But as "there's safety" grafted in the number 'Midst many rocks we guard more against wrecks; And thus with women: howsoe'er it shocks some's Self-love, there's safety in a crowd of coxcombs. XXXI. But Adeline had not the least occasion For such a shield, which leaves but little merit Her chief resource was in her own high spirit, To all she was polite without parade; To some she show'd attention of that kind In such a sort as cannot leave behind Which is in all respects, save now and then, Who were or are the puppet-shows of praise, On the most favour'd; and amidst the blaze XXXIV. There also was of course in Adeline That calm patrician polish in the address, Which ne'er can pass the equinoctial line Of any thing which nature would express; Just as a mandarin finds nothing fine, At least his manner suffers not to guess, That any thing he views can greatly please. Perhaps we have borrow'd this from the ChineseXXXV. Perhaps from Horace: his " Nil admirari" 1 Was what he call'd the "Art of Happiness; [See antè, p. 661.] 2 ["The creed of Zoroaster, which naturally occurs to unassisted reason as a mode of accounting for the mingled existence of good and evil in the visible world, that belief which, in one modification or another, supposes the coexistence of a benevolent and malevolent principle, which contend together without either being able decisively to prevail over his antagonist, leads the fear and awe deeply impressed on the human mind to the worship as well of the However, 'tis expedient to be wary: Indifference certes don't produce distress; And rash enthusiasm in good society Were nothing but a moral inebriety. XXXVI. But Adeline was not indifferent: for (Now for a common-place !) beneath the snow, As a volcano holds the lava more Within-et cætera. Shall I go on ?—No! I hate to hunt down a tired metaphor, So let the often-used volcano go. Poor thing! How frequently, by me and others, I'll have ano.her figure in a trice: What say you to a bottle of champagne ? Frozen into a very vinous ice, Which leaves few drops of that immortal rain, About a liquid glassful will remain ; XXXVIII. 'Tis the whole spirit brought to a quintessence; And thus the chilliest aspects may concentre A hidden nectar under a cold presence. And such are many-though I only meant her From whom I now deduce these moral lessons, On which the Muse has always sought to enter. And your cold people are beyond all price, When once you have broken their confounded ice. XXXIX. But after all they are a North-West Passage And young beginners may as well commence The dreary "Fuimus" of all things human, XLL But heaven must be diverted; its diversion author of evil, so tremendous in all the effects of which credulity accounts him the primary cause, as to that of his great opponent, who is loved and adored as the father of all that is good and bountiful. Nay, such is the timid servility of human nature, that the worshippers will neglect the altar of the Author of good, rather than that of Arimanes; trusting with indifference to the well-known mercy of the one, while they shrink from the idea of irritating the vengeful jealousy of the awful father of evil." SIR WALTER SCOTT: Demonology, p. 88.] XLII. The English winter-ending in July, To recommence in August-now was done. 'Tis the postilion's paradise: wheels fly; On roads, east, south, north, west, there is a run. But for post-horses who finds sympathy? Man's pity's for himself, or for his son, Always premising that said son at college Has not contracted much more debt than knowledge. The London winter's ended in July— For parliament is our barometer: When its quicksilver's down at zero,-lo! And happiest they who horses can engage; Ere patriots their true country can remember; - I've done with my tirade. The world was gone; Lord Henry and the Lady Adeline Departed like the rest of their compeers, The peerage, to a mansion very fine; The Gothic Babel of a thousand years. None than themselves could boast a longer line, Where time through heroes and through beauties And oaks as olden as their pedigree Told of their sires, a tomb in every tree. LI. A paragraph in every paper told Of their departure: such is modern fame: 'Tis pity that it takes no farther hold [steers; As thus: "On Thursday there was a grand dinner; Column; date, "Falmouth. There has lately been here To Norman Abbey whirl'd the noble pair, night-cap-hence that self-reproaching melancholy which was eternally crossing and unnerving him, hence the dark heaving of soul with which he must have written, in his Italian villeggiatura, this glorious description of his own lost ancestral seat.-LOCKILART, 1824.] Few specimens yet left us can compare Withal: it lies perhaps a litte low, Because the monks preferr'd a hill behind, To shelter their devotion from the wind. 2 LVI. It stood embosom'd in a happy valley, Crown'd by high woodlands, where the Druid oak Stood like Caractacus in act to rally His host, with broad arms 'gainst the thunderstroke; And from beneath his boughs were seen to sally Before the mansion lay a lucid lake, 4 Broad as transparent, deep, and freshly fed By a river, which its soften'd way did take In currents through the calmer water spread Around the wildfowl nestled in the brake And sedges, brooding in their liquid bed: The woods sloped downwards to its brink, and stood With their green faces fix'd upon the flood. ["The front of Newstead Abbey has a most noble and majestic appearance; being built in the form of the west end of a cathedral, adorned with rich carvings and lofty pinnacles." Art. Newstead, in Beauties of England, vol. xii.] 2 ["How sweetly in front looked the transparent water, and the light of religious remains (equalled by no architecture scarcely in the kingdom, except that of York cathedral), backed by the most splendid field beauties, diversified by the swells of the earth on which they were rooted!" THOROTON's Nottinghamshire.] 3["The beautiful park of Newstede, which once was richly ornamented with two thousand seven hundred head of deer, and numberless fine-spreading oaks, is now divided and subdivided into farms."