met to thank <span class="linenum">420</span></span> -<span class="i0">Their lord for placing money in his Bank—</span> -<span class="i0">Their kind free master, who such wages gave,</span> -<span class="i0">And then increased whatever they could save—</span> -<span class="i0">They who had heard they should their savings lose,</span> -<span class="i0">Were weeping, swearing, drinking at the news;</span> -<span class="i0">And still the more they drank, the more they wept,</span> -<span class="i0">And swore, and rail’d, and threatened, till they slept.</span> -<span class="i2">“The morning truth confirm’d the evening dread;</span> -<span class="i0">The Bank was broken, and the Banker fled;</span> -<span class="i0">But left a promise that his friends should have, <span class="linenum">430</span></span> -<span class="i0">To the last shilling—what his fortunes gave.</span> -<span class="i2">“The evil tidings reach’d the sister-pair,</span> -<span class="i0">And one like Sorrow look’d, and one Despair;</span> -<span class="i0">They from each other turn’d th’ afflicting look,</span> -<span class="i0">And loth and late the painful silence broke.</span> -<span class="i2">“‘The odious villain!’ Jane in wrath began;</span> -<span class="i0">In pity Lucy, ‘the unhappy man!</span> -<span class="i0">When time and reason our affliction heal,</span> -<span class="i0">How will the author of our sufferings feel?’</span> -<span class="i2">“‘And let him feel, my sister—let the woes <span class="linenum">440</span></span> -<span class="i0">That he creates be bane to his repose!</span> -<span class="i0">Let them be felt in his expiring hour,</span> -<span class="i0">When death brings all his dread, and sin its power:</span> -<span class="i0">Then let the busy foe of mortals state</span> -<span class="i0">The pangs he caused, his own to aggravate!</span> -<span class="i2">“‘Wretch! when our life was glad, our prospers gay,</span> -<span class="i0">With savage hand to sweep them all away!</span> -<span class="i0">And he must know it—know when he beguiled</span> -<span class="i0">His easy victims—how the villain smiled!</span> -<span class="i2">“‘Oh! my dear Lucy, could I see him crave <span class="linenum">450</span></span> -<span class="i0">The food denied, a beggar and a slave,</span> -<span class="i0">To stony hearts he should with tears apply,</span> -<span class="i0">And Pity’s self withhold the struggling sigh;</span> -<span class="i0">Or, if relenting weakness should extend</span> -<span class="i0">Th’ extorted scrap that justice would not lend,</span> -<span class="i0">Let it be poison’d by the curses deep</span> -<span class="i0">Of every wretch whom he compels to weep!’</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_407" id="Page_407">[Pg 407]</a></span> -<span class="i2">“‘Nay, my sweet sister, if you thought such pain</span> -<span class="i0">Were his, your pity would awake again;</span> -<span class="i0">Your generous heart the wretch’s grief would feel, <span class="linenum">460</span></span> -<span class="i0">And you would soothe the pangs you could not heal.’</span> -<span class="i2">“‘Oh! never, never,—I would still contrive</span> -<span class="i0">To keep the slave whom I abhorr’d alive;</span> -<span class="i0">His tortured mind with horrid fears to fill,</span> -<span class="i0">Disturb his reason, and misguide his will;</span> -<span class="i0">Heap coals of fire, to lie like melted lead,</span> -<span class="i0">Heavy and hot, on his accursed head;</span> -<span class="i0">Not coals that mercy kindles hearts to melt,</span> -<span class="i0">But he should feel them hot as fires are felt,</span> -<span class="i0">Corroding ever, and through life the same, <span class="linenum">470</span></span> -<span class="i0">Strong self-contempt and ever-burning shame;</span> -<span class="i0">Let him so wretched live that he may fly</span> -<span class="i0">To desperate thoughts, and be resolved to die—</span> -<span class="i0">And then let death such frightful visions give,</span> -<span class="i0">That he may dread th’ attempt, and beg to live!’</span> -<span class="i0">So spake th’ indignant maid, when Lucy sigh’d,</span> -<span class="i0">And, waiting softer times, no more replied.</span> -<span class="i2">“Barlow was then in town; and there he thought</span> -<span class="i0">Of bliss to come, and bargains to be bought;</span> -<span class="i0">And was returning homeward—when he found <span class="linenum">480</span></span> -<span class="i0">The Bank was broken, and his venture drown’d.</span> -<span class="i2">“‘Ah! foolish maid,’ he cried, ‘and what wilt thou</span> -<span class="i0">Say for thy friends and their excesses now?</span> -<span class="i0">All now is brought completely to an end;</span> -<span class="i0">What can the spendthrift now afford to spend?</span> -<span class="i0">Had my advice been—true, I gave consent,</span> -<span class="i0">The thing was purposed; what could I prevent?</span> -<span class="i2">“‘Who will her idle taste for flowers supply— }</span> -<span class="i0">Who send her grapes and peaches? let her try;— }</span> -<span class="i0">There’s none will give her, and she cannot buy.<span class="ws3">}</span><span class="linenum">490</span></span> -<span class="i2">“‘Yet would she not be grateful if she knew</span> -<span class="i0">What to my faith and generous love was due?</span> -<span class="i0">Daily to see the man who took her hand,</span> -<span class="i0">When she had not a sixpence at command;</span> -<span class="i0">Could I be sure that such a quiet mind</span> -<span class="i0">Would be for ever grateful, mild, and kind,</span> -<span class="i0">I might comply—but how will Bloomer act,</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_408" id="Page_408">[Pg 408]</a></span> -<span class="i0">‘When he becomes acquainted with the fact?</span> -<span class="i0">The loss to him is trifling—but the fall</span> -<span class="i0">From independence, that to her is all; <span class="linenum">500</span></span> -<span class="i0">Now, should he marry, ‘twill be shame to me</span> -<span class="i0">To hold myself from my engagement free;</span> -<span class="i0">And should he not, it will be double grace</span> -<span class="i0">To stand alone in such a trying case.</span> -<span class="i1">“‘Come then, my Lucy, to thy faithful heart</span> -<span class="i0">And humble love I will my views impart;</span> -<span class="i0">Will see the grateful tear that softly steals</span> -<span class="i0">Down the fair face and all thy joy reveals;</span> -<span class="i0">And when I say it is a blow severe,</span> -<span class="i0">Then will I add—restrain, my love, the tear, <span class="linenum">510</span></span> -<span class="i0">And take this heart, so faithful and so fond,</span> -<span class="i0">Still bound to thine; and fear not for that bond.’</span> -<span class="i2">“He said; and went, with purpose he believed</span> -<span class="i0">Of generous nature—so is man deceived.</span> -<span class="i2">“Lucy determined that her lover’s eye</span> -<span class="i0">Should not distress nor supplication spy;</span> -<span class="i0">That in her manner he should nothing find</span> -<span class="i0">To indicate the weakness of her mind.</span> -<span class="i0">He saw no eye that wept, no frame that shook;</span> -<span class="i0">No fond appeal was made by word or look; <span class="linenum">520</span></span> -<span class="i0">Kindness there was, but join’d with some restraint;</span> -<span class="i0">And traces of the late event were faint.</span> -<span class="i2">“He look’d for grief deploring, but perceives</span> -<span class="i0">No outward token that she longer grieves;</span> -<span class="i0">He had expected for his efforts praise,</span> -<span class="i0">For he resolved the drooping mind to raise;</span> -<span class="i0">She would, he judged, be humble, and afraid</span> -<span class="i0">That he might blame her rashness and upbraid;</span> -<span class="i0">And lo! he finds her in a quiet state,</span> -<span class="i0">Her spirit easy and her air sedate: <span class="linenum">530</span></span> -<span class="i0">As if her loss was not a cause for pain,</span> -<span class="i0">As if assured that he would make it gain,—</span> -<span class="i2">“Silent awhile, he told the morning news,</span> -<span class="i0">And what he judged they might expect to lose;</span> -<span class="i0">He thought himself, whatever some might boast,</span> -<span class="i0">The composition would be small at most,</span> -<span class="i0">Some shabby matter; she would see no more</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_409" id="Page_409">[Pg 409]</a></span> -<span class="i0">The tithe of what she held in hand before.</span> -<span class="i2">“How did her sister feel? and did she think</span> -<span class="i0">Bloomer was honest, and would never shrink? <span class="linenum">540</span></span> -<span class="i0">‘But why that smile; is loss like yours so light</span> -<span class="i0">That it can aught like merriment excite?</span> -<span class="i0">Well, he is rich, we know, and can afford</span> -<span class="i0">To please his fancy, and to keep his word;</span> -<span class="i0">To him ’tis nothing; had he now a fear,</span> -<span class="i0">He must the meanest of his sex appear;</span> -<span class="i0">But the true honour, as I judge the case,</span> -<span class="i0">Is both to feel the evil and embrace.’</span> -<span class="i2">“Here Barlow stopp’d, a little vex’d to see</span> -<span class="i0">No fear or hope, no dread or ecstasy. <span class="linenum">550</span></span> -<span class="i0">Calmly she spoke—‘Your prospects, sir, and mine</span> -<span class="i0">Are not the same—their union I decline;</span> -<span class="i0">Could I believe the hand for which you strove</span> -<span class="i0">Had yet its value, did you truly love,</span> -<span class="i0">I had with thanks addressed you, and replied,</span> -<span class="i0">Wait till your feelings and my own subside,</span> -<span class="i0">Watch your affections, and, if still they live,</span> -<span class="i0">What pride denies, my gratitude shall give.’</span> -<span class="i0">Ev’n then, in yielding, I had first believed</span> -<span class="i0">That I conferr’d the favour, not received. <span class="linenum">560</span></span> -<span class="i2">“‘You I release—nay, hear me—I impart</span> -<span class="i0">Joy to your soul—I judge not of your heart.</span> -<span class="i0">Think’st thou a being, to whom God has lent</span> -<span class="i0">A feeling mind, will have her bosom rent</span> -<span class="i0">By man’s reproaches? Sorrow will be thine,</span> -<span class="i0">For all thy pity prompts thee to resign!</span> -<span class="i0">Think’st thou that meekness’ self would condescend</span> -<span class="i0">To take the husband when she scorns the friend?</span> -<span class="i0">Forgive the frankness, and rejoice for life</span> -<span class="i0">Thou art not burden’d with so poor a wife. <span class="linenum">570</span></span> -<span class="i2">“‘Go! and be happy—tell, for the applause</span> -<span class="i0">Of hearts like thine, we parted, and the cause</span> -<span class="i0">Give, as it pleases.’ With a foolish look</span> -<span class="i0">That a dull school-boy fixes on his book</span> -<span class="i0">That he resigns, with mingled shame and joy,</span> -<span class="i0">So Barlow went, confounded like the boy.</span> -<span class="i2">“Jane, while she wept to think her sister’s pain</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_410" id="Page_410">[Pg 410]</a></span> -<span class="i0">Was thus increased, felt infinite disdain;</span> -<span class="i0">Bound as she was, and wedded by the ties</span> -<span class="i0">Of love and hope, that care and craft despise, <span class="linenum">580</span></span> -<span class="i0">She could but wonder that a man, whose taste</span> -<span class="i0">And zeal for money had a Jew disgraced,</span> -<span class="i0">Should love her sister; yet with this surprise,</span> -<span class="i0">She felt a little exultation rise;</span> -<span class="i0">Hers was a lover who had always held</span> -<span class="i0">This man as base, by generous scorn impell’d,</span> -<span class="i0">And yet, as one, of whom for Lucy’s sake</span> -<span class="i0">He would a civil distant notice take.</span> -<span class="i2">“Lucy, with sadden’d heart and temper mild,</span> -<span class="i0">Bow’d to correction, like an humbled child, <span class="linenum">590</span></span> -<span class="i0">Who feels the parent’s kindness, and who knows</span> -<span class="i0">Such the correction he who loves bestows.</span> -<span class="i2">“Attending always, but attending more</span> -<span class="i0">When sorrow ask’d his presence than before,</span> -<span class="i0">Tender and ardent, with the kindest air</span> -<span class="i0">Came Bloomer, fortune’s error to repair;</span> -<span class="i0">Words sweetly soothing spoke the happy youth,</span> -<span class="i0">With all the tender earnestness of truth.</span> -<span class="i2">“There was no doubt of his intention now—</span> -<span class="i0">He will his purpose with his love avow; <span class="linenum">600</span></span> -<span class="i0">So judged the maid; yet, waiting, she admired</span> -<span class="i0">His still delaying what he most desired;</span> -<span class="i0">Till, from her spirit’s agitation free,</span> -<span class="i0">She might determine when the day should be.</span> -<span class="i0">With such facility the partial mind</span> -<span class="i0">Can the best motives for its favourites find.</span> -<span class="i2">“Of this he spake not, but he stayed beyond</span> -<span class="i0">His usual hour—attentive still and fond;—</span> -<span class="i0">The hand yet firmer to the hand he prest,</span> -<span class="i0">And the eye rested where it loved to rest; <span class="linenum">610</span></span> -<span class="i0">Then took he certain freedoms, yet so small</span> -<span class="i0">That it was prudish so the things to call;</span> -<span class="i0">Things they were not—‘Describe’—that none can do,</span> -<span class="i0">They had been nothing had they not been new;</span> -<span class="i0">It was the manner and the look; a maid,</span> -<span class="i0">Afraid of such, is foolishly afraid;</span> -<span class="i0">For what could she explain? The piercing eye</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_411" id="Page_411">[Pg 411]</a></span> -<span class="i0">Of jealous fear could nought amiss descry.</span> -<span class="i1">“But some concern now rose; the youth would seek</span> -<span class="i0">Jane by herself, and then would nothing speak, <span class="linenum">610</span></span> -<span class="i0">Before not spoken; there was still delay,</span> -<span class="i0">Vexatious, wearying, wasting, day by day.</span> -<span class="i2">“‘He does not surely trifle!’ Heaven forbid!</span> -<span class="i0">She now should doubly scorn him if he did.</span> -<span class="i2">“Ah! more than this, unlucky girl! is thine;</span> -<span class="i0">Thou must the fondest views of life resign;</span> -<span class="i0">And in the very time resign them too,</span> -<span class="i0">When they were brightening on the eager view.</span> -<span class="i0">I will be brief,—nor have I heart to dwell</span> -<span class="i0">On crimes they almost share who paint them well. <span class="linenum">630</span></span> -<span class="i2">“There was a moment’s softness, and it seem’d</span> -<span class="i0">Discretion slept, or so the lover dream’d;</span> -<span class="i0">And, watching long the now confiding maid,</span> -<span class="i0">He thought her guardless, and grew less afraid;</span> -<span class="i0">Led to the theme that he had shunn’d before,</span> -<span class="i0">He used a language he must use no more—</span> -<span class="i0">For if it answers, there is no more need,</span> -<span class="i0">And no more trial, should it not succeed.</span> -<span class="i2">“Then made he that attempt, in which to fail</span> -<span class="i0">Is shameful,—still more shameful to prevail. <span class="linenum">640</span></span> -<span class="i2">“Then was there lightning in that eye that shed</span> -<span class="i0">Its beams upon him—and his frenzy fled;</span> -<span class="i0">Abject and trembling at her feet he laid,</span> -<span class="i0">Despised and scorn’d by the indignant maid,</span> -<span class="i0">Whose spirits in their agitation rose,</span> -<span class="i0">Him, and her own weak pity, to oppose:</span> -<span class="i0">As liquid silver in the tube mounts high,</span> -<span class="i0">Then shakes and settles as the storm goes by.</span> -<span class="i2">“While yet the lover stay’d, the maid was strong,</span> -<span class="i0">But when he fled, she droop’d and felt the wrong— <span class="linenum">650</span></span> -<span class="i0">Felt the alarming chill, the enfeebled breath,</span> -<span class="i0">Closed the quick eye, and sank in transient death.</span> -<span class="i0">So Lucy found her; and then first that breast</span> -<span class="i0">Knew anger’s power, and own’d the stranger guest.</span> -<span class="i2">“‘And is this love? Ungenerous! Has he too</span> -<span class="i0">Been mean and abject? Is no being true?’</span> -<span class="i0">For Lucy judged that, like her prudent swain,</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_412" id="Page_412">[Pg 412]</a></span> -<span class="i0">Bloomer had talk’d of what a man might gain;</span> -<span class="i0">She did not think a man on earth was found,</span> -<span class="i0">A wounded bosom, while it bleeds, to wound; <span class="linenum">660</span></span> -<span class="i0">Thought not that mortal could be so unjust,</span> -<span class="i0">As to deprive affliction of its trust;</span> -<span class="i0">Thought not a lover could the hope enjoy,</span> -<span class="i0">That must the peace he should promote destroy;</span> -<span class="i0">Thought not, in fact, that in the world were those,</span> -<span class="i0">Who to their tenderest friends are worse than foes,</span> -<span class="i0">Who win the heart, deprive it of its care,</span> -<span class="i0">Then plant remorse and desolation there.</span> -<span class="i2">“Ah! cruel he, who can that heart deprive</span> -<span class="i0">Of all that keeps its energy alive; <span class="linenum">670</span></span> -<span class="i0">Can see consign’d to shame the trusting fair,</span> -<span class="i0">And turn confiding fondness to despair;</span> -<span class="i0">To watch that time—a name is not assign’d</span> -<span class="i0">For crime so odious, nor shall learning find.</span> -<span class="i0">Now, from that day has Lucy laid aside</span> -<span class="i0">Her proper cares, to be her sister’s guide,</span> -<span class="i0">Guard, and protector. At their uncle’s farm</span> -<span class="i0">They past the period of their first alarm,</span> -<span class="i0">But soon retired, nor was he grieved to learn</span> -<span class="i0">They made their own affairs their own concern. <span class="linenum">680</span></span> -<span class="i2">“I knew not then their worth; and, had I known,</span> -<span class="i0">Could not the kindness of a friend have shown;</span> -<span class="i0">For men they dreaded; they a dwelling sought,</span> -<span class="i0">And there the children of the village taught;</span> -<span class="i0">There, firm and patient, Lucy still depends</span> -<span class="i0">Upon her efforts, not upon her friends;</span> -<span class="i0">She is with persevering strength endued,</span> -<span class="i0">And can be cheerful—for she will be good.</span> -<span class="i2">“Jane too will strive the daily tasks to share,</span> -<span class="i0">That so employment may contend with care; <span class="linenum">690</span></span> -<span class="i0">Not power, but will, she shows, and looks about<span class="ws7">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">On her small people, who come in and out;<span class="ws11">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">And seems of what they need, or she can do, in doubt. }</span> -<span class="i2">“There sits the chubby crew on seats around,</span> -<span class="i0">While she, all rueful at the sight and sound,</span> -<span class="i0">Shrinks from the free approaches of the tribe,</span> -<span class="i0">Whom she attempts, lamenting to describe;</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_413" id="Page_413">[Pg 413]</a></span> -<span class="i0">With stains the idlers gather’d in their way,<span class="ws12">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">The simple stains of mud, and mould, and clay, <span class="ws8">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">And compound of the streets, of what we dare not say;  }</span> -<span class="i0">With hair uncomb’d, grimed face, and piteous look, <span class="linenum">701</span></span> -<span class="i0">Each heavy student takes the odious book,</span> -<span class="i0">And on the lady casts a glance of fear,</span> -<span class="i0">Who draws the garment close as he comes near;</span> -<span class="i0">She then for Lucy’s mild forbearance tries,</span> -<span class="i0">And from her pupils turns her brilliant eyes,</span> -<span class="i0">Making new efforts, and with some success,</span> -<span class="i0">To pay attention while the students guess;</span> -<span class="i0">Who to the gentler mistress fain would glide,</span> -<span class="i0">And dread their station at the lady’s side. <span class="linenum">710</span></span> -<span class="i2">“Such is their fate;—there is a friendly few</span> -<span class="i0">Whom they receive, and there is chance for you;</span> -<span class="i0">Their school, and something gather’d from the wreck</span> -<span class="i0">Of that bad Bank, keeps poverty in check;</span> -<span class="i0">And true respect, and high regard, are theirs,</span> -<span class="i0">The children’s profit, and the [parents’] prayers.</span> -<span class="i2">“With Lucy rests the one peculiar care, <span class="ws16">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">That few must see, and none with her may share; <span class="ws10">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">More dear than hope can be, more sweet than pleasures are. }</span> -<span class="i0">For her sad sister needs the care of love <span class="linenum">720</span></span> -<span class="i0">That will direct her, that will not reprove,</span> -<span class="i0">But waits to warn: for Jane will walk alone,</span> -<span class="i0">Will sing in low and melancholy tone;</span> -<span class="i0">Will read or write, or to her plants will run,</span> -<span class="i0">To shun her friends,—alas! her thoughts to shun.</span> -<span class="i2">“It is not love alone disturbs her rest,</span> -<span class="i0">But loss of all that ever hope possess’d:</span> -<span class="i0">Friends ever kind, life’s lively pleasures, ease,<span class="ws10">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">When her enjoyments could no longer please; <span class="ws10">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">These were her comforts then! she has no more of these. }</span> -<span class="i2">“Wrapt in such thoughts, she feels her mind astray, <span class="linenum">731</span></span> -<span class="i0">But knows ’tis true that she has lost her way;</span> -<span class="i0">For Lucy’s smile will check the sudden flight,</span> -<span class="i0">And one kind look let in the wonted light.</span> -<span class="i2">“Fits of long silence she endures, then talks</span> -<span class="i0">Too much—with too much ardour, as she walks;</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_414" id="Page_414">[Pg 414]</a></span> -<span class="i0">But still the shrubs that she admires dispense</span> -<span class="i0">Their balmy freshness to the hurried sense,</span> -<span class="i0">And she will watch their progress, and attend</span> -<span class="i0">Her flowering favourites as a guardian friend; <span class="linenum">740</span></span> -<span class="i0">To sun or shade she will her sweets remove,</span> -<span class="i0">‘And here,’ she says, ‘I may with safety love.’</span> -<span class="i2">“But there are hours when on that bosom steals</span> -<span class="i0">A rising terror—then indeed she feels—</span> -<span class="i0">Feels how she loved the promised good, and how</span> -<span class="i0">She feels the failure of the promise now.</span> -<span class="i2">“‘That other spoiler did as robbers do,</span> -<span class="i0">Made poor our state, but not disgraceful too,</span> -<span class="i0">This spoiler shames me, and I look within</span> -<span class="i0">To find some cause that drew him on to sin; <span class="linenum">750</span></span> -<span class="i0">He and the wretch who could thy worth forsake</span> -<span class="i0">Are the fork’d adder and the loathsome snake;</span> -<span class="i0">Thy snake could slip in villain-fear away,</span> -<span class="i0">But had no fang to fasten on his prey.</span> -<span class="i2">“‘Oh! my dear Lucy, I had thought to live</span> -<span class="i0">With all the comforts easy fortunes give;</span> -<span class="i0">A wife caressing, and caress’d—a friend,</span> -<span class="i0">Whom he would guide, advise, consult, defend,</span> -<span class="i0">And make his equal;—then I fondly thought</span> -<span class="i0">Among superior creatures to be brought; <span class="linenum">760</span></span> -<span class="i0">And, while with them, delighted to behold</span> -<span class="i0">No eye averted, and no bosom cold;—</span> -<span class="i0">Then at my home, a mother, to embrace<span class="ws8">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">My——Oh! my sister, it was surely base! <span class="ws6">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">I might forget the wrong; I cannot the disgrace. }</span> -<span class="i2">“‘Oh! when I saw that triumph in his eyes,</span> -<span class="i0">I felt my spirits with his own arise;</span> -<span class="i0">I call’d it joy, and said, the generous youth</span> -<span class="i0">Laughs at my loss—no trial for his truth,</span> -<span class="i0">It is a trifle he can not lament, <span class="linenum">770</span></span> -<span class="i0">A sum but equal to his annual rent;</span> -<span class="i0">And yet that loss, the cause of every ill,</span> -<span class="i0">Has made me poor, and him—’</span> -<span class="i25">“‘O! poorer still;</span> -<span class="i0">Poorer, my Jane, and far below thee now:</span> -<span class="i0">The injurer he,—the injured sufferer thou;</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_415" id="Page_415">[Pg 415]</a></span> -<span class="i0">And shall such loss afflict thee?’—</span> -<span class="i34">“‘Lose I not</span> -<span class="i0">With him what fortune could in life allot?</span> -<span class="i0">Lose I not hope, life’s cordial, and the views <span class="ws11">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Of an aspiring spirit?—O! I lose<span class="ws21">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Whate’er the happy feel, whatever the sanguine choose. }</span> -<span class="i2">“‘Would I could lose this bitter sense of wrong, <span class="linenum">781</span></span> -<span class="i0">And sleep in peace—but it will not be long!</span> -<span class="i0">And here is something, Lucy, in my brain—</span> -<span class="i0">I know not what—it is a cure for pain;</span> -<span class="i0">But is not death!—no beckoning hand I see,</span> -<span class="i0">No voice I hear that comes alone to me;</span> -<span class="i0">It is not death, but change; I am not now</span> -<span class="i0">As I was once—nor can I tell you how;</span> -<span class="i0">Nor is it madness—ask, and you shall find</span> -<span class="i0">In my replies the soundness of my mind: <span class="linenum">790</span></span> -<span class="i0">O! I should be a trouble all day long;</span> -<span class="i0">A very torment, if my head were wrong.’</span> -<span class="i2">“At times there is upon her features seen</span> -<span class="i0">What moves suspicion—she is too serene.</span> -<span class="i0">Such is the motion of a drunken man,</span> -<span class="i0">Who steps sedately, just to show he can.</span> -<span class="i0">Absent at times she will her mother call,</span> -<span class="i0">And cry at mid-day, ‘then good night to all.’</span> -<span class="i0">But most she thinks there will some good ensue</span> -<span class="i0">From something done, or what she is to do; <span class="linenum">800</span></span> -<span class="i0">Long wrapt in silence, she will then assume</span> -<span class="i0">An air of business, and shake off her gloom;</span> -<span class="i0">Then cry exulting, ‘O! it must succeed,</span> -<span class="i0">There are ten thousand readers—all men read:</span> -<span class="i0">There are my writings—you shall never spend</span> -<span class="i0">Your precious moments to so poor an end;</span> -<span class="i0">Our [peasants’] children may be taught by those</span> -<span class="i0">Who have no powers such wonders to compose;</span> -<span class="i0">So let me call them—what the world allows,</span> -<span class="i0">Surely a poet without shame avows; <span class="linenum">810</span></span> -<span class="i0">Come, let us count what numbers we believe</span> -<span class="i0">Will buy our work—Ah! sister, do you grieve?</span> -<span class="i0">You weep; there’s something I have said amiss,</span> -<span class="i0">And vex’d my sister—What a world is this!</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_416" id="Page_416">[Pg 416]</a></span> -<span class="i0">And how I wander!—Where has fancy run?</span> -<span class="i0">Is there no poem? Have I nothing done?</span> -<span class="i0">Forgive me, Lucy, I had fix’d my eye,</span> -<span class="i0">And so my mind, on works that cannot die,</span> -<span class="i0"><i>Marmion</i> and <i>Lara</i> yonder in the case;</span> -<span class="i0">And so I put me in the poet’s place. <span class="linenum">820</span></span> -<span class="i2">“‘Still, be not frighten’d; it is but a dream;</span> -<span class="i0">I am not lost, bewilder’d though I seem;</span> -<span class="i0">I will obey thee—but suppress thy fear—</span> -<span class="i0">I am at ease—then why that silly tear?’</span> -<span class="i2">“Jane, as these melancholy fits invade</span> -<span class="i0">The busy fancy, seeks the deepest shade;</span> -<span class="i0">She walks in ceaseless hurry, till her mind</span> -<span class="i0">Will short repose in verse and music find;</span> -<span class="i0">Then her own songs to some soft tune she sings,</span> -<span class="i0">And laughs, and calls them melancholy things; <span class="linenum">830</span></span> -<span class="i0">Not frenzy all; in some her erring Muse</span> -<span class="i0">Will sad, afflicting, tender strains infuse;</span> -<span class="i0">Sometimes on death she will her lines compose,</span> -<span class="i0">Or give her serious page of solemn prose;</span> -<span class="i0">And still those favourite plants her fancy please,</span> -<span class="i0">And give to care and anguish rest and ease.</span> -</div></div> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“‘Let me not have this gloomy view,</span> -<span class="i2">About my room, around my bed;</span> -<span class="i0">But morning roses, wet with dew,</span> -<span class="i2">To cool my burning brows instead. <span class="linenum">840</span></span> -<span class="i0">As flow’rs that once in Eden grew,</span> -<span class="i2">Let them their fragrant spirits shed,</span> -<span class="i0">And every day the sweets renew,</span> -<span class="i2">Till I, a fading flower, am dead.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“‘Oh! let the herbs I loved to rear</span> -<span class="i2">Give to my sense their perfumed breath;</span> -<span class="i0">Let them be placed about my bier,</span> -<span class="i2">And grace the gloomy house of death.</span> -<span class="i0">I’ll have my grave beneath an hill,</span> -<span class="i2">Where, only Lucy’s self shall know; <span class="linenum">850</span></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_417" id="Page_417">[Pg 417]</a></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“‘Where runs the pure pellucid rill</span> -<span class="i2">Upon its gravelly bed below;</span> -<span class="i0">There violets on the borders blow,</span> -<span class="i2">And insects their soft light display,</span> -<span class="i0">Till, as the morning sunbeams glow,</span> -<span class="i2">The cold phosphoric fires decay.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“‘That is the grave to Lucy shown,</span> -<span class="i2">The soil a pure and silver sand;</span> -<span class="i0">The green cold moss above it grown,</span> -<span class="i2">Unpluck’d of all but maiden hand: <span class="linenum">860</span></span> -<span class="i0">In virgin earth, till then unturn’d,</span> -<span class="i2">There let my maiden form be laid,</span> -<span class="i0">Nor let my changed clay be spurn’d,</span> -<span class="i2">Nor for new guest that bed be made.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“‘There will the lark, the lamb, in sport,</span> -<span class="i2">In air, on earth, securely play,</span> -<span class="i0">And Lucy to my grave resort,</span> -<span class="i2">As innocent, but not so gay.</span> -<span class="i0">I will not have the churchyard ground,</span> -<span class="i2">With bones all black and ugly grown, <span class="linenum">870</span></span> -<span class="i0">To press my shivering body round,</span> -<span class="i2">Or on my wasted limbs be thrown.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“‘With ribs and skulls I will not sleep,</span> -<span class="i2">In clammy beds of cold blue clay,</span> -<span class="i0">Through which the ringed earth-worms creep,</span> -<span class="i2">And on the shrouded bosom prey;</span> -<span class="i0">I will not have the bell proclaim</span> -<span class="i2">When those sad marriage rites begin,</span> -<span class="i0">And boys, without regard or shame,</span> -<span class="i2">Press the vile mouldering masses in. <span class="linenum">880</span></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“‘Say not, it is beneath my care;</span> -<span class="i2">I cannot these cold truths allow;</span> -<span class="i0">These thoughts may not afflict me there,</span> -<span class="i2">But, O! they vex and tease me now,</span> -<span class="i0">Raise not a turf, nor set a stone,</span> -<span class="i2">That man a maiden’s grave may trace;</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_418" id="Page_418">[Pg 418]</a></span> -<span class="i0">But thou, my Lucy, come alone,</span> -<span class="i2">And let affection find the place.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“‘O! take me from a world I hate—</span> -<span class="i2">Men cruel, selfish, sensual, cold; <span class="linenum">890</span></span> -<span class="i0">And, in some pure and blessed state,</span> -<span class="i2">Let me my sister minds behold:</span> -<span class="i0">From gross and sordid views refined,</span> -<span class="i2">Our heaven of spotless love to share,</span> -<span class="i0">For only generous souls design’d,</span> -<span class="i2">And not a man to meet us there.’”</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_419" id="Page_419">[Pg 419]</a></span> -</div></div></div> - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> -<p class="f150"><b>TALES OF THE HALL.</b></p> -<h3>BOOK IX.</h3> -<p class="f110"><i>THE PRECEPTOR HUSBAND.</i></p> -</div> - -<p class="blockquot"> -The Morning Ride—Conversation—Character of one whom they meet— -His early Habits and Mode of Thinking—The Wife whom he would -choose—The one chosen—His Attempts to teach—In History—In -Botany—The Lady’s Proficiency—His Complaint—Her Defence and -Triumph—- The Trial ends. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_420" id="Page_420">[Pg 420]</a></span></p> - -<p class="f150 break space-above2"><b>TALES OF THE HALL.</b></p> -<p class="f120"><b>BOOK IX.</b></p> -<p class="f110"><i>THE PRECEPTOR HUSBAND.</i></p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poem2"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“Whom pass’d we musing near the woodman’s shed,</span> -<span class="i0">Whose horse not only carried him but led,</span> -<span class="i0">That his grave rider might have slept the time,</span> -<span class="i0">Or solved a problem, or composed a rhyme?</span> -<span class="i0">A more abstracted man within my view</span> -<span class="i0">Has never come—He recollected you.”</span> -<span class="i2">“Yes—he was thoughtful—thinks the whole day long,</span> -<span class="i0">Deeply, and chiefly that he once thought wrong;</span> -<span class="i0">He thought a strong and kindred mind to trace</span> -<span class="i0">In the soft outlines of a trifler’s face. <span class="linenum">10</span></span> -<span class="i2">“Poor Finch! I knew him when at school—a boy</span> -<span class="i0">Who might be said his labours to enjoy;</span> -<span class="i0">So young a pedant that he always took</span> -<span class="i0">The girl to dance who most admired her book;</span> -<span class="i0">And would the butler and the cook surprise,</span> -<span class="i0">Who listen’d to his Latin exercise;</span> -<span class="i0">The matron’s self the praise of Finch avow’d,</span> -<span class="i0">He was so serious, and he read so loud.</span> -<span class="i0">But yet, with all this folly and conceit,</span> -<span class="i0">The lines he wrote were elegant and neat; <span class="linenum">20</span></span> -<span class="i0">And early promise in his mind appear’d</span> -<span class="i0">Of noble efforts when by reason clear’d.</span> -<span class="i2">“And when he spoke of wives, the boy would say,</span> -<span class="i0">His should be skill’d in Greek and algebra;</span> -<span class="i0">For who would talk with one to whom his themes,</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_421" id="Page_421">[Pg 421]</a></span> -<span class="i0">And favourite studies, were no more than dreams?