Will he open his dull eyes, When tears fall on his brow? Behold! the death-worm, to his heart, Is a nearer thing than thou, Margret, Margret !" Her face was on the ground, None saw the agony; But the men at sea, did that night agree Fast rolled the river's tide With the green trees waving overhead, Margret, Margret! A knight's blood-hound, and he, And he turnéd round, to stroke the hound, A fair child kissed the dead, And started from its cold, And alone, yet proudly, in his hall, Margret, Margret! Hang up mine harp again, I have no voice for song; Not song, but wail-and mourners pale, Oh! failing human love, Oh! light, by darkness known! Oh! false, the while thou treadest earth, Oh! deaf, beneath the stone! Margret, Margret! No friends! no name but His, Whose name, as Love appears,— Look up to heaven, as God's forgiven, And see it not for tears! Yet see with spirit-sight Th eternal Friend, undim Who died for love, and joins above E. B. B. STEEPLE HUNTING. CHAPTER I. ONE of those manias which from time to time run riot with "John Bull," and divert that worthy grumbler from the contemplation of his grievances, has recently attacked him, somewhat severely, in the guise of a steeple-chase. Vainly did the farmer swear, as he saw his freshlyploughed fields torn up in all directions by a horde of the most reckless intruders;-idly did the grazier mourn over dismembered gates, scattered sheep, and shattered fences;-unheeded did the "little tenants " implore, and the "large tenants "threaten ;-the band of horsemen swept onward, and defied opposition. In some instances, the results have been sufficiently disastrous. One fat rector was rode over, and carried home lifeless on a shutter. Another elderly gentleman, who came on the field as a spectator, was elbowed into a deep ditch, where he lay for an hour, and during that period had the pleasure of seeing his five sons take their flying leaps over him. A maiden "gentlewoman, of considerable experience," who was tempted by the occasion to make her appearance at the Melton Mowbray steeple-chase, was driven, by the rush of riders, into a quickset hedge, whence, after forty minutes' struggle, she emerged with one shoe and three parts of a stocking, the crown and one string of her bonnet, the front breadth of her gown, and the tip of her boa, -a melancholy and most instructive example of the "pursuit of amusement under difficulties!" She declared, with the most earnest and touching sincerity, as she regained the turf, that she was "pricked to the quick by her misfortunes." Alas! where was the ardour of Captain Prinsep-where the well-known gallantry of Colonel Peelthat it did not bring them to the relief of a damsel so uneasily circumstanced? But the practice is far more general than is at first supposed. There is a class of grave-looking gentlemen who go steeple-hunting all their days. Their uniform, as to coat and vest, is black; and their continuations invisible green or Oxford grey. They muster strong on field-days; and the ardour with which they lie on the scent is at once edifying and exemplary. Bishop P- was indisputably a steeple-hunter when he wrote, first against, and then for, the Papists. The late Dr. Gwas a steeple-hunter of no common nerve when he handed over to the celebrated Mrs. Mary Anne Clarke two halves of two 5007. notes, to secure her influence in procuring him a vacant mitre. The learned minor canon who wrote, a year or two since, a ponderous quarto, entitled "Bishops the Bulwarks of the English Church," was clearly a steeple-hunter; and the renowned Mr. Gathercole, beneath whose lash the Dissenters rebel, and in the thunder of whose anathemas learned prelates exult, belongs, incontrovertibly, to the same section of the sporting community. Best of readers! I have also, in my time, been a steeple-hunter! With what success, you must judge. For fourteen years of my life I belonged to the class now commonly known by the name of meritorious curates, that is to say, I had the sole charge of a parish of seven hundred souls, in which I had to maintain my position in society, dress like a gentleman, and relieve those. See the Bishop of London's last Charge. July.-VOL. XI.VII. NO. CLXXXVII, Ꮓ whom all spurned but myself, upon the wages of a journeyman cabinetmaker. About eighteen months previous to the expiration of this period, owing to the death of two succeeding male heirs under age, the advowson of the living on which I was curate, the estate which surrounded it, and the noble woods which embosomed it, fell into the hands of an individual who, on his entering life, had as much chance of being opulent as I have of becoming an archdeacon. To the way in which he graced his honours no words save his own can do justice. On his succeeding to the estate, he found the parish engaged in the laborious and costly enterprise of enlarging, or rather rebuilding, the church, which for years had been a "church in danger." A pew was forthwith demanded, of sufficient size to accommodate himself and his family. His request was at once attended to, and the matter considered arranged. A