- Ibid.] But these had fallen, not when the friars fell, But in the war which struck Charles from his throne, When each house was a fortalice — as tell But in a higher niche, alone, but crown'd, A mighty window, hollow in the centre, The owl his anthem, where the silenced quire LXIII. But in the noontide of the moon, and when The wind is winged from one point of heaven, There moans a strange unearthly sound, which then Is musical a dying accent driven Through the huge arch, which soars and sinks again. LXIV. Others, that some original shape, or form Shaped by decay perchance, hath given the power (Though less than that of Memnon's statue 7, warm In Egypt's rays, to harp at a fix'd hour) To this grey ruin, with a voice to charm Sad, but serene, it sweeps over tree or tower; The cause I know not, nor can solve; but such The fact: I've heard it, once perhaps too much 8 the middle whereof is the Virgin Mary with Babe or."THOROTON.] 7 [The history of this wonderful statue seems to be simply this: Herodotus, when he went into Egypt, was shown the fragments of a colossus, thrown down some years before by Cambyses. This he calls Memnon: but says not a syllable respecting its emitting a vocal sound; a prodigy which appears to have been an after-thought of the priests of Thebes. The upper part of this statue has been covered by the sand for many ages; it is that which yet remains on its pedestal which performs the wonders mentioned by so many travellers. In a word, the whole appears to have been a trick, not ill adapted to such a place as Egypt, where men went, and still go, with a face of foolish wonderment, predisposed to swallow the grossest absurdities. The sound (for some sound there was), I incline to think, with De Pauw, proceeded from an excavation near the plinth, the sides of which might be struck, at a preconcerted moment, with a bar of sonorous metal. Even Savary, who saw nothing but prodigies in Egypt, treats this foolish affair as an artifice of the priests. So much for the harp of Memnon!- GIFFORD. See also Sir David Brew. ster's Natural Magic, p. 234.] 8["Next to the apartment called King Edward the Third's room, on account of that monarch having slept there, is the sounding gallery,- so called from a very remarkable echo which it possesses." - Art. Newstead, in Beauties of England, vol. xii.] 1 ["From the windows of the gallery over the cloisters, we see the cloister court, with a basin in the centre, used as a stew for fish, &c."- Art. Newstead, in Beauties of England, vol. xii.] 2 ["The cloisters exactly resemble those of Westminster Abbey, only on a smaller scale; but possessing, if possible, a more venerable appearance. These were the cloisters of the ancient abbey, and many of its ancient tenants now lie in silent repose under the flagged pavement. The ancient There rose a Carlo Dolce or a Titian, Or wilder group of savage Salvatore's: 3 Here danced Albano's boys, and here the sea shone In Vernet's ocean lights; and there the stories Of martyrs awed, as Spagnoletto tainted His brush with all the blood of all the sainted. LXXII. Here sweetly spread a landscape of Lorraine ; Bronzed o'er some lean and stoic anchorite : His bell-mouth'd goblet makes me feel quite Danish + Or Dutch with thirst— What, ho! a flask of Rhenish. LXXIII. O reader! if that thou canst read, — and know, Virtues of which both you and I have need. That clause is hard); and secondly, proceed; Thirdly, commence not with the end—or, sinning In this sort, end at least with the beginning. LXXIV. But, reader, thou hast patient been of late, While I, without remorse of rhyme, or fear, Have built and laid out ground at such a rate, Dan Phoebus takes me for an auctioneer. That poets were so from their earliest date, By Homer's" catalogue of ships" is clear; But a mere modern must be moderateI spare you then the furniture and plate. LXXV. The mellow autumn came, and with it came The pointer ranges, and the sportsman beats Full grows his bag, and wonderful his feats. Ah, nutbrown partridges! Ah, brilliant pheasants! And ah, ye poachers T is no sport for peasants. LXXVI. An English autumn, though it hath no vines, LXXVIL Then, if she hath not that serene decline The season, rather than to winter drear,— chapel, too, is still entire; its ceiling is a very handsome specimen of the Gothic style of springing arches." Art. Newstead, in Beauties of England, vol. xii.] 3 Salvator Rosa ["Whate'er Lorraine light touch'd with softening hue, Or savage Rosa dash'd, or learned Poussin drew." THOMSON's Castle of Indolence.] 4 If I err not," your Dane" is one of lago's catalogue of nations" exquisite in their drinking." CANTO XIII. LXXIX. The noble guests, assembled at the Abbey, The Duchess of Fitz-Fulke; the Countess Crabby; Who look'd a white lamb, yet was a black sheep: With other Countesses of Blank - but rank; All purged and pious from their native clouds; Or paper turn'd to money by the Bank: No matter how or why, the passport shrouds The "passée" and the past; for good society Is no less famed for tolerance than piety, LXXXL That is, up to a certain point; which point On which it hinges in a higher station; Thee, witch!"4 or each Medea has her Jason; Or (to the point with Horace and with Pulci) "Omne tulit punctum, quæ miscuit utile dulci." LXXXII. I can't exactly trace their rule of right, Which hath a little leaning to a lottery. I've seen a virtuous woman put down quite By the mere combination of a coterie; Also a so-so matron boldly fight Her way back to the world by dint of plottery, And shine the very Siria 5 of the spheres, Escaping with a few slight, scarless sneers. LXXXIII. I have seen more than I'll say:-but we will see How our villeggiatura will get on. The party might consist of thirty-three Of highest caste-the Brahmins of the ton. I have named a few, not foremost in degree, But ta'en at hazard as the rhyme may run. There were four Honourable Misters, whose But the clubs found it rather serious laughter, There was Dick Dubious, the metaphysician, Sir Henry Silvercup, the great race-winner. There was Jack Jargon, the gigantic guardsman; quarters of the English chase, see Quarterly Review, vol. xlvii. p. 216.] 4 ["Aroint thee, witch! the rump-fed ronyon cries."Macbeth.] 5 Siria, i. e. bitch-star. 6 [George Hardinge, Esq., M.P., one of the Welsh judges, died in 1816. His works were collected, in 1818, by Mr. Nichols.] |