</span> -<span class="i0">For this, though courteous, gentle, and humane,</span> -<span class="i0">The boys contemn’d and hated him as vain,</span> -<span class="i0">Stiff and pedantic.—”</span> -<span class="i23">“Did the man enjoy,</span> -<span class="i0">In after life, the visions of the boy?”— <span class="linenum">30</span></span> -<span class="i2">“At least they form’d his wishes, they were yet</span> -<span class="i0">The favourite views on which his mind was set:</span> -<span class="i0">He quaintly said, how happy must they prove,</span> -<span class="i0">Who, loving, study—or who, studious, love;</span> -<span class="i0">Who feel their minds with sciences imbued,</span> -<span class="i0">And their warm hearts by beauty’s force subdued.</span> -<span class="i2">“His widow’d mother, who the world had seen,</span> -<span class="i0">And better judge of either sex had been,</span> -<span class="i0">Told him that, just as their affairs were placed,</span> -<span class="i0">In some respects he must forego his taste; <span class="linenum">40</span></span> -<span class="i0">That every beauty, both of form and mind,</span> -<span class="i0">Must be by him, if unendow’d, resign’d;</span> -<span class="i0">That wealth was wanted for their joint affairs;</span> -<span class="i0">His sisters’ portions, and the Hall’s repairs.</span> -<span class="i2">“The son assented—and the wife must bring</span> -<span class="i0">Wealth, learning, beauty, ere he gave the ring;</span> -<span class="i0">But as these merits, when they all unite,</span> -<span class="i0">Are not produced in every soil and site;</span> -<span class="i0">And when produced are not the certain gain</span> -<span class="i0">Of him who would these precious things obtain; <span class="linenum">50</span></span> -<span class="i0">Our patient student waited many a year,</span> -<span class="i0">Nor saw this phœnix in his walks appear.</span> -<span class="i0">But, as views mended in the joint estate,</span> -<span class="i0">He would a something in his points abate;</span> -<span class="i0">Give him but learning, beauty, temper, sense,</span> -<span class="i0">And he would then the happy state commence.</span> -<span class="i0">The mother sigh’d, but she at last agreed;</span> -<span class="i0">And now the son was likely to succeed.</span> -<span class="i0">Wealth is substantial good the fates allot:</span> -<span class="i0">We know we have it, or we have it not; <span class="linenum">60</span></span> -<span class="i0">But all those graces which men highly rate</span> -<span class="i0">Their minds themselves imagine and create;</span> -<span class="i0">And therefore Finch was in a way to find</span> -<span class="i0">A good that much depended on his mind.</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_422" id="Page_422">[Pg 422]</a></span> -<span class="i2">“He look’d around, observing, till he saw</span> -<span class="i0">Augusta Dallas! when he felt an awe</span> -<span class="i0">Of so much beauty and commanding grace,</span> -<span class="i0">That well became the honours of her race.</span> -<span class="i2">“This lady never boasted of the trash</span> -<span class="i0">That commerce brings: she never spoke of cash; <span class="linenum">70</span></span> -<span class="i0">The gentle blood that ran in every vein</span> -<span class="i0">At all such notions blush’d in pure disdain.—</span> -<span class="i2">“Wealth once relinquished, there was all beside,</span> -<span class="i0">As Finch believed, that could adorn a bride;</span> -<span class="i0">He could not gaze upon the form and air,</span> -<span class="i0">Without concluding all was right and fair;</span> -<span class="i0">Her mild but dignified reserve supprest<span class="ws13">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">All free inquiry—but his mind could rest,<span class="ws11">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Assured that all was well, and in that view was blest. }</span> -<span class="i2">“And now he asked, ’am I the happy man <span class="linenum">80</span></span> -<span class="i0">Who can deserve her? is there one who can?’</span> -<span class="i0">His mother told him, he possess’d the land</span> -<span class="i0">That puts a man in heart to ask a hand;</span> -<span class="i0">All who possess it feel they bear about</span> -<span class="i0">A spell that puts a speedy end to doubt;</span> -<span class="i0">But Finch was modest—‘May it then be thought <span class="ws10">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">That she can so be gained?’—‘She may be sought.—’<span class="ws6">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">‘Can love with land be won?’—‘By land is beauty bought. }</span> -<span class="i0">Do not, dear Charles, with indignation glow,</span> -<span class="i0">All value that the want of which they know; <span class="linenum">90</span></span> -<span class="i0">Nor do I blame her; none that worth denies;</span> -<span class="i0">But can my son be sure of what he buys?</span> -<span class="i0">Beauty she has, but with it can you find</span> -<span class="i0">The inquiring spirit, or the studious mind?</span> -<span class="i0">This wilt thou need who art to thinking prone,</span> -<span class="i0">And minds unpair’d had better think alone;</span> -<span class="i0">Then how unhappy will the husband be,</span> -<span class="i0">Whose sole associate spoils his company?‘</span> -<span class="i0">This he would try; but all such trials prove</span> -<span class="i0">Too mighty for a man disposed to love; <span class="linenum">100</span></span> -<span class="i0">He whom the magic of a face enchains</span> -<span class="i0">But little knowledge of the mind obtains;</span> -<span class="i0">If by his tender heart the man is led,</span> -<span class="i0">He finds how erring is the soundest head.</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_423" id="Page_423">[Pg 423]</a></span> -<span class="i2">“The lady saw his purpose; she could meet</span> -<span class="i0">The man‘s inquiry, and his aim defeat;</span> -<span class="i0">She had a studied flattery in her look;</span> -<span class="i0">She could be seen retiring with a book;</span> -<span class="i0">She by attending to his speech could prove</span> -<span class="i0">That she for learning had a fervent love— <span class="linenum">110</span></span> -<span class="i0">Yet love alone, she modestly declared;</span> -<span class="i0">She must be spared inquiry, and was spared;</span> -<span class="i0">Of her poor studies she was not so weak</span> -<span class="i0">As in his presence, or at all, to speak;</span> -<span class="i0">But to discourse with him who, all agreed,</span> -<span class="i0">[Had] read so much, would be absurd indeed;</span> -<span class="i0">Ask what he might, she was so much a dunce</span> -<span class="i0">She would confess her ignorance at once.</span> -<span class="i2">“All this the man believed not—doom‘d to grieve</span> -<span class="i0">For this belief, he this would not believe: <span class="linenum">120</span></span> -<span class="i0">No! he was quite in raptures to discern</span> -<span class="i0">That love, and that avidity to learn.</span> -<span class="i0">‘Could she have found,’ she said, ‘a friend, a guide,</span> -<span class="i0">Like him, to study had been all her pride;</span> -<span class="i0">But, doom‘d so long to frivolous employ,</span> -<span class="i0">How could she those superior views enjoy?</span> -<span class="i0">The day might come—a happy day for her,</span> -<span class="i0">When she might choose the ways she should prefer.’</span> -<span class="i2">“Then too he learn‘d in accidental way,<span class="ws4">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">How much she grieved to lose the given day }<span class="linenum">130</span></span> -<span class="i0">In dissipation wild, in visitation gay.<span class="ws8">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Happy, most happy, must the woman prove</span> -<span class="i0">Who proudly looks on him she vows to love;</span> -<span class="i0">Who can her humble acquisitions state,</span> -<span class="i0">That he will praise, at least will tolerate.</span> -<span class="i2">“Still the cool mother sundry doubts express’d,—</span> -<span class="i0">‘How! is Augusta graver than the rest?</span> -<span class="i0">There are three others: they are not inclined</span> -<span class="i0">To feed with precious food the empty mind;</span> -<span class="i0">Whence this strong relish?’ ‘It is very strong,’ <span class="linenum">140</span></span> -<span class="i0">Replied the son, ‘and has possess’d her long;</span> -<span class="i0">Increased indeed, I may presume, by views—</span> -<span class="i0">We may suppose—ah! may she not refuse?’</span> -<span class="i0">‘Fear not!—I see the question must be tried,</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_424" id="Page_424">[Pg 424]</a></span> -<span class="i0">Nay, is determined—let us to your bride.’</span> -<span class="i2">“They soon were wedded, and the nymph appear’d</span> -<span class="i0">By all her promised excellence endear’d:</span> -<span class="i0">Her words were kind, were cautious, and were few,</span> -<span class="i0">And she was proud—of what her husband knew.</span> -<span class="i2">“Weeks pass’d away, some five or six, before, <span class="linenum">150</span></span> -<span class="i0">Bless’d in the present, Finch could think of more.</span> -<span class="i0">A month was next upon a journey spent,</span> -<span class="i0">When to the Lakes the fond companions went;</span> -<span class="i0">Then the gay town received them, and, at last,</span> -<span class="i0">Home to their mansion, man and wife, they pass’d.</span> -<span class="i2">“And now in quiet way they came to live</span> -<span class="i0">On what their fortune, love, and hopes would give.</span> -<span class="i0">The honied moon had nought but silver rays,</span> -<span class="i0">And shone benignly on their early days;</span> -<span class="i0">The second moon a light less vivid shed, <span class="linenum">160</span></span> -<span class="i0">And now the silver rays were tinged with lead.</span> -<span class="i0">They now began to look beyond the Hall,</span> -<span class="i0">And think what friends would make a morning-call;</span> -<span class="i0">Their former appetites return’d, and now</span> -<span class="i0">Both could their wishes and their tastes avow;</span> -<span class="i0">’Twas now no longer ‘just what you approve,’</span> -<span class="i0">But ‘let the wild fowl be to-day, my love.’</span> -<span class="i0">In fact the senses, drawn aside by force</span> -<span class="i0">Of a strong passion, sought their usual course.</span> -<span class="i2">“Now to her music would the wife repair, <span class="linenum">170</span></span> -<span class="i0">To which he listen’d once with eager air;</span> -<span class="i0">When there was so much harmony within,</span> -<span class="i0">That any note was sure its way to win;</span> -<span class="i0">But now the sweet melodious tones were sent</span> -<span class="i0">From the struck chords, and none cared where they went.</span> -<span class="i0">Full well we know that many a favourite air</span> -<span class="i0">That charms a party fails to charm a pair;</span> -<span class="i0">And as Augusta play’d she look’d around,</span> -<span class="i0">To see if one was dying at the sound;</span> -<span class="i0">But all were gone—a husband, wrapt in gloom, <span class="linenum">180</span></span> -<span class="i0">Stalk’d careless, listless, up and down the room.</span> -<span class="i2">“And now ’tis time to fill that ductile mind</span> -<span class="i0">With knowledge, from his stores of various kind.</span> -<span class="i0">His mother, in a peevish mood, had ask’d,</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_425" id="Page_425">[Pg 425]</a></span> -<span class="i0">’Does your Augusta profit? is she task’d?’</span> -<span class="i2">“‘Madam!’ he cried, offended with her looks,</span> -<span class="i0">‘There’s time for all things, and not all for books:</span> -<span class="i0">Just on one’s marriage to sit down, and prate</span> -<span class="i0">On points of learning, is a thing I hate.—’</span> -<span class="i2">“‘’Tis right, my son, and it appears to me, <span class="linenum">190</span></span> -<span class="i0">If deep your hatred, you must well agree.’</span> -<span class="i2">“Finch was too angry for a man so wise,</span> -<span class="i0">And said, ‘Insinuation I despise!</span> -<span class="i0">Nor do I wish to have a mind so full</span> -<span class="i0">Of learned trash—it makes a woman dull:</span> -<span class="i0">Let it suffice, that I in her discern</span> -<span class="i0">An aptitude, and a desire to learn.—’</span> -<span class="i2">“The matron smiled, but she observed a frown</span> -<span class="i0">On her son’s brow, and calmly sat her down,</span> -<span class="i0">Leaving the truth to Time, who solves our doubt, <span class="linenum">200</span></span> -<span class="i0">By bringing his all-glorious daughter out—</span> -<span class="i0">Truth! for whose beauty all their love profess;</span> -<span class="i0">And yet how many think it ugliness!</span> -<span class="i2">“‘Augusta, love,’ said Finch, ‘while you engage</span> -<span class="i0">In that embroidery, let me read a page.</span> -<span class="i0">Suppose it Hume’s; indeed he takes a side,</span> -<span class="i0">But still an author need not be our guide;</span> -<span class="i0">And, as he writes with elegance and ease,</span> -<span class="i0">Do now attend—he will be sure to please.</span> -<span class="i0">Here at the Revolution we commence— <span class="linenum">210</span></span> -<span class="i0">We date, you know, our liberties from hence.’</span> -<span class="i2">“‘Yes, sure,’ Augusta answer’d with a smile;</span> -<span class="i0">‘Our teacher always talk’d about his style,</span> -<span class="i0">When we about the Revolution read,</span> -<span class="i0">And how the martyrs to the flames were led:</span> -<span class="i0">The good old bishops, I forget their names,</span> -<span class="i0">But they were all committed to the flames;</span> -<span class="i0">Maidens and widows, bachelors and wives—</span> -<span class="i0">The very babes and sucklings lost their lives.</span> -<span class="i0">I read it all in Guthrie at the school— <span class="linenum">220</span></span> -<span class="i0">What now!—I know you took me for a fool;</span> -<span class="i0">There were five bishops taken from the stall,</span> -<span class="i0">And twenty widows, I remember all;</span> -<span class="i0">And by this token, that our teacher tried</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_426" id="Page_426">[Pg 426]</a></span> -<span class="i0">’To cry for pity, till she howl’d and cried.’</span> -<span class="i2">“‘True, true, my love, but you mistake the thing—</span> -<span class="i0">The Revolution that made William king</span> -<span class="i0">Is what I mean; the Reformation you,</span> -<span class="i0">In Edward and Elizabeth.’—‘’Tis true;</span> -<span class="i0">But the nice reading is the love between <span class="linenum">230</span></span> -<span class="i0">The brave Lord Essex and the cruel queen;</span> -<span class="i0">And how he sent the ring to save his head,</span> -<span class="i0">Which the false lady kept till he was dead.</span> -<span class="i2">“‘That is all true; now read, and I’ll attend;</span> -<span class="i0">But was not she a most deceitful friend?</span> -<span class="i0">It was a monstrous, vile, and treacherous thing</span> -<span class="i0">To show no pity, and to keep the ring;</span> -<span class="i0">But the queen shook her in her dying bed,</span> -<span class="i0">And ‘God forgive you!’ was the word she said;</span> -<span class="i0">‘Not I for certain;’—Come, I will attend; <span class="linenum">240</span></span> -<span class="i0">So read the Revolutions to an end.’</span> -<span class="i2">“Finch, with a timid, strange, inquiring look,</span> -<span class="i0">Softly and slowly laid aside the book</span> -<span class="i0">With sigh inaudible——‘Come, never heed,’</span> -<span class="i0">Said he, recovering; ‘now I cannot read.’</span> -<span class="i2">“They walk’d at leisure through their wood and groves,</span> -<span class="i0">In fields and lanes, and talk’d of plants and loves,</span> -<span class="i0">And loves of plants.—Said Finch, ‘Augusta, dear,</span> -<span class="i0">You said you loved to learn,—were you sincere?</span> -<span class="i0">Do you remember that you told me once <span class="linenum">250</span></span> -<span class="i0">How much you grieved, and said you were a dunce?</span> -<span class="i0">That is, you wanted information. Say,</span> -<span class="i0">What would you learn? I will direct your way.’</span> -<span class="i2">“‘Goodness!’ said she, ‘what meanings you discern</span> -<span class="i0">In a few words! I said I wish’d to learn,</span> -<span class="i0">And so I think I did; and you replied,</span> -<span class="i0">The wish was good: what would you now beside?</span> -<span class="i0">Did not you say it show’d an ardent mind;</span> -<span class="i0">And pray what more do you expect to find?’</span> -<span class="i2">“‘My dear Augusta, could you wish indeed <span class="linenum">260</span></span> -<span class="i0">For any knowledge, and not then proceed?</span> -<span class="i0">That is not wishing——’</span> -<span class="i24">“‘Mercy! how you tease!</span> -<span class="i0">You knew I said it with a view to please;</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_427" id="Page_427">[Pg 427]</a></span> -<span class="i0">A compliment to you, and quite enough—</span> -<span class="i0">You would not kill me with that puzzling stuff!</span> -<span class="i0">Sure I might say I wish’d; but that is still</span> -<span class="i0">Far from a promise: it is not,—‘I will.’</span> -<span class="i2">“‘But come, to show you that I will not hide</span> -<span class="i0">My proper talents, you shall be my guide;</span> -<span class="i0">And lady Boothby, when we meet, shall cry, <span class="linenum">270</span></span> -<span class="i0">She’s quite as good a botanist as I.’</span> -<span class="i2">“‘Right, my Augusta;’ and, in manner grave,</span> -<span class="i0">Finch his first lecture on the science gave;</span> -<span class="i0">An introduction—and he said, ‘My dear,</span> -<span class="i0">Your thought was happy—let us persevere;</span> -<span class="i0">And let no trifling cause our work retard.’</span> -<span class="i0">Agreed the lady, but she fear’d it hard.</span> -<span class="i2">“Now o’er the grounds they rambled many a mile;</span> -<span class="i0">He show’d the flowers, the stamina, the style,</span> -<span class="i0">Calix and corol, pericarp and fruit, <span class="linenum">280</span></span> -<span class="i0">And all the plant produces, branch and root;</span> -<span class="i0">Of these he treated, every varying shape,</span> -<span class="i0">Till poor Augusta panted to escape.</span> -<span class="i0">He show’d the various foliage plants produce,</span> -<span class="i0">Lunate and lyrate, runcinate, retuse;</span> -<span class="i0">Long were the learned words, and urged with force,</span> -<span class="i0">Panduriform, pinnatifid, premorse,</span> -<span class="i0">Latent, and patent, papulous, and plane—</span> -<span class="i0">‘Oh!’ said the pupil, ‘it will turn my brain.’</span> -<span class="i0">‘Fear not,’ he answer’d, and again, intent <span class="linenum">290</span></span> -<span class="i0">To fill that mind, o’er class and order went;</span> -<span class="i0">And stopping, ‘Now,’ said he, ‘my love, attend.’</span> -<span class="i0">‘I do,’ said she, ‘but when will be an end?’—</span> -<span class="i0">‘When we have made some progress—now begin,</span> -<span class="i0">Which is the stigma, show me with the pin;</span> -<span class="i0">Come, I have told you, dearest, let me see,</span> -<span class="i0">Times very many—tell it now to me.’</span> -<span class="i2">“‘Stigma! I know,—the things with yellow heads,</span> -<span class="i0">That shed the dust, and grow upon the threads;</span> -<span class="i0">You call them wives and husbands, but you know <span class="linenum">300</span></span> -<span class="i0">That is a joke—here, look, and I will show</span> -<span class="i0">All I remember.’—Doleful was the look</span> -<span class="i0">Of the preceptor, when he shut his book—</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_428" id="Page_428">[Pg 428]</a></span> -<span class="i0">The system brought to aid them in their view,</span> -<span class="i0">And now with sighs return’d—‘It will not do.’</span> -<span class="i2">“A handsome face first led him to suppose,</span> -<span class="i0">There must be talent with such looks as those;</span> -<span class="i0">The want of talent taught him now to find</span> -<span class="i0">The face less handsome with so poor a mind;</span> -<span class="i0">And half the beauty faded, when he found <span class="linenum">310</span></span> -<span class="i0">His cherish’d hopes were falling to the ground.</span> -<span class="i2">“Finch lost his spirit; but e’en then he sought</span> -<span class="i0">For fancied powers: she might in time be taught.</span> -<span class="i0">Sure there was nothing in that mind to fear;</span> -<span class="i0">The favourite study did not yet appear.—</span> -<span class="i2">“Once he express’d a doubt if she could look</span> -<span class="i0">For five succeeding minutes on a book;</span> -<span class="i0">When, with awaken’d spirit, she replied,</span> -<span class="i0">‘He was mistaken, and she would be tried.’</span> -<span class="i2">“With this delighted, he new hopes express’d— <span class="linenum">320</span></span> -<span class="i0">‘How do I know?—She may abide the test?</span> -<span class="i0">Men I have known, and famous in their day,</span> -<span class="i0">Who were by chance directed in their way.</span> -<span class="i0">I have been hasty.—Well, Augusta, well,</span> -<span class="i0">What is your favourite reading? prithee tell;</span> -<span class="i0">Our different tastes may different books require—</span> -<span class="i0">Yours I may not peruse, and yet admire:</span> -<span class="i0">Do then explain.’—‘Good Heaven!’ said she, in haste,</span> -<span class="i0">‘How do I hate these lectures upon taste!’</span> -<span class="i2">“‘I lecture not, my love; but do declare— <span class="linenum">330</span></span> -<span class="i0">You read, you say—what your attainments are.’</span> -<span class="i2">“‘Oh! you believe,’ said she, ‘that other things</span> -<span class="i0">Are read as well as histories of kings,</span> -<span class="i0">And loves of plants, with all that simple stuff</span> -<span class="i0">About their sex, of which I know enough.</span> -<span class="i0">Well, if I must, I will my studies name,</span> -<span class="i0">Blame if you please—I know you love to blame.</span> -<span class="i0">When all our childish books were set apart,</span> -<span class="i0">The first I read was ‘Wanderings of the Heart:’</span> -<span class="i0">It was a story, where was done a deed <span class="linenum">340</span></span> -<span class="i0">So dreadful, that alone I fear’d to read.</span> -<span class="i2">“‘The next was ‘The Confessions of a Nun—’</span> -<span class="i0">’Twas quite a shame such evil should be done;</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_429" id="Page_429">[Pg 429]</a></span> -<span class="i0">‘Nun of—no matter for the creature’s name,</span> -<span class="i0">For there are girls no nunnery can tame.</span> -<span class="i0">Then was the story of the Haunted Hall,</span> -<span class="i0">Where the huge picture nodded from the wall</span> -<span class="i0">When the old lord look’d up with trembling dread,</span> -<span class="i0">And I grew pale, and shudder’d as I read.</span> -<span class="i0">Then came the tales of Winters, Summers, Springs, <span class="linenum">350</span></span> -<span class="i0">At Bath and Brighton,—they were pretty things!</span> -<span class="i0">No ghosts nor spectres there were heard or seen,</span> -<span class="i0">But all was love and flight to Gretna-green.</span> -<span class="i0">Perhaps your greater learning may despise</span> -<span class="i0">What others like, and there your wisdom lies—</span> -<span class="i0">Well! do not frown—I read the tender tales</span> -<span class="i0">Of lonely cots, retreats in silent vales</span> -<span class="i0">For maids forsaken, and suspected wives,</span> -<span class="i0">Against whose peace some foe his plot contrives;</span> -<span class="i0">With all the hidden schemes that none can clear <span class="linenum">360</span></span> -<span class="i0">Till the last book, and then the ghosts appear.</span> -<span class="i2">“‘I read all plays that on the boards succeed, }</span> -<span class="i0">And all the works that ladies ever read— <span class="ws6">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Shakspeare, and all the rest—I did, indeed,—<span class="ws3">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Ay! you may stare; but, sir, believe it true</span> -<span class="i0">That we can read and learn, as well as you.</span> -<span class="i2">“‘I would not boast,—but I could act a scene</span> -<span class="i0">In any play, before I was fifteen.</span> -<span class="i2">“‘Nor is this all; for many are the times</span> -<span class="i0">I read in Pope and Milton, prose and rhymes; <span class="linenum">370</span></span> -<span class="i0">They were our lessons, and, at ten years old,</span> -<span class="i0">I could repeat——but now enough is told.</span> -<span class="i0">Sir, I can tell you I my mind applied<span class="ws10">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">To all my studies, and was not denied<span class="ws9">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Praise for my progress——Are you satisfied?’ }</span> -<span class="i2">“‘Entirely, madam! else were I possess’d</span> -<span class="i0">By a strong spirit who could never rest.</span> -<span class="i0">Yes! yes, no more I question—here I close</span> -<span class="i0">The theme for ever—let us to repose.’”</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_430" id="Page_430">[Pg 430]</a></span> -</div></div></div> - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> -<p class="f150"><b>TALES OF THE HALL.</b></p> -<h3>BOOK X.</h3> -<p class="f110"><i>THE OLD BACHELOR.</i></p> -</div> - -<p class="blockquot"> -A Friend arrives at the Hall—Old Bachelors and Maids—Relation -of one—His Parents—The first Courtship—The second—The third— -Long Interval—Travel—Decline of Life—The fourth Lady—Conclusion. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_431" id="Page_431">[Pg 431]</a></span></p> - -<p class="f150 break space-above2"><b>TALES OF THE HALL.</b></p> -<p class="f120"><b>BOOK X.</b></p> -<p class="f110"><i>THE OLD BACHELOR.</i></p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poem2"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Save their kind friend the rector, Richard yet</span> -<span class="i0">Had not a favourite of his brother met;</span> -<span class="i0">Now at the Hall that welcome guest appear’d,</span> -<span class="i0">By trust, by trials, and by time endear’d;</span> -<span class="i0">Of him the grateful ’squire his love profess’d,</span> -<span class="i0">And full regard—he was of friends the best;</span> -<span class="i0">“Yet not to him alone this good I owe,</span> -<span class="i0">This social pleasure that our friends bestow;</span> -<span class="i0">The sex that wrought in earlier life my woes,</span> -<span class="i0">With loss of time who murder’d my repose, <span class="linenum">10</span></span> -<span class="i0">They to my joys administer, nor vex</span> -<span class="i0">Me more; and now I venerate the sex;</span> -<span class="i0">And boast the friendship of a spinster kind,</span> -<span class="i0">Cheerful and pleasant, to her fate resign’d;</span> -<span class="i0">Then by her side my bachelor I place,</span> -<span class="i0">And hold them honours to the human race.</span> -<span class="i0">Yet these are they in tale and song display’d,</span> -<span class="i0">The peevish man, and the repining maid;</span> -<span class="i0">Creatures made up of misery and spite,</span> -<span class="i0">Who taste no pleasures, except those they blight; <span class="linenum">20</span></span> -<span class="i0">From whom th’ affrighten’d niece and nephew fly—</span> -<span class="i0">Fear’d while they live, and useless till they die.</span> -<span class="i2">“Not such these friends of mine; they never meant</span> -<span class="i0">That youth should so be lost, or life be spent.</span> -<span class="i0">They had warm passions, tender hopes, desires</span> -<span class="i0">That youth indulges, and that love inspires;</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_432" id="Page_432">[Pg 432]</a></span> -<span class="i0">But fortune frown’d on their designs, displaced</span> -<span class="i0">The views of hope, and love’s gay dreams disgraced;</span> -<span class="i0">Took from the soul her sunny views, and spread</span> -<span class="i0">A cloud of dark but varying gloom instead. <span class="linenum">30</span></span> -<span class="i0">And shall we these with ridicule pursue,</span> -<span class="i0">Because they did not what they could not do?</span> -<span class="i0">If they their lot preferr’d, still why the jest</span> -<span class="i0">On those who took the way they judged the best?</span> -<span class="i0">But if they sought a change, and sought in vain,</span> -<span class="i0">’Tis worse than brutal to deride their pain—</span> -<span class="i0">But you will see them; see the man I praise,</span> -<span class="i0">The kind protector in my troubled days,</span> -<span class="i0">Himself in trouble; you shall see him now,</span> -<span class="i0">And learn his worth! and my applause allow.” <span class="linenum">40</span></span> -<span class="i2">This friend appear’d, with talents form’d to please,</span> -<span class="i0">And with some looks of sprightliness and ease;</span> -<span class="i0">To him indeed the ills of life were known,</span> -<span class="i0">But misery had not made him all her own.</span> -<span class="i2">They spoke on various themes, and George design’d</span> -<span class="i0">To show his brother this, the favourite mind;</span> -<span class="i0">To lead the friend, by subjects he could choose, <span class="ws10">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">To paint himself, his life, and earlier views,<span class="ws14">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">What he was bless’d to hope, what he was doom’d to lose. }</span> -<span class="i2">They spoke of marriage, and he understood <span class="linenum">50</span></span> -<span class="i0">Their call on him, and said, “It is not good</span> -<span class="i0">To be alone, although alone to be</span> -<span class="i0">Is freedom; so are men in deserts free;</span> -<span class="i0">Men who unyoked and unattended groan,</span> -<span class="i0">Condemn’d and grieved to walk their way alone.</span> -<span class="i0">Whatever ills a married pair betide,</span> -<span class="i0">Each feels a stay, a comfort, or a guide;</span> -<span class="i0">‘Not always comfort,’ will our wits reply.—</span> -<span class="i0">Wits are not judges, nor the cause shall try.</span> -<span class="i2">“Have I not seen, when grief his visits paid, <span class="linenum">60</span></span> -<span class="i0">That they were easier by communion made?</span> -<span class="i0">True, with the quiet times and days serene,</span> -<span class="i0">There have been flying clouds of care and spleen;</span> -<span class="i0">But is not man, the solitary, sick</span> -<span class="i0">Of his existence, sad and splenetic?</span> -<span class="i0">And who will help him, when such evils come,</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_433" id="Page_433">[Pg 433]</a></span> -<span class="i0">To bear the pressure or to clear the gloom?</span> -<span class="i2">“Do you not find, that joy within the breast</span> -<span class="i0">Of the unwedded man is soon suppress’d;</span> -<span class="i0">While, to the bosom of a wife convey’d, <span class="linenum">70</span></span> -<span class="i0">Increase is by participation made?—</span> -<span class="i0">The lighted lamp that gives another light,</span> -<span class="i0">Say, is it by th’ imparted blaze less bright?</span> -<span class="i0">Are not both gainers when the heart’s distress</span> -<span class="i0">Is so divided that the pain is less?</span> -<span class="i0">And when the tear has stood in either eye,</span> -<span class="i0">Love’s sun shines out, and they are quickly dry.”</span> -<span class="i2">He ended here—but would he not confess,</span> -<span class="i0">How came these feelings on his mind to press?</span> -<span class="i0">He would! nor fear’d his weakness to display <span class="linenum">80</span></span> -<span class="i0">To men like them; their weakness too had they.</span> -<span class="i3">Bright shone the fire, wine sparkled, sordid care</span> -<span class="i0">Was banish’d far, at least appear’d not there;</span> -<span class="i0">A kind and social spirit each possess’d,</span> -<span class="i0">And thus began his tale the friendly guest.</span> -</div></div> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i2">“Near to my father’s mansion—but apart,</span> -<span class="i0">I must acknowledge, from my father’s heart—</span> -<span class="i0">Dwelt a keen sportsman, in a pleasant seat;</span> -<span class="i0">Nor met the neighbours as should neighbours meet.</span> -<span class="i0">To them revenge appear’d a kind of right, <span class="linenum">90</span></span> -<span class="i0">A lawful pleasure, an avow’d delight;</span> -<span class="i0">Their neighbours too blew up their passion’s fire,</span> -<span class="i0">And urged the anger of each rival-squire;</span> -<span class="i0">More still their waspish tempers to inflame,</span> -<span class="i0">A party-spirit, friend of anger, came.</span> -<span class="i0">Oft would my father cry, ‘that tory-knave,</span> -<span class="i0">That villain-placeman, would the land enslave.’</span> -<span class="i0">Not that his neighbour had indeed a place,</span> -<span class="i0">But would accept one—that was his disgrace;</span> -<span class="i0">Who, in his turn, was sure my father plann’d <span class="linenum">100</span></span> -<span class="i0">To revolutionize his native land.</span> -<span class="i0">He dared the most destructive things advance,</span> -<span class="i0">And even pray’d for liberty to France;</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_434" id="Page_434">[Pg 434]</a></span> -<span class="i0">Had still good hope that Heaven would grant his prayer,</span> -<span class="i0">That he might see a revolution there.</span> -<span class="i0">At this the tory-squire was much perplex’d,</span> -<span class="i0">‘Freedom in France!—what will he utter next?</span> -<span class="i0">Sooner should I in Paris look to see</span> -<span class="i0">An English army sent their guard to be.’</span> -<span class="i2">“My poor mamma, who had her mind subdued <span class="linenum">110</span></span> -<span class="i0">By whig-control, and hated every feud,</span> -<span class="i0">Would have her neighbour met with mind serene;</span> -<span class="i0">But fiercer spirit fired the tory-queen.</span> -<span class="i0">My parents both had given her high disgust,</span> -<span class="i0">Which she resenting said, ‘Revenge is just;’</span> -<span class="i0">And till th’ offending parties chose to stoop,</span> -<span class="i0">She judged it right to keep resentment up;</span> -<span class="i0">Could she in friendship with a woman live</span> -<span class="i0">Who could the insult of a man forgive?</span> -<span class="i0">Did not her husband in a crowded room <span class="linenum">120</span></span> -<span class="i0">Once call her idiot, and the thing was dumb?</span> -<span class="i0">The man’s attack was brutal to be sure,</span> -<span class="i0">But she no less an idiot to endure.</span> -<span class="i2">“This lofty dame, with unrelenting soul,</span> -<span class="i0">Had a fair girl to govern and control;</span> -<span class="i0">The dear Maria!—whom, when first I met,—</span> -<span class="i0">Shame on this weakness! do I feel it yet?</span> -<span class="i2">“The parents’ anger, you will oft-times see,</span> -<span class="i0">Prepares the children’s minds for amity;</span> -<span class="i0">Youth will not enter into such debate, <span class="linenum">130</span></span> -<span class="i0">’Tis not in them to cherish groundless hate;</span> -<span class="i0">Nor can they feel men’s quarrels or their cares,</span> -<span class="i0">Of whig or tory, partridges or hares.</span> -<span class="i2">“Long ere we loved, this gentle girl and I</span> -<span class="i0">Gave to our parents’ discord many a sigh;</span> -<span class="i0">It was not ours—and, when the meeting came,</span> -<span class="i0">It pleased us much to find our thoughts the same;</span> -<span class="i0">But grief and trouble in our minds arose</span> -<span class="i0">From the fierce spirits we could not compose;</span> -<span class="i0">And much it vex’d us that the friends so dear <span class="linenum">140</span></span> -<span class="i0">To us should foes among themselves appear.</span> -<span class="i2">“Such was this maid, the angel of her race,</span> -<span class="i0">Whom I had loved in any time and place,</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_435" id="Page_435">[Pg 435]</a></span> -<span class="i0">But in a time and place which chance assign’d,</span> -<span class="i0">When it was almost treason to be kind;</span> -<span class="i0">When we had vast impediments in view,</span> -<span class="i0">Then wonder not that love in terror grew</span> -<span class="i0">With double speed—we look’d, and strove to find</span> -<span class="i0">A kindred spirit in the hostile mind;</span> -<span class="i0">But is it hostile? there appears no sign <span class="linenum">150</span></span> -<span class="i0">In those dear looks of warfare—none have mine;</span> -<span class="i0">At length I whisper’d—‘Would that war might cease</span> -<span class="i0">Between our houses, and that all was peace!’