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Her mother loved, but was not used to grant | Her sister, reasoning, proved the promise made,
Favours so freely as her gentle aunt.-

Lucy appealing to a parent pray'd ;
Her gentle aunt, with smiles that angels wear, But all opposed th' event that she design'd,
Dispellid her Lucy's apprehensive tear :

And all in vain; she never changed her mind,
Her prudent foresight the request had made But coldly answer'd in her wonted way,
To one whom none could govern, few persuade ; That she “ would rule, and Lucy must obey."
She doubted much if one in earnest wooed

With peevish fear, she saw her health decline, A girl with not a single charm endued ;

And cried, “O! monstrous, for a man to pine; The sister's nobler views she then declared, But if your foolish heart must yield to love, And what small sum for Lucy could be spared ; Let him possess it whom I now approve; “Jf more than this the foolish priest requires,

This is my pleasure."-Still the rector came Tell him," she wrote, “ to check his vain desires." With larger offers and with bolder claim; At length, with many a cold expression mix’d, But the stern lady would attend no more ; With many a sneer on girls so fondly fix'd,

She frown'd, and rudely pointed to the door; There came a promise-should they not repent, | Whate'er he wrote, he saw unread return'd, But take with grateful minds the portion meant, And he, indignant, the dishonour spurn'd ; And wait the sister's day-the mother might con. Nay, fix'd suspicion where he might confide, sent.

And sacrificed his passion to his pride. And here, might pitying hope o'er truth prevail, Lucy, meantime, though threaten'd and distress'd Or love o'er fortune, we would end our tale: | Against her marriage made a strong protest : For who more bless'd than youthful pair removed | All was domestic war: the aunt rebellid From fear of want-by mutual friends approved Against the sovereign will, and was expellid; Short time to wait, and in that time to live

And every power was tried, and every art, With all the pleasures hope and fancy give; To bend to falsehood one determined heart; Their equal passion raised on just esteem,

Assail'd, in patience it received the shock, When reason sanctions all that love can dream? Soft as the wave, unshaken as the rock :

Yes! reason sanctions what stern fate denies : But while th' unconquer'd soul endures the storm The early prospect in the glory dies,

Of angry fate, it preys upon the form ; As the soft smiles on dying infants play

With conscious virtue she resisted still, In their mild features, and then pass away. And conscious love gave vigour to her will:

The beauty died, ere she could yield her hand But Lucy's trial was at hand; with joy In the high marriage by the mother plann'd: The mother cried, “Behold your constant boyWho grieved indeed, but found a vast relief Thursday-wis married : take the paper, sweet, In a cold heart, that ever warr'd with grief. And read the conduct of your reverend cheat; Lucy was present when her sister died,

See with what pomp of coaches, in what crowd Heiress to duties that she ill supplied :

The creature married--of his falsehood proud! There were no mutual feelings, sister arts,

False, did I say ?-at least no whining fool ;
No kindred taste, nor intercourse of hearts; And thus will hopeless passions ever cool :
When in the mirror play'd the matron's smile, But shall his bride your single state reproach !
The maiden's thoughts were travelling all the No! give him crowd for crowd, and coach for
while ;

coach.
And when desired to speak, she sigh'd to find 0! you retire ; reflect then, gentle miss,
Her pause offended ; " Envy made her blind : And gain some spirit in a cause like this."
Tasteless she was, nor had a claim in life

Some spirit Lucy gain'd; a steady soul,
Above the station of a rector's wife ;

Defying all persuasion, all control : Yet as an heiress, she must shun disgrace,

In vain reproach, derision, threats were tried; Although no heiress to her mother's face :

The constant mind all outward force defied, It is your duty," said th' imperious dame,

By vengeance vainly urged, in vain assail'd by (“ Advanced your fortune,) to advance your name, pride; And with superior rank, superior offers claim : Fix'd in her purpose, perfect in her part, Your sister's lover, when his sorrows die,

She felt the courage of a wounded heart; May look upon you, and for favour sigh

The world receded from her rising view, Nor can you offer a reluctant hand;

When Heaven approach'd as earthly things withHis birth is noble, and his seat is grand."

drew; Alarmd was Lucy, was in tears ; “ A fool! Not strange before, for in the