few weeks after, he called upon me in a perfect ferment, the perspiration standing on his brow, his eyes rolling, and every muscle in his face quivering. "Good heavens, my dear Sir! what sum do you think the parish churchwarden has charged me for my pew? I never heard of such extortion! Five pounds, as I'm a living man!" "Well, Sir, that does not appear to me unreasonable." "Not unreasonable! Are you aware of what you're saying? Not unreasonable!" "No; not for a pew capable of holding ten persons, near the reading-desk, and in the most preferable part of the church." "What has that to do with it? I tell ye its an extortionate demand. I've measured the whole pew three times over, and there isn't forty shillings'-worth of timber in it!" The pew arranged, the next affair was the erection of a monument to his father, who had been gathered to his people upwards of half a century before. The 'Squire furnished both design and inscription. The former consisted of a very corpulent female figure weeping into a little tiny urn, which it was quite evident, from the size of her tears, she would very speedily fill. This was intended to represent Virtue inconsolable for the loss of Mr. Morehouse, sen.! An immense cherub at each corner blew a trumpet with all its might, out of which proceeded the words "Faith, Hope, Meekness, Charity." The verbiage was to this effect:"To MR. MATTHIAS MOREHOUSE, The best of Fathers and most upright of Underwriters, On this monument the 'Squire used to fix his eyes during service with an expression of the most cordial complacency. His form seemed to dilate with satisfaction as he gazed on the little urn and the large lady. He prided himself on his Church of England principles, and his punctual performance of his Sabbath duties, and as he stood upright in his pew, and repeated the Belief in tones which the poor wheezy clerk tried in vain to drown, with his eyes shut, see-sawing himself upon his toes backwards and forwards, and closing each period with a solemn shake of his head,--he was, as a whole, such an exhibition as is not often seen within the walls of a country church. But the 'Squire, though deficient in taste, was not deficient in tongue; he abounded in civil speeches. We never met that he did not assure me of his zeal for my welfare, and of his wish to serve me; and so hearty and so repeated were his declarations of good-will, that I was fool enough to believe them sincere. Matters stood thus when my rector died; and knowing the 'Squire had no son, brother, nephew, or cousin to whom a benefice of 1607. could be acceptable, I ventured one morning, after he had been more than commonly profuse in his professions, to put them to the test. In a sentence, I asked him for the vacant living. He shook me cordially by the hand, called up one of his blandest smiles, and began— My dear friend, I could not think of proposing anything so paltry to your acceptance. With your grasp of intellect and moral worthdon't allude to it-it is quite beneath you-quite unworthy of you." "My expectations are very humble," was my reply; "allow me, therefore, to judge whether "No, no! don't talk of it." "I see many abler and better men worse off than myself; and the living, though small, would satisfy "I cannot hear of it. My regard for you is such that quite impossible-quite impossible." "I understand you, Sir, and construe this last sentence into a refusal." "Not exactly that; but-but-the living is gone! My butler asked and got it for some friend of his own. I believe the rascal has sold it; but that's no affair of mine. Not a single shilling will find its way into my pocket. No, no! Wou'dn't wound my conscience for all the gold of Ophir. But the bishop will provide for you. A man of your deserts and long services cannot be overlooked. You would be buried alive in this hamlet. No, no! Aspire to something better." This was a complete check: my run for the season was ended. I did not attempt another steeple-hunt for some years; in fact, I almost came to a resolution to forswear the sport altogether, and only swerved from my determination under the following circumstances. CHAPTER II. Upon the curacy to which I removed after the rebuff recorded in the last Chapter, I remained some years. My sporting days-as far, at least, as steeple-hunting was concerned-were past and over. Old men died, and young men succeeded them; but I instituted no inquirypreferred no application-and persevered in the quiet discharge of my daily duties. Yet as age silvered my brow, and my family grew up around me, and the many cares and anxieties incident to their establishment in life pressed sorely upon me-with all my acquiescence in the maxim, "whatever is, is right," and all my trust in the awards of an inflexibly just and unalterably wise Providence, a feeling of melancholy foreboding for the future would occasionally come across me. This was insensibly deepened by the spectacle daily presented to me. neighbour was a clergyman residing on a large living. He had healthhe had wealth-he had a small (and what is invaluable to a pastor,) a My next |