</span> -<span class="i0">A sweet confusion on her features rose,</span> -<span class="i0">‘She could not bear to think of having foes,</span> -<span class="i0">When we might all as friends and neighbours live,</span> -<span class="i0">And for that blessing, O! what would she give!’—</span> -<span class="i0">‘Then let us try and our endeavours blend,’</span> -<span class="i0">I said, ‘to bring these quarrels to an end.’</span> -<span class="i0">Thus, with one purpose in our hearts, we strove, <span class="linenum">160</span></span> -<span class="i0">And, if no more, increased our secret love:</span> -<span class="i0">Love that, with such impediments in view,</span> -<span class="i0">To meet the growing danger stronger grew;</span> -<span class="i0">And from that time each heart, resolved and sure,</span> -<span class="i0">Grew firm in hope, and patient to endure.</span> -<span class="i2">“To those who know this season of delight</span> -<span class="i0">I need not strive their feelings to excite;</span> -<span class="i0">To those who know not the delight or pain,</span> -<span class="i0">The best description would be lent in vain;</span> -<span class="i0">And to the grieving, who will no more find <span class="linenum">170</span></span> -<span class="i0">The bower of bliss, to paint it were unkind.</span> -<span class="i0">I pass it by, to tell that long we tried</span> -<span class="i0">To bring our fathers over to our side;</span> -<span class="i0">’Twas bootless on their wives our skill to try,</span> -<span class="i0">For one would not, and one in vain, comply.</span> -<span class="i2">“First I began my father’s heart to move,</span> -<span class="i0">By boldly saying ‘We are born to love;’</span> -<span class="i0">My father answer’d, with an air of ease,</span> -<span class="i0">‘Well! very well! be loving if you please!</span> -<span class="i0">Except a man insults us or offends, <span class="linenum">180</span></span> -<span class="i0">In my opinion we should all be friends.’</span> -<span class="i2">“This gain’d me nothing; little would accrue</span> -<span class="i0">From clearing points so useless though so true;</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_436" id="Page_436">[Pg 436]</a></span> -<span class="i0">But with some pains I brought him to confess,</span> -<span class="i0">That to forgive our wrongs is to redress.</span> -<span class="i2">“‘It might be so,’ he answer’d, yet with doubt</span> -<span class="i0">That it might not; ‘but what is this about?’</span> -<span class="i0">I dared not speak directly, but I strove</span> -<span class="i0">To keep my subjects, harmony and love.</span> -<span class="i2">“Coolly my father look’d, and much enjoy’d <span class="linenum">190</span></span> -<span class="i0">The broken eloquence his eye destroy’d;</span> -<span class="i0">Yet less confused, and more resolved at last,</span> -<span class="i0">With bolder effort to my point I past;</span> -<span class="i0">And, fondly speaking of my peerless maid, <span class="ws12">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">I call’d her worth and beauty to my aid;<span class="ws15">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">‘Then make her mine!’ I said, and for his favour pray’d. }</span> -<span class="i2">“My father’s look was one I seldom saw;</span> -<span class="i0">It gave no pleasure, nor created awe:</span> -<span class="i0">It was the kind of cool contemptuous smile</span> -<span class="i0">Of witty persons, overcharged with bile; <span class="linenum">200</span></span> -<span class="i0">At first he spoke not, nor at last to me—</span> -<span class="i2">“‘Well now, and what if such a thing could be?</span> -<span class="i0">What, if the boy should his addresses pay</span> -<span class="i0">To the tall girl, would that old tory say?</span> -<span class="i0">I have no hatred to the dog—but, still,</span> -<span class="i0">It was some pleasure when I used him ill;</span> -<span class="i0">This I must lose if we should brethren be,</span> -<span class="i0">Yet may be not, for brethren disagree;</span> -<span class="i0">The fool is right—there is no bar in life</span> -<span class="i0">Against their marriage—let her be his wife.— <span class="linenum">210</span></span> -<span class="i0">Well, sir, you hear me!’—Never man complied,</span> -<span class="i0">And left a beggar so dissatisfied;</span> -<span class="i0">Though all was granted, yet was grace refused;<span class="ws4">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">I felt as one indulged, and yet abused; <span class="ws11">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">And yet, although provoked, I was not unamused. }</span> -<span class="i2">“In a reply like this appear’d to meet</span> -<span class="i0">All that encourage hope, and that defeat;</span> -<span class="i0">Consent, though cool, had been for me enough,</span> -<span class="i0">But this consent had something of reproof;</span> -<span class="i0">I had prepared my answer to his rage, <span class="linenum">220</span></span> -<span class="i0">With his contempt I thought not to engage.</span> -<span class="i0">I, like a hero, would my castle storm,</span> -<span class="i0">And meet the giant in his proper form;</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_437" id="Page_437">[Pg 437]</a></span> -<span class="i0">Then, conquering him, would set my princess free:</span> -<span class="i0">This would a trial and a triumph be—</span> -<span class="i0">When lo! a sneering menial brings the keys,</span> -<span class="i0">And cries in scorn, ‘Come, enter, if you please;</span> -<span class="i0">You’ll find the lady sitting on her bed,</span> -<span class="i0">And ’tis expected that you woo and wed.’</span> -<span class="i2">“Yet not so easy was my conquest found; <span class="linenum">230</span></span> -<span class="i0">I met with trouble ere with triumph crown’d.</span> -<span class="i0">Triumph, alas!—My father little thought,</span> -<span class="i0">A king at home, how other minds are wrought;</span> -<span class="i0">True, his meek neighbour was a gentle squire,</span> -<span class="i0">And had a soul averse from wrath and ire;</span> -<span class="i0">He answer’d frankly, when to him I went,</span> -<span class="i0">‘I give you little, sir, in my consent.’</span> -<span class="i0">He and my mother were to us inclined,</span> -<span class="i0">The powerless party with the peaceful mind;</span> -<span class="i0">But that meek man was destined to obey <span class="linenum">240</span></span> -<span class="i0">A sovereign lady’s unremitted sway,</span> -<span class="i0">Who bore no partial, no divided rule;</span> -<span class="i0">All were obedient pupils in her school.</span> -<span class="i0">She had religious zeal, both strong and sour,</span> -<span class="i0">That gave an active sternness to her power;</span> -<span class="i0">But few could please her—she herself was one</span> -<span class="i0">By whom that deed was very seldom done.</span> -<span class="i0">With such a being, so disposed to feed</span> -<span class="i0">Contempt and scorn—how was I to succeed?</span> -<span class="i0">But love commanded, and I made my prayer <span class="linenum">250</span></span> -<span class="i0">To the stern lady, with an humble air,</span> -<span class="i0">Said all that lovers hope, all measures tried</span> -<span class="i0">That love suggested, and bow’d down to pride.</span> -<span class="i2">“Yes! I have now the tygress in my eye—</span> -<span class="i0">When I had ceased and waited her reply,</span> -<span class="i0">A pause ensued; and then she slowly rose,</span> -<span class="i0">With bitter smile predictive of my woes,</span> -<span class="i0">A look she saw was plainly understood——</span> -<span class="i2">“‘Admire my daughter! Sir, you’re very good.</span> -<span class="i0">The girl is decent, take her all in all—<span class="ws18">}</span><span class="linenum">260</span></span> -<span class="i0">Genteel, we hope—perhaps a thought too tall; <span class="ws11">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">A daughter’s portion hers—you’ll think her fortune small. }</span> -<span class="i0">Perhaps her uncles, in a cause so good,</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_438" id="Page_438">[Pg 438]</a></span> -<span class="i0">Would do a little for their flesh and blood;</span> -<span class="i0">We are not ill allied—and, say we make</span> -<span class="i0">Her portion decent, whither would you take?</span> -<span class="i0">Is there some cottage on your father’s ground,</span> -<span class="i0">Where may a dwelling for the girl be found?</span> -<span class="i0">Or a small farm—your mother understands</span> -<span class="i0">How to make useful such a pair of hands. <span class="linenum">270</span></span> -<span class="i2">“‘But this we drop at present, if you please;</span> -<span class="i0">We shall have leisure for such things as these;</span> -<span class="i0">They will be proper ere you fix the day</span> -<span class="i0">For the poor girl to honour and obey;</span> -<span class="i0">At present therefore we may put an end</span> -<span class="i0">To our discourse—Good morrow to you, friend!’</span> -<span class="i2">“Then, with a solemn curtesy and profound,<span class="ws8">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Her laughing eye she lifted from the ground, <span class="ws9">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">And left me lost in thought, and gazing idly round.—  }</span> -<span class="i2">“Still we had hope, and, growing bold in time, <span class="linenum">280</span></span> -<span class="i0">I would engage the father in our crime;</span> -<span class="i0">But he refused, for, though he wish’d us well,</span> -<span class="i0">He said, ‘he must not make his house a hell;’—</span> -<span class="i0">And sure the meaning look that I convey’d</span> -<span class="i0">Did not inform him that the hell was made.</span> -<span class="i2">“Still hope existed that a mother’s heart</span> -<span class="i0">Would in a daughter’s feelings take a part;</span> -<span class="i0">Nor was it vain—for there is found access</span> -<span class="i0">To a hard heart, in time of its distress.</span> -<span class="i2">“The mother sicken’d, and the daughter sigh’d, <span class="linenum">290</span></span> -<span class="i0">And we petition’d till our queen complied;</span> -<span class="i0">She thought of dying, and, if power must cease,</span> -<span class="i0">Better to make, than cause, th’ expected peace;</span> -<span class="i0">And sure, this kindness mixing with the blood,</span> -<span class="i0">Its balmy influence caused the body’s good;</span> -<span class="i0">For as a charm it work’d upon the frame</span> -<span class="i0">Of the reviving and relenting dame;</span> -<span class="i0">For, when recover’d, she no more opposed</span> -<span class="i0">Her daughter’s wishes.—Here contention closed.</span> -<span class="i2">“Then bliss ensued, so exquisitely sweet, <span class="linenum">300</span></span> -<span class="i0">That with it once, once only, we can meet;</span> -<span class="i0">For, though we love again, and though once more</span> -<span class="i0">We feel th’ enlivening hope we felt before,</span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_439" id="Page_439">[Pg 439]</a></span> -<span class="i0">Still the pure freshness of the joy that cast</span> -<span class="i0">Its sweet around us is for ever past.</span> -<span class="i0">O! time to memory precious—ever dear, <span class="ws14">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Though ever painful—this eventful year;<span class="ws14">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">What bliss is now in view! and now what woes appear!  }</span> -<span class="i0">Sweet hours of expectation!—I was gone</span> -<span class="i0">To the vile town to press our business on; <span class="linenum">310</span></span> -<span class="i0">To urge its formal instruments—and lo!</span> -<span class="i0">Comes with dire looks a messenger of wo,</span> -<span class="i0">With tidings sad as death!—With all my speed</span> -<span class="i0">I reach’d her home!—but that pure soul was freed—</span> -<span class="i0">She was no more—for ever shut that eye,</span> -<span class="i0">That look’d all soul, as if it could not die;</span> -<span class="i0">It could not see me—O! the strange distress<span class="ws4">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Of these new feelings!—misery’s excess,<span class="ws6">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">What can describe it? words will not express.  }</span> -<span class="i0">When I look back upon that dreadful scene, <span class="linenum">320</span></span> -<span class="i0">I feel renew’d the anguish that has been,</span> -<span class="i0">And reason trembles——Yes! you bid me cease,</span> -<span class="i0">Nor try to think; but I will think in peace.—</span> -<span class="i0">Unbid and unforbidden, to the room</span> -<span class="i0">I went, a gloomy wretch amid that gloom;</span> -<span class="i0">And there the lovely being on her bed</span> -<span class="i0">Shrouded and cold was laid—Maria dead!</span> -<span class="i0">There was I left—and I have now no thought</span> -<span class="i0">Remains with me, how fear or fancy wrought;</span> -<span class="i0">I know I gazed upon the marble cheek, <span class="linenum">330</span></span> -<span class="i0">And pray’d the dear departed girl to speak—</span> -<span class="i0">Further I know not, for, till years were fled,</span> -<span class="i0">All was extinguish’d—all with her was dead.</span> -<span class="i0">I had a general terror, dread of all</span> -<span class="i0">That could a thinking, feeling man befall;</span> -<span class="i0">I was desirous from myself to run,</span> -<span class="i0">And something, but I knew not what, to shun.</span> -<span class="i0">There was a blank from this I cannot fill;</span> -<span class="i0">It is a puzzle and a terror still.</span> -<span class="i0">Yet did I feel some intervals of bliss, <span class="linenum">340</span></span> -<span class="i0">Ev’n with the horrors of a fate like this;</span> -<span class="i0">And dreams of wonderful construction paid</span> -<span class="i0">For waking horror—dear angelic maid!</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_440" id="Page_440">[Pg 440]</a></span> -<span class="i2">“When peace return’d, unfelt for many a year,</span> -<span class="i0">And hope, discarded flatterer, dared t’ appear;</span> -<span class="i0">I heard of my estate, how free from debt,</span> -<span class="i0">And of the comforts life afforded yet;</span> -<span class="i0">Beside that best of comforts in a life</span> -<span class="i0">So sad as mine—a fond and faithful wife.</span> -<span class="i0">My gentle mother, now a widow, made <span class="linenum">350</span></span> -<span class="i0">These strong attempts to guide me or persuade.</span> -<span class="i2">“‘Much time is lost,’ she said, ‘but yet my son</span> -<span class="i0">May, in the race of life, have much to run;</span> -<span class="i0">When I am gone, thy life to thee will seem</span> -<span class="i0">Lonely and sad, a melancholy dream;</span> -<span class="i0">Get thee a wife—I will not say to love,</span> -<span class="i0">But one, a friend in thy distress to prove;</span> -<span class="i0">One who will kindly help thee to sustain</span> -<span class="i0">Thy spirit’s burden in its hours of pain:</span> -<span class="i0">Say, will you marry?’—I in haste replied, <span class="linenum">360</span></span> -<span class="i0">‘And who would be the self-devoted bride?</span> -<span class="i0">There is a melancholy power that reigns</span> -<span class="i0">Tyrant within me—who would bear his chains,</span> -<span class="i0">And hear them clicking every wretched hour,</span> -<span class="i0">With will to aid me, but without the power?</span> -<span class="i0">But if such one were found with easy mind,</span> -<span class="i0">Who would not ask for raptures—I’m resign’d.’</span> -<span class="i2">“‘’Tis quite enough,’ my gentle mother cried;</span> -<span class="i0">‘We leave the raptures, and will find the bride.’</span> -<span class="i2">“There was a lady near us, quite discreet, <span class="linenum">370</span></span> -<span class="i0">Whom in our visits ’twas our chance to meet:</span> -<span class="i0">One grave and civil, who had no desire</span> -<span class="i0">That men should praise her beauties or admire;</span> -<span class="i0">She in our walks would sometimes take my arm,</span> -<span class="i0">But had no foolish fluttering or alarm;</span> -<span class="i0">She wish’d no heart to wound, no truth to prove,</span> -<span class="i0">And seem’d, like me, as one estranged from love;</span> -<span class="i0">My mother praised her, and with so much skill,</span> -<span class="i0">She gave a certain bias to my will;</span> -<span class="i0">But calm indeed our courtship; I profess’d <span class="linenum">380</span></span> -<span class="i0">A due regard—My mother did the rest:</span> -<span class="i0">Who soon declared that we should love, and grow</span> -<span class="i0">As fond a couple as the world could show;</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_441" id="Page_441">[Pg 441]</a></span> -<span class="i0">And talk’d of boys and girls with so much glee,</span> -<span class="i0">That I began to wish the thing could be.</span> -<span class="i2">“Still, when the day that soon would come was named,</span> -<span class="i0">I felt a cold fit, and was half ashamed;</span> -<span class="i0">But we too far proceeded to revoke,</span> -<span class="i0">And had been much too serious for a joke;</span> -<span class="i0">I shook away the fear that man annoys, <span class="linenum">390</span></span> -<span class="i0">And thought a little of the girls and boys.</span> -<span class="i2">“A week remain’d—for seven succeeding days</span> -<span class="i0">Nor man nor woman might control my ways;</span> -<span class="i0">For seven dear nights I might to rest retire</span> -<span class="i0">At my own time, and none the cause require;</span> -<span class="i0">For seven blest days I might go in and out,</span> -<span class="i0">And none demand, ‘Sir, what are you about?’</span> -<span class="i0">For one whole week I might at will discourse</span> -<span class="i0">On any subject, with a freeman’s force.</span> -<span class="i2">“Thus while I thought, I utter’d, as men sing <span class="linenum">400</span></span> -<span class="i0">In under-voice, reciting ‘With this ring;’</span> -<span class="i0">That, when the hour should come, I might not dread</span> -<span class="i0">These, or the words that follow’d, ‘I thee wed.’</span> -<span class="i2">“Such was my state of mind, exulting now</span> -<span class="i0">And then depress’d—I cannot tell you how—</span> -<span class="i0">When a poor lady, whom her friends could send</span> -<span class="i0">On any message, a convenient friend,</span> -<span class="i0">Who had all feelings of her own o’ercome,</span> -<span class="i0">And could pronounce to any man his doom;</span> -<span class="i0">Whose heart indeed was marble, but whose face <span class="linenum">410</span></span> -<span class="i0">Assumed the look adapted to the case,</span> -<span class="i0">Enter’d my room, commission’d to assuage</span> -<span class="i0">What was foreseen, my sorrow and my rage.</span> -<span class="i2">“It seem’d the lady whom I could prefer,</span> -<span class="i0">And could my much-loved freedom lose for her,</span> -<span class="i0">Had bold attempts, but not successful, made,</span> -<span class="i0">The heart of some rich cousin to invade;</span> -<span class="i0">Who, half resisting, half complying, kept</span> -<span class="i0">A cautious distance, and the business slept.</span> -<span class="i2">“This prudent swain his own importance knew, <span class="linenum">420</span></span> -<span class="i0">And swore to part the now affianced two.</span> -<span class="i0">Fill’d with insidious purpose, forth he went,</span> -<span class="i0">Profess’d his love, and woo’d her to consent.</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_442" id="Page_442">[Pg 442]</a></span> -<span class="i0">‘Ah! were it true!’ she sigh’d; he boldly swore</span> -<span class="i0">His love sincere, and mine was sought no more.</span> -<span class="i2">“All this the witch at dreadful length reveal’d,</span> -<span class="i0">And begg’d me calmly to my fate to yield:</span> -<span class="i0">Much pains she took engagements old to state,</span> -<span class="i0">And hoped to hear me curse my cruel fate,</span> -<span class="i0">Threat’ning my luckless life; and thought it strange <span class="linenum">430</span></span> -<span class="i0">In me to bear the unexpected change;</span> -<span class="i0">In my calm feelings she beheld disguise,</span> -<span class="i0">And told of some strange wildness in my eyes.</span> -<span class="i2">“But there was nothing in the eye amiss,</span> -<span class="i0">And the heart calmly bore a stroke like this.</span> -<span class="i0">Not so my mother; though of gentle kind,</span> -<span class="i0">She could no mercy for the creature find.</span> -<span class="i2">“‘Vile plot!’ she said.—‘But, madam, if they plot,</span> -<span class="i0">And you would have revenge, disturb them not.’—</span> -<span class="i2">“‘What can we do, my son?’—‘Consult our ease, <span class="linenum">440</span></span> -<span class="i0">And do just nothing, madam, if you please.’—</span> -<span class="i2">“‘What will be said?’—‘We need not that discuss;</span> -<span class="i0">Our friends and neighbours will do that for us.’—</span> -<span class="i2">“‘Do you so lightly, son, your loss sustain?’—</span> -<span class="i0">‘Nay, my dear madam, but I count it gain.’—</span> -<span class="i2">“‘The world will blame us sure, if we be still.’—</span> -<span class="i0">‘And, if we stir, you may be sure it will.’—</span> -<span class="i2">“‘Not to such loss your father had agreed.’—</span> -<span class="i0">‘No, for my father’s had been loss indeed.’</span> -<span class="i2">“With gracious smile my mother gave assent, <span class="linenum">450</span></span> -<span class="i0">And let th’ affair slip by with much content.</span> -<span class="i2">“Some old dispute, the lover meant should rise,</span> -<span class="i0">Some point of strife they could not compromise,</span> -<span class="i0">Displeased the squire—he from the field withdrew,</span> -<span class="i0">Not quite conceal’d, not fully placed in view;</span> -<span class="i0">But half advancing, half retreating, kept</span> -<span class="i0">At his old distance, and the business slept.</span> -<span class="i2">“Six years had past, and forty ere the six,</span> -<span class="i0">When Time began to play his usual tricks:</span> -<span class="i0">The locks once comely in a virgin’s sight, <span class="linenum">460</span></span> -<span class="i0">Locks of pure brown, display’d th’ encroaching white;</span> -<span class="i0">The blood once fervid now to cool began,</span> -<span class="i0">And Time’s strong pressure to subdue the man.</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_443" id="Page_443">[Pg 443]</a></span> -<span class="i0">I rode or walk’d as I was wont before,</span> -<span class="i0">But now the bounding spirit was no more;</span> -<span class="i0">A moderate pace would now my body heat,</span> -<span class="i0">A walk of moderate length distress my feet.</span> -<span class="i0">I show’d my stranger-guest those hills sublime,</span> -<span class="i0">But said, ‘the view is poor, we need not climb.’</span> -<span class="i0">At a friend’s mansion I began to dread <span class="linenum">470</span></span> -<span class="i0">The cold neat parlour, and the gay glazed bed;</span> -<span class="i0">At home I felt a more decided taste,</span> -<span class="i0">And must have all things in my order placed;</span> -<span class="i0">I ceased to hunt, my horses pleased me less,</span> -<span class="i0">My dinner more; I learn’d to play at chess;</span> -<span class="i0">I took my dog and gun, but saw the brute</span> -<span class="i0">Was disappointed that I did not shoot;</span> -<span class="i0">My morning walks I now could bear to lose,</span> -<span class="i0">And bless’d the shower that gave me not to choose:</span> -<span class="i0">In fact, I felt a languor stealing on; <span class="linenum">480</span></span> -<span class="i0">The active arm, the agile hand were gone;</span> -<span class="i0">Small daily actions into habits grew,</span> -<span class="i0">And new dislike to forms and fashion new;</span> -<span class="i0">I loved my trees in order to dispose,<span class="ws16">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">I number’d peaches, look’d how stocks arose,<span class="ws8">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Told the same story oft—in short, began to prose.    }</span> -<span class="i2">“My books were changed; I now preferred the truth</span> -<span class="i0">To the light reading of unsettled youth;</span> -<span class="i0">Novels grew tedious, but, by choice or chance,</span> -<span class="i0">I still had interest in the wild romance. <span class="linenum">490</span></span> -<span class="i0">There is an age, we know, when tales of love</span> -<span class="i0">Form the sweet pabulum our hearts approve;</span> -<span class="i0">Then as we read we feel, and are indeed,</span> -<span class="i0">We judge, th’ heroic men of whom we read;</span> -<span class="i0">But in our after life these fancies fail;</span> -<span class="i0">We cannot be the heroes of the tale;</span> -<span class="i0">The parts that Cliffords, Mordaunts, Bevilles play</span> -<span class="i0">We cannot—cannot be so smart and gay.</span> -<span class="i2">“But all the mighty deeds and matchless powers</span> -<span class="i0">Of errant knights we never fancied ours, <span class="linenum">500</span></span> -<span class="i0">And thus the prowess of each gifted knight</span> -<span class="i0">Must at all times create the same delight;</span> -<span class="i0">Lovelace a forward youth might hope to seem,</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_444" id="Page_444">[Pg 444]</a></span> -<span class="i0">But Lancelot never—that he could not dream;</span> -<span class="i0">Nothing reminds us in the magic page</span> -<span class="i0">Of old romance, of our declining age.</span> -<span class="i0">If once our fancy mighty dragons slew,</span> -<span class="i0">This is no more than fancy now can do;</span> -<span class="i0">But when the heroes of a novel come,</span> -<span class="i0">Conquer’d and conquering, to a drawing-room, <span class="linenum">510</span></span> -<span class="i0">We no more feel the vanity that sees</span> -<span class="i0">Within ourselves what we admire in these;</span> -<span class="i0">And so we leave the modern tale, to fly</span> -<span class="i0">From realm to realm with Tristram or Sir Guy.</span> -<span class="i2">“Not quite a Quixote, I could not suppose</span> -<span class="i0">That queens would call me to subdue their foes;</span> -<span class="i0">But, by a voluntary weakness sway’d,</span> -<span class="i0">When fancy call’d, I willingly obey’d.</span> -<span class="i2">“Such I became, and I believed my heart</span> -<span class="i0">Might yet be pierced by some peculiar dart <span class="linenum">520</span></span> -<span class="i0">Of right heroic kind, and I could prove</span> -<span class="i0">Fond of some peerless nymph who deign’d to love,</span> -<span class="i0">Some high-soul’d virgin, who had spent her time</span> -<span class="i0">In studies grave, heroic and sublime;</span> -<span class="i0">Who would not like me less that I had spent</span> -<span class="i0">Years eight and forty, just the age of Kent—</span> -<span class="i0">But not with Kent’s discretion, for I grew</span> -<span class="i0">Fond of a creature whom my fancy drew:</span> -<span class="i0">A kind of beings who are never found</span> -<span class="i0">On middle-earth, but grow on fairy-ground. <span class="linenum">530</span></span> -<span class="i2">“These found I not; but I had luck to find</span> -<span class="i0">A mortal woman of this fairy kind;</span> -<span class="i0">A thin, tall, upright, serious, slender maid,</span> -<span class="i0">Who in my own romantic regions stray’d;</span> -<span class="i0">From the world’s glare to this sweet vale retired,</span> -<span class="i0">To dwell unseen, unsullied, unadmired;</span> -<span class="i0">In all her virgin excellence, above</span> -<span class="i0">The gaze of crowds, and hopes of vulgar love.</span> -<span class="i2">“We spoke of noble deeds in happier times,</span> -<span class="i0">Of glorious virtues, of debasing crimes. <span class="linenum">540</span></span> -<span class="i0">Warm was the season, and the subject too,</span> -<span class="i0">And therefore warm in our discourse we grew.</span> -<span class="i0">Love made such haste, that ere a month was flown</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_445" id="Page_445">[Pg 445]</a></span> -<span class="i0">Since first we met, he had us for his own:</span> -<span class="i0">Riches are trifles in an hero’s sight,</span> -<span class="i0">And lead to questions low and unpolite;</span> -<span class="i0">I nothing said of money or of land,</span> -<span class="i0">But bent my knee, and fondly ask’d her hand;</span> -<span class="i0">And the dear lady, with a grace divine,</span> -<span class="i0">Gave it, and frankly answer’d, ‘it is thine.’ <span class="linenum">550</span></span> -<span class="i2">“Our reading was not to romance confined,</span> -<span class="i0">But still it gave its colour to the mind;</span> -<span class="i0">Gave to our studies something of its force,</span> -<span class="i0">And made profound and tender our discourse;</span> -<span class="i0">Our subjects all, and our religion, took</span> -<span class="i0">The grave and solemn spirit of our book;</span> -<span class="i0">And who had seen us walk, or heard us read,</span> -<span class="i0">Would say, ‘these lovers are sublime indeed.’</span> -<span class="i2">“I knew not why, but when the day was named</span> -<span class="i0">My ardent wishes felt a little tamed; <span class="linenum">560</span></span> -<span class="i0">My mother’s sickness then awaked my grief,</span> -<span class="i0">And yet, to own the truth, was some relief;</span> -<span class="i0">It left uncertain that decisive time</span> -<span class="i0">That made my feelings nervous and sublime.</span> -<span class="i2">“Still all was kindness, and at morn and eve</span> -<span class="i0">I made a visit, talk’d, and took my leave:</span> -<span class="i0">Kind were the lady’s looks, her eyes were bright,</span> -<span class="i0">And swam, I thought, in exquisite delight;</span> -<span class="i0">A lovely red suffused the virgin cheek,</span> -<span class="i0">And spoke more plainly than the tongue could speak; <span class="linenum">570</span></span> -<span class="i0">Plainly all seem’d to promise love and joy,</span> -<span class="i0">Nor fear’d we ought that might our bliss destroy.</span> -<span class="i2">“Engaged by business, I one morn delay’d</span> -<span class="i0">My usual call on the accomplish’d maid;</span> -<span class="i0">But soon, that small impediment removed,</span> -<span class="i0">I paid the visit that decisive proved;</span> -<span class="i0">For the fair lady had, with grieving heart,</span> -<span class="i0">So I believed, retired to sigh apart:</span> -<span class="i0">I saw her friend, and begg’d her to entreat</span> -<span class="i0">My gentle nymph her sighing swain to meet. <span class="linenum">580</span></span> -<span class="i2">“The gossip gone—What dæmon, in his spite<span class="ws4">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">To love and man, could my frail mind excite,<span class="ws6">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">And lead me curious on, against all sense of right? }</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_446" id="Page_446">[Pg 446]</a></span> -<span class="i0">There met my eye, unclosed, a closet’s door—</span> -<span class="i0">Shame! how could I the secrets there explore?</span> -<span class="i0">Pride, honour, friendship, love, condemn’d the deed,</span> -<span class="i0">And yet, in spite of all, I could proceed!</span> -<span class="i0">I went, I saw—Shall I describe the hoard</span> -<span class="i0">Of precious worth in seal’d deposits stored</span> -<span class="i0">Of sparkling hues? Enough—enough is told, <span class="linenum">590</span></span> -<span class="i0">’Tis not for man such mysteries to unfold.</span> -<span class="i0">Thus far I dare—Whene’er those orbits swam</span> -<span class="i0">In that blue liquid that restrain’d their flame,</span> -<span class="i0">As showers the sunbeams—when the crimson glow</span> -<span class="i0">Of the red rose o’erspread those cheeks of snow,</span> -<span class="i0">I saw, but not the cause—’twas not the red</span> -<span class="i0">Of transient blush that o’er her face was spread;</span> -<span class="i0">’Twas not the lighter red, that partly streaks</span> -<span class="i0">The Catherine pear, that brighten’d o’er her cheeks,</span> -<span class="i0">Nor scarlet blush of shame—but such disclose <span class="linenum">600</span></span> -<span class="i0">The velvet petals of the Austrian rose,</span> -<span class="i0">When first unfolded: warm the glowing hue,</span> -<span class="i0">Nor cold as rouge, but deep’ning on the view.</span> -<span class="i0">Such were those cheeks—the causes unexplored</span> -<span class="i0">Were now detected in that secret hoard;</span> -<span class="i0">And ever to that rich recess would turn</span> -<span class="i0">My mind, and cause for such effect discern.</span> -<span class="i0">Such was my fortune, O! my friends, and such</span> -<span class="i0">The end of lofty hopes that grasp’d too much.</span> -<span class="i0">This was, indeed, a trying time in life, <span class="linenum">610</span></span> -<span class="i0">I lost at once a mother and a wife;</span> -<span class="i0">Yet compensation came in time for these,</span> -<span class="i0">And what I lost in joy, I gain’d in ease.”—</span> -<span class="i2">“But,” said the squire, “did thus your courtship cease?</span> -<span class="i0">Resign’d your mistress her betroth’d in peace?”—</span> -<span class="i0">“Yes; and had sense her feelings to restrain,</span> -<span class="i0">Nor ask’d me once my conduct to explain;</span> -<span class="i0">But me she saw those swimming eyes explore,</span> -<span class="i0">And explanation she required no more.</span> -<span class="i0">Friend to the last, I left her with regret— <span class="linenum">620</span></span> -<span class="i0">Nay, leave her not, for we are neighbours yet.</span> -<span class="i2">“These views extinct, I travell’d, not with taste,</span> -<span class="i0">But so that time ran wickedly to waste;</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_447" id="Page_447">[Pg 447]</a></span> -<span class="i0">I penn’d some notes, and might a book have made,</span> -<span class="i0">But I had no connexion with the trade;</span> -<span class="i0">Bridges and churches, towers and halls, I saw,</span> -<span class="i0">Maids and madonnas, and could sketch and draw:</span> -<span class="i0">Yes, I had made a book, but that my pride</span> -<span class="i0">In the not making was more gratified.</span> -<span class="i2">“There was one feeling upon foreign ground, <span class="linenum">630</span></span> -<span class="i0">That more distressing than the rest was found:</span> -<span class="i0">That, though with joy I should my country see,</span> -<span class="i0">There none had pleasure in expecting me.</span> -<span class="i2">“I now was sixty, but could walk and eat;</span> -<span class="i0">My food was pleasant, and my slumbers sweet;</span> -<span class="i0">But what could urge me at a day so late</span> -<span class="i0">To think of women?—my unlucky fate.</span> -<span class="i0">It was not sudden; I had no alarms,</span> -<span class="i0">But was attack’d when resting on my arms;</span> -<span class="i0">Like the poor soldier: when the battle raged <span class="linenum">640</span></span> -<span class="i0">The man escaped, though twice or thrice engaged;</span> -<span class="i0">But, when it ended, in a quiet spot</span> -<span class="i0">He fell, the victim of a random-shot.</span> -<span class="i2">“With my good friend the vicar oft I spent</span> -<span class="i0">The evening hours in quiet, as I meant;</span> -<span class="i0">He was a friend in whom, although untried</span> -<span class="i0">By ought severe, I found I could confide;</span> -<span class="i0">A pleasant, sturdy disputant was he,<span class="ws19">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Who had a daughter—such the Fates decree,<span class="ws12">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">To prove how weak is man—poor yielding man, like me. }</span> -<span class="i2">“Time after time the maid went out and in, <span class="linenum">651</span></span> -<span class="i0">Ere love was yet beginning to begin;</span> -<span class="i0">The first awakening proof, the early doubt,</span> -<span class="i0">Rose from observing she went in and out.</span> -<span class="i0">My friend, though careless, seem’d my mind to explore,</span> -<span class="i0">‘Why do you look so often at the door?’</span> -<span class="i0">I then was cautious, but it did no good,</span> -<span class="i0">For she, at least, my meanings understood;</span> -<span class="i0">But to the vicar nothing she convey’d</span> -<span class="i0">Of what she thought—she did not feel afraid. <span class="linenum">660</span></span> -<span class="i2">“I must confess, this creature in her mind</span> -<span class="i0">Nor face had beauty that a man would blind;</span> -<span class="i0">No poet of her matchless charms would write,</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_448" id="Page_448">[Pg 448]</a></span> -<span class="i0">Yet sober praise they fairly would excite.