Creeds to reject, pretensions to deride, If to his bosom fear a visit paid, Such was the speech; it struck upon the ear Hence sprang his orders ; not that he desired Ruled every heart, and moved each subject hand “A farmer this !" they said ; “O! let him seek Assent he ask'd for every word and whim, That place where he may for his country speak ; To prove that he alone was king of him. On some great question to harangue for hours, The still Rebecca, who her station knew, While speakers hearing, envy nobler powers !" With ease resign'd the honours not her due ; Wisdom like this, as all things rich and rare, Well pleased, she saw that men her board would Must lie acquired with pains, and kept with care ; grace, In books he sought it, which his friends might view, And wish'd not there to see a female face; When their kind host the guarding curtain drew. When by her lover she his spouse was styled, There were historic works for graver hours, Polite she thought it, and demurely smiled ; And lighter verse, to spur the languid powers; But when he wanted wives and maidens round There metaphysics, logic there had place; So to regard her, she grew grave and frown'd: But of devotion not a single trace And sometimes whisper'd, “Why should you respect Save what is taught in Gibbon's florid page, These people's notions, yet their forms reject ?" And other guides of this inquiring age; Gwyn, though from marriage bond and fetter free, There Hume appear'd, and ne a splendid book Still felt abridgement in his liberty ; Composed by Gay's good lord of Boling broke : Something of hesitation he betray'd, With these were mix'd the light, the free, the vain, And in her presence thought of what he said. And from a corner peep'd the sage Tom Paine : Thus fair Rebecca, though she walk'd astray, Here four neat volumes Chesterfield were named, His creed rejecting, judged it right to pray ; For manners much and easy morals famed ; To be at church, to sit with serious looks, With chaste Memoirs of Females, to be read To read her Bible and her Sunday books : When deeper studies had confused the head. She hated all those new and daring themes, Such his resources, treasures where he songht And call'd his free conjectures, “ devil's dreams :" For daily knowledge till his mind was fraught: She honour'd still the priesthood in her fall, Then when his friends were present, for their use And claim'd respect and reverence for them all; He would the riches he had stored produce ; Call’d them “ of sin's destructive power the foes, He found his lamp burn clearer, when each day And not such blockheads as he might suppose.". He drew for all he purposed to display: Gwyn to his friends would smile, and sometimes say For these occasions, torth his knowledge sprung, «'Tis a kind fool, why vex her in her way ?" As mustard quickens on a bed of dung ; Her way she took, and still had more in view, All was prepared, and guests allow'd the praise, For she contrived that he should take it 100. For what they saw he could so quickly raise. The daring freedom of his soul, 'twas plain, Such this new friend ; and when the year camc In part was lost in a divided reign ; round, A king and queen, who yet in prudence swayed The same impressive, reasoning sage was found; Their peaceful state, and were in turn obey'd. Then, 100, was seen the pleasant mansion graced Yet such our fate, that when we plan the best, With a fair damsel-his no vulgar taste; Something arises to disturb our rest : The neat Rebecca—sly, observant, still, For though in spirits high, in body strong, Watching his eye, and waiting on his will ; Gwyn something felt-he knew not whatSimple yet smart her dress, her manners meek, wrong: Her smiles spoke for her, she would seldorn speak; He wish'd to know. for he believed the thing, But watch'd each look, each meaning to detect, If unrernoved, would other evil bring : And (pleased with notice) felt for all neglect. “She must perceive, of late he could not eat, With her lived Gwyn a sweet harmonious life, And when he walked, he trembled on his feet; Who, forms excepted, was a charming wife : He had forebodings, and he seem'd as one The wives indeed, so made by vulgar law, Stopp'd on the road, or threaten’d by a dun; Affected scorn, and censured what they saw; He could not live, and yet, should he apply And what they saw not, fancied ; said 'twas sin, To those physicians-he must sooner die." And took no notice of the wife of Gwyn : The mild Rebecca heard