</span> -<span class="i0">She was a creature form’d man’s heart to make</span> -<span class="i0">Serenely happy, not to pierce and shake;</span> -<span class="i0">If she were tried for breaking human hearts,</span> -<span class="i0">Men would acquit her—she had not the arts.</span> -<span class="i0">Yet without art, at first without design,</span> -<span class="i0">She soon became the arbitress of mine; <span class="linenum">670</span></span> -<span class="i0">Without pretensions—nay, without pretence,</span> -<span class="i0">But by a native strange intelligence</span> -<span class="i0">Women possess when they behold a man</span> -<span class="i0">Whom they can tease, and are assured they can;</span> -<span class="i0">Then ’tis their soul’s delight and pride to reign<span class="ws12">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">O’er the fond slave, to give him ease or pain,<span class="ws13">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">And stretch and loose by turns the weighty viewless chain, }</span> -<span class="i2">“Though much she knew, yet nothing could she prove;</span> -<span class="i0">I had not yet confess’d the crime of love;</span> -<span class="i0">But, in an hour when guardian-angels sleep, <span class="linenum">680</span></span> -<span class="i0">I fail’d the secret of my soul to keep;</span> -<span class="i0">And then I saw the triumph in those eyes</span> -<span class="i0">That spoke—‘Ay, now you are indeed my prize.’</span> -<span class="i0">I almost thought I saw compassion, too,</span> -<span class="i0">For all the cruel things she meant to do.</span> -<span class="i0">Well I can call to mind the managed air</span> -<span class="i0">That gave no comfort, that brought no despair,</span> -<span class="i0">That in a dubious balance held the mind,</span> -<span class="i0">To each side turning, never much inclined.</span> -<span class="i2">“She spoke with kindness—thought the honour high, <span class="linenum">690</span></span> -<span class="i0">And knew not how to give a fit reply;</span> -<span class="i0">She could not, would not, dared not, must not deem</span> -<span class="i0">Such language proof of ought but my esteem;</span> -<span class="i0">It made her proud—she never could forget</span> -<span class="i0">My partial thoughts—she felt her much in debt:</span> -<span class="i0">She who had never in her life indulged</span> -<span class="i0">The thought of hearing what I now divulged:</span> -<span class="i0">I, who had seen so many and so much—</span> -<span class="i0">It was an honour—she would deem it such.</span> -<span class="i0">Our different years, indeed, would put an end<span class="ws8">}</span><span class="linenum">700</span></span> -<span class="i0">To other views, but still her father’s friend<span class="ws10">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">To her, she humbly hoped, would his regard extend.  }</span> -<span class="i0">Thus, saying nothing, all she meant to say,</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_449" id="Page_449">[Pg 449]</a></span> -<span class="i0">She play’d the part the sex delights to play;</span> -<span class="i0">Now by some act of kindness giving scope</span> -<span class="i0">To the new workings of excited hope,</span> -<span class="i0">Then by an air of something like disdain,</span> -<span class="i0">But scarcely seen, repelling it again;</span> -<span class="i0">Then for a season, neither cold nor kind,</span> -<span class="i0">She kept a sort of balance in the mind, <span class="linenum">710</span></span> -<span class="i0">And, as his pole a dancer on the rope,</span> -<span class="i0">The equal poise on both sides kept me up.</span> -<span class="i2">“Is it not strange that man can fairly view</span> -<span class="i0">Pursuit like this, and yet his point pursue;</span> -<span class="i0">While he the folly fairly will confess,</span> -<span class="i0">And even feel the danger of success?</span> -<span class="i0">But so it is, and nought the Circes care</span> -<span class="i0">How ill their victims with their poison fare,</span> -<span class="i0">When thus they trifle, and with quiet soul</span> -<span class="i0">Mix their ingredients in the maddening bowl: <span class="linenum">720</span></span> -<span class="i0">Their high regard, the softness of their air,</span> -<span class="i0">The pitying grief that saddens at a prayer,</span> -<span class="i0">Their grave petitions for the peace of mind</span> -<span class="i0">That they determine you shall never find,</span> -<span class="i0">And all their vain amazement that a man</span> -<span class="i0">Like you should love—they wonder how you can.</span> -<span class="i2">“For months the idler play’d her wicked part,</span> -<span class="i0">Then fairly gave the secret of her heart.</span> -<span class="i0">‘She hoped’—I now the smiling gipsy view—</span> -<span class="i0">‘Her father’s friend would be her lover’s too; <span class="linenum">730</span></span> -<span class="i0">Young Henry Gale’—‘But why delay so long?’—</span> -<span class="i0">‘She could not tell—she fear’d it might be wrong,</span> -<span class="i0">But I was good’—I knew not, I was weak,</span> -<span class="i0">And spoke as love directed me to speak.</span> -<span class="i2">“When in my arms their boy and girl I take,</span> -<span class="i0">I feel a fondness for the mother’s sake;</span> -<span class="i0">But though the dears some softening thoughts excite,</span> -<span class="i0">I have no wishes for the father’s right.</span> -<span class="i2">“Now all is quiet, and the mind sustains</span> -<span class="i0">Its proper comforts, its befitting pains; <span class="linenum">740</span></span> -<span class="i0">The heart reposes; it has had its share<span class="ws14">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Of love, as much as it could fairly bear;<span class="ws12">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">And what is left in life that now demands its care? }</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_450" id="Page_450">[Pg 450]</a></span> -<span class="i2">“For O! my friends, if this were all indeed;</span> -<span class="i0">Could we believe that nothing would succeed;</span> -<span class="i0">If all were but this daily dose of life,</span> -<span class="i0">Without a care or comfort, child or wife;</span> -<span class="i0">These walks for health with nothing more in view;</span> -<span class="i0">This doing nothing, and with labour too;</span> -<span class="i0">This frequent asking when ’tis time to dine; <span class="linenum">750</span></span> -<span class="i0">This daily dosing o’er the news and wine;</span> -<span class="i0">This age’s riddle, when each day appears</span> -<span class="i0">So very long, so very short the years;</span> -<span class="i0">If this were all—but let me not suppose— <span class="ws18">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">What then were life! whose virtues, trials, woes, <span class="ws13">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Would sleep th’ eternal sleep, and there the scene would close. }</span> -<span class="i2">“This cannot be—but why has Time a pace</span> -<span class="i0">That seems unequal in our mortal race?</span> -<span class="i0">Quick is that pace in early life, but slow,</span> -<span class="i0">Tedious and heavy, as we older grow; <span class="linenum">760</span></span> -<span class="i0">But yet, though slow, the movements are alike,</span> -<span class="i0">And with no force upon the memory strike,</span> -<span class="i0">And therefore tedious as we find them all,</span> -<span class="i0">They leave us nothing we in view recal;</span> -<span class="i0">But days that we so dull and heavy knew</span> -<span class="i0">Are now as moments passing in review,</span> -<span class="i0">And hence arises ancient men’s report,</span> -<span class="i0">That days are tedious, and yet years are short.”</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_451" id="Page_451">[Pg 451]</a></span> -</div></div></div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p class="f150"><b>TALES OF THE HALL.</b></p> -<h3>BOOK XI.</h3> -<p class="f110"><i>THE MAID’S STORY.</i></p> -</div> - -<p class="blockquot"> -A Mother’s Advice—Trials for a young Lady—Ancient Lovers—The -Mother a Wife—Grandmamma—Genteel Economy—Frederick, a -young Collegian—Grandmamma dies—Retreat with Biddy—Comforts -of the Poor—Return Home—Death of the Husband—Nervous -Disorders—Conversion—Frederick a Teacher—Retreat to Sidmouth— -Self-examination—The Mother dies—Frederick a Soldier—Retirement -with a Friend—Their Happiness how interrupted—Frederick -an Actor—Is dismissed and supported—A last Adventure. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_452" id="Page_452">[Pg 452]</a></span></p> - -<p class="f150 break space-above2"><b>TALES OF THE HALL.</b></p> -<p class="f120"><b>BOOK XI.</b></p> -<p class="f110"><i>THE MAID’S STORY.</i></p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poem2"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Three days remain’d their friend, and then again</span> -<span class="i0">The Brothers left themselves to entertain;</span> -<span class="i0">When spake the younger—“It would please me well</span> -<span class="i0">To hear thy spinster-friend her story tell;</span> -<span class="i0">And our attention would be nobly paid</span> -<span class="i0">Thus to compare the Bachelor and Maid.”</span> -<span class="i2">“Frank as she is,” replied the squire, “nor one</span> -<span class="i0">Is more disposed to show what she has done</span> -<span class="i0">With time, or time with her: yet all her care</span> -<span class="i0">And every trial she might not declare <span class="linenum">10</span></span> -<span class="i0">To one a stranger; but to me, her friend,</span> -<span class="i0">She has the story of those trials penn’d;</span> -<span class="i0">These shalt thou hear, for well the maid I know,</span> -<span class="i0">And will her efforts and her conquests show.</span> -<span class="i0">Jacques is abroad, and we alone shall dine,</span> -<span class="i0">And then to give this lady’s tale be mine;</span> -<span class="i0">Thou wilt attend to this good spinster’s life,</span> -<span class="i0">And grieve and wonder she is not a wife;</span> -<span class="i0">But if we judge by either words or looks,</span> -<span class="i0">Her mode of life, her morals, or her books, <span class="linenum">20</span></span> -<span class="i0">Her pure devotion, unaffected sense,</span> -<span class="i0">Her placid air, her mild benevolence,</span> -<span class="i0">Her gay good humour, and her manners free,</span> -<span class="i0">She is as happy as a maid can be;</span> -<span class="i0">If as a wife, I know not, and decline</span> -<span class="i0">Question like this, till I can judge of thine.”</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_453" id="Page_453">[Pg 453]</a></span> -<span class="i2">Then from a secret hoard drew forth the squire<span class="ws10">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">His tale, and said, “Attention I require—<span class="ws17">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">My verse you may condemn, my theme you must admire.”  }</span> -</div></div> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i2">I to your kindness speak, let that prevail, <span class="linenum">30</span></span> -<span class="i0">And of my frailty judge as beings frail.——</span> -<span class="i2">My father, dying, to my mother left</span> -<span class="i0">An infant charge, of all things else bereft;</span> -<span class="i0">Poor, but experienced in the world, she knew</span> -<span class="i0">What others did, and judged what she could do;</span> -<span class="i0">Beauty she justly weigh’d, was never blind</span> -<span class="i0">To her own interest, and she read mankind:</span> -<span class="i0">She view’d my person with approving glance,</span> -<span class="i0">And judged the way my fortune to advance;</span> -<span class="i0">Taught me betimes that person to improve, <span class="linenum">40</span></span> -<span class="i0">And make a lawful merchandize of love;</span> -<span class="i0">Bade me my temper in subjection keep,</span> -<span class="i0">And not permit my vigilance to sleep;</span> -<span class="i0">I was not one, a miss, who might presume</span> -<span class="i0">Now to be crazed by mirth, now sunk in gloom;</span> -<span class="i0">Nor to be fretful, vapourish, or give way</span> -<span class="i0">To spleen and anger, as the wealthy may;</span> -<span class="i0">But I must please, and all I felt of pride,</span> -<span class="i0">Contempt, and hatred, I must cast aside.</span> -<span class="i2">“Have not one friend,” my mother cried, “not one; <span class="linenum">50</span></span> -<span class="i0">That bane of our romantic triflers shun;</span> -<span class="i0">Suppose her true, can she afford you aid?</span> -<span class="i0">Suppose her false, your purpose is betray’d;</span> -<span class="i0">And then in dubious points, and matters nice,</span> -<span class="i0">How can you profit by a child’s advice?</span> -<span class="i0">While you are writing on from post to post,</span> -<span class="i0">Your hour is over, and a man is lost;</span> -<span class="i0">Girls of their hearts are scribbling, their desires,</span> -<span class="i0">And what the folly of the heart requires,</span> -<span class="i0">Dupes to their dreams—but I the truth impart, <span class="linenum">60</span></span> -<span class="i0">You cannot, child, afford to have a heart.</span> -<span class="i0">Think nothing of it; to yourself be true,</span> -<span class="i0">And keep life’s first great business in your view—</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_454" id="Page_454">[Pg 454]</a></span> -<span class="i0">Take it, dear Martha, for a useful rule,</span> -<span class="i0">She who is poor is ugly or a fool;</span> -<span class="i0">Or, worse than either, has a bosom fill’d</span> -<span class="i0">With soft emotions, and with raptures thrill’d.</span> -<span class="i2">“Read not too much, nor write in verse or prose,</span> -<span class="i0">For then you make the dull and foolish foes;</span> -<span class="i0">Yet those who do deride not nor condemn, <span class="linenum">70</span></span> -<span class="i0">It is not safe to raise up foes in them;</span> -<span class="i0">For though they harm you not, as blockheads do,</span> -<span class="i0">There is some malice in the scribbling crew.”</span> -<span class="i2">Such her advice; full hard with her had dealt</span> -<span class="i0">The world, and she the usage keenly felt.</span> -<span class="i2">“Keep your good name,” she said, “and that to keep</span> -<span class="i0">You must not suffer vigilance to sleep.</span> -<span class="i0">Some have, perhaps, the name of chaste retain’d,</span> -<span class="i0">When nought of chastity itself remain’d;</span> -<span class="i0">But there is danger—few have means to blind <span class="linenum">80</span></span> -<span class="i0">The keen-eyed world, and none to make it kind.</span> -<span class="i2">“And one thing more—to free yourself from foes</span> -<span class="i0">Never a secret to your friend disclose;</span> -<span class="i0">Secrets with girls, like loaded guns with boys,</span> -<span class="i0">Are never valued till they make a noise;</span> -<span class="i0">To show how trusted, they their power display;</span> -<span class="i0">To show how worthy, they the trust betray;</span> -<span class="i0">Like pence in children’s pockets secrets lie</span> -<span class="i0">In female bosoms—they must burn or fly.</span> -<span class="i2">“Let not your heart be soften’d; if it be, <span class="linenum">90</span></span> -<span class="i0">Let not the man his softening influence see;</span> -<span class="i0">For the most fond will sometimes tyrants prove,</span> -<span class="i0">And wound the bosom where they trace the love.</span> -<span class="i0">But to your fortune look, on that depend<span class="ws12">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">For your life’s comfort; comforts that attend<span class="ws9">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">On wealth alone—wealth gone, they have their end.” }</span> -<span class="i2">Such were my mother’s cares to mend my lot,</span> -<span class="i0">And such her pupil they succeeded not.</span> -<span class="i2">It was conceived the person I had then</span> -<span class="i0">Might lead to serious thoughts some wealthy men, <span class="linenum">100</span></span> -<span class="i0">Who, having none their purpose to oppose,</span> -<span class="i0">Would soon be won their wishes to disclose.</span> -<span class="i0">My mother thought I was the very child</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_455" id="Page_455">[Pg 455]</a></span> -<span class="i0">By whom the old and amorous are beguiled:</span> -<span class="i0">So mildly gay, so ignorantly fair,</span> -<span class="i0">And pure, no doubt, as sleeping infants are;</span> -<span class="i0">Then I had lessons how to look and move,</span> -<span class="i0">And, I repeat, make merchandize of love.</span> -<span class="i2">Thrice it was tried if one so young could bring</span> -<span class="i0">Old wary men to buy the binding ring; <span class="linenum">110</span></span> -<span class="i0">And on the taper finger, to whose tip</span> -<span class="i0">The fond old swain would press his withering lip,</span> -<span class="i0">Place the strong charm:—and one would win my heart</span> -<span class="i0">By re-assuming youth—a trying part;</span> -<span class="i0">Girls, he supposed, all knew the young were bold,</span> -<span class="i0">And he would show that spirit in the old;</span> -<span class="i0">In boys they loved to hear the rattling tongue,</span> -<span class="i0">And he would talk as idly as the young;</span> -<span class="i0">He knew the vices our Lotharios boast,</span> -<span class="i0">And he would show of every vice the ghost, <span class="linenum">120</span></span> -<span class="i0">The evil’s self, without disguise or dress,</span> -<span class="i0">Vice in its own pure native ugliness:</span> -<span class="i0">Not, as the drunkenness of slaves, to prove</span> -<span class="i0">Vice hateful, but that seeing, I might love.</span> -<span class="i0">He drove me out, and I was pleased to see</span> -<span class="i0">Care of himself: it served as care for me;</span> -<span class="i0">For he would tell me, that he should not spare</span> -<span class="i0">Man, horse, or carriage, if I were not there:</span> -<span class="i0">Provoked at last, my malice I obey’d,</span> -<span class="i0">And smiling said, “Sir, I am not afraid.” <span class="linenum">130</span></span> -<span class="i2">This check’d his spirit; but he said, “Could you</span> -<span class="i0">Have charge so rich, you would be careful too.”</span> -<span class="i2">And he, indeed, so very slowly drove,</span> -<span class="i0">That we dismiss’d the over-cautious love.</span> -<span class="i2">My next admirer was of equal age, <span class="ws11">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">And wish’d the child’s affection to engage, <span class="ws6">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">And keep the fluttering bird a victim in his cage. }</span> -<span class="i0">He had no portion of his rival’s glee,</span> -<span class="i0">But gravely praised the gravity in me;</span> -<span class="i0">Religious, moral, both in word and deed, <span class="linenum">140</span></span> -<span class="i0">But warmly disputatious in his creed;</span> -<span class="i0">Wild in his younger time, as we were told,</span> -<span class="i0">And therefore like a penitent when old.</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_456" id="Page_456">[Pg 456]</a></span> -<span class="i0">Strange he should wish a lively girl to look</span> -<span class="i0">Upon the methods his repentance took!</span> -<span class="i2">Then he would say, he was no more a rake</span> -<span class="i0">To squander money for his passions’ sake;</span> -<span class="i0">Yet, upon proper terms, as man discreet,</span> -<span class="i0">He with my mother was disposed to treat,</span> -<span class="i0">To whom he told, “the price of beauty fell <span class="linenum">150</span></span> -<span class="i0">In every market, and but few could sell;</span> -<span class="i0">That trade in India, once alive and brisk,</span> -<span class="i0">Was over done, and scarcely worth the risk.”</span> -<span class="i0">Then stoop’d to speak of board, and what for life</span> -<span class="i0">A wife would cost——if he should take a wife.</span> -<span class="i2">Hardly he bargain’d, and so much desired,</span> -<span class="i0">That we demurr’d; and he, displeased, retired.</span> -<span class="i2">And now I hoped to rest, nor act again</span> -<span class="i0">The paltry part for which I felt disdain,</span> -<span class="i0">When a third lover came within our view, <span class="linenum">160</span></span> -<span class="i0">And somewhat differing from the former two.</span> -<span class="i0">He had been much abroad, and he had seen</span> -<span class="i0">The world’s weak side, and read the hearts of men;</span> -<span class="i0">But all, it seem’d, this study could produce,</span> -<span class="i0">Was food for spleen, derision, and abuse;</span> -<span class="i0">He levell’d all, as one who had intent</span> -<span class="i0">To clear the vile and spot the innocent;</span> -<span class="i0">He praised my sense, and said I ought to be</span> -<span class="i0">From girl’s restraint and nursery maxims free;</span> -<span class="i0">He praised my mother; but he judged her wrong <span class="linenum">170</span></span> -<span class="i0">To keep us from th’ admiring world so long;</span> -<span class="i0">He praised himself; and then his vices named,</span> -<span class="i0">And call’d them follies, and was not ashamed.</span> -<span class="i0">He more than hinted that the lessons taught</span> -<span class="i0">By priests were all with superstition fraught;</span> -<span class="i0">And I must think them for the crowd design’d,</span> -<span class="i0">Not to alarm the free and liberal mind.</span> -<span class="i2">Wisdom with him was virtue. They were wrong</span> -<span class="i0">And weak, he said, who went not with the throng;</span> -<span class="i0">Man must his passions order and restrain <span class="linenum">180</span></span> -<span class="i0">In all that gives his fellow-subjects pain;</span> -<span class="i0">But yet of guilt he would in pity speak,</span> -<span class="i0">And as he judged, the wicked were the weak.</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_457" id="Page_457">[Pg 457]</a></span> -<span class="i2">Such was the lover of a simple maid,</span> -<span class="i0">Who seem’d to call his logic to his aid,</span> -<span class="i0">And to mean something; I will not pretend</span> -<span class="i0">To judge the purpose of my reasoning friend,</span> -<span class="i0">Who was dismiss’d, in quiet to complain</span> -<span class="i0">That so much labour was bestow’d in vain.</span> -<span class="i2">And now my mother seem’d disposed to try <span class="linenum">190</span></span> -<span class="i0">A life of reason and tranquillity.</span> -<span class="i0">Ere this, her health and spirits were the best,</span> -<span class="i0">Hers the day’s trifling, and the nightly rest;</span> -<span class="i0">But something new was in her mind instill’d;</span> -<span class="i0">Unquiet thoughts the matron bosom fill’d;</span> -<span class="i0">For five and forty peaceful years she bore</span> -<span class="i0">Her placid looks, and dress becoming wore:</span> -<span class="i0">She could a compliment with pleasure take,</span> -<span class="i0">But no absurd impression could it make.</span> -<span class="i0">Now were her nerves disorder’d; she was weak, <span class="linenum">200</span></span> -<span class="i0">And must the help of a physician seek:</span> -<span class="i0">A Scotch physician, who had just began</span> -<span class="i0">To settle near us, quite a graceful man,</span> -<span class="i0">And very clever, with a soft address,</span> -<span class="i0">That would his meaning tenderly express.</span> -<span class="i2">Sick as my mother seem’d, when he inquired</span> -<span class="i0">If she was ill, he found her well attired;</span> -<span class="i0">She purchased wares so showy and so fine,</span> -<span class="i0">The venders all believed th’ indulgence mine;—</span> -<span class="i0">But I, who thrice was woo’d, had lovers three, <span class="linenum">210</span></span> -<span class="i0">Must now again a very infant be;</span> -<span class="i0">While the good lady, twenty years a wife,</span> -<span class="i0">Was to decide the colour of his life:</span> -<span class="i0">And she decided. She was wont t’ appear</span> -<span class="i0">To these unequal marriages severe;</span> -<span class="i0">Her thoughts of such with energy she told,</span> -<span class="i0">And was repulsive, dignified, and cold;</span> -<span class="i0">But now, like monarchs weary of a throne,</span> -<span class="i0">She would no longer reign—at least alone.</span> -<span class="i2">She gave her pulse, and, with a manner sweet, <span class="linenum">220</span></span> -<span class="i0">Wish’d him to feel how kindly they could beat;</span> -<span class="i0">And ’tis a thing quite wonderful to tell</span> -<span class="i0">How soon he understood them, and how well.</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_458" id="Page_458">[Pg 458]</a></span> -<span class="i2">Now, when she married, I from home was sent,</span> -<span class="i0">With grandmamma to keep perpetual Lent;</span> -<span class="i0">For she would take me on conditions cheap,</span> -<span class="i0">For what we scarcely could a parrot keep:</span> -<span class="i0">A trifle added to the daily fare</span> -<span class="i0">Would feed a maiden who must learn to spare.</span> -<span class="i2">With grandmamma I lived in perfect ease; <span class="linenum">230</span></span> -<span class="i0">Consent to starve, and I was sure to please.</span> -<span class="i0">Full well I knew the painful shifts we made<span class="ws10">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Expenses all to lessen or evade, <span class="ws19">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">And tradesmen’s flinty hearts to soften and persuade. }</span> -<span class="i2">Poor grandmamma among the gentry dwelt</span> -<span class="i0">Of a small town, and all the honour felt;</span> -<span class="i0">Shrinking from all approaches to disgrace</span> -<span class="i0">That might be mark’d in so genteel a place;</span> -<span class="i0">Where every daily deed, as soon as done,<span class="ws12">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Ran through the town as fast as it could run—<span class="ws8">}</span><span class="linenum">240</span></span> -<span class="i0">At dinners what appear’d—at cards who lost or won.  }</span> -<span class="i2">Our good appearance through the town was known,</span> -<span class="i0">Hunger and thirst were matters of our own;</span> -<span class="i0">And you would judge that she in scandal dealt</span> -<span class="i0">Who told on what we fed, or how we felt.</span> -<span class="i2">We had a little maid, some four feet high,</span> -<span class="i0">Who was employ’d our household stores to buy;</span> -<span class="i0">For she would weary every man in trade,</span> -<span class="i0">And tease t’ assent whom she could not persuade.</span> -<span class="i2">Methinks I see her, with her pigmy light, <span class="linenum">250</span></span> -<span class="i0">Precede her mistress in a moonless night;</span> -<span class="i0">From the small lantern throwing through the street</span> -<span class="i0">The dimm’d effulgence at her lady’s feet;</span> -<span class="i0">What time she went to prove her well-known skill</span> -<span class="i0">With rival friends at their beloved quadrille.</span> -<span class="i2">“And how’s your pain?” inquired the gentle maid,</span> -<span class="i0">For that was asking if with luck she play’d;</span> -<span class="i0">And this she answer’d as the cards decreed,</span> -<span class="i0">“O Biddy! ask not—very bad indeed;”</span> -<span class="i0">Or, in more cheerful tone, from spirit light, <span class="linenum">260</span></span> -<span class="i0">“Why, thank you, Biddy, pretty well to-night.”</span> -<span class="i2">The good old lady often thought me vain,</span> -<span class="i0">And of my dress would tenderly complain;</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_459" id="Page_459">[Pg 459]</a></span> -<span class="i0">But liked my taste in food of every kind,</span> -<span class="i0">As from all grossness, like her own, refined.</span> -<span class="i0">Yet when she hinted that on herbs and bread</span> -<span class="i0">Girls of my age and spirit should be fed,</span> -<span class="i0">Whate’er my age had borne, my flesh and blood,</span> -<span class="i0">Spirit and strength, the interdict withstood;</span> -<span class="i0">But, though I might the frugal soul offend <span class="linenum">270</span></span> -<span class="i0">Of the good matron, now my only friend,</span> -<span class="i0">And though her purse suggested rules so strict,</span> -<span class="i0">Her love could not the punishment inflict;</span> -<span class="i0">She sometimes watch’d the morsel with a frown,</span> -<span class="i0">And sigh’d to see, but let it still go down.</span> -<span class="i2">Our butcher’s bill, to me a monstrous sum,</span> -<span class="i0">Was such that, summon’d, he forbore to come:</span> -<span class="i0">Proud man was he, and when the bill was paid,</span> -<span class="i0">He put the money in his bag and play’d,</span> -<span class="i0">Jerking it up, and catching it again, <span class="linenum">280</span></span> -<span class="i0">And poising in his hand in pure disdain;</span> -<span class="i0">While the good lady, awed by man so proud,</span> -<span class="i0">And yet disposed to have her claims allow’d,</span> -<span class="i0">Balanced between humility and pride,</span> -<span class="i0">Stood a fall’n empress at the butcher’s side,</span> -<span class="i0">Praising his meat as delicate and nice——</span> -<span class="i0">“Yes, madam, yes! if people pay the price.”</span> -<span class="i2">So lived the lady, and so murmur’d I,</span> -<span class="i0">In all the grief of pride and poverty.</span> -<span class="i0">Twice in the year there came a note to tell <span class="linenum">290</span></span> -<span class="i0">How well mamma, who hoped the child was well;</span> -<span class="i0">It was not then a pleasure to be styled,</span> -<span class="i0">By a mamma of such experience, ‘Child!’</span> -<span class="i0">But I suppressed the feelings of my pride,</span> -<span class="i0">Or other feelings set them all aside.</span> -<span class="i2">There was a youth from college, just the one</span> -<span class="i0">I judged mamma would value as a son;</span> -<span class="i0">He was to me good, handsome, learn’d, genteel,</span> -<span class="i0">I cannot now what then I thought reveal;</span> -<span class="i0">But, in a word, he was the very youth <span class="linenum">300</span></span> -<span class="i0">Who told me what I judged the very truth,</span> -<span class="i0">That love like his and charms like mine agreed,</span> -<span class="i0">For all description they must both exceed.</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_460" id="Page_460">[Pg 460]</a></span> -<span class="i0">Yet scarcely can I throw a smile on things</span> -<span class="i0">So painful, but that Time his comfort brings,</span> -<span class="i0">Or rather throws oblivion on the mind,</span> -<span class="i0">For we are more forgetful than resign’d.</span> -<span class="i2">We both were young, had heard of love and read,</span> -<span class="i0">And could see nothing in the thing to dread,</span> -<span class="i0">But like a simple pair our time employ’d <span class="linenum">310</span></span> -<span class="i0">In pleasant views to be in time enjoy’d.</span> -<span class="i0">When Frederick came, the kind old lady smiled</span> -<span class="i0">To see the youth so taken with her child;</span> -<span class="i0">A nice young man, who came with unsoil’d feet</span> -<span class="i0">In her best room, and neither drank nor eat.</span> -<span class="i0">Alas! he planted in a vacant breast</span> -<span class="i0">The hopes and fears that robb’d it of its rest.</span> -<span class="i2">All now appear’d so right, so fair, so just,</span> -<span class="i0">We surely might the lovely prospect trust;</span> -<span class="i0">Alas! poor Frederick and his charmer found <span class="linenum">320</span></span> -<span class="i0">That they were standing on fallacious ground:</span> -<span class="i0">All that the father of the youth could do</span> -<span class="i0">Was done—and now he must himself pursue</span> -<span class="i0">Success in life; and, honest truth to state,</span> -<span class="i0">He was not fitted for a candidate.</span> -<span class="i0">I, too, had nothing in this world below,</span> -<span class="i0">Save what a Scotch physician could bestow,</span> -<span class="i0">Who for a pittance took my mother’s hand;</span> -<span class="i0">And, if disposed, what had they to command?</span> -<span class="i2">But these were after fears, nor came t’ annoy <span class="linenum">330</span></span> -<span class="i0">The tender children in their dreams of joy;</span> -<span class="i0">Who talk’d of glebe and garden, tithe and rent,</span> -<span class="i0">And how a fancied income should be spent;</span> -<span class="i0">What friends, what social parties we should see,</span> -<span class="i0">And live with what genteel economy;</span> -<span class="i0">In fact, we gave our hearts as children give,</span> -<span class="i0">And thought of living as our neighbours live.</span> -<span class="i2">Now, when assured ourselves that all was well,</span> -<span class="i0">’Twas right our friends of these designs to tell;</span> -<span class="i0">For this we parted.—Grandmamma, amazed, <span class="linenum">340</span></span> -<span class="i0">Upon her child with fond compassion gazed;</span> -<span class="i0">Then pious tears appear’d, but not a word</span> -<span class="i0">In aid of weeping till she cried, “Good Lord!”</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_461" id="Page_461">[Pg 461]</a></span> -<span class="i0">She then, with hurried motion, sought the stairs,</span> -<span class="i0">And, calling Biddy, bade her come to prayers.</span> -<span class="i2">Yet the good lady early in her life</span> -<span class="i0">Was call’d to vow the duties of a wife;</span> -<span class="i0">She sought the altar by her friends’ advice,</span> -<span class="i0">No free-will offering, but a sacrifice;</span> -<span class="i0">But here a forward girl and eager boy <span class="linenum">350</span></span> -<span class="i0">Dared talk of life, and turn their heads with joy!</span> -<span class="i2">To my mamma I wrote in just the way</span> -<span class="i0">I felt, and said what dreaming lasses say:</span> -<span class="i0">How handsome Frederick was, by all confess’d,</span> -<span class="i0">How well he look’d, how very well he dress’d;</span> -<span class="i0">With learning much, that would for both provide,</span> -<span class="i0">His mother’s darling, and his father’s pride;</span> -<span class="i0">‘And then he loves me more than mind can guess,</span> -<span class="i0">Than heart conceive, or eloquence express.’</span> -<span class="i2">No letter came a doubtful mind to ease, <span class="linenum">360</span></span> -<span class="i0">And, what was worse, no Frederick came to please;</span> -<span class="i0">To college gone—so thought our little maid—</span> -<span class="i0">But not to see me! I was much afraid;</span> -<span class="i0">I walk’d the garden round, and deeply sigh’d,</span> -<span class="i0">When grandmamma grew faint! and dropt, and died:</span> -<span class="i0">A fate so awful and so sudden drove</span> -<span class="i0">All else away, and half extinguish’d love.</span> -<span class="i2">Strange people came; they search’d the house around,</span> -<span class="i0">And, vulgar wretches! sold whate’er they found:</span> -<span class="i0">The secret hoards that in the drawers were kept, <span class="linenum">370</span></span> -<span class="i0">The silver toys that with the tokens slept,</span> -<span class="i0">The precious beads, the corals with their bells,</span> -<span class="i0">That laid secure, lock’d up in secret cells,</span> -<span class="i0">The costly silk, the tabby, the brocade,</span> -<span class="i0">The very garment for the wedding made,</span> -<span class="i0">Were brought to sale, with many a jest thereon!</span> -<span class="i0">“Going—a bridal dress—for——Going!—Gone.”</span> -<span class="i0">That ring, dear pledge of early love and true,  }</span> -<span class="i0">That to the wedded finger almost grew,<span class="ws8">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Was sold for six and ten-pence to a Jew!<span class="ws7">}</span><span class="linenum">380</span></span> -<span class="i2">Great was the fancied worth; but ah! how small</span> -<span class="i0">The sum thus made, and yet how valued all!</span> -<span class="i0">But all that to the shameful service went</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_462" id="Page_462">[Pg 462]</a></span> -<span class="i0">Just paid the bills, the burial, and the rent;</span> -<span class="i0">And I and Biddy, poor deserted maids!</span> -<span class="i0">Were turn’d adrift to seek for other aids.</span> -<span class="i2">Now left by all the world, as I believed,</span> -<span class="i0">I wonder’d much that I so little grieved;</span> -<span class="i0">Yet I was frighten’d at the painful view</span> -<span class="i0">Of shiftless want, and saw not what to do. <span class="linenum">390</span></span> -<span class="i0">In times like this the poor have little dread,</span> -<span class="i0">They can but work, and they shall then be fed;</span> -<span class="i0">And Biddy cheer’d me with such thoughts as this,</span> -<span class="i0">“You’ll find the poor have their enjoyments, Miss!”</span> -<span class="i0">Indeed I saw, for Biddy took me home</span> -<span class="i0">To a forsaken hovel’s cold and gloom;</span> -<span class="i0">And while my tears in plenteous flow were shed,</span> -<span class="i0">With her own hands she placed her proper bed,</span> -<span class="i0">Reserved for need. A fire was quickly made,</span> -<span class="i0">And food, the purchase for the day, display’d; <span class="linenum">400</span></span> -<span class="i0">She let in air to make the damps retire,</span> -<span class="i0">Then placed her sad companion at her fire;</span> -<span class="i0">She then began her wonted peace to feel,</span> -<span class="i0">She [brought] her wool, and sought her favourite wheel;</span> -<span class="i0">That as she turn’d, she sang with sober glee,</span> -<span class="i0">“Begone, dull Care! I’ll have no more with thee”;</span> -<span class="i0">Then turn’d to me, and bade me weep no more,</span> -<span class="i0">But try and taste the pleasures of the poor.</span> -<span class="i2">When dinner came, on table brown and bare</span> -<span class="i0">Were placed the humblest forms of earthen ware, <span class="linenum">410</span></span> -<span class="i0">With one blue dish, on which our food was placed,</span> -<span class="i0">For appetite provided, not for taste.</span> -<span class="i0">I look’d disgusted, having lately seen</span> -<span class="i0">All so minutely delicate and clean;</span> -<span class="i0">Yet, as I sate, I found to my surprise</span> -<span class="i0">A vulgar kind of inclination rise,</span> -<span class="i0">And near my humble friend, and nearer, drew,</span> -<span class="i0">Tried the strange food, and was partaker too.</span> -<span class="i2">I walk’d at eve, but not where I was seen,</span> -<span class="i0">And thought, with sorrow, what can Frederick mean? <span class="linenum">420</span></span> -<span class="i0">I must not write, I said, for I am poor;</span> -<span class="i0">And then I wept till I could weep no more.</span> -<span class="i2">Kind-hearted Biddy tried my griefs to heal,</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_463" id="Page_463">[Pg 463]</a></span> -<span class="i0">This is a nothing to what others feel;</span> -<span class="i0">Life has a thousand sorrows worse than this,</span> -<span class="i0">A lover lost is not a fortune, Miss!</span> -<span class="i0">One goes, another comes, and which is best</span> -<span class="i0">There is no telling—set your heart at rest.”</span> -<span class="i2">At night we pray’d—I dare not say a word</span> -<span class="i0">Of our devotion, it was so absurd; <span class="linenum">430</span></span> -<span class="i0">And very pious upon Biddy’s part,</span> -<span class="i0">But mine were all effusions of the heart;</span> -<span class="i0">While she her angels call’d their peace to shed,</span> -<span class="i0">And bless the corners of our little bed.</span> -<span class="i0">All was a dream! I said, is this indeed<span class="ws13">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">To be my life? and thus to lodge and feed,<span class="ws9">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">To pay for what I have, and work for what I need?  }</span> -<span class="i0">Must I be poor? and Frederick, if we meet,</span> -<span class="i0">Would not so much as know me in the street?</span> -<span class="i0">Or, as he walk’d with ladies, he would try <span class="linenum">440</span></span> -<span class="i0">To be engaged as we were passing by—</span> -<span class="i0">And then I wept to think that I should grow</span> -<span class="i0">Like them whom he would be ashamed to know.</span> -<span class="i2">On the third day, while striving with my fate,</span> -<span class="i0">And hearing Biddy all its comforts state,</span> -<span class="i0">Talking of all her neighbours, all her schemes,</span> -<span class="i0">Her stories, merry jests, and warning dreams,</span> -<span class="i0">With tales of mirth and murder—O! the nights</span> -<span class="i0">Past, said the maiden, in such dear delights,</span> -<span class="i0">And I was thinking, can the time arrive <span class="linenum">450</span></span> -<span class="i0">When I shall thus be humbled, and survive?—</span> -<span class="i0">Then I beheld a horse and handsome gig,</span> -<span class="i0">With the good air, tall form, and comely wig</span> -<span class="i0">Of Doctor Mackey—I in fear began</span> -<span class="i0">To say, Good heaven, preserve me from the man!</span> -<span class="i0">But fears ill reason—heaven to such a mind</span> -<span class="i0">Had lent a heart compassionate and kind.</span> -<span class="i2">From him I learnt that one had call’d to know</span> -<span class="i0">What with my hand my parents could bestow;</span> -<span class="i0">And when he learn’d the truth, in high disdain <span class="linenum">460</span></span> -<span class="i0">He told my fate, and home return’d again.</span> -<span class="i2">“Nay, be not grieved, my lovely girl; but few</span> -<span class="i0">Wed the first love, however kind and true;</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_464" id="Page_464">[Pg 464]</a></span> -<span class="i0">Something there comes to break the strongest vow,</span> -<span class="i0">Or mine had been my gentle Mattie now.</span> -<span class="i0">When the good lady died—but let me leave</span> -<span class="i0">All gloomy subjects—’tis not good to grieve.”</span> -<span class="i2">Thus the kind Scotchman soothed me; he sustain’d</span> -<span class="i0">A father’s part, and my submission gain’d,</span> -<span class="i0">Then my affection; and he often told <span class="linenum">470</span></span> -<span class="i0">My sterner parent that her heart was cold.</span> -<span class="i0">He grew in honour—he obtain’d a name—</span> -<span class="i0">And now a favourite with the place became;</span> -<span class="i0">To me most gentle, he would condescend</span> -<span class="i0">To read and reason, be the guide and friend;</span> -<span class="i0">He taught me knowledge of the wholesome kind,</span> -<span class="i0">And fill’d with many a useful truth my mind.</span> -<span class="i0">Life’s common burden daily lighter grew;</span> -<span class="i0">And even Frederick lessen’d in my view.</span> -<span class="i0">Cold and repulsive as he once appear’d, <span class="linenum">480</span></span> -<span class="i0">He was by every generous act endear’d;</span> -<span class="i0">And, above all, that he with ardour fill’d</span> -<span class="i0">My soul for truth—a love by him instill’d;</span> -<span class="i0">Till my mamma grew jealous of a maid</span> -<span class="i0">To whom an husband such attention paid:</span> -<span class="i0">Not grossly jealous, but it gave her pain,</span> -<span class="i0">And she observed, “He made her daughter vain;</span> -<span class="i0">And what his help to one who must not look</span> -<span class="i0">To gain her bread by poring on a book?”</span> -<span class="i2">This was distress; but this, and all beside, <span class="linenum">490</span></span> -<span class="i0">Was lost in grief—my kinder parent died;</span> -<span class="i0">When praised and loved, when joy and health he gave,</span> -<span class="i0">He sank lamented to an early grave;</span> -<span class="i0">Then love and we the parent and the child,</span> -<span class="i0">Lost in one grief, allied and reconciled.</span> -<span class="i2">Yet soon a will, that left me half his worth,</span> -<span class="i0">To the same spirit gave a second birth;</span> -<span class="i0">But ’twas a mother’s spleen; and she indeed</span> -<span class="i0">Was sick, and sad, and had of comfort need.</span> -<span class="i0">I watch’d the way her anxious spirit took, <span class="linenum">500</span></span> -<span class="i0">And often found her musing o’er a book;</span> -<span class="i0">She changed her dress, her church, her priest, her prayer,</span> -<span class="i0">Join’d a new sect, and sought her comforts there.</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_465" id="Page_465">[Pg 465]</a></span> -<span class="i0">Some strange, coarse people came, and were so free</span> -<span class="i0">In their addresses, they offended me;</span> -<span class="i0">But my mamma threw all her pride away—</span> -<span class="i0">More humble she as more assuming they.</span> -<span class="i0">“And what,” they said, as having power, “are now</span> -<span class="i0">The inward conflicts? do you strive? and how?”</span> -<span class="i0">Themselves confessing thoughts so new and wild, <span class="linenum">510</span></span> -<span class="i0">I thought them like the visions of a child.</span> -<span class="i0">“Could we,” they ask, “our best good deeds condemn? }</span> -<span class="i0">And did we long to touch the garment’s hem?<span class="ws9">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">And was it so with us? for so it was with them.”<span class="ws7">}</span></span> -<span class="i2">A younger few assumed a softer part,</span> -<span class="i0">And tried to shake the fortress of my heart;</span> -<span class="i0">To this my pliant mother lent her aid,</span> -<span class="i0">And wish’d the winning of her erring maid.</span> -<span class="i0">I was constrain’d her female friends to hear;</span> -<span class="i0">But suffer’d not a bearded convert near; <span class="linenum">520</span></span> -<span class="i0">Though more than one attempted, with their whine.</span> -<span class="i0">And “Sister! sister! how that heart of thine?”</span> -<span class="i0">But this was freedom I for ever check’d:</span> -<span class="i0">Mine was a heart no brother could affect.</span> -<span class="i2">But, “would I hear the preacher, and receive</span> -<span class="i0">The dropping dew of his discourse at eve?</span> -<span class="i0">The soft, sweet words?” I gave two precious hours</span> -<span class="i0">To hear of gifts and graces, helps and powers;</span> -<span class="i0">When a pale youth, who should dismiss the flock,</span> -<span class="i0">Gave to my bosom an electric shock. <span class="linenum">530</span></span> -<span class="i0">While in that act, he look’d upon my face</span> -<span class="i0">As one in that all-equalizing place;</span> -<span class="i0">Nor, though he sought me, would he lay aside</span> -<span class="i0">Their cold, dead freedom, or their dull, sad pride.</span> -<span class="i2">Of his conversion he with triumph spoke,</span> -<span class="i0">Before he orders from a bishop took;</span> -<span class="i0">Then how his father’s anger he had braved,</span> -<span class="i0">And, safe himself, his erring neighbours saved.</span> -<span class="i0">Me he rejoiced a sister to behold</span> -<span class="i0">Among the members of his favourite fold; <span class="linenum">540</span></span> -<span class="i0">He had not sought me; the availing call</span> -<span class="i0">Demanded all his love, and had it all;</span> -<span class="i0">But, now thus met, it must be heaven’s design.—</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_466" id="Page_466">[Pg 466]</a></span> -<span class="i0">Indeed! I thought; it never shall be mine!—</span> -<span class="i0">Yes, we must wed. He was not rich: and I</span> -<span class="i0">Had of the earthly good a mean supply;</span> -<span class="i0">But it sufficed. Of his conversion then</span> -<span class="i0">He told, and labours in converting men;</span> -<span class="i0">For he was chosen all their bands among—</span> -<span class="i0">Another Daniel! honour’d, though so young. <span class="linenum">550</span></span> -<span class="i2">He call’d me sister; show’d me that he knew</span> -<span class="i0">What I possess’d; and told what it would do;</span> -<span class="i0">My looks, I judge, express’d my full disdain; <span class="ws14">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">But it was given to the man in vain:<span class="ws22">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">They preach till they are proud, and pride disturbs the brain.  }</span> -<span class="i2">Is this the youth once timid, mild, polite?</span> -<span class="i0">How odious now, and sick’ning to the sight!</span> -<span class="i0">Proud that he sees, and yet so truly blind,</span> -<span class="i0">With all this blight and mildew on the mind!</span> -<span class="i2">Amazed, the solemn creature heard me vow <span class="linenum">560</span></span> -<span class="i0">That I was not disposed to take him now.</span> -<span class="i2">“Then, art thou changed, fair maiden? changed thy heart?”</span> -<span class="i0">I answered, “No; but I perceive thou art.”</span> -<span class="i2">Still was my mother sad, her nerves relax’d,</span> -<span class="i0">And our small income for advice was tax’d;</span> -<span class="i0">When I, who long’d for change and freedom, cried,</span> -<span class="i0">‘Let sea and Sidmouth’s balmy air be tried.’</span> -<span class="i0">And so they were, and every neighbouring scene,</span> -<span class="i0">That make the bosom, like the clime, serene;</span> -<span class="i0">Yet were her teachers loth to yield assent; <span class="linenum">570</span></span> -<span class="i0">And not without the warning voice we went;</span> -<span class="i0">And there was secret counsel all unknown</span> -<span class="i0">To me—but I had counsel of my own.</span> -<span class="i2">And now there pass’d a portion of my time</span> -<span class="i0">In ease delicious, and in joy sublime—</span> -<span class="i0">With friends endear’d by kindness—with delight</span> -<span class="i0">In all that could the feeling mind excite,</span> -<span class="i0">Or please, excited; walks in every place</span> -<span class="i0">Where we could pleasure find and beauty trace,</span> -<span class="i0">Or views at night, where on the rocky steep <span class="linenum">580</span></span> -<span class="i0">Shines the full moon, or glitters on the deep.</span> -<span class="i2">Yes, they were happy days; but they are fled!</span> -<span class="i0">All now are parted—part are with the dead!</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_467" id="Page_467">[Pg 467]</a></span> -<span class="i0">Still it is pleasure, though ’tis mix’d with pain,</span> -<span class="i0">To think of joys that cannot live again—</span> -<span class="i0">Here cannot live; but they excite desire</span> -<span class="i0">Of purer kind, and heavenly thoughts inspire!</span> -<span class="i2">And now my mother, weaken’d in her mind,</span> -<span class="i0">Her will, subdued before, to me resign’d.</span> -<span class="i0">Wean’d from her late directors, by degrees <span class="linenum">590</span></span> -<span class="i0">She sank resign’d, and only sought for ease.</span> -<span class="i0">In a small town upon the coast we fix’d,</span> -<span class="i0">Nor in amusement with associates mix’d.</span> -<span class="i0">My years—but other mode will I pursue,</span> -<span class="i0">And count my time by what I sought to do.</span> -<span class="i2">And was that mind at ease? could I avow</span> -<span class="i0">That no once leading thoughts engaged me now?</span> -<span class="i0">Was I convinced th’ enthusiastic man</span> -<span class="i0">Had ruin’d what the loving boy began?</span> -<span class="i2">I answer doubting—I could still detect <span class="linenum">600</span></span> -<span class="i0">Feelings too soft—yet him I could reject:</span> -<span class="i0">Feelings that came when I had least employ—</span> -<span class="i0">When common pleasures I could least enjoy—</span> -<span class="i0">When I was pacing lonely in the rays</span> -<span class="i0">Of a full moon, in lonely walks and ways—</span> -<span class="i0">When I was sighing o’er a tale’s distress,</span> -<span class="i0">And paid attention to my Bible less.</span> -<span class="i2">These found, I sought my remedies for these;</span> -<span class="i0">I suffer’d common things my mind to please,</span> -<span class="i0">And common pleasures; seldom walk’d alone, <span class="linenum">610</span></span> -<span class="i0">Nor when the moon upon the waters shone;</span> -<span class="i0">But then my candles lit, my window closed,</span> -<span class="i0">My needle took, and with my neighbours prosed;</span> -<span class="i0">And in one year—nay, ere the end of one,</span> -<span class="i0">My labour ended, and my love was done.</span> -<span class="i0">My heart at rest, I boldly look’d within,</span> -<span class="i0">And dared to ask it of its secret sin;</span> -<span class="i0">Alas! with pride it answer’d, “Look around,</span> -<span class="i0">And tell me where a better heart is found.”</span> -<span class="i0">And then I traced my virtues; O! how few, <span class="linenum">620</span></span> -<span class="i0">In fact, they were, and yet how vain I grew;</span> -<span class="i0">Thought of my kindness, condescension, ease,</span> -<span class="i0">My will, my wishes, nay, my power to please;</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_468" id="Page_468">[Pg 468]</a></span> -<span class="i0">I judged me prudent, rational, discreet,</span> -<span class="i0">And void of folly, falsehood and deceit;</span> -<span class="i0">I read, not lightly, as I some had known,</span> -<span class="i0">But made an author’s meaning all my own;</span> -<span class="i0">In short, what lady could a poet choose</span> -<span class="i0">As a superior subject for his muse?</span> -<span class="i2">So said my heart; and Conscience straight replied— }</span> -<span class="i0">“I say the matter is not fairly tried:<span class="ws18">}</span><span class="linenum">631</span></span> -<span class="i0">I am offended, hurt, dissatisfied.<span class="ws20">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">First of the Christian graces, let me see</span> -<span class="i0">What thy pretensions to humility?</span> -<span class="i0">Art thou prepared for trial? Wilt thou say</span> -<span class="i0">‘I am this being,’ and for judgment pray?</span> -<span class="i0">And, with the gallant Frenchman, wilt thou cry,</span> -<span class="i0">When to thy judge presented, ‘thus am I—</span> -<span class="i0">Thus was I formed—these talents I possess’d—</span> -<span class="i0">So I employed them—and thou know’st the rest?’” <span class="linenum">640</span></span> -<span class="i2">Thus Conscience; and she then a picture drew,</span> -<span class="i0">And bade me think and tremble at the view.</span> -<span class="i0">One I beheld—a wife, a mother—go</span> -<span class="i0">To gloomy scenes of wickedness and wo;</span> -<span class="i0">She sought her way through all things vile and base,</span> -<span class="i0">And made a prison a religious place;</span> -<span class="i0">Fighting her way—the way that angels fight</span> -<span class="i0">With powers of darkness—to let in the light.</span> -<span class="i0">Tell me, my heart, hast thou such victory won</span> -<span class="i0">As this, a sinner of thy sex, has done, <span class="linenum">650</span></span> -<span class="i0">And calls herself a sinner? What art thou?</span> -<span class="i0">And where thy praise and exaltation now?</span> -<span class="i0">Yet is she tender, delicate, and nice,</span> -<span class="i0">And shrinks from all depravity and vice;</span> -<span class="i0">Shrinks from the ruffian gaze, the savage gloom,</span> -<span class="i0">That reign where guilt and misery find an home—</span> -<span class="i0">Guilt chain’d, and misery purchased; and with them</span> -<span class="i0">All we abhor, abominate, condemn—</span> -<span class="i0">The look of scorn, the scowl, th’ insulting leer</span> -<span class="i0">Of shame, all fix’d on her who ventures here. <span class="linenum">660</span></span> -<span class="i0">Yet all she braved! she kept her stedfast eye</span> -<span class="i0">On the dear cause, and brush’d the baseness by.</span> -<span class="i0">So would a mother press her darling child</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_469" id="Page_469">[Pg 469]</a></span> -<span class="i0">Close to her breast, with tainted rags defiled.</span> -<span class="i2">But thou hast talents truly! say, the ten:</span> -<span class="i0">Come, let us look at their improvement then.</span> -<span class="i0">What hast thou done to aid thy suffering kind,</span> -<span class="i0">To help the sick, the deaf, the lame, the blind?</span> -<span class="i0">Hast thou not spent thy intellectual force</span> -<span class="i0">On books abstruse, in critical discourse? <span class="linenum">670</span></span> -<span class="i0">Wasting in useless energy thy days,</span> -<span class="i0">And idly listening to their common praise,</span> -<span class="i0">Who can a kind of transient fame dispense,</span> -<span class="i0">And say—“a woman of exceeding sense.”</span> -<span class="i2">Thus tried, and failing, the suggestions fled,</span> -<span class="i0">And a corrected spirit reign’d instead.</span> -<span class="i2">My mother yet was living; but the flame</span> -<span class="i0">Of life now flash’d, and fainter then became;</span> -<span class="i0">I made it pleasant, and was pleased to see</span> -<span class="i0">A parent looking as a child to me. <span class="linenum">680</span></span> -<span class="i2">And now our humble place grew wond’rous gay;<span class="ws5">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Came gallant persons in their red array: <span class="ws14">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">All strangers welcome there, extremely welcome they.  }</span> -<span class="i2">When in the church I saw inquiring eyes</span> -<span class="i0">Fix’d on my face with pleasure and surprise;</span> -<span class="i0">And soon a knocking at my door was heard;</span> -<span class="i0">And soon the lover of my youth appear’d—</span> -<span class="i0">Frederick, in all his glory, glad to meet,</span> -<span class="i0">And say, “his happiness was now complete.”</span> -<span class="i2">He told his flight from superstitious zeal; <span class="linenum">690</span></span> -<span class="i0">But first what torments he was doom’d to feel:</span> -<span class="i0">The tender tears he saw from women fall—</span> -<span class="i0">The strong persuasions of the brethren all—</span> -<span class="i0">The threats of crazed enthusiasts, bound to keep</span> -<span class="i0">The struggling mind, and awe the straying sheep—</span> -<span class="i0">From these, their love, their curses, and their creed,</span> -<span class="i0">Was I by reason and exertion freed.</span> -<span class="i2">Then, like a man who often had been told</span> -<span class="i0">And was convinced success attends the bold,</span> -<span class="i0">His former purpose he renew’d, and swore <span class="linenum">700</span></span> -<span class="i0">He never loved me half so well before:</span> -<span class="i0">Before he felt a something to divide</span> -<span class="i0">The heart, that now had not a love beside.</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_470" id="Page_470">[Pg 470]</a></span> -<span class="i2">In earlier times had I myself amused,</span> -<span class="i0">And first my swain perplex’d, and then refused—</span> -<span class="i0">Cure for conceit; but now in purpose grave,</span> -<span class="i0">Strong and decisive the reply I gave.</span> -<span class="i0">Still he would come, and talk as idlers do,</span> -<span class="i0">Both of his old associates and his new;</span> -<span class="i0">Those who their dreams and reveries receive <span class="linenum">710</span></span> -<span class="i0">For facts, and those who would not facts believe.</span> -<span class="i2">He now conceived that truth was hidden, placed</span> -<span class="i0">He knew not where, she never could be traced;</span> -<span class="i0">But that in every place, the world around,</span> -<span class="i0">Might some resemblance of the nymph be found.</span> -<span class="i0">Yet wise men knew these shadows to be vain,</span> -<span class="i0">Such as our true philosophers disdain—</span> -<span class="i0">“They laugh to see what vulgar minds pursue— <span class="ws7">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Truth, as a mistress, never in their view—<span class="ws12">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">But there the shadow flies, and that, they cry, is true.”  }</span> -<span class="i2">Thus, at the college and the meeting train’d, <span class="linenum">721</span></span> -<span class="i0">My lover seem’d his acmè to have gain’d;</span> -<span class="i0">With some compassion I essay’d a cure:</span> -<span class="i0">“If truth be hidden, why art thou so sure?”</span> -<span class="i0">This he mistook for tenderness, and cried,</span> -<span class="i0">“If sure of thee, I care not what beside!”</span> -<span class="i0">Compelled to silence, I, in pure disdain,</span> -<span class="i0">Withdrew from one so insolent and vain;</span> -<span class="i0">He then retired; and, I was kindly told,</span> -<span class="i0">In pure compassion grew estranged and cold. <span class="linenum">730</span></span> -<span class="i2">My mother died; but, in my grief, drew near</span> -<span class="i0">A bosom friend, who dried the useless tear;</span> -<span class="i0">We lived together: we combined our shares</span> -<span class="i0">Of the world’s good, and learn’d to brave its cares.</span> -<span class="i0">We were the ladies of the place, and found</span> -<span class="i0">Protection and respect the country round;</span> -<span class="i0">We gave, and largely, for we wish’d to live</span> -<span class="i0">In good repute—for this ’tis good to give;</span> -<span class="i0">Our annual present to the priest convey’d</span> -<span class="i0">Was kindly taken—we in comfort pray’d. <span class="linenum">740</span></span> -<span class="i0">There none molested in the crimson pew</span> -<span class="i0">The worthy ladies, whom the vicar knew;</span> -<span class="i0">And we began to think that life might be—</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_471" id="Page_471">[Pg 471]</a></span> -<span class="i0">Not happy all, but innocently free.</span> -<span class="i2">My friend in early life was bound to one</span> -<span class="i0">Of gentle kindred, but a younger son.</span> -<span class="i0">He fortune’s smile with perseverance woo’d,</span> -<span class="i0">And wealth beneath the burning sun pursued.</span> -<span class="i0">There, urged by love and youthful hope, he went,</span> -<span class="i0">Loth; but ’twas all his fortune could present. <span class="linenum">750</span></span> -<span class="i0">From hence he wrote; and, with a lover’s fears,</span> -<span class="i0">And gloomy fondness, talk’d of future years;</span> -<span class="i0">To her devoted, his Priscilla found</span> -<span class="i0">His faithful heart still suffering with its wound,</span> -<span class="i0">That would not heal. A second time she heard;</span> -<span class="i0">And then no more; nor lover since appear’d.</span> -<span class="i0">Year after year the country’s fleet arrived,</span> -<span class="i0">Confirm’d her fear, and yet her love survived;</span> -<span class="i0">It still was living; yet her hope was dead,</span> -<span class="i0">And youthful dreams, nay, youth itself, was fled; <span class="linenum">760</span></span> -<span class="i0">And he was lost: so urged her friends, so she</span> -<span class="i0">At length believed, and thus retired with me.</span> -<span class="i0">She would a dedicated vestal prove,</span> -<span class="i0">And give her virgin vows to heaven and love;</span> -<span class="i0">She dwelt with fond regret on pleasures past,</span> -<span class="i0">With ardent hope on those that ever last;</span> -<span class="i0">Pious and tender, every day she view’d</span> -<span class="i0">With solemn joy our perfect solitude;</span> -<span class="i0">Her reading, that which most delighted her,</span> -<span class="i0">That soothed the passions, yet would gently stir; <span class="linenum">770</span></span> -<span class="i0">The tender, softening, melancholy strain,<span class="ws12">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">That caused not pleasure, but that vanquished pain,<span class="ws4">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">In tears she read, and wept, and long’d to read again.  }</span> -<span class="i0">But other worlds were her supreme delight,</span> -<span class="i0">And there, it seem’d, she long’d to take her flight;</span> -<span class="i0">Yet patient, pensive, arm’d by thoughts sublime,</span> -<span class="i0">She watch’d the tardy steps of lingering time.</span> -<span class="i2">My friend, with face that most would handsome call,</span> -<span class="i0">Possess’d the charm that wins the heart of all;</span> -<span class="i0">And, thrice entreated by a lover’s prayer, <span class="linenum">780</span></span> -<span class="i0">She thrice refused him with determined air.</span> -<span class="i2">“No! had the world one monarch, and was he</span> -<span class="i0">All that the heart could wish its lord to be—</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_472" id="Page_472">[Pg 472]</a></span> -<span class="i0">Lovely and loving, generous, brave, and true—</span> -<span class="i0">Vain were his hopes to waken hers anew!”</span> -<span class="i0">For she was wedded to ideal views,</span> -<span class="i0">And fancy’s prospects, that she would not lose,</span> -<span class="i0">Would not forego to be a mortal’s wife,</span> -<span class="i0">And wed the poor realities of life.</span> -<span class="i2">There was a day, ere yet the autumn closed, <span class="linenum">790</span></span> -<span class="i0">When, ere her wintry wars, the earth reposed;</span> -<span class="i0">When from the yellow weed the feathery crown,</span> -<span class="i0">Light as the curling smoke, fell slowly down;</span> -<span class="i0">When the wing’d insect settled in our sight,</span> -<span class="i0">And waited wind to recommence her flight;</span> -<span class="i0">When the wide river was a silver sheet,</span> -<span class="i0">And on the ocean slept th’ unanchor’d fleet;</span> -<span class="i0">When from our garden, as we look’d above,</span> -<span class="i0">There was no cloud, and nothing seem’d to move;</span> -<span class="i0">Then was my friend in ecstasies—she cried, <span class="linenum">800</span></span> -<span class="i0">“There is, I feel there is, a world beside!</span> -<span class="i0">Martha, dear Martha! we shall hear not then</span> -<span class="i0">Of hearts distress’d by good or evil men,</span> -<span class="i0">But all will constant, tender, faithful be—</span> -<span class="i0">So had I been, and so had one with me;</span> -<span class="i0">But in this world the fondest and the best</span> -<span class="i0">Are the most tried, most troubled, and distress’d:</span> -<span class="i0">This is the place for trial, here we prove,</span> -<span class="i0">And there enjoy, the faithfulness of love.</span> -<span class="i2">“Nay, were he here in all the pride of youth, <span class="linenum">810</span></span> -<span class="i0">With honour, valour, tenderness, and truth,</span> -<span class="i0">Entirely mine, yet what could I secure,</span> -<span class="i0">Or who one day of comfort could insure?</span> -<span class="i2">“No! all is closed on earth, and there is now</span> -<span class="i0">Nothing to break th’ indissoluble vow;</span> -<span class="i0">But in that world will be th’ abiding bliss,</span> -<span class="i0">That pays for every tear and sigh in this.”</span> -<span class="i2">Such her discourse, and more refined it grew,</span> -<span class="i0">Till she had all her glorious dream in view;</span> -<span class="i0">And she would further in that dream proceed <span class="linenum">820</span></span> -<span class="i0">Than I dare go, who doubtfully agreed.</span> -<span class="i0">Smiling I ask’d, again to draw the soul</span> -<span class="i0">From flight so high, and fancy to control,</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_473" id="Page_473">[Pg 473]</a></span> -<span class="i0">“If this be truth, the lover’s happier way</span> -<span class="i0">Is distant still to keep the purposed day;</span> -<span class="i0">The real bliss would mar the fancied joy,</span> -<span class="i0">And marriage all the dream of love destroy.”</span> -<span class="i2">She softly smiled, and, as we gravely talk’d,</span> -<span class="i0">We saw a man who up the gravel walk’d—</span> -<span class="i0">Not quite erect, nor quite by age depress’d; <span class="linenum">830</span></span> -<span class="i0">A travell’d man, and as a merchant dress’d.</span> -<span class="i0">Large chain of gold upon his watch he wore,</span> -<span class="i0">Small golden buckles on his feet he bore;</span> -<span class="i0">A head of gold his costly cane display’d,</span> -<span class="i0">And all about him love of gold betray’d.</span> -<span class="i2">This comely man moved onward, and a pair</span> -<span class="i0">Of comely maidens met with serious air;</span> -<span class="i0">Till one exclaim’d, and wildly look’d around,</span> -<span class="i0">“O heav’n, ’tis Paul!” and dropt upon the ground;</span> -<span class="i0">But she recover’d soon, and you must guess <span class="linenum">840</span></span> -<span class="i0">What then ensued, and how much happiness.</span> -<span class="i0">They parted lovers, both distress’d to part;</span> -<span class="i0">They met as neighbours, heal’d, and whole of heart.</span> -<span class="i0">She in his absence look’d to heaven for bliss;</span> -<span class="i0">He was contented with a world like this:</span> -<span class="i0">And she prepared in some new state to meet</span> -<span class="i0">The man now seeking for some snug retreat.</span> -<span class="i0">He kindly told her he was firm and true,</span> -<span class="i0">Nor doubted her, and bade her then adieu!</span> -<span class="i2">“What shall I do?” the sighing maid began, <span class="linenum">850</span></span> -<span class="i0">“How lost the lover! O, how gross the man!”</span> -<span class="i2">For the plain dealer had his wish declared,</span> -<span class="i0">Nor she, devoted victim! could be spared.</span> -<span class="i0">He spoke as one decided; she as one</span> -<span class="i0">Who fear’d the love, and would the lover shun.</span> -<span class="i2">“O Martha, sister of my soul! how dies</span> -<span class="i0">Each lovely view! for can I truth disguise,</span> -<span class="i0">That this is he? No! nothing shall persuade:</span> -<span class="i0">This is a man the naughty world has made,</span> -<span class="i0">An eating, drinking, buying, bargaining man— <span class="linenum">860</span></span> -<span class="i0">And can I love him? No! I never can.</span> -<span class="i0">What once he was, what fancy gave beside,</span> -<span class="i0">Full well I know, my love was then my pride;</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_474" id="Page_474">[Pg 474]</a></span> -<span class="i0">What time has done, what trade and travel wrought,</span> -<span class="i0">You see! and yet your sorrowing friend is sought;</span> -<span class="i0">But can I take him?”—“Take him not,” I cried,</span> -<span class="i0">“If so averse—but why so soon decide?”</span> -<span class="i2">Meantime a daily guest the man appear’d,</span> -<span class="i0">Set all his sail, and for his purpose steer’d;</span> -<span class="i0">Loud and familiar, loving, fierce and free, <span class="linenum">870</span></span> -<span class="i0">He overpower’d her soft timidity:</span> -<span class="i0">Who, weak and vain, and grateful to behold</span> -<span class="i0">The man was hers, and hers would be the gold—</span> -<span class="i0">Thus sundry motives, more than I can name,</span> -<span class="i0">Leagued on his part, and she a wife became.</span> -<span class="i2">A home was offer’d, but I knew too well</span> -<span class="i0">What comfort was with married friends to dwell;</span> -<span class="i0">I was resign’d, and had I felt distress,</span> -<span class="i0">Again a lover offer’d some redress.</span> -<span class="i0">Behold, a hero of the buskin hears <span class="linenum">880</span></span> -<span class="i0">My loss, and with consoling love appears.</span> -<span class="i0">Frederick was now a hero on the stage,</span> -<span class="i0">In all its glories, rhapsody, and rage;</span> -<span class="i0">Again himself he offer’d, offer’d all</span> -<span class="i0">That his an hero of the kind can call:</span> -<span class="i0">He for my sake would hope of fame resign,</span> -<span class="i0">And leave the applause of all the world for mine.</span> -<span class="i0">Hard fate was Frederick’s never to succeed,</span> -<span class="i0">Yet ever try—but so it was decreed.</span> -<span class="i0">His mind was weakened; he would laugh and weep, <span class="linenum">890</span></span> -<span class="i0">And swore profusely I had murder’d sleep,</span> -<span class="i0">Had quite unmann’d him, cleft his heart in twain,</span> -<span class="i0">And he should never be himself again.</span> -<span class="i2">He <i>was</i> himself: weak, nervous, kind, and poor,</span> -<span class="i0">Ill dress’d and idle, he besieged my door;</span> -<span class="i0">Borrow’d,—or, worse; made verses on my charms,</span> -<span class="i0">And did his best to fill me with alarms.</span> -<span class="i0">I had some pity, and I sought the price</span> -<span class="i0">Of my repose—my hero was not nice:</span> -<span class="i0">There was a loan, and promise I should be<span class="ws7">}</span><span class="linenum">900</span></span> -<span class="i0">From all the efforts of his fondness free, <span class="ws8">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">From hunger’s future claims, or those of vanity.  }</span> -<span class="i0">“Yet,” said he, bowing, “do to study take!</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_475" id="Page_475">[Pg 475]</a></span> -<span class="i0">O! what a Desdemona wouldst thou make!”</span> -<span class="i0">Thus was my lover lost; yet even now</span> -<span class="i0">He claims one thought, and this we will allow.</span> -<span class="i2">His father lived to an extreme old age,</span> -<span class="i0">But never kind!