with some disdain, But he despised their rudeness, and would prove And some distress, her friend and lord complain: Theirs was compulsion and distrust, not love ; His death she fear'd not, but had painful doubt “ Fools as they were! could they conceive that What his distemper'd nerves might bring about; rings With power like hers she dreaded an ally, And parsons' blessings were substantial things ?" And yet there was a person in her eye ;They answered “ Yes;" while he contemptuous She thought, debated, fix'd ; “ Alas !" she said, spoke "A case like yours must be no more delay'd : of the low notions held by simple folk; You hate these doctors, well! but were a friend Yet, strange that anger in a man so wise And doctor one, your fears would have an end · Should from the notions of these fools arise ; My cousin Mollet-Scotland holds him nowCan they so vex us, whom we so despise ? Is above all men skilful, all allow ; Brave as he was, our hero felt a dread Of late a doctor, and within a while Lest those who saw him kind should think him led ; | He means to settle in this favour'd isle ; a . Should he attend you, with his skill profound, But where such friends in every care unite When men in health against physicians rail, Now Gwyn a sultan bade affairs adieu, When wintry winds with leaves bestrew'd the ground, He heard, and he rejoiced : "Ah! let him come, Diseases, famines, perils new and old ; With such attention who could long be ill? These inward griefs and troubles of the soul ? What must I do, Rebecca ?” She proposed To a proud priest ?—“ No! him have I defied, But one there is, and if report be just, To gain his purpose he perform'd the part A wise good man, whom I may safely trust : Who from house to house, from ear to ear, Not like a traveller in a day serene, To make his truths, his gospel truths, appear; Send for that man, and if report be just, I, like Cornelius, will the teacher trust; But in a season when the sharp east wind But if deceiver, I the vile deceit Shall soon discover, and discharge the cheat." My books, perhaps," the wavering mortal cried, The doctor spoke, and, as the patient heard, And to my soul the pious man may bring The cousins met, what pass'd with Gwyn was told ['pon his nerves that he could not express ; Alas!" the doctor said, “ how hard to hold For while so strong these new-born fancies reigo, Thus Gwyn was happy; he had now a friend, And this will place him in the power of one Where he beheld and grew in dread of sin; Then to a Baptists' meeting found his way, 了 A love of presents, and of lofty praise Thus sees a peasant with discernment nice, For his meek spirit and his humble ways ; A love of power, conceit, and avarice. Gwyn And o'er his purse the lady takes control; And fair Rebecca leads a virtuous life- TALE IV. PROCRASTINATION. Heaven witness With Gwyn, and every rival power expel, I have been to you ever true and humble. (A dubious point,) yet be, with every care, Henry VIII. act iv. sc. 4. Might soon the lot of the rejected share ; Gentle lady, And other Wisps he found like him to reign, When first I did nopart my love to you, And then be thrown upon the world again. I freely told you all the wealth I had. He thought it prudent then, and felt it just, Merchant of Venice, act iii. sc. 2 The present guides of his new friend to trust; The fatal time True, he conceived, to touch the harder heart Cuts off all ceremonies and vows of love, of the cool doctor, was beyond his art; And ainple interchange of sweet discourse, But mild Rebecca he could surely sway, Which so long sunder'd friends should dwell upon. Richard III. act v. sc. 3. While Gwyn would follow where she led the I know thee not, old inan; fall to thy prayers. way : Henry IV. Part 2, act 8. sc. 5. So to do good, (and why a duty shun, Farewell Because rewarded for the good when done ?) Thou pure impicty, thou impious purity, Much Ado aboui Nothing, act iv. sc. 2. When Gwyn his message to the teacher sent, Will turn to scom, indifference, or esteem: Others, ill match'd, with minds unpair'd repent On Wisp they seem'd to look with jealous eye, At once the deed and know no more content; And fair Rebecca was demure and shy ; From joy to anguish they, in haste, decline, But by degrees the teacher's worth they knew, And with their fondness, their esteem resign: And were so kind, they seem'd converted too. More luckless süll their fate, who are the prey Wisp took occasion to the nymph to say, Of long protracted hope and dull delay; “ You must be married: will you name the day?" | 'Mid plans of bliss the heavy hours pass on, She smiled, --" 'Tis well; but should he not com- Till love is wither'd, and till joy is gone. ply, This gentle flame two youthful hearts possessid, Is it quite sase th' experiment to try ?" The sweet disturber of unenvied rest : “ My child,” the teacher said, “ who feels remorse, The prudent Dinah was the maid beloved, (And feels not he?) must wish relief of course ; And the kind Rupert was the swain approved : And can he find it, while he fears the crime ?