—his son had left the stage,</span> -<span class="i0">And gain’d some office, but an humble place,</span> -<span class="i0">And that he lost! Want sharpen’d his disgrace, <span class="linenum">910</span></span> -<span class="i0">Urged him to seek his father—but too late:</span> -<span class="i0">His jealous brothers watch’d and barr’d the gate.</span> -<span class="i2">The old man died; but there is one who pays</span> -<span class="i0">A moderate pension for his latter days;</span> -<span class="i0">Who, though assured inquiries will offend,</span> -<span class="i0">Is ever asking for this unknown friend:</span> -<span class="i0">Some partial lady, whom he hopes to find</span> -<span class="i0">As to his wants so to his wishes kind.</span> -<span class="i2">“Be still,” a cool adviser sometimes writes—</span> -<span class="i0">“Nay, but,” says he, “the gentle maid invites— <span class="linenum">920</span></span> -<span class="i0">Do, let me know the young! the soft! the fair!”</span> -<span class="i2">“Old man,” ’tis answer’d, “take thyself to prayer!</span> -<span class="i0">Be clean, be sober, to thy priest apply,</span> -<span class="i0">And—dead to all around thee—learn to die!”</span> -<span class="i2">Now had I rest from life’s strong hopes and fears,</span> -<span class="i0">And no disturbance mark’d the flying years;</span> -<span class="i0">So on in quiet might those years have past,</span> -<span class="i0">But for a light adventure, and a last.</span> -<span class="i2">A handsome boy, from school-day bondage free,</span> -<span class="i0">Came with mamma to gaze upon the sea; <span class="linenum">930</span></span> -<span class="i0">With soft blue eye he look’d upon the waves,</span> -<span class="i0">And talk’d of treacherous rocks, and seamen’s graves.</span> -<span class="i0">There was much sweetness in his boyish smile,</span> -<span class="i0">And signs of feelings frank, that knew not guile.</span> -<span class="i2">The partial mother, of her darling proud,</span> -<span class="i0">Besought my friendship, and her own avow’d;</span> -<span class="i0">She praised her Rupert’s person, spirit, ease,</span> -<span class="i0">How fond of study, yet how form’d to please.</span> -<span class="i0">In our discourse he often bore a part,</span> -<span class="i0">And talk’d, heaven bless him, of his feeling heart; <span class="linenum">940</span></span> -<span class="i0">He spoke of pleasures souls like his enjoy,</span> -<span class="i0">And hated Lovelace like a virtuous boy;</span> -<span class="i0">He felt for Clementina’s holy strife,</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_476" id="Page_476">[Pg 476]</a></span> -<span class="i0">And was Sir Charles as large and true as life;</span> -<span class="i0">For Virtue’s heroines was his soul distress’d;</span> -<span class="i0">True love and guileless honour fill’d his breast,</span> -<span class="i0">When, as the subjects drew the frequent sigh, <span class="ws9">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">The tear stood trembling in his large blue eye, <span class="ws9">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">And softly he exclaim’d, “Sweet, sweetest sympathy!”  }</span> -<span class="i2">When thus I heard the handsome stripling speak, <span class="linenum">950</span></span> -<span class="i0">I smiled assent, and thought to pat his cheek;</span> -<span class="i0">But when I saw the feelings blushing there,</span> -<span class="i0">Signs of emotions strong, they said—forbear!</span> -<span class="i2">The youth would speak of his intent to live</span> -<span class="i0">On that estate which heaven was pleased to give—</span> -<span class="i0">There with the partner of his joys to dwell,</span> -<span class="i0">And nurse the virtues that he loved so well;</span> -<span class="i0">The humble good of happy swains to share,</span> -<span class="i0">And from the cottage drive distress and care;</span> -<span class="i0">To the dear infants make some pleasures known, <span class="linenum">960</span></span> -<span class="i0">And teach, he gravely said, the virtues to his own.</span> -<span class="i2">He loved to read in verse, and verse-like prose,</span> -<span class="i0">The softest tales of love-inflicted woes;</span> -<span class="i0">When, looking fondly, he would smile and cry,</span> -<span class="i0">“Is there not bliss in sensibility?”</span> -<span class="i2">We walk’d together, and it seem’d not harm</span> -<span class="i0">In linking thought with thought, and arm with arm;</span> -<span class="i0">Till the dear boy would talk too much of bliss,</span> -<span class="i0">And indistinctly murmur—“such as this.”</span> -<span class="i2">When no maternal wish her heart beguiled, <span class="linenum">970</span></span> -<span class="i0">The lady call’d her son “her darling child;”</span> -<span class="i0">When with some nearer view her speech began,</span> -<span class="i0">She changed her phrase, and said, “the good young man!”</span> -<span class="i0">And lost, when hinting of some future bride,</span> -<span class="i0">The woman’s prudence in the mother’s pride.</span> -<span class="i2">Still decent fear and conscious folly strove</span> -<span class="i0">With fond presumption and aspiring love;</span> -<span class="i0">But now too plain to me the strife appear’d,</span> -<span class="i0">And what he sought I knew, and what he fear’d:</span> -<span class="i0">The trembling hand and frequent sigh disclosed <span class="linenum">980</span></span> -<span class="i0">The wish that prudence, care, and time opposed.</span> -<span class="i2">Was I not pleased, will you demand?—Amused</span> -<span class="i0">By boyish love, that woman’s pride refused?</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_477" id="Page_477">[Pg 477]</a></span> -<span class="i0">This I acknowledge, and from day to day</span> -<span class="i0">Resolved no longer at such game to play;</span> -<span class="i0">Yet I forbore, though to my purpose true,</span> -<span class="i0">And firmly fix’d to bid the youth adieu.</span> -<span class="i2">There was a moonlight eve, serenely cool,</span> -<span class="i0">When the vast ocean seem’d a mighty pool;</span> -<span class="i0">Save the small rippling waves that gently beat, <span class="linenum">990</span></span> -<span class="i0">We scarcely heard them falling, at our feet.</span> -<span class="i0">His mother absent, absent every sound</span> -<span class="i0">And every sight that could the youth confound;</span> -<span class="i0">The arm, fast lock’d in mine, his fear betray’d,</span> -<span class="i0">And, when he spoke not, his designs convey’d;</span> -<span class="i0">He oft-times gasp’d for breath, he tried to speak,</span> -<span class="i0">And studying words, at last had words to seek.</span> -<span class="i2">Silent the boy, by silence more betray’d,</span> -<span class="i0">And fearing lest he should appear afraid,</span> -<span class="i0">He knelt abruptly, and his speech began— <span class="linenum">1000</span></span> -<span class="i0">“Pity the pangs of an unhappy man.”</span> -<span class="i2">“Be sure,” I answer’d, “and relieve them too—</span> -<span class="i0">But why that posture? What the woes to you?</span> -<span class="i0">To feel for others’ sorrows is humane,</span> -<span class="i0">But too much feeling is our virtue’s bane.</span> -<span class="i2">“Come, my dear Rupert! now your tale disclose,</span> -<span class="i0">That I may know the sufferer and his woes.</span> -<span class="i0">Know, there is pain that wilful man endures,</span> -<span class="i0">That our reproof and not our pity cures;</span> -<span class="i0">For though for such assumed distress we grieve, <span class="linenum">1010</span></span> -<span class="i0">Since they themselves as well as us deceive,</span> -<span class="i0">Yet we assist not.”——The unhappy youth,</span> -<span class="i0">Unhappy then, beheld not all the truth.</span> -<span class="i2">“O! what is this?” exclaim’d the dubious boy;</span> -<span class="i0">“Words that confuse the being they destroy?</span> -<span class="i0">So have I read the gods to madness drive</span> -<span class="i0">The man condemn’d with adverse fate to strive.</span> -<span class="i0">O! make thy victim, though by misery, sure,</span> -<span class="i0">And let me know the pangs I must endure;</span> -<span class="i0">For, like the Grecian warrior, I can pray, <span class="linenum">1020</span></span> -<span class="i0">Falling, to perish in the face of day.”</span> -<span class="i2">“Pretty, my Rupert; and it proves the use</span> -<span class="i0">Of all that learning which the schools produce.</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_478" id="Page_478">[Pg 478]</a></span> -<span class="i0">But come, your arm—no trembling, but attend</span> -<span class="i0">To sober truth, and a maternal friend.</span> -<span class="i2">“You ask for pity?”—“O! indeed I do.”</span> -<span class="i0">“Well then, you have it, and assistance too:</span> -<span class="i0">Suppose us married!”—“O! the heavenly thought!”</span> -<span class="i0">“Nay—nay, my friend, be you by wisdom taught;</span> -<span class="i0">For wisdom tells you, love would soon subside, <span class="linenum">1030</span></span> -<span class="i0">Fall, and make room for penitence and pride;</span> -<span class="i0">Then would you meet the public eye, and blame</span> -<span class="i0">Your private taste, and be o’erwhelm’d with shame:</span> -<span class="i0">How must it then your bosom’s peace destroy</span> -<span class="i0">To hear it said, ‘The mother and her boy!’</span> -<span class="i0">And then to show the sneering world it lies,</span> -<span class="i0">You would assume the man, and tyrannize;</span> -<span class="i0">Ev’n Time, Care’s general soother, would augment</span> -<span class="i0">Your self-reproaching, growing discontent.</span> -<span class="i2">“Add twenty years to my precarious life, <span class="linenum">1040</span></span> -<span class="i0">And lo! your aged, feeble, wailing wife;</span> -<span class="i0">Displeased, displeasing, discontented, blamed;</span> -<span class="i0">Both, and with cause, ashaming and ashamed.</span> -<span class="i0">When I shall bend beneath a press of time,</span> -<span class="i0">Thou wilt be all erect in manhood’s prime;</span> -<span class="i0">Then wilt thou fly to younger minds t’ assuage }</span> -<span class="i0">Thy bosom’s pain, and I in jealous age <span class="ws8">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Shall move contempt, if still; if active, rage;<span class="ws4">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">And, though in anguish all my days are past,</span> -<span class="i0">Yet far beyond thy wishes they may last— <span class="linenum">1050</span></span> -<span class="i0">May last till thou, thy better prospects fled,</span> -<span class="i0">Shall have no comfort when thy wife is dead.</span> -<span class="i2">“Then thou in turn, though none will call thee old,</span> -<span class="i0">[Wilt] feel thy spirit fled, thy bosom cold;</span> -<span class="i0">No strong or eager wish to make the will,</span> -<span class="i0">Life will appear to stagnate and be still,</span> -<span class="i0">As now with me it slumbers: O! rejoice</span> -<span class="i0">That I attend not to that pleading voice;</span> -<span class="i0">So will new hopes this troubled dream succeed,</span> -<span class="i0">And one will gladly hear my Rupert plead.” <span class="linenum">1060</span></span> -<span class="i2">Ask you, while thus I could the youth deny</span> -<span class="i0">Was I unmoved?—Inexorable I,</span> -<span class="i0">Fix’d and determined; thrice he made his prayer,</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_479" id="Page_479">[Pg 479]</a></span> -<span class="i0">With looks of sadness first, and then despair;</span> -<span class="i0">Thrice doom’d to bear refusal, not exempt,</span> -<span class="i0">At the last effort, from a slight contempt.</span> -<span class="i2">“Did his distress, his pains, your joy excite?—”</span> -<span class="i0">No; but I fear’d his perseverance might.</span> -<span class="i0">Was there no danger in the moon’s soft rays,</span> -<span class="i0">To hear the handsome stripling’s earnest praise? <span class="linenum">1070</span></span> -<span class="i0">Was there no fear that while my words reproved</span> -<span class="i0">The eager youth, I might myself be moved?</span> -<span class="i0">Not for his sake alone I cried “persist</span> -<span class="i0">No more,” and with a frown the cause dismiss’d.</span> -<span class="i2">Seek you th’ event?—I scarcely need reply:</span> -<span class="i0">Love, unreturn’d, will languish, pine, and die.</span> -<span class="i0">We lived awhile in friendship; and with joy</span> -<span class="i0">I saw depart in peace the amorous boy.</span> -<span class="i0">We met some ten years after, and he then</span> -<span class="i0">Was married, and as cool as married men; <span class="linenum">1080</span></span> -<span class="i0">He talk’d of war and taxes, trade and farms,</span> -<span class="i0">And thought no more of me, or of my charms.</span> -<span class="i2">We spoke; and when, alluding to the past,</span> -<span class="i0">Something of meaning in my look I cast,</span> -<span class="i0">He, who could never thought or wish disguise,</span> -<span class="i0">Look’d in my face with trouble and surprise.</span> -<span class="i0">To kill reserve, I seized his arm, and cried,</span> -<span class="i0">“Know me, my lord!” when laughing, he replied,</span> -<span class="i0">Wonder’d again, and look’d upon my face,</span> -<span class="i0">And seem’d unwilling marks of time to trace; <span class="linenum">1090</span></span> -<span class="i0">But soon I brought him fairly to confess,</span> -<span class="i0">That boys in love judge ill of happiness.</span> -<span class="i2">Love had his day—to graver subjects led,</span> -<span class="i0">My will is govern’d, and my mind is fed;</span> -<span class="i0">And to more vacant bosoms I resign</span> -<span class="i0">The hopes and fears that once affected mine.</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_480" id="Page_480">[Pg 480]</a></span> -</div></div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_481" id="Page_481">[Pg 481]</a></span></p> -<hr class="chap" /> -<h2>ERRATA.</h2> - -<p class="f120">VOL. II.</p> - -<p class="blockquot">[<i>The lines cited from the several poems are -those of the poems; those cited from title-pages containing mottoes -are the lines of the pages.</i>]</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Page</span> 6 l. 21 for <i>or</i> read <i>but</i>.  -p. 13 l. 5 for <i>With</i> read <i>In</i>.  <i>ib.</i> l. 13 for 2 read 1.  <i>ib.</i> l. -17 for <i>Act II. Scene 7</i> read <i>Act IV. Scene 2</i>.  p. 27 l. 5 several -lines omitted after <i>and such</i>.  <i>ib.</i> l. 9 for 4 read 3. <i>ib.</i> l. 12 -for <i>o’er</i> read <i>in</i>.  <i>ib.</i> l. 14 for <i>Egean</i> read <i>Ægean</i>.  <i>ib.</i> -l. 15 for <i>Emilia</i> read <i>Æmilia</i>.  <i>ib.</i> l. 16 for 5 read 1.  <i>ib.</i> -l. 18 for <i>she bad</i> read <i>he bade</i>.  <i>ib.</i> l. 21 for <i>th’ insolent</i> -read <i>the insolent</i>.  <i>ib.</i> l. 24 for <i>fate</i> read <i>state</i>.  <i>ib.</i> l. -25 for <i>you</i> read <i>ye</i>.  p. 28 l. 13 for <i>Pain</i> read <i>Pains</i>.  p. 41 -l. 3 for <i>then</i> read <i>there ...</i>.  <i>ib.</i> l. 11 for 3 read 1.  -p. 47 l. 204 for <i>Chesterfield</i> read <i>‘Chesterfield.’</i>  p. 56 l. 4 for -<i>ever true and humble</i> read <i>a true and humble wife</i>.  <i>ib.</i> l. 10 for -<i>The fatal time</i> read <i>The leisure and the fearful time</i>.  <i>ib.</i> l. -11 for <i>all ceremonies and</i> read <i>the ceremonious</i>.  <i>ib.</i> l. 18 for -<i>impiety, thou impious</i> read <i>impiety and impious</i>.  <i>ib.</i> l. 20 for -2 read 1.  p. 67 l. 4 for <i>peculiar</i> read <i>particular</i>.  <i>ib.</i> l. 5 -for <i>she</i> read <i>he</i>.  <i>ib.</i> l. 6 for <i>her</i> read <i>his</i>.  <i>ib.</i> l. 7 for -<i>her</i> read <i>his</i>. <i>ib.</i> l. 16 for <i>Tempest</i> read <i>The Tempest</i>. p. 69 -l. 50 for <i>Marcus</i> read <i>‘Marcus.’</i>  p. 76 l. 344 for <i>divine!</i> read -<i>‘divine!’</i>.  p. 87 l. 3 for <i>make a curtsy</i> read <i>make curtsy</i>.  <i>ib.</i> -l. 4 for <i>but for</i> read <i>but yet for</i>.  <i>ib.</i> l. 11 for <i>amble, you -nick-name</i> read <i>you amble, and you lisp, and nick-name</i>.  <i>ib.</i> l. 15 -for <i>Am I contemn’d</i> read <i>Stand I condemn’d</i>.  <i>ib.</i> l. 16 for <i>II</i>. -read <i>III</i>.  p. 92 l. 166 <i>‘Chaste, sober, solemn’ and ‘devout.’</i> Not -in inverted commas.  p. 93 l. 197 for <i>what woman</i> read <i>that woman</i>.  -p. 95 l. 265 for <i>than</i> read <i>then</i>.  p. 101 l. 4 for <i>Or</i> read -<i>Could</i>.  <i>ib.</i> a line omitted after ll. 6, 7 and 8 respectively.  -p. 103 l. 46 for <i>Lea</i> read <i>lea</i>.  p. 113 l. 8 for <i>As You Like It</i> read -<i>Much Ado about Nothing, Act II. Scene 1</i>.  <i>ib.</i> l. 11 <i>Act IV. Scene -3</i> omitted.  <i>ib.</i> l. 14 for <i>hence</i> read <i>home</i>.  <i>ib.</i> ll. 16-20 -‘<i>Be the Sweet Helen’s Knell</i>’ is printed as immediately preceding -the rest of these lines, instead of following them 28 lines later.  -For <i>He left a wife</i> read <i>He lost a wife</i>. In the Shakspearean text -these words form the latter part of a line, and are followed by a -line and a half here omitted.  p. 116 l. 75 for <i>beauty bless’d</i> read -<i>beauty-bless’d</i>.  p. 124 after line 3 a line omitted.  <i>ib.</i> l. 9 for -<i>sometimes</i> read <i>something</i>.  <i>ib.</i> l. 13 for <i>Measure for Measure, -Act II. Scene 4</i> read <i>Much Ado about Nothing, Act III. Scene 1</i>.  -p. 134 l. 3 for <i>heavens</i> read <i>heaven</i>.  p. 145 l. 11 for <i>with purged</i> -read <i>in purged</i>.  p. 159 l. 13 for <i>upon</i> read <i>of</i>.  <i>ib.</i> l. 16 for -<i>pitiable</i> read <i>pitiful and</i>.  <i>ib.</i> l. 17 for <i>But thou art</i> read -<i>Thou stern</i>.  p. 185 l. 13 for <i>for it</i> read <i>for ’t</i>.  -p. 194 l. 311 for <i>dosed</i> read <i>dozed</i>.  p. 211 l. 8 for <i>in thee</i> read <i>of -thee</i>.  <i>ib.</i> l. 12 for <i>but tyrannous</i> read <i> but it is tyrannous</i>.  -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_482" id="Page_482">[Pg 482]</a></span> -p. 228 ll. 3 and 6 <i>She</i> and <i>Her</i> are substituted for <i>He</i> -and <i>His</i> in the original passage.  <i>ib.</i> l. 9 for <i>there is</i> read -<i>there’s</i>.  p. 242 l. 4 for <i>Taming the Shrew</i> read <i>Taming of -the Shrew</i>.  <i>ib.</i> l. 7 for <i>Act V. Scene 2</i> read <i>Act II. Scene 1</i>.  -p. 249 l. 233 for <i>has</i> read <i>had</i>.  p. 251 l. 6 for -<i>with my troll-my-dames</i> read <i>with troll-my-dames</i>.  <i>ib.</i> l. 7 for -<i>Scene 2</i> read <i>Scene 3</i>.  <i>ib.</i> l. 9 for <i>holding</i> read <i>hiding</i>.  -p. 253 l. 31 for <i>of as</i> read <i>as of</i>.  p. 259 l. 272 for -<i>seems</i> read <i>seemed</i>.  p. 261 l. 372 for <i>I boy</i> read <i>I a -boy</i>.  p. 264 l. 6 for <i>practice may</i> read <i>practices</i>.  <i>ib.</i> -l. 8 for <i>with hinds</i> read <i>with his hinds</i>.  <i>ib.</i> l. 12 for <i>being -what</i> read <i>being the thing</i>.  p. 276 l. 10 for <i>He has</i> read -<i>He is</i>.  p. 308 l. 200 for <i>know</i> read <i>knew</i>.  p. 341 -l. 298 for <i>hear</i> read <i>heard</i>.  p. 351 l. 184 for <i>look’d</i> -read <i>look</i>.  p. 381 l. 344 for <i>bounded</i> read <i>bonded</i>.  -p. 391 l. 738 for <i>comfort</i> read <i>comforts</i>.  p. 397 l. 91 -for <i>it</i> read <i>its</i>.  p. 409 ll. 556-8 three inverted commas, -instead of four, prefixed to each line, and no single inverted comma -at the end of l. 558.  p. 413 l. 716 for <i>parent’s</i> read -<i>parents’</i>.  p. 415 l. 807 for <i>peasant’s</i> read <i>peasants’</i>.  -p. 423 l. 116 for <i>Has</i> read <i>Had</i>.  p. 449 l. 731 no -inverted comma before and after the words But why delay so long?  -p. 461 ll. 358-9 no inverted commas prefixed to these lines, and -no inverted comma at the end of l. 359.  p. 462 l. 404 for -<i>bought</i> read <i>brought</i>.  p. 466 l. 567 no inverted comma at -beginning or end of this line.  p. 468 l. 636 no third inverted -comma before and after the words <i>I am this being</i>.  <i>ib.</i> ll. 638-40 -no third inverted comma before the word <i>thus</i> in l. 638 or before -ll. 639 and 640 or at the end of l. 640.  p. 469 ll. 692-7 two -inverted commas before each of these lines and at the close of l. -697.  p. 470 ll. 714-7 two inverted commas before each of these -lines and at the end of l. 717. p. 478 l. 1054 for <i>will</i> read <i>wilt</i>. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_483" id="Page_483">[Pg 483]</a></span></p> - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h2>VARIANTS.</h2> - -<p><b>TALES</b>. Variants in edition of 1812 (first edition), and -‘Original MS.’ readings given as footnotes in Life and Poems (1834). -These latter are distinguished as ‘O.M.’</p> - -<p>Preface: p. 5, l. 1. present Volume.  p. 10, l. 22. -Ahitophel.  l. 23. Ogg. pp. 10-11. <i>instead of</i>  l. 30-l. 5:</p> - -<p>It has been asked, if Pope was a poet? No one, I conceive, will -accuse me of vanity in bringing forward this query, or suppose me -capable of comparing myself with a man so eminent: but persons very -unlike in other respects may, in one particular, admit of comparison, -or rather the same question may be applied to both. Now, who will -complain that a definition of poetry, which excludes a great part of -the writings of Pope, will shut out him? I do not lightly take up -the idea, but I conceive that by that kind of definition, one half -of our most agreeable English versification (most generally held, by -general readers, to be agreeable and good) will be excluded, and an -equal quantity, at least of very moderate, or, to say truly, of very -wretched composition, will be taken in. <span class="initials">(O.M.)</span></p> - -<p><b>Tale 1.</b> <i>The edition of 1834 contains the following note to -the Quotations</i>: These mottoes are many, because there is a -reference in them not only to the characters, but frequently to the -incidents also; and they are all taken from Shakspeare, because I -could more readily find them in his scenes, than in the works of any -other poet to whom I could have recourse. <span class="initials">(O.M.)</span></p> - -<p>l. 310. tyger. l. 371. skulks.</p> - -<p><b>Tale 2.</b> Second Quotation. Hath written. Third Quotation. -fire and flood.  <i>instead of</i> ll. 191-4:</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">In a clear eve the lover sail’d, and one</span> -<span class="i0">As clear and bright on aged Allen shone:</span> -<span class="i0">On the spot sanction’d by the last embrace</span> -<span class="i0">The old man stood! and sigh’d upon the place. <span class="initials">(O.M.)</span></span> -</div></div> - -<p><i>instead of</i> ll. 253-274:</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Oft to his children had the father told</span> -<span class="i0">Where he resided in the years of old;</span> -<span class="i0">When, without thought, his feeling and his pride</span> -<span class="i0">The native town adorn’d and magnified;</span> -<span class="i0">The streets, the markets, and the quays were all</span> -<span class="i0">Spacious and grand, and every building tall:</span> -<span class="i0">The tower and church were sea-marks leagues from land—</span> -<span class="i0">Men were amazed to see them look so grand!</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_484" id="Page_484">[Pg 484]</a></span> -<span class="i0">His father’s house was then in Allen’s eyes,</span> -<span class="i0">But far increased in beauty and in size;</span> -<span class="i0">And their small area where the schoolboys play’d,</span> -<span class="i0">Room for an army had his fancy made:</span> -<span class="i0">But now the dark and feeble mind debased,</span> -<span class="i0">Contracted, sullied all that fancy graced,</span> -<span class="i0">All spaces dwindled—streets but alleys seem’d:</span> -<span class="i0">Then dreamt he now, or absent had he dream’d?</span> -<span class="i0">The church itself, the lofty tower, the scene</span> -<span class="i0">Of so much glory, was debased and mean:</span> -<span class="i0">The mind each object in dull clothing dress’d,</span> -<span class="i0">And its own sadness on each scene impress’d. <span class="initials">(O.M.)</span></span> -</div></div> - -<p><b>Tale 3.</b> l. 57. expence.  l. 92. indure. -<i>instead of</i>  ll. 105-7:</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Because in beaten ways we ever tread,</span> -<span class="i0">And man by man, as sheep by sheep, is led,</span> -<span class="i0">None start aside, but in the paths proceed, <span class="initials">(O.M.)</span></span> -</div></div> - -<p>l. 377. controul.  l. 398. controul.  l. 502. conns.  l. 514. controul.</p> - -<p><b>Tale 4.</b> Third Quotation, sundred.  l. 32. teazing.</p> - -<p><b>Tale 5.</b> l. 334. expence.  l. 348. extacy.  l. 492. teaz’d. - l. 662. controuling.  l. 703. curt’sy’d.</p> - -<p><b>Tale 6.</b> First Quotation. curtesy ... curtesy.  Third Quotation. -gig. l. 226. doat.</p> - -<p><b>Tale 7.</b> l. 46. besprinkled.  l. 162. rustics.  l. 370. needs.</p> - -<p><b>Tale 8.</b> First Quotation. pityless.  l. 36. teaze.  l. 39. saught. - l. 256. controul.  l. 325. intranc’d.</p> - -<p><b>Tale 9.</b> l. 15. mamas.  l. 32. Montague.  l. 55. to his failings -blind.  l. 56. the mind.  l. 57. pourtray’d.  l. 187. we knew not—’twas -her fate.</p> - -<p><b>Tale 10.</b> Third Quotation. this spring.  l. 106. dykes.  l. 116, -note. Laver.  l. 148. Trav’ler.  l. 162. Trav’ler’s.  l. 211. teiz’d. - l. 288. Trav’ler.  l. 321. Trav’ler.  l. 349. dykes.  l. 354. Trav’ler.</p> - -<p><b>Tale 11.</b> l. 15. Sampson.  l. 42. was dignity.  l. 127. Africk’s. - l. 233, arbor’s.  l. 297. bad.</p> - -<p><b>Tale 13.</b> l. 307. Colin.</p> - -<p><b>Tale 14.</b> Fourth Quotation. rooted sinew.  l. 89. Who knows?—or -build.  l. 352. teaze.  l. 377. controul.  l. 495, wo.</p> - -<p><b>Tale 15.</b> l. 10. earthy.  l. 158. controul.  l. 164. conceiving -that the coming day.  l. 248. are these sinners.  l. 406. temptations.</p> - -<p><b>Tale 16.</b> l. 499. secresy.  l. 581. æra.</p> - -<p><b>Tale 17.</b> Third Quotation, l. 3. act of our necessities.  l. 139. -controul.  l. 299. paniers.  l. 409. smoaky.</p> - -<p><b>Tale 18.</b> l. 196. controul.</p> - -<p><b>Tale 19.</b> l. 154. controul.  l. 180. controul. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_485" id="Page_485">[Pg 485]</a></span></p> - -<p><b>Tale 20.</b> l. 119. expence.  l. 132. expence.  l. 204. teaz’d. - l. 212. t’excuse it as a woman’s way.</p> - -<p><b>Tale 21.</b> l. 47. teaze.  l. 50. controul.  l. 53. uncontroul’d. - l. 186. tenour.</p> - -<p class="space-above3"><b>TALES OF THE HALL.</b> Variants in edition of 1819 (first edition).</p> - -<p><b>‘Original MS.’</b> readings given as footnotes in Life and Poems -(1834). These are distinguished as ‘O.M.’</p> - -<p><b>Variants in Crabbe MSS.</b> in the possession of the Cambridge -University Press. These are distinguished as ‘U.P.’</p> - -<p><b>Variants in Crabbe MSS.</b> in the possession of Mrs Mackay. -These are distinguished as ‘M.’</p> - -<p class="center space-above2"><b>Book I.</b></p> - -<p>l. 151. inforce.</p> - -<p class="center space-above1"><b>Book II.</b></p> - -<p><i>Instead of</i> ll. 15-20:</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Yet with this difference might observers find</span> -<span class="i0">Some kindred powers and features of the mind.</span> -<span class="i0">A love of honour in both spirits ruled,</span> -<span class="i0">But here by temper, there by trouble cool’d;</span> -<span class="i0">Their favourite objects, studies, themes, pursuits,</span> -<span class="i0">Had various beauties, merits, ends, and fruits. <span class="initials">(O.M.)</span></span> -</div></div> - -<p><i>instead of</i> ll. 63-70:</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Joel nor time nor seasons could command,</span> -<span class="i0">He took his comforts as they came to hand;</span> -<span class="i0">Nor came they often, nor delay’d so long,</span> -<span class="i0">That they were habits either weak or strong;</span> -<span class="i0">What seem’d habitual was the urgent force</span> -<span class="i0">Of stern necessity that shaped his course. <span class="initials">(O.M.)</span></span> -</div></div> - -<p class="center space-above1"><b>Book III.</b></p> - -<p><i>Instead of</i> ll. 7-14:</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“Oh! there’s a wicked little world in schools,</span> -<span class="i0">Where mischief suffers and oppression rules;</span> -<span class="i0">Where mild, quiescent children oft endure</span> -<span class="i0">What a long placid life shall fail to cure;</span> -<span class="i0">Where virtuous boys, who shrink from early sin,</span> -<span class="i0">Meet guilty rogues, who love to draw them in,</span> -<span class="i0">Who take a pleasure at their just surprise,</span> -<span class="i0">Who make them wicked, and proclaim them wise.” <span class="initials">(O.M.)</span></span> -</div></div> - -<p><i>instead of</i> ll. 23-34:</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“Behold him now, without the least pretence</span> -<span class="i0">To such command——behold him five years hence;</span> -<span class="i0">Mix’d in the world, his interest in his sight,</span> -<span class="i0">How smooth he looks, his language how polite,</span> -<span class="i0">No signs of anger, insult, scorn are seen;</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_486" id="Page_486">[Pg 486]</a></span> -<span class="i0">The address is mild, the temper is serene;</span> -<span class="i0">His fiery passions are resign’d and still,</span> -<span class="i0">They yield to reason, or obey his will.</span> -<span class="i0">But are they dead?—Not so: should he attain</span> -<span class="i0">The wish’d-for fortune, they will live again;</span> -<span class="i0">Then shall the Tyrant be once more obey’d,</span> -<span class="i0">And all be Fags, whom he can make afraid.” <span class="initials">(O.M.)</span></span> -</div></div> - -<p><i>instead of</i> ll. 90-7:</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“But when he sits in judgment, and decrees</span> -<span class="i0">What men should rule us, and what books should please,</span> -<span class="i0">And thus the merit of a critic gains,</span> -<span class="i0">Only for blowing out a Frenchman’s brains,</span> -<span class="i0">I must demur, and in my mind retrace</span> -<span class="i0">The accountant Hector, and his rueful face;</span> -<span class="i0">But on he blunders! thinking he is wise,</span> -<span class="i0">Who has much strength, no matter where it lies.” <span class="initials">(O.M.)</span></span> -</div></div> - -<p><i>instead of</i> ll. 192-7:</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“Again was made the offer, and again,</span> -<span class="i0">With threats, with noble promises, in vain.</span> -<span class="i0">When my Lord saw that nothing could be done,</span> -<span class="i0">He nobly cried,—‘I’ll fit him as my son;</span> -<span class="i0">Sir, will you go?’ As meekly as a saint,</span> -<span class="i0">Charles humbly begg’d to stay on land and paint.” <span class="initials">(O.M.)</span></span> -</div></div> - -<p><i>instead of</i> ll. 204-29:</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“Stubborn though mild, and fearing to offend,</span> -<span class="i0">He gain’d his freedom, and he lost his friend:</span> -<span class="i0">My Lord appeal’d to all the world, and cried,—</span> -<span class="i0">‘There never breathed such stubbornness and pride;</span> -<span class="i0">Do what you please, Sir, I am justified.’</span> -<span class="i0">So said my Lord; for he was grieved to find</span> -<span class="i0">Such vile ingratitude in base mankind.</span> -<span class="i2">“The boy then wrote for bread. I saw him thrice;</span> -<span class="i0">His passions placid, he without a vice:</span> -<span class="i0">He sometimes painted, but was uninspired</span> -<span class="i0">By genius, unprotected, unadmired;</span> -<span class="i0">But pensive, sober, diligent, employ’d<span class="ws8">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">His every hour, his life without a void, <span class="ws7">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">He sought for little, nothing he enjoy’d. <span class="ws6">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">I fear he thought himself, because distress’d,</span> -<span class="i0">An injured genius, by the world oppress’d.” <span class="initials">(O.M.)</span></span> -</div></div> - -<p><i>instead of</i> ll. 253-60:</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“Years past away; I think some twenty-five,</span> -<span class="i0">Again I saw him, and but just alive,</span> -<span class="i0">And still forbidding, silent, sullen, proud,</span> -<span class="i0">As one whose claims were just, and not allow’d.</span> -<span class="i0">He saw me, saw my sympathy with pain,<span class="ws8">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Received my humble offers with disdain,<span class="ws8">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">And sternly told me not to come again.” <span class="ws8">}</span><span class="initials">(O.M.)</span></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_487" id="Page_487">[Pg 487]</a></span> -</div></div> - -<p><i>instead of</i> ll. 296-301:</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“Thou, Charles! unaided by a noble friend,</span> -<span class="i0">Hadst spent a careful life, as others spend;</span> -<span class="i0">But when thy patron’s vanity and thine</span> -<span class="i0">Were made by cruel fortune to combine,</span> -<span class="i0">’Twas then th’ unhappy wretch was lifted high</span> -<span class="i0">On golden stilts, and seem’d to touch the sky;</span> -<span class="i0">But when the tempter hand withdraws the props,</span> -<span class="i0">The vision closes, and the victim drops.” <span class="initials">(O.M.)</span></span> -</div></div> - - -<p><i>instead of</i> ll. 362-87:</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“The boy was tall, but with a mincing air,</span> -<span class="i0">Blue, languid eyes, pale cheek, and flaxen hair;</span> -<span class="i0">His temper fretful, but his spirits mild,<span class="ws12">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Loved by mamma, by all her maidens styled<span class="ws7">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">The wittiest darling, and the sweetest child.<span class="ws8">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">In those dear times, when that mamma had rule,</span> -<span class="i0">There was much play, few lessons, and no school;</span> -<span class="i0">But, oh! misfortune—when the lady died,</span> -<span class="i0">No second wife her honour’d place supplied,</span> -<span class="i0">But one dishonour’d; and she quickly sent</span> -<span class="i0">All who had grief to grieve in banishment:</span> -<span class="i0">No longer now was there the rush of joy,</span> -<span class="i0">The flood of fondness o’er the happy boy;</span> -<span class="i0">No more indulgence by the maidens shown,</span> -<span class="i0">For master’s pleasure, purchase of their own;</span> -<span class="i0">But they as spies were to new service sent,</span> -<span class="i0">And the sad boy to school and banishment.” <span class="initials">(O.M.)</span></span> -</div></div> - -<p class="center space-above1"><b>Book IV.</b></p> - -<p><i>Instead of</i> ll. 3-22:</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“Brother,” said George, “when I beheld you last,</span> -<span class="i0">The time how distant!—Well! the time is past—</span> -<span class="i0">I had not then these comforts you behold,</span> -<span class="i0">Things that amuse us when we’re getting old.</span> -<span class="i0">These Pictures now! experienced men will say,</span> -<span class="i0">They’re genuine all, and so perhaps they may;</span> -<span class="i0">They cost the money, that I’m sure is true,</span> -<span class="i0">And therefore, Richard, I will say it too.</span> -<span class="i0">Music you find; for hither ladies come;</span> -<span class="i0">They make infernal uproar in the room.</span> -<span class="i0">I bear it. Why? because I must expect</span> -<span class="i0">To pay for honour, and I fear neglect.</span> -<span class="i0">And if attraction from your person flies,</span> -<span class="i0">You must some pleasure from your purse devise:</span> -<span class="i0">But this apart—the triflers should not know</span> -<span class="i0">That they can comfort or regret bestow.” <span class="initials">(O.M.)</span></span> -</div></div> - -<p><i>instead of</i> ll. 76-7:</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“That gun itself, that breaks upon the ear,</span> -<span class="i0">Has something suited to the dying year.”</span> -<span class="i0">“The dying partridge!” cried, with much disdain,</span> -<span class="i0">Th’ offended ’Squire—“Our laws are made in vain:</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_488" id="Page_488">[Pg 488]</a></span> -<span class="i0">The country, Richard, would not be amiss,</span> -<span class="i0">But for these plagues, and villanies like this;</span> -<span class="i0">Wealth breeds the curse that fixes on the land,</span> -<span class="i0">And strife and heritage go hand in hand.” <span class="initials">(O.M.)</span></span> -</div></div> - -<p><i>instead of</i> ll. 88-130:</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">They walk’d along, through mead and shaded wood,</span> -<span class="i0">And stubble ground, where late abundance stood,</span> -<span class="i0">And in the vale, where winter waters glide,</span> -<span class="i0">O’er pastures stretching up the mountain side.</span> -<span class="i2">With a shrewd smile, but mix’d with look severe,</span> -<span class="i0">The landlord view’d the promise of the year.</span> -<span class="i0">“See! that unrivall’d flock! they, they alone</span> -<span class="i0">Have the vast body on the slender bone;</span> -<span class="i0">They are the village boast, the country’s theme,</span> -<span class="i0">Fleece of such staple! flesh in such esteem!”</span> -<span class="i2">Richard gave praise, but not in rapturous style;</span> -<span class="i0">He chose his words, and spoke them with a smile:</span> -<span class="i0">“Brother,” said he, “and if I take you right,</span> -<span class="i0">I am full glad—these things are your delight;</span> -<span class="i0">I see you proud, but,”—speaking half aside—</span> -<span class="i0">“Is, now, the pleasure equal to the pride?”</span> -<span class="i2">A transient flush on George’s face appear’d,</span> -<span class="i0">Cloudy he look’d, and then his looks were cleared:</span> -<span class="i0">“Look at yon hind!” said he,—“in very deed,</span> -<span class="i0">His is the pride and pleasure in the breed;</span> -<span class="i0">He has delight, he judges—I the name,</span> -<span class="i0">And the whole praise—I speak it to my shame.</span> -<span class="i0">Oh! Richard, Richard, tell me, if you can,</span> -<span class="i0">What will engage and fix the mind of man?”</span> -<span class="i2">“Suppose,” said he, “we look about the green,  }</span> -<span class="i0">In yonder cots some objects may be seen,<span class="ws8">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">T’ excite our pity, or relieve our spleen,” <span class="ws8">}</span></span> -<span class="i2">“Oh! they are thieves and blockheads,” George replied,</span> -<span class="i0">“Unjust, ungrateful, and unsatisfied;</span> -<span class="i0">To grasp at all, their study, thought, and care,</span> -<span class="i0">All would be thieves and plunderers, if they dare;</span> -<span class="i0">His envious nature not a clown conceals,</span> -<span class="i0">But bluntly shows the insolence he feels.”</span> -<span class="i2">“And whence,” said Richard, “should the vice proceed,</span> -<span class="i0">But from their want of knowledge, and their need?</span> -<span class="i0">Let them know more, or let them better feel,</span> -<span class="i0">And I’ll engage they’ll neither threat nor steal.”</span> -<span class="i2">“Brother,” said George, “your pity makes you blind</span> -<span class="i0">To all that’s vile and odious in mankind;</span> -<span class="i0">’T is true your notions may appear divine,</span> -<span class="i0">But for their justice—let us go and dine.” <span class="initials">(O.M.)</span></span> -</div></div> - -<p class="center space-above1"><b>Book V.</b></p> - -<p>l. 182. woe. l. 415. controul. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_489" id="Page_489">[Pg 489]</a></span></p> - -<p class="center space-above1"><b>Book VI.</b></p> - -<p><i>The Book opens:</i></p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The evening came: “My Brother, what employs</span> -<span class="i0">Thy mind?” said Richard; “what disturbs thy joys?</span> -<span class="i0">Hast thou not all the good the world can give,</span> -<span class="i0">And liv’st a life that kings might sigh to live?</span> -<span class="i0">Can nothing please thee? Thou wert wont to seize</span> -<span class="i0">On passing themes, and make the trifles please.</span> -<span class="i0">Thy Muse has many a pleasant fancy bred,</span> -<span class="i0">And clothed in lively manner!—--is she dead?”</span> -<span class="i2">“Not dead but sick, and I too weary grow</span> -<span class="i0">Of reaping nothing from the things I sow.</span> -<span class="i0">What is the pleasure—thou perhaps canst say—</span> -<span class="i0">Of playing tunes, if none can hear thee play?</span> -<span class="i0">Timid and proud, the world I cannot court,</span> -<span class="i0">Nor show my labours for the critic’s sport.</span> -<span class="i0">Hast thou the courage, Richard? hast thou tried</span> -<span class="i0">An Author’s perils? hast thou felt his pride?</span> -<span class="i0">For vain the efforts, and they quickly tire,</span> -<span class="i0">If we alone our precious things admire.”</span> -<span class="i2">“Not so,” said Richard, and acquired a look</span> -<span class="i0">That some expression from his feelings took;</span> -<span class="i0">“Oh! my dear Brother, if this Muse of mine,</span> -<span class="i0">Who prompts the idle thought, the trifling line,</span> -<span class="i0">If she who calmly looks around, nor more</span> -<span class="i0">Muse of the Mad, the Foolish, and the Poor,</span> -<span class="i0">If she can pleasure—and she can—impart,</span> -<span class="i0">Can wing the fancy, can enlarge the heart;</span> -<span class="i0">What must a Muse of strength, of force, of fire,</span> -<span class="i0">In the true Poet’s ample mind inspire?</span> -<span class="i0">What must he feel, who can the soul express</span> -<span class="i0">Of saint or hero?—he must be no less.</span> -<span class="i0">Nor less of evil minds he knows the pain,</span> -<span class="i0">But quickly lost the anguish and the stain,</span> -<span class="i0">While with the wisest, happiest, purest, best,</span> -<span class="i0">His soul assimilates and loves to rest.</span> -<span class="i0">Crowns would I spurn, and empires would I lose,</span> -<span class="i0">For inspiration from the sacred Muse.”</span> -<span class="i2">“A song,” said George, “and I my secret store,</span> -<span class="i0">Confined in dust and darkness, will explore.</span> -<span class="i0">Poet with poet, bard and critic too,</span> -<span class="i0">We fear no censure, and dread no review.</span> -<span class="i0">A judge so placed must be to errors kind,</span> -<span class="i0">And yield the mercy that he hopes to find;</span> -<span class="i0">Begin then, Richard, put thy fears aside;<span class="ws5">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Shall I condemn, who must myself be tried? }</span> -<span class="i0">In me at least my Brother may confide.<span class="ws6">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">In hope of wearing, I shall yield the bays,</span> -<span class="i0">And my self-love shall give my rival praise.” <span class="initials">(O.M.)</span></span> -</div></div> - -<p><i>instead of</i> ll. 18-30:</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“Wilt thou explain? I shall not grieve to share</span> -<span class="i0">A lover’s sorrow, or a husband’s care?”</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_490" id="Page_490">[Pg 490]</a></span> -<span class="i2">Kindness like this had moved a sterner man,</span> -<span class="i0">Richard much more. He smiled, and thus began:—</span> -<span class="i2">“No more I loved the sea; that plunge had tamed</span> -<span class="i0">My blood, by youth in idleness inflamed:</span> -<span class="i0">To my affairs I forced my mind t’ attend,</span> -<span class="i0">And sought the town to counsel with a friend.</span> -<span class="i0">Much we debated—Could I now resign</span> -<span class="i0">My earthly views, and look to things divine?</span> -<span class="i0">Could I to merchandise my mind persuade,</span> -<span class="i0">And wait in patience for the gain of trade?</span> -<span class="i0">Or if I could not early habits quit,</span> -<span class="i0">Had I a stock, and could subsist on wit?</span> -<span class="i2">“Measures like these became my daily themes,</span> -<span class="i0">My airy castles, my projector’s dreams.</span> -<span class="i0">But health, so long neglected, now became</span> -<span class="i0">No more the blessing of my failing frame:</span> -<span class="i0">A fever seized it, of that dangerous kind,</span> -<span class="i0">That while it taints the blood, infects the mind.</span> -<span class="i0">I traced her flight as Reason slowly fled,</span> -<span class="i0">And her last act assured me Hope was dead:</span> -<span class="i0">But Reason err’d, and when she came again</span> -<span class="i0">To aid the senses and direct the brain,</span> -<span class="i0">She found a body weak, but well disposed</span> -<span class="i0">For life’s enjoyments, and the grave was closed.</span> -<span class="i0">But danger past, and my recovery slow,<span class="ws8">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">I sought the health that mountain gales bestow, }</span> -<span class="i0">And quiet walks where peace and violets grow. }</span> -<span class="i2">“Now, my dear Brother, when the languid frame</span> -<span class="i0">Has this repose, and when the blood is tame,</span> -<span class="i0">Yet strength increasing, and when every hour</span> -<span class="i0">Gives some increase of pleasure and of power,</span> -<span class="i0">When every sense partakes of fresh delight,</span> -<span class="i0">And every object wakes an appetite;</span> -<span class="i0">When the mind rests not, but for ever roves</span> -<span class="i0">On all around, and as it meets approves;</span> -<span class="i0">Then feels the heart its bliss, that season then is love.</span> -<span class="i2">“Think of me thus disposed, and think me then</span> -<span class="i0">Retired from crowded streets and busy men,</span> -<span class="i0">In a neat cottage, by the sweetest stream</span> -<span class="i0">That ever warbled in a poet’s dream;</span> -<span class="i0">An ancient wood behold, so vast, so deep,</span> -<span class="i0">That hostile armies might in safety sleep,</span> -<span class="i0">Where loving pairs had no observers near,</span> -<span class="i0">And fearing not themselves, had none to fear;</span> -<span class="i0">There to fair walks, fresh meadows, and clear skies,</span> -<span class="i0">I fled as flee the weary and the wise.” <span class="initials">(O.M.)</span></span> -</div></div> - -<p><i>instead of</i> ll. 174-5:</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“With whom she tarried, a delighted guest!</span> -<span class="i0">Delightful ever! blessing still and bless’d.” <span class="initials">(O.M.)</span></span> -</div></div> - -<p>l. 359. woe. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_491" id="Page_491">[Pg 491]</a></span></p> - -<p class="center space-above1"><b>Book VII</b>.</p> - -<p><i>Instead of</i> ll. 533-4:</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And thus she said, and with an air designed</span> -<span class="i0">To look and be affectionate and kind. <span class="initials">(U.P.)</span></span> -</div></div> - -<p>l. 551. woe. <i>instead of</i> ll. 593-8:</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Come, my dear Friend, discard that Brow of Care:</span> -<span class="i0">What was at first intended all things are;</span> -<span class="i0">All by the mighty Cause for bliss designed</span> -<span class="i0">The only good of Matter and in Mind.</span> -<span class="i0">So was I taught by one who taught me all</span> -<span class="i0">That I the first and only good can call! <span class="initials">(U.P.)</span></span> -</div></div> - -<p><i>instead of</i> ll. 601-2;</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I meant again, in spite of every Cow,</span> -<span class="i0">To pass that way and hear my Shepherd’s Vow. <span class="initials">(U.P.)</span></span> -</div></div> - -<p><i>after</i> l. 625:</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">When the sun is descended the moon will arise;</span> -<span class="i0">And sweeter her softer and mellower Ray,</span> -<span class="i0">When the blossom no longer is fair in our Eyes,</span> -<span class="i0">The Fruit will enlarge and our losses repay;</span> -<span class="i0">And when from the cheek the young Roses decay,</span> -<span class="i0">Tis a Sign that the Fire is collected within:</span> -<span class="i0">No longer for Boys the light flower to display,</span> -<span class="i0">But manly Affections to wake and to win. <span class="initials">(U.P.)</span></span> -</div></div> - -<p><i>instead of</i> ll. 626-41:</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">My Damon was the first to wake</span> -<span class="i2">The Flame that slept but cannot die;</span> -<span class="i0">My Damon is the last to take</span> -<span class="i2">The best the truest softest Sigh.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The Life between is nothing worth:</span> -<span class="i2">O! cast it all as vile away.</span> -<span class="i0">Save the sweet Day that gave it Birth,</span> -<span class="i2">And this a fonder happier Day.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">O tell me not what I have done,</span> -<span class="i2">When there is so much done amiss;</span> -<span class="i0">For who can fate and madness shun</span> -<span class="i2">In such bewildering World as this?</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Love can a thousand Faults forgive,</span> -<span class="i2">Or with a tender Smile reprove;</span> -<span class="i0">And now let nought in Memory live,</span> -<span class="i2">But that we meet and that we love. <span class="initials">(U.P.)</span></span> -</div></div> - -<p><i>instead of</i> ll. 664-7:</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Were you not Witness how I blossomed then,</span> -<span class="i0">Blushing and blooming in the Eyes of Men;</span> -<span class="i0">Made by one sex a Goddess, and denied</span> -<span class="i0">Respect and notice by the other’s Pride? <span class="initials">(U.P.)</span></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_492" id="Page_492">[Pg 492]</a></span> -</div></div> - -<p><i>instead of</i> ll. 682-91:</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Is it not written, he who came to save</span> -<span class="i0">The adultress [ ] of her Crime forgave;</span> -<span class="i0">Would the lost sheep all graciously restore,</span> -<span class="i0">And bade the weeping Sinner sin no more?</span> -<span class="i0">Yes, this is true, but where the Eye that reads</span> -<span class="i0">The broken Spirit or the Heart that bleeds?</span> -<span class="i0">But where the Heart that could the Deed deplore,</span> -<span class="i0">And where the Hand that would the Mind restore;</span> -<span class="i0">That could the sinful Soul on trust receive</span> -<span class="i0">And, tho’ all urged against Belief, believe? <span class="initials">(U.P.)</span></span> -</div></div> - -<p><i>instead of</i> ll. 702-9:</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">With Spirits low and ill-directed Mind</span> -<span class="i0">She soon her [       ] of penitence resigned;</span> -<span class="i0">And rushed again into the World, prepar’d</span> -<span class="i0">To do whatever thoughtless Frenzy dared.</span> -<span class="i0">And so she perished!</span> -<span class="i21">Nay! while yet disposed</span> -<span class="i0">T’ enjoy the world, the world’s adventures closed. <span class="initials">(U.P.)</span></span> -</div></div> - -<p><i>instead of</i> ll. 736-7:</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">To save from sin the long expected pay,</span> -<span class="i0">And call hence Souls whose bodies waste away. <span class="initials">(U.P.)</span></span> -</div></div> - -<p><i>instead of</i> ll. 742-3:</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And I a fellow sinner! who enquired</span> -<span class="i0">If ought beside the feeble Heart required</span> -<span class="i0">Was by, to watch the Dawn of Hope, to cheer</span> -<span class="i0">The drooping Spirit, and to prove how dear</span> -<span class="i0">The [Loving] Soul may be whose Turning is sincere. <span class="initials">(U.P.)</span></span> -</div></div> - -<p><i>instead of</i> l. 751:</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">To think for what was formed this Creature Man! <span class="initials">(U.P.)</span></span> -</div></div> - -<p><i>instead of</i> l. 757:</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Gold, to enlarge the Treasures that abound. <span class="initials">(U.P.)</span></span> -</div></div> - -<p><i>after</i> l. 766:</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I shuddered, R[ichard], at the general View—</span> -<span class="i0">The Work undone—What yet I had to do! <span class="initials">(U.P.)</span></span> -</div></div> - -<p>l. 781. woe. l. 782. woe. l. 789. woe.</p> - -<p class="center space-above1"><b>Book VIII</b>.</p> - -<p><i>Variant of</i> ll. 33-67:</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The Brothers’ Subject on their Morning Ride</span> -<span class="i0">Was, as it chanced, the Misery of Pride!</span> -</div></div> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i9">[illegible attempts.]</span> -<span class="i0">The very Virtues suffer! and but few</span> -<span class="i0">Altho’ unshamed bear Want and pity too.</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_493" id="Page_493">[Pg 493]</a></span> -<span class="i0">This is the Serpent Poverty that Stings!</span> -<span class="i0">And Wealth, thus flying, certain misery brings.</span> -</div></div> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The Wretched then the common fate deplore</span> -<span class="i0">And mourn Enjoyments that return no more.</span> -<span class="i0">They who so dearly loved in happier times</span> -<span class="i0">Doubt the tried Worth; their Sorrows are their Crimes.</span> -<span class="i0">They spoil the Temper; they disturb the rest;</span> -<span class="i0">Men fly the Scold, the Comforter, the Guest. <span class="initials">(M.)</span></span> -</div></div> - -<p><i>instead of</i> ll. 48-53:</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“Oh! that we had the virtuous pride to show</span> -<span class="i0">We know ourselves what all about us know;</span> -<span class="i0">Nor, when our board contains a single dish,</span> -<span class="i0">Tell lying tales of market-men and fish!</span> -<span class="i0">We know ’tis hard from higher views to fall—</span> -<span class="i0">What is not hard when life is trial all?” <span class="initials">(O.M.)</span></span> -</div></div> - -<p><i>after</i> l. 67:</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“But I digress, dear Richard, who despise</span> -<span class="i0">Tellers of tales, who stop and moralize;</span> -<span class="i0">As some good editors of Esop used</span> -<span class="i0">Their privilege, and readers’ sense abused:</span> -<span class="i0">Who half a page to write their fable took,</span> -<span class="i0">And just a page and half to swell their book.</span> -<span class="i0">But to that gentle being I return,</span> -<span class="i0">And, as I treat of patience, let me learn.” <span class="initials">(O.M.)</span></span> -</div></div> - -<p><i>instead of</i> ll. 106-7:</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“Like Saul’s fair daughters, as by Cowley sung;</span> -<span class="i0">Not from a monarch, but a yeoman sprung.” <span class="initials">(O.M.)</span></span> -</div></div> - -<p><i>after</i> l. 113:</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Who gazed at Jane saw Wonder and Delight;</span> -<span class="i0">Who looked on Lucy blessd the pleasing Sight.</span> -</div></div> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The Air of Lucy her Admirers held</span> -<span class="i0">In pleasing Bondage; that of Jane repell’d. <span class="initials">(M.)</span></span> -</div></div> - -<p><i>after</i> l. 119:</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Lucy not often could those Looks command,</span> -<span class="i0">But had the sober praise and offered Hand;</span> -<span class="i0">For those who breathed for Jane those Sighs of fire</span> -<span class="i0">Asked not their Reason, What do I desire?</span> -<span class="i0">While Lucy’s Lovers felt the Wishes rise</span> -<span class="i0">And could explain the purport of their Sighs.</span> -<span class="i0">In future day one spake how Friendships please,</span> -<span class="i0">And one, a Lover, whom we charm and teize;</span> -<span class="i0">And then began the speech of Jane to raise</span> -<span class="i0">Men’s awe, and Lucy’s to obtain their praise. <span class="initials">(M.)</span></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_494" id="Page_494">[Pg 494]</a></span> -</div></div> - -<p><i>instead of</i> ll. 196-207:</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Now Lucy’s Lover was a plain good Man,</span> -<span class="i0">Who meant to marry on a saving Plan.</span> -<span class="i0">Jane is perhaps the prettier one to view,</span> -<span class="i0">He judged; but [has] the Keener Judgment too;</span> -<span class="i0">And, if her Eye be more than Lucy’s bright,</span> -<span class="i0">And beams upon you with a fiercer Light,</span> -<span class="i0">A face may be admired; but, put the Case</span> -<span class="i0">A Man shall marry, what avails a face?</span> -<span class="i0">A Wife that[’s] pretty her Conditions makes;</span> -<span class="i0">A Wife that[’s] prudent rather gives than takes.</span> -<span class="i0">Beauty will cost require and Wealth command,</span> -<span class="i0">But there is Safety in a closing Hand;</span> -<span class="i0">And what if Lucy to the needy sends</span> -<span class="i0">Too great a portion and the deed defends,</span> -<span class="i0">That ’tis her own; there’s prudence in the Words</span> -<span class="i0">That will preserve the Good that is her Lord’s.</span> -<span class="i0">Besides, there’s not a Virtue we possess</span> -<span class="i0">So soon restrain’d as giving to distress;</span> -<span class="i0">And, then, a rival makes a woman nice,</span> -<span class="i0">And Jane’s admirer will enhance her price.</span> -<span class="i0">Thus, thinking but concealing what he thought,</span> -<span class="i0">This cautious Lover Lucy’s favour sought. <span class="initials">(M.)</span></span> -</div></div> - -<p><i>after</i> l. 231:</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Or why the Fear? and all that seemed so good</span> -<span class="i0">Was only Slyness rightly understood;</span> -<span class="i0">Then, too, his father living held the Son</span> -<span class="i0">From the sad Course he was disposed to run. <span class="initials">(M.)</span></span> -</div></div> - -<p><i>instead of</i> ll. 255-8:</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“Near to the village, where they now abide,</span> -<span class="i0">In their own style—the vulgar call it pride—</span> -<span class="i0">Dwelt the fair sisters: good they were and kind,</span> -<span class="i0">That prying scandal scarce could error find—</span> -<span class="i0">And candour none—they spent, they spared, they gave</span> -<span class="i0">Just as they ought to give, to spare, to save;</span> -<span class="i0">Like two queen-myrtles in an arbour’s side,</span> -<span class="i0">So they abode, and so might still abide,</span> -<span class="i0">But for a blight! it wounds me at the heart,</span> -<span class="i0">That I have grief and anguish to impart.” <span class="initials">(O.M.)</span></span> -</div></div> - -<p>l. 287. alchemist. <i>after</i> l. 419:</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“Thus fill’d with fear, that evening they attend</span> -<span class="i0">To his last home an ancient village-friend;</span> -<span class="i0">And they, reflecting on the old man’s days,</span> -<span class="i0">Who living had their love, and now their praise—</span> -<span class="i0">That good old man, with so much native sense,</span> -<span class="i0">Such health and ease, such hope with competence:</span> -<span class="i0">They could but own, if such should be their lot,</span> -<span class="i0">They should be thankful!—It, alas! was not.” <span class="initials">(O.M.)</span></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_495" id="Page_495">[Pg 495]</a></span> -</div></div> - -<p>l. 550. ecstacy. <i>after</i> l. 824:</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“I read your looks, my Brother, you would give</span> -<span class="i0">Largely to these—they should in comfort live,</span> -<span class="i0">Nor labour thus; but you would find it hard</span> -<span class="i0">To gain assent: professions they regard</span> -<span class="i0">As their experience bids them, and they run</span> -<span class="i0">From ready love, as they would treachery shun;</span> -<span class="i0">Yet have I woo’d them long, and they attend</span> -<span class="i0">With growing trust—they treat me as a friend,</span> -<span class="i0">And talk of my probation; but, afraid,</span> -<span class="i0">They take my counsel, but refuse my aid.” <span class="initials">(O.M.)</span></span> -</div></div> - -<p class="center space-above1"><b>Book IX</b>.</p> - -<p><i>Instead of</i> ll. 150-5:</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“The weeks fled smoothly, five or six, before,</span> -<span class="i0">Bless’d in the present, he could think of more.</span> -<span class="i0">Two months beside were at his villa spent, <span class="ws8">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Where first enraptured, he became content;<span class="ws8">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Then went to town, scarce knowing why he went.  }</span> -<span class="i0">His lady with him, as a wife should be—</span> -<span class="i0">Talk of a moon of honey! there were three.” <span class="initials">(O.M.)</span></span> -</div></div> - -<p><i>instead of</i> ll. 176-7:</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“For pairs not loving, cannot music find,</span> -<span class="i0">And loving pairs have music in the mind.” <span class="initials">(O.M.)</span></span> -</div></div> - -<p class="center space-above1"><b>Book XI</b>.</p> - -<p><i>The Book opens</i>:</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">That gentle Spinster, whom our Squire approved</span> -<span class="i0">So well, they judged aright who said he loved;</span> -<span class="i0">Though, when they thought to what the love would lead,</span> -<span class="i0">They err’d—for neither would so far proceed.</span> -<span class="i2">This Maiden Lady, to her promise just,</span> -<span class="i0">Gave them her story.—She could safely trust</span> -<span class="i0">Her neighbours both: the one she long had known,</span> -<span class="i0">The other kindness and respect had shown.</span> -<span class="i0">Frankly not fearless, from her early youth,</span> -<span class="i0">She gave her tale, nor would disguise a truth;</span> -<span class="i0">Timid in places, and with some restraint,</span> -<span class="i0">But still resolved the very facts to paint,</span> -<span class="i0">With plaintive smile she prefaced what she spoke,</span> -<span class="i0">And the Friends listen’d with attentive look. <span class="initials">(O.M.)</span></span> -</div></div> - -<p><i>after</i> l. 67:</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“Think not of love! it is a chance indeed,</span> -<span class="i0">When love and prudence side by side proceed.</span> -<span class="i0">Nay, when they do, I doubtfully approve—</span> -<span class="i0">Love baffles prudence—Oh! beware of love.” <span class="initials">(O.M.)</span></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_496" id="Page_496">[Pg 496]</a></span> -</div></div> - -<p><i>variant of</i> ll. 109-32:</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">He knew that Girls had heard that youth is bold,</span> -<span class="i0">And he would show how youthful were the old.</span> -</div></div> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">He knew the Vices that the youthful boast,</span> -<span class="i0">And he desired to show the form and Ghost</span> -<span class="i0">Of naked Evil, rob’d of every Grace</span> -<span class="i0">That could our Anger or Contempt displace—</span> -<span class="i0">Not as the drunken Slave to make me think</span> -<span class="i0">How odious Vice, but hoping I should drink.</span> -</div></div> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Repelled awhile, he answered, Did you drive</span> -<span class="i0">A Charge so precious, fear would be alive. <span class="initials">(U.P.)</span> </span> -</div></div> - -<p><i>instead of</i> ll. 150-1:</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">He said that Beauty now would scarcely sell;</span> -<span class="i0">The drug was plenteous, and the Market fell. <span class="initials">(U.P.)</span></span> -</div></div> - -<p><i>after</i> l. 163:</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And the weak side of woman—but he spied,</span> -<span class="i0">So it appeared to me, the viler side. <span class="initials">(U.P.)</span></span> -</div></div> - -<p><i>instead of</i> ll. 164-5:</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And all that this superior knowledge meant</span> -<span class="i0">Was to delude the weak and innocent. <span class="initials">(U.P.)</span></span> -</div></div> - -<p><i>variant of</i> ll. 190-221:</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">My Mother too seemed now disposed to try</span> -<span class="i0">A Life of Reason and Tranquillity;</span> -<span class="i0">She had till lately health and Spirits kept;</span> -<span class="i0">She ate in Comfort, and in Quiet slept.</span> -<span class="i0">But our late Subject was a kind that fills</span> -<span class="i0">The Mind, and poison in the Heart instills.</span> -<span class="i0">For five and forty years my Mother bore</span> -<span class="i0">Her Placid Looks, and Dress becoming wore;</span> -<span class="i0">She would a Compliment with pleasure take</span> -<span class="i0">That no undue Impression seemed to make;</span> -<span class="i0">But now her Nerves became disturbed and weak,</span> -<span class="i0">And we must Aid from a Physician seek:</span> -<span class="i0">A Scotch Physician, who had just began</span> -<span class="i0">To settle here—a very handsome Man,</span> -<span class="i0">And very wise, for I with Lovers twain</span> -<span class="i0">Was in his eye a very Child again;</span> -<span class="i0">While my dear Mother, twenty years a Wife,</span> -<span class="i0">Was to decide the Fortune of his life;</span> -<span class="i0">And she decided—- In a general way</span> -<span class="i0">Mama her power was willing to display.</span> -</div></div> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">But now like Monarch weary of a Throne</span> -<span class="i0">She would no longer reign, at least alone!</span> -<span class="i0">She held her pulse, and with a Look so sweet</span> -<span class="i0">Gave him to feel how softly they could beat. <span class="initials">(U.P.)</span></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_497" id="Page_497">[Pg 497]</a></span> -</div></div> - -<p><i>after</i> l. 227:</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">It was reported, nay it was believed</span> -<span class="i0">That both the wary parties were deceived;</span> -<span class="i0">For both had learnt the wicked world to cheat</span> -<span class="i0">And be a match for all its vile Deceit. <span class="initials">(U.P.)</span></span> -</div></div> - -<p><i>instead of</i> ll. 323-5:</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Was just his present purpose to pursue,</span> -<span class="i0">Send him to college and there let him learn</span> -<span class="i0">To live, and to his numerous brothers turn! <span class="initials">(U.P.)</span></span> -</div></div> - -<p><i>variant of</i> ll. 336-7:</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">In fact our hearts we gave as Lovers give</span> -<span class="i0">Before we asked if we as Men could live.</span> -<span class="i0">I lov’d the Youth, nor had I doubts that he<span class="ws7">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Had tender thoughts and faithful Hopes like me, }</span> -<span class="i0">And, as our Love was now, so would it ever be.  }<span class="initials">(U.P.)</span></span> -</div></div> - -<p><i>instead of</i> l. 410:</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Were placed our yellow plates of Stafford Ware. <span class="initials">(U.P.)</span></span> -</div></div> - -<p><i>instead of</i> ll. 433-4:</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">While Biddy slept, upon a Bed so hard</span> -<span class="i0">And coarse, I laid and was of Sleep debarred. <span class="initials">(U.P.)</span></span> -</div></div> - -<p><i>instead of</i> ll. 508-14:</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And what, as armed with right and power they asked,</span> -<span class="i0">Are your Soul’s Contests? and their own unmasked.</span> -<span class="i0">Confessing thoughts so strange and views so wild</span> -<span class="i0">I thought them Dreams, or fancies of a Child</span> -<span class="i0">Could she, they ask, her best attempts condemn, }</span> -<span class="i0">And did she long to touch the Garment’s hem, <span class="ws3">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">And was it so with her, for so it was with them? } <span class="initials">(U.P.)</span></span> -</div></div> - -<p><i>instead of</i> ll. 517-26:</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">My Mother kindly lent her teachers Aid</span> -<span class="i0">To win the Soul of her deluded maid;</span> -<span class="i0">I was compelled her female friends to hear,</span> -<span class="i0">But suffer’d not one bearded teacher near;</span> -<span class="i0">Tho’ more than one attempted with their whine</span> -<span class="i0">And ‘Sister! Sister!’ turn to love divine;</span> -<span class="i0">But my contending Spirit to direct</span> -<span class="i0">Was what I vow’d no Brother should effect;</span> -<span class="i0">But O! their Preacher, would I could receive</span> -<span class="i0">His precious dropping of the Dew at Eve! <span class="initials">(U.P.)</span></span> -</div></div> - -<p><i>instead of</i> ll. 533-6:</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">But soon appear’d and spoke in mode correct,</span> -<span class="i0">With all the cold dead freedom of the Sect;</span> -<span class="i0">Of his Conversion with conceit he spoke</span> -<span class="i0">Before he orders from his Bishop took. <span class="initials">(U.P.)</span></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_498" id="Page_498">[Pg 498]</a></span> -</div></div> - -<p><i>after</i> l. 548:</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">He then with self-applause his valour told</span> -<span class="i0">And how his boyish Love for me grew cold. <span class="initials">(U.P.)</span></span> -</div></div> - -<p><i>instead of</i> ll. 566-9:</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">On Sidmouth terrace pace at morn and noon,</span> -<span class="i0">Or view from Dawlish rocks the full-orb’d moon,</span> -<span class="i0">At Exmouth beacon the far bay explore,<span class="ws15">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Or quiet sit at Teignmouth’s pebbly shore;<span class="ws13">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">These scenes are lovely all, and will your peace restore.  }<span class="initials">(O.M.)</span></span> -</div></div> - -<p><i>instead of</i> ll. 574-87:</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Dear scenes of social comfort, friendly ease,</span> -<span class="i0">The power of pleasing, the delight to please;</span> -<span class="i0">When friends agreed the views around t’ explore,</span> -<span class="i0">When sympathising minds exchanged their store;</span> -<span class="i0">When fear was banish’d, and no form desired,</span> -<span class="i0">But such as decency and sense required;</span> -<span class="i0">When each in meeting wore the looks that make</span> -<span class="i0">Such strong impression, and preclude mistake;</span> -<span class="i0">When looks, and words, and manner all declare</span> -<span class="i0">What hearts, and thoughts, and dispositions are—</span> -<span class="i0">In fact, when we in various modes express <span class="ws4">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">That we are happy all! all answer yes!<span class="ws8">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">This is indeed approach to perfect happiness.  }</span> -<span class="i2">Dear objects! scatter’d in the world around,</span> -<span class="i0">Whom do ye gladden? where may ye be found?</span> -<span class="i0">Ye who excited joy by day, by night,</span> -<span class="i0">Ye who delighted to dispense delight,</span> -<span class="i0">Ye who to please the sadden’d temper strove,</span> -<span class="i0">Who, when ye loved not, show’d the effect of love,</span> -<span class="i0">Ye who are blessings wheresoe’er ye dwell,</span> -<span class="i0">Accept the wishes of a long farewell! <span class="initials">(O.M.)</span></span> -</div></div> - -<p><i>instead of</i> ll. 600-1:</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“No, I confess, there was a proneness yet</span> -<span class="i0">To think with foolish fondness and regret.” <span class="initials">(U.P.)</span></span> -</div></div> - -<p><i>variant of</i> ll. 620-38:</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Are we not good, benevolent and just;</span> -<span class="i0">Must not all love us? We are sure they must.</span> -<span class="i0">Are we not read in works of every kind;</span> -<span class="i0">Are we not prudent, rational, refined;</span> -<span class="i0">Are not our thoughts correct, our words discreet, }</span> -<span class="i0">And our Life void of folly, fraud, deceit; <span class="ws8">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">And where can we on Earth a purer Spirit meet?  }</span> -<span class="i0">Here the Heart ceased; I answer’d to the Heart:</span> -<span class="i0">A vile Deceiver, and a vain, thou art.</span> -<span class="i0">First, thy Religion I can plainly see</span> -<span class="i0">Wants the first requisite—Humility.</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_499" id="Page_499">[Pg 499]</a></span> -<span class="i0">We are so pure, the humble mind’s [resource],</span> -<span class="i0">Truth and Repentance, we may drop of course,</span> -<span class="i0">And with the gallant Frenchman at the Cry</span> -<span class="i0">Of the last Day say boldly, here am I! <span class="initials">(U.P.)