- A wealthy aunt her gentle niece sustain'd, You must be married ; will you name the time?" He, with a father, at his desk remain’d; Glad was the patron as a man could be, The youthful couple, to their vows sincere, Yet marvell'd 100, to find his guides agree; Thus loved expectant; year succeding year, “But what the cause ?" he cried ; " 'tis genuine With pleasant views and hopes, but not a prospect love for me.” Upon her anxious looks the widow smiled, Nor would his son encourage or reject; Where cruel aunts impatient girls refused ; near. While hers, though teasing, boasted to be kind, Now the grave niece partook the widow's cares Look’d to the great and ruled the small affairs ; Th’indulgent aunt increased the maid's delight, By placing tokens of her wealth in sight; This passion grew, and gain’d at length such sway, Servant, and nurse, and comforter, and friend, Romantic notions now the heart forsook, She read but seldom, and she changed her book : The cautious doctor saw the case was clear, The widow rests beneath the sculptured stones, Yet, if a trouble, she resolved to take She too was heiress to the widow's taste, Sometimes the past would on her mind intrude, Ilis worth she knew, but doubted his success ; of old she saw him heedless : what the boy * His friends were kind, and he believed them Forebore to save, the man would not enjoy ; true." Oft had he lost the chance that care would seize, spent This hope, these comforts, cherish'd day by day, She knew that mothers grieved, and widows wept, And she was sorry, said her prayers, and slept : Thus pass'd the seasons, and to Dinah's board As love of Rapert, in the virgin's heart. Gave what the seasons to the rich afford ; Whether it be that tender passions fail, For she indulged, nor was her heart so small, From their own nature, while the strong prevail ; That one strong passion should engross il all. Or whether avarice, like the poison tree, A love of splendour now with avarice strove, Kilts all beside it, and alone will be ; And oft appeared to be the stronger love: A secret pleasure fill'd the widow's breast, In small but splendid room she loved to see That all was placed in view and harmony; Allusion is here made, not to the well known species There, as with eager glance she look'd around, of sumech, called the poison-oak, or toxicodendron, but She much delight in every object found; to the upus, or poison tree of Java : whether it be real While books devout were near her-lo destroy or imaginary, this is no proper place for inquiry. Should it arise, an overflow of joy. 66 66 Within that fair apartment, guests might see We parted bless'd with health, and I am now The comforts cull'd for wealth by vanity: Age-struck and feeble, so I find art thou ; Around the room an Indian paper blazed, Thine eye is sunken, furrow'd is thy face, With lively tint and figures boldly raised : And downward look'st thou—so we run our race : Silky and soft upon the floor below, And happier they, whose race is nearly run, Th' elastic carpet rose with crimson glow, Their troubles over, and their duties done." All things around implied both cost and care, " True, lady, true, we are not girl and boy; What met the eye was elegant or rare : But time has left us something to enjoy.". Some curious trifles round the room were laid, " What! thou hast learn'd my fortune ?--yes, I By hope presented to the wealthy maid ; live Within a costly case of varnish'd wood, To feel how poor the comforts wealth can give ; In level rows her polish'd volumes stood ; Thou too, perhaps, art wealthy ; but our fate Shown as a favour to a chosen few, Still mocks our wishes, wealth is come too late." To prove what beauty for a book could do: “ To me nor late nor early; I am come A silver urn with curious work was fraught ; Pour as I left thee to my native home : A silver lamp from Grecian pattern wrought: Nor yet,” said Rupert, “ will I grieve ; ’lis mine Above her head, all gorgeous to behold, To share thy comforts, and the glory thine ; A time-piece stood on feet of burnish'd gold ; For thou wilt gladly take that generous part A stag's head crest adorn'd the pictured case, That both exalts and gratifies the heart ;* Through the pure crystal shone ih' enamell'd face : While mine rejoices.”