</span></span> -</div></div> - -<p><i>variant of</i> ll. 649-52:</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">What is the good that thy whole life has done</span> -<span class="i0">Compared with her one day, a single one? <span class="initials">(O.M.)</span></span> -</div></div> - -<p><i>variant of</i> ll. 692-7:</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The tears of tender Souls which for him fell,<span class="ws10">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">And strong Persuasion, Brother! all is well. <span class="ws10">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Tarry, and Heav’n is thine; depart, and there is hell.— }</span> -<span class="i0">So I from frenzy’s Zeal and folly’s Creed</span> -<span class="i0">Was by Exertion and Discretion freed. <span class="initials">(U.P.)</span></span> -</div></div> - -<p><i>variant of</i> ll. 712-20:</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Still he would come, and talk as idlers do<span class="ws12">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Both of his old opinions and his new;<span class="ws15">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">For now he was convinced that nothing could be true. }</span> -<span class="i0">Barriers so strong against all Truth were placed</span> -<span class="i0">That by the wise no Tenet was embraced.</span> -<span class="i0">This was religion here that there was spurned;</span> -<span class="i0">Then how could Truth be anywhere discerned?</span> -<span class="i0">Her as a mistress Men indeed pursue<span class="ws11">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">In Chace for ever, never in their view;<span class="ws10">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">And who shall dare affirm that anything is true? }<span class="initials">(U.P.)</span></span> -</div></div> - -<p><i>variant of</i> ll. 816-27:</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">But in that world the faithful Youth shall view</span> -<span class="i0">One like himself, as generous and as true.</span> -<span class="i0">Such our Discourse; but, growing more refin’d,</span> -<span class="i0">And suited only to a Soul resigned—</span> -<span class="i0">For she would far in her fair View proceed</span> -<span class="i0">And as I could, I doubted or agreed—</span> -<span class="i0">I asked if Lovers took the wiser Way</span> -<span class="i0">Who to their Death their Union would delay,</span> -<span class="i0">For fear that Marriage should the Vision spoil</span> -<span class="i0">And the pure pleasure of the fancy soil? <span class="initials">(U.P.)</span></span> -</div></div> - -<p><i>variant of</i> ll. 834-49:</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And all betrayed a Man who had of Gold a store.</span> -<span class="i0">The comely Man moved, onward, and a pair</span> -<span class="i0">Of comely Maidens waited, with an Air</span> -<span class="i0">Of Doubt, till one exclaim’d with Voice profound,</span> -<span class="i0">And, O! ’tis Henry, dropt upon the Ground.</span> -<span class="i0">But she recovered, and, I pray you, guess</span> -<span class="i0">What then ensued and how much Happiness.</span> -<span class="i0">Just as the Lover chanc’d his Home to find,</span> -<span class="i0">The Lady fixed on other home her Mind;</span> -<span class="i0">They parted Lovers who were grieved to part;</span> -<span class="i0">They met as Neighbours! heal’d was either heart.</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_500" id="Page_500">[Pg 500]</a></span> -<span class="i0">Each on the others Looks could raptured dwell,</span> -<span class="i0">They now could say, You look extremely well.</span> -<span class="i0">She had prepared in some blessed world to meet;</span> -<span class="i0">The Knight, of purchasing a snug Retreat,</span> -<span class="i0">In this and there in good Regard to live:</span> -<span class="i0">Among their Friends ’twas all it now could give. <span class="initials">(U.P.)</span></span> -</div></div> - -<p><i>variant of</i> ll. 864-75:</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">What Time has done, gross food and vulgar Trade</span> -<span class="i0">Has all impaired that Love and Nature made.</span> -<span class="i0">I cannot take him—I my Friend approved,</span> -<span class="i0">Who dare refuse when she no longer loved.</span> -<span class="i0">But he was loud and loving, fierce and free,</span> -<span class="i0">And weak and timid vain and grateful She.</span> -<span class="i0">Thus sundry motives more than I can name</span> -<span class="i0">Rose on his side, and she a Wife became. <span class="initials">(U.P.)</span></span> -</div></div> - -<p><i>instead of</i> ll. 890-3:</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Yet his the Comfort of an Heart that feels</span> -<span class="i0">A single day, and that the morrow heals;</span> -<span class="i0">And yet he grieved a while, and he would weep,</span> -<span class="i0">And swear profusely I had murdered sleep;</span> -<span class="i0">Had quite unman’d him for heroic Vein,</span> -<span class="i0">And he could only murmur and complain. <span class="initials">(U.P.)</span></span> -</div></div> - -<p><i>variant of</i> ll. 903-4:</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Yet e’er we parted he his Prayer renewed,</span> -<span class="i0">And urged me “Do not live in Solitude!</span> -<span class="i0">Wert thou my Lady to the Study take</span> -<span class="i0">O! what a Desdemona wouldst thou make.” <span class="initials">(U.P.)</span></span> -</div></div> - -<p><i>after</i> l. 904:</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And then he spouted—till I cried, Is he</span> -<span class="i0">The man I loved? Oh! that could never be.</span> -<span class="i0">No! time upon the outward beauty preys,</span> -<span class="i0">And the mind’s beauty in its vice decays. <span class="initials">(O.M.)</span></span> -</div></div> - -<p><i>instead of</i> ll. 910-2:</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">But that he lost, and with a wither’d hand.</span> -<span class="i0">Stood at his father’s gate, as beggars stand;</span> -<span class="i0">But his were jealous brethren, and they kept</span> -<span class="i0">Their dying father from him, till he slept. <span class="initials">(O.M.)</span></span> -</div></div> - -<p><i>instead of</i> ll. 926-8:</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And no Adventure marked the waste of Years;</span> -<span class="i0">I thought me past them, but I met with one,</span> -<span class="i0">A call to Folly e’er the pasts were done. <span class="initials">(U.P.)</span></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_501" id="Page_501">[Pg 501]</a></span> -</div></div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<h2>VARIANTS. VOL. I. ADDENDA.</h2> - -<p><b>THE LIBRARY</b>. ‘Original MS.’ readings given as footnotes -Life and Poems (1834).</p> - -<p><i>After</i> l. 4:</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Where can the wretched lose their cares, and hide</span> -<span class="i0">The tears of sorrow from the eyes of pride?</span> -<span class="i0">Can they in silent shades a refuge find</span> -<span class="i0">From all the scorn and malice of mankind?</span> -<span class="i0">From wit’s disdain, and wealth’s provoking sneer,  }</span> -<span class="i0">From folly’s grin, and humour’s stupid leer,<span class="ws8">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">And clamour’s iron tongue, censorious and severe? }</span> -<span class="i0">There can they see the scenes of nature gay,</span> -<span class="i0">And shake the gloomy dreams of life away?</span> -<span class="i0">Without a sigh, the hope of youth give o’er,</span> -<span class="i0">And with aspiring honour climb no more.</span> -<span class="i2">Alas! we fly to peaceful shades in vain;</span> -<span class="i0">Peace dwells within, or all without is pain:</span> -<span class="i0">No storm-tost sailor sighs for slumbering seas—</span> -<span class="i0">He dreads a tempest, but desires a breeze.</span> -<span class="i0">The placid waves with silent swell disclose</span> -<span class="i0">A clearer view, and but reflect his woes.</span> -<span class="i0">So life has calms, in which we only see</span> -<span class="i0">A fuller prospect of our misery.</span> -<span class="i2">When the sick heart, by no design employ’d,</span> -<span class="i0">Throbs o’er the past, or suffer’d, or enjoy’d,</span> -<span class="i0">In former pleasures finding no relief,</span> -<span class="i0">And pain’d anew in every former grief.</span> -<span class="i0">Can friends console us when our cares distress,</span> -<span class="i0">Smile on our woes, and make misfortunes less?</span> -<span class="i0">Alas! like winter’d leaves, they fall away,</span> -<span class="i0">Or more disgrace our prospects by delay;</span> -<span class="i0">The genial warmth, the fostering sap is past,</span> -<span class="i0">That kept them faithful, and that held them fast.</span> -<span class="i2">Where shall we fly?—to yonder still retreat,</span> -<span class="i0">The haunt of Genius and the Muses’ seat,</span> -<span class="i0">Where all our griefs in others’ strains rehearse,</span> -<span class="i0">Speak with old Time, and with the dead converse;</span> -<span class="i0">Till Fancy, far in distant regions flown,</span> -<span class="i0">Adopts a thousand schemes, and quits her own;</span> -<span class="i0">Skims every scene, and plans with each design,</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_502" id="Page_502">[Pg 502]</a></span> -<span class="i0">Towers in each thought, and lives in every line;</span> -<span class="i0">From clime to clime with rapid motion flies,</span> -<span class="i0">Weeps without woe, and without sorrow sighs;</span> -<span class="i0">To all things yielding, and by all things sway’d,</span> -<span class="i0">To all obedient, and by all obey’d;</span> -<span class="i0">The source of pleasures, noble and refined,</span> -<span class="i0">And the great empress of the Poet’s mind.</span> -<span class="i2">Here led by thee, fair Fancy, I behold</span> -<span class="i0">The mighty heroes, and the bards of old!</span> -<span class="i0">For here the Muses sacred vigils keep,</span> -<span class="i0">And all the busy cares of being sleep;</span> -<span class="i0">No monarch covets war, nor dreams of fame,</span> -<span class="i0">No subject bleeds to raise his tyrant’s name,</span> -<span class="i0">No proud great man, or man that would be great,</span> -<span class="i0">Drives modest merit from its proper state,</span> -<span class="i0">Nor rapine reaps the good by labour sown,</span> -<span class="i0">Nor envy blasts a laurel, but her own.</span> -<span class="i2">Yet Contemplation, silent goddess, here,</span> -<span class="i0">In her vast eye, makes all mankind appear,</span> -<span class="i0">All Nature’s treasures, all the stores of Art,</span> -<span class="i0">That fire the fancy, or engage the heart,</span> -<span class="i0">The world’s vast views, the fancy’s wild domain,</span> -<span class="i0">And all the motley objects of the brain:</span> -<span class="i0">Here mountains hurl’d on mountains proudly rise,</span> -<span class="i0">Far, far o’er Nature’s dull realities;</span> -<span class="i0">Eternal verdure decks a sacred clime,</span> -<span class="i0">Eternal spring for ever blooms in rhyme,</span> -<span class="i0">And heroes honour’d for imputed deeds,</span> -<span class="i0">And saints adored for visionary creeds,</span> -<span class="i0">Legends and tales, and solitude and sighs,</span> -<span class="i0">Poor doating dreams, and miserable lies,</span> -<span class="i0">The empty bubbles of a pensive mind,</span> -<span class="i0">And Spleen’s sad effort to debase mankind.</span> -<span class="i2">Here Wonder gapes at Story’s dreadful page,</span> -<span class="i0">And Valour mounts by true poetic rage,</span> -<span class="i0">And Pity weeps to hear the mourning maid,</span> -<span class="i0">And Envy saddens at the praise convey’d.</span> -<span class="i0">Devotion kindles at the pious strain,</span> -<span class="i0">And mocks the madness of the fool’s disdain:</span> -<span class="i0">Here gentle Delicacy turns her eye</span> -<span class="i0">From the loose page, and blushes her reply,</span> -<span class="i0">Alone, unheeded, calls her soul to arms,</span> -<span class="i0">Fears every thought, and flies from all alarms.</span> -<span class="i0">Pale Study here, to one great point resign’d;</span> -<span class="i0">Derides the various follies of mankind;</span> -<span class="i0">As distant objects sees their several cares,</span> -<span class="i0">And with his own their trifling work compares;</span> -<span class="i0">But still forgets like him men take their view,</span> -<span class="i0">And near their own, his works are trifling too:—</span> -<span class="i0">So suns and planets scarcely fill the eye</span> -<span class="i0">When earth’s poor hills and man’s poor huts are nigh;</span> -<span class="i0">But, were the eye in airy regions tost,</span> -<span class="i0">The world would lessen, and her hills be lost;</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_503" id="Page_503">[Pg 503]</a></span> -<span class="i0">And were the mighty orbs above us known,</span> -<span class="i0">No world would seem so trifling as our own.</span> -<span class="i2">Here looking back, the wond’ring soul surveys</span> -<span class="i0">The sacred relics of departed days,</span> -<span class="i0">Where grace, and truth, and excellence reside,</span> -<span class="i0">To claim our praise, and mortify our pride;</span> -<span class="i0">Favour’d by fate, our mighty fathers found</span> -<span class="i0">The virgin Muse, with every beauty crown’d:</span> -<span class="i0">They woo’d and won; and, banish’d their embrace,</span> -<span class="i0">She comes a harlot to their feebler race:</span> -<span class="i0">Deck’d in false taste, with gaudy shows of art</span> -<span class="i0">She charms the eye, but touches not the heart;</span> -<span class="i0">By thousands courted, but by few caress’d,</span> -<span class="i0">False when pursued, and fatal when possess’d.</span> -<span class="i2">From hence we rove, with Fancy for our guide,</span> -<span class="i0">O’er this wide world, and other worlds more wide,</span> -<span class="i0">Where other suns their vital power display,</span> -<span class="i0">And round revolving planets dart the day;</span> -<span class="i0">Where comets blaze, by mortals unsurvey’d,</span> -<span class="i0">And stray where Galileo never stray’d;</span> -<span class="i0">Where God himself conducts each vast machine,</span> -<span class="i0">Uncensured by mankind, because unseen.</span> -<span class="i2">Here, too, we trace the varied scenes of life,</span> -<span class="i0">The tyrant husband, the retorting wife,</span> -<span class="i0">The hero fearful to appear afraid,</span> -<span class="i0">The thoughts of the deliberating maid;</span> -<span class="i0">The snares for virtue, and the turns of fate,</span> -<span class="i0">The lie of trade, and madness of debate;</span> -<span class="i0">Here force deals death around, while fools applaud,</span> -<span class="i0">And caution watches o’er the lips of fraud;</span> -<span class="i0">Whate’er the world can show, here scorn derides,</span> -<span class="i0">And here suspicion whispers what it hides—</span> -<span class="i0">The secret thought, the counsel of the breast,</span> -<span class="i0">The coming news, and the expected jest....</span> -<span class="i0">High panegyric, in exalted style,</span> -<span class="i0">That smiles for ever, and provokes a smile,</span> -<span class="i0">And Satire, with her fav’rite handmaids by—</span> -<span class="i0">Here loud abuse, there simpering irony....</span> -<span class="i0">All now display’d, without a mask are known,</span> -<span class="i0">And every vice in nature, but our own.</span> -<span class="i2">Yet Pleasure too, and Virtue, still more fair,</span> -<span class="i0">To this blest seat with mutual speed repair;</span> -<span class="i0">The social sweets in life’s securer road,</span> -<span class="i0">Its bliss unenvied, its substantial good,</span> -<span class="i0">The happy thought that conscious virtue gives,</span> -<span class="i0">And all that ought to live, and all that lives.</span> -</div></div> - -<p><i>after</i> l. 104:</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Maxims I glean, of mighty pith and force,</span> -<span class="i0">And moral themes to shine in a discourse,</span> -<span class="i0">But, tired with these, I take a lighter train,</span> -<span class="i0">Tuned to the times, impertinent and vain.</span> -<span class="i0">The tarts which wits provide for taste decay’d,</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_504" id="Page_504">[Pg 504]</a></span> -<span class="i0">And syllabubs by frothy witlings made,</span> -<span class="i0">An easy, idle, thoughtless, graceless throng,</span> -<span class="i0">Pun, jest, and quibble, epigram and song,</span> -<span class="i0">Trifles to which declining genius bends,</span> -<span class="i0">And steps by which aspiring wit ascends.</span> -<span class="i2">Now sad and slow, with cautious step I tread,</span> -<span class="i0">And view around the venerable dead;</span> -<span class="i0">For where in all her walks shall study seize</span> -<span class="i0">Such monuments of human state as these?</span> -</div></div> - -<p><i>after</i> l. 430:</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“Ah! happy age,” the youthful poet cries,</span> -<span class="i0">“Ere laws arose—ere tyrants bade them rise;</span> -<span class="i0">No land-marks then the happy swain beheld,</span> -<span class="i0">Nor lords walk’d proudly o’er the furrow’d field;</span> -<span class="i0">Nor through distorted ways did Avarice roam,</span> -<span class="i0">To fetch delights for Luxury at home:</span> -<span class="i0">But mutual joy the friends of Nature proved,</span> -<span class="i0">And swains were faithful to the nymphs they loved.”</span> -<span class="i2">“Mistaken bards! all nations first were rude;</span> -<span class="i0">Man! proud, unsocial, prone to solitude:</span> -<span class="i0">O’er hills, or vales, or floods, was fond to roam—</span> -<span class="i0">The mead his garden, and the rock his home:</span> -<span class="i0">For flying prey he searched a savage coast—</span> -<span class="i0">Want was his spur, and liberty his boast.”</span> -</div></div> - -<p><i>after</i> l. 570:</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i2">Ah! lost, for ever lost, to me these charms,</span> -<span class="i0">These lofty notions and divine alarms,</span> -<span class="i0">Too dearly bought—maturer judgment calls</span> -<span class="i0">My pensive soul from tales and madrigals—</span> -<span class="i0">For who so blest or who so great as I,</span> -<span class="i0">Wing’d round the globe with Rowland or Sir Guy?</span> -<span class="i0">Alas! no more I see my queen repair</span> -<span class="i0">To balmy bowers that blossom in the air,</span> -<span class="i0">Where on their rosy beds the Graces rest,</span> -<span class="i0">And not a care lies heavy on the breast.</span> -<span class="i2">No more the hermit’s mossy cave I choose,</span> -<span class="i0">Nor o’er the babbling brook delight to muse;</span> -<span class="i0">My doughty giants all are slain or fled,</span> -<span class="i0">And all my knights—blue, green, and yellow—dead!</span> -<span class="i0">Magicians cease to charm me with their art,</span> -<span class="i0">And not a griffin flies to glad my heart.</span> -<span class="i0">No more the midnight fairy tribe I view,</span> -<span class="i0">All in the merry moonshine tippling dew.</span> -<span class="i0">The easy joys that charm’d my sportive youth,</span> -<span class="i0">Fly Reason’s power, and shun the voice of Truth.</span> -<span class="i0">Maturer thoughts severer taste prepares,</span> -<span class="i0">And baffles every spell that charm’d my cares.</span> -<span class="i2">Can Fiction, then, the noblest bliss supply,</span> -<span class="i0">Or joy reside in inconsistency?</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_505" id="Page_505">[Pg 505]</a></span> -</div></div> - -<p><i>after</i> l. 594:</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i2">But who are these, a tribe that soar above,</span> -<span class="i0">And tell more tender tales of modern love?</span> -<span class="i0">A <span class="smcap">Novel</span> train! the brood of old Romance,</span> -<span class="i0">Conceived by Folly on the coast of France,</span> -<span class="i0">That now with lighter thought, and gentler fire,</span> -<span class="i0">Usurp the honours of their drooping sire;</span> -<span class="i0">And still fantastic, vain, and trifling, sing</span> -<span class="i0">Of many a soft and inconsistent thing,—</span> -<span class="i0">Of rakes repenting, clogg’d in Hymen’s chain—</span> -<span class="i0">Of nymph reclined by unpresuming swain—</span> -<span class="i0">Of captains, colonels, lords, and amorous knights,</span> -<span class="i0">That find in humbler nymphs such chaste delights,</span> -<span class="i0">Such heavenly charms, so gentle, yet so gay,</span> -<span class="i0">That all their former follies fly away.</span> -<span class="i0">Honour springs up, where’er their looks impart</span> -<span class="i0">A moment’s sunshine to the harden’d heart—</span> -<span class="i0">A virtue, just before the rover’s jest,</span> -<span class="i0">Grows like a mushroom in his melting breast.</span> -<span class="i0">Much, too, they tell of cottages and shades,</span> -<span class="i0">Of balls, and routs, and midnight masquerades,</span> -<span class="i0">Where dangerous men and dangerous mirth reside,</span> -<span class="i0">And Virtue goes—on purpose to be tried.</span> -<span class="i2">These are the tales that wake the soul to life,</span> -<span class="i0">That charm the sprightly niece and forward wife,</span> -<span class="i0">That form the manners of a polish’d age,</span> -<span class="i0">And each pure easy moral of the Stage.</span> -<span class="i2">Thus to her friend the ever-faithful she—</span> -<span class="i0">The tender Delia—writes, securely free—</span> -<span class="i0">Delia from school was lately bold to rove,</span> -<span class="i0">Where yet Lucinda meditated love.</span> -<span class="i2">“Oh thou, the partner of my pensive breast,</span> -<span class="i0">And, but for one! its most delightful guest,</span> -<span class="i0">But for that one of whom ’twas joy to talk,</span> -<span class="i0">When the chaste moon gleam’d o’er our ev’ning walk,</span> -<span class="i0">And cooing fondly in the neighbouring groves</span> -<span class="i0">The pretty songsters all enjoy’d their loves;</span> -<span class="i0">Receive! as witness all ye powers! I send,</span> -<span class="i0">With melting heart, this token of thy friend.</span> -<span class="i2">“Calm was the night! and every breeze was low;</span> -<span class="i0">Swift ran the stream—but, ah! the moments slow!</span> -<span class="i0">Fly swift, ye moments! slowly run, thou stream,</span> -<span class="i0">And on thy margin let a maiden dream.</span> -<span class="i2">“Methought he came, my Harry, young and gay,</span> -<span class="i0">The very youth that stole my heart away.</span> -<span class="i0">I wake. Surprise! yet guess how blest was I!</span> -<span class="i0">With looks of love—the very youth was by.</span> -<span class="i0">‘Whose is that form my Delia’s bosom hides?</span> -<span class="i0">What youth divinely blest within presides?’</span> -<span class="i0">He spoke and sigh’d. His sighs my fear supprest,</span> -<span class="i0">He seized his angel form, and actions spoke the rest.</span> -<span class="i2">“Oh, Virtue! brighter than the noon-tide ray!</span> -<span class="i0">Still guide my steps, and guide them nature’s way;</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_506" id="Page_506">[Pg 506]</a></span> -<span class="i0">With sacred precepts fill the youthful mind,</span> -<span class="i0">Soothe all its cares, and force it to be kind.”</span> -<span class="i1">Thus, gentle passions warm the generous maid,</span> -<span class="i0">No more reluctant, and no more afraid;</span> -<span class="i0">Thus Virtue shines, and in her loveliest dress</span> -<span class="i0">Not over nice, nor Virtue to excess.</span> -<span class="i2">Near these I look, and lo! a reptile race,</span> -<span class="i0">In goodly vests conceal the want of grace;</span> -<span class="i0">The brood of Humour, Fancy, Frolic, Fun,</span> -<span class="i0">The tale obscene, the miserable pun;</span> -<span class="i0">The jest that Laughter loves, he knows not why,</span> -<span class="i0">And Whim tells quaintly with distorted eye.</span> -<span class="i0">Here Languor, yawning, pays his first devoirs,</span> -<span class="i0">And skims sedately o’er his dear Memoirs;</span> -<span class="i0">Here tries his tedious moments to employ,</span> -<span class="i0">And, palsied by enjoyment, dreams of joy;</span> -<span class="i0">From all the tribe his little knowledge steals,</span> -<span class="i0">From dull “Torpedoes,” and “Electric Eels;”</span> -<span class="i0">And every trifle of a trifling age,</span> -<span class="i0">That shames the closet, or degrades the Stage.</span> -</div></div> - -<p><i>after</i> l. 602:</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i2">Here as I stand, of sovereign power possess’d,</span> -<span class="i0">A vast ambition fires my swelling breast;</span> -<span class="i0">I deal destruction round, and, all severe,</span> -<span class="i0">Damn with a dash, and censure with a sneer;</span> -<span class="i0">Or from the Critic wrest a sinking cause,</span> -<span class="i0">Rejudge his justice, and repeal his laws;</span> -<span class="i0">Now half by judgment guided, half by whim,</span> -<span class="i0">I grasp disputed power, and tyrannise like him;</span> -<span class="i0">Food for the mind I seek; but who shall find</span> -<span class="i0">The food that satisfies the craving mind?</span> -<span class="i0">Like fire it rages; and its fatal rage</span> -<span class="i0">What pains can deaden, and what care assuage?</span> -<span class="i0">Choked by its fuel, though it clouded lies,</span> -<span class="i0">It soon eats through, and craves for new supplies;</span> -<span class="i0">Now here, now there, with sudden fury breaks</span> -<span class="i0">And to its substance turns whate’er it takes.</span> -<span class="i0">To weighty themes I fly with eager haste,</span> -<span class="i0">And skim their treasures like the man of taste;</span> -<span class="i0">From a few pages learn the whole design,<span class="ws4">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">And damn a book for one suspicious line,<span class="ws4">}</span></span> -<span class="i0">Or steal its sentiments, and call them mine!  }</span> -</div></div> - -<p class="space-above2"><b>THE BIRTH OF FLATTERY</b>. ‘Original MS.’ readings given -as footnotes in Life and Poems (1834).</p> - -<p><i>Instead of</i> ll. 1-9:</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Muse of my Spenser, who so well could sing</span> -<span class="i0">The Passions, and the sources whence they spring;</span> -<span class="i0">Who taught the birth, the bearings, and the ties,</span> -<span class="i0">The strong connections, nice dependencies,</span> -<span class="i0">Of these the Foes of Virtue and the Friends,</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_507" id="Page_507">[Pg 507]</a></span> -<span class="i0">With whom she rises and with whom descends—</span> -<span class="i0">A Syren’s birth, a Syren’s power I trace,</span> -<span class="i0">Aid me, oh! Herald of the Fairy-race;</span> -<span class="i0">Say whence she sprang, to what strange fortune born,</span> -<span class="i0">And why we love and hate, desire and scorn.</span> -</div></div> - -<p><i>instead of</i> ll. 29-40:</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">From whom she sprang, not one around her knew,</span> -<span class="i0">Nor why she came, nor what she had in view,</span> -<span class="i0">Labour she loved not, had no wealth in store,</span> -<span class="i0">Pursued no calling, yet was never poor,</span> -<span class="i0">A thousand gifts her various arts repaid,</span> -<span class="i0">And bounteous fairies blest the thriving maid;</span> -<span class="i0">For she had secret means of easy gains,</span> -<span class="i0">And Cunning was her name among the swains.</span> -</div></div> - -<p class="space-above2"><b>SIR EUSTACE GREY</b>. ‘Original MS.’ -readings given as footnotes in Life and Poems (1834).</p> - -<p><i>Instead of</i> ll. 29-32:</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The worthy doctor, and a friend.</span> -<span class="i0">’Tis more than kind to visit one</span> -<span class="i0">Who has not now to spare or spend.</span> -</div></div> - -<p><i>instead of</i> l. 75:</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Worms, doctor, worms, and so are we.</span> -</div></div> - -<p><i>instead of</i> ll. 100-7:</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Madman! shall He who made this all,</span> -<span class="i0">The parts that form the whole reject?</span> -<span class="i0">Is aught with him so great or small,</span> -<span class="i0">He cannot punish or protect?</span> -<span class="i0">Man’s folly may his crimes neglect,</span> -<span class="i0">And hope the eye of God to shun;</span> -<span class="i0">But there’s of all the account correct—</span> -<span class="i0">Not one omitted—no, not one.</span> -</div></div> - -<p><i>instead of</i> ll. 144-7:</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Nay, frown not—chide not—but allow</span> -<span class="i0">Pity to one so sorely tried:</span> -<span class="i0">But I am calm—to fate I bow</span> -<span class="i0">And all the storms of life abide.</span> -</div></div> - -<p><i>instead of</i> ll. 260-7:</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Ills that no medicines can heal,</span> -<span class="i0">And griefs that no man can forget;</span> -<span class="i0">Whatever cares the mind can fret,</span> -<span class="i0">The spirits wear, the bosom gall—</span> -<span class="i0">Pain, hunger, prison, duns, and debt</span> -<span class="i0">Foul-fiends and fear,—I’ve felt ye all.</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_508" id="Page_508">[Pg 508]</a></span> -</div></div> - -<p class="space-above2"><b>THE HALL OF JUSTICE</b>. ‘Original MS.’ -readings given as footnotes in Life and Poems (1834).</p> - -<p class="center">Part I.</p> - -<p><i>Instead of</i> ll. 9-12:</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">What is my crime? a deed of love;</span> -<span class="i0">I fed my child with pilfer’d food:</span> -<span class="i0">Your laws will not the act approve,</span> -<span class="i0">The law of Nature deems it good.</span> -</div></div> - -<p><i>instead of</i> ll. 43-6:</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">My years, indeed, are sad and few,</span> -<span class="i0">Though weak these limbs, and shrunk this frame:</span> -<span class="i0">For Grief has done what Time should do;</span> -<span class="i0">And I am old in care and shame.</span> -</div></div> - -<p class="center">Part II.</p> - -<p><i>instead of</i> ll. 29-34:</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Compell’d to feast in full delight</span> -<span class="i0">When I was sad and wanted power,</span> -<span class="i0">Can I forget that dismal night?</span> -<span class="i0">Ah! how did I survive the hour?</span> -</div></div> - -<p><i>instead of</i> ll. 39-41:</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And there my father-husband stood—</span> -<span class="i0">I felt no words can tell you how—</span> -<span class="i0">As he was wont in angry mood,</span> -<span class="i0">And thus he cried, “Will God allow,</span> -</div></div> - -<p>Preface: p. 92, l. 21. <i>The following footnote to the words</i>, -His Dedication, <i>was omitted in Vol. I</i>: Neither of these were -adopted. The author had written, about that time, some verses to the -memory of Lord Robert Manners, brother to the late Duke of Rutland; -and these, by a junction, it is presumed, not forced or unnatural, -form the concluding part of “The Village.”</p> - -<p class="center space-above2 space-below2">END OF VOL. II.</p> - -<p class="center">CAMBRIDGE: PRINTED BY JOHN CLAY, M.A., AT THE UNIVERSITY PRESS.</p> -<hr class="full" /> - -<div class="footnotes"> -<p class=" f150 u"><b>Footnotes</b></p> - -<div class="footnote"><p> -<a name="Footnote_1_1" id="Footnote_1_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_1"> -<span class="label">[1]</span></a> Midsummer Night’s Dream, Act V. Scene 1.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"><p> -<a name="Footnote_2_2" id="Footnote_2_2"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_2"> -<span class="label">[2]</span></a> -The reader will perceive in these and the preceding verses allusions -to the state of France, as that country was circumstanced some years -since, rather than as it appears to be in the present date; several -years elapsing between the alarm of the loyal magistrate on the -occasion now related, and a subsequent event that farther illustrates -the remark with which the narrative commences.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"><p> -<a name="Footnote_3_3" id="Footnote_3_3"></a><a href="#FNanchor_3_3"> -<span class="label">[3]</span></a> -Allusion is here made, not to the well-known species -of <i>sumach,</i> called the poison-oak, or <i>toxicodendron</i>, -but to the <i>upas</i>, or poison-tree of Java; whether it be real -or imaginary, this is no proper place for inquiry.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"><p> -<a name="Footnote_4_4" id="Footnote_4_4"></a><a href="#FNanchor_4_4"> -<span class="label">[4]</span></a> This appellation is here used not -ironically, nor with malignity; but it is taken merely to designate a -morosely devout people, with peculiar austerity of manners.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"><p> -<a name="Footnote_5_5" id="Footnote_5_5"></a><a href="#FNanchor_5_5"> -<span class="label">[5]</span></a> -As the author’s purpose in this Tale may be mistaken, he wishes to -observe, that conduct like that of the lady’s here described must -be meritorious or censurable just as the motives to it are pure or -selfish; that these motives may in a great measure be concealed from -the mind of the agent; and that we often take credit to our virtue -for actions which spring originally from our tempers, inclinations, -or our indifference. It cannot therefore be improper, much less -immoral, to give an instance of such self-deception.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"><p> -<a name="Footnote_6_6" id="Footnote_6_6"></a><a href="#FNanchor_6_6"> -<span class="label">[6]</span></a> -The ditches of a fen so near the ocean are lined with -irregular patches of a coarse and stained lava; a muddy sediment -rests on the horse-tail and other perennial herbs, which in part -conceal the shallowness of the stream; a fat-leaved pale-flowering -scurvy-grass appears early in the year, and the razor-edged -bull-rush in the summer and autumn. The fen itself has a dark and -saline herbage; there are rushes and <i>arrow-head</i>, and in a few -patches the flakes of the cotton-grass are seen, but more commonly -the <i>sea-aster</i>, the dullest of that numerous and hardy genus; a -<i>thrift</i>, blue in flower, but withering and remaining withered -till the winter scatters it; the <i>saltwort</i>, both simple and -shrubby; a few kinds of grass changed by their soil and atmosphere, -and low plants of two or three denominations undistinguished in a -general view of the scenery;—such is the vegetation of the fen when -it is at a small distance from the ocean; and in this case there -arise from it effluvia strong and peculiar, half-saline, half-putrid, -which would be considered by most people as offensive, and by some -as dangerous; but there are others to whom singularity of taste or -association of ideas has rendered it agreeable and pleasant.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"><p> -<a name="Footnote_7_7" id="Footnote_7_7"></a><a href="#FNanchor_7_7"> -<span class="label">[7]</span></a> -Fasil was a rebel chief, and Michael the general of the -royal army in Abyssinia, when Mr. Bruce visited that country. In all -other respects their characters were nearly similar. They are both -represented as cruel and treacherous; and even the apparently strong -distinction of loyal and rebellious is in a great measure set aside, -when we are informed that Fasil was an open enemy, and Michael an -insolent and ambitious controller of the royal person and family.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"><p> -<a name="Footnote_8_8" id="Footnote_8_8"></a><a href="#FNanchor_8_8"> -<span class="label">[8]</span></a> -The sovereign here meant is the Haroun Alraschid, or Harun al -Rashid, who died early in the ninth century; he is often the -hearer, and sometimes the hero, of a tale in the Arabian Nights’ -Entertainments.</p></div> -</div> - -<div class="transnote bbox"> -<p class="f120 space-above1">Transcriber's Notes:</p> -<hr class="r5" /> -<p class="indent">Antiquated spellings have been preserved.</p> -<p class="indent">Typographical errors have been silently corrected but other variations - in spelling and punctuation remain unaltered.</p> -<p class="indent">Where double quotes have been repeated at the beginnings of - consecutive stanzas, they have been omitted for clarity.</p> -</div> - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Poems, Volume 2 (of 3), by George Crabbe - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK POEMS, VOLUME 2 (OF 3) *** - -***** This file should be named 51003-h.htm or 51003-h.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/1/0/0/51003/ - -Produced by Paul Marshall and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images generously made available by The -Internet Archive/Million Book Project) - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law 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. 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