—“ Heavens !" return'd the And while on brilliants moved the hands of steel, maid, It click'd from prayer to prayer, from meal to meal. “ This talk to one so wither'd and decay'd ? Here as the lady sate, a friendly pair No! all my care is now to fit my mind Stept in t admire the view, and took their chair: For other spousal, and to die resign d : They then related how the young and gay As friend and neighbour, 1 shall hope to see Were thoughtless wandering in the broad highway; These noble views, this pious love in thee; How tender damsels sail'd in tilted boats, That we together may the change await, And laugh'd with wicked men in scarlet coats ; Guides and spectators in each other's fate ; And how we live in such degenerate times, When fellow pilgrims, we shall daily crave That men conceal their wants and show their The mutual prayer that arms us for the grave." crimes ; Half angry, hall in doubt, the lover gazed While vicious deeds are screen’d by fashion's name, On the meek maiden, by her speech amazed : And what was once our pride is now our shame. Dinah," said he, “ dost thou respect thy vows ? Dinah was musing, as her friends discoursed, What spousal mean'st thou !-thou art Rupert's When these last words a sudden entrance forced spouse: Upon her mind, and what was once her pride The chance is mine to take, and thine to give, And now her shame, some painful views supplied ; Bui, trifling this, if we together live: Thoughts of the past within her bosom press'd, Can I believe, that, after all the past, And there a change was felt, and was confessid : Our vows, our loves, thou wilt be false at last? While thus the virgin strove with secret pain, Something thou hast-I know not what-in view, Her mind was wandering o'er the troubled main; I find thee pious-let me find thee true." Still she was silent, nothing seem'd to see, “Ah! cruel this; but do, my friend, depart, But sate and sigh'd in pensive revery. And to its feelings leave my wounded heart.” The friends prepared new subjects to begin, · Nay, speak at once; and, Dinah, let me know, When tall Susannah, maiden starch, stalk'd in ; Mean'st thou to take me, now I'm wreck’d, in Not in her ancient mode, sedate and slow, tow? As when she came, the mind she knew, to know; Be fair; nor longer keep me in the dark ; Nor as, when listening half an hour before, Am I forsaken for a trimmer spark? She twice or thrice tapp'd gently at the door ; Heaven's spouse thou art not: nor can I believe But, all decorum cast in wrath aside, That God accepts her who will man deceive: "I think the devil's in the man!" she cried ; True I am shatter'd, I have service seen, “ A huge tall sailor, with his tawny cheek, And service done, and have in trouble been ; And pitted face, will with my lady speak; My cheek (it shames me not) has lost its red, He grinn'd an ugly smile, and said he knew, And the brown buff is o'er my features spread; Please you, my lady, 'twould be joy to yon ; Perchance my speech is rude ; for I among What must I answer?"-Trembling and distress'd Th’untamed have been, in temper and in tongue , Sank the pale Dinah, by her fears oppress'd ; Have been trepann'd, have lived in toil and care, When thus alarm'd, and brooking no delay, And wrought for wealth I was not doom'd to share. Swifi to her room the stranger made his way. It touch'd me deeply, for I felt a pride " Revive, my love!” said he, “ I've done thee In gaining riches for my destined bride : harm, Speak then my fate ; for these my sorrows past, Give me thy pardon," and he look'd alarm : Time lost, youth fled, hope wearied, and at last Meantime the prudent Dinah had contrived This doubt of thee-a childish thing to tell, Her soul to question, and she then revived. But certain truth-my very throat they swell ; " See! my good friend,” and then she raised her They stop the breath, and but for shame could I head, Give way to weakness, and with passion cry ; “ The bloom of life, the strength of youth is filed; These are unmanly struggles, but I feel Living we die ; to us the world is dead; This hour must end them, and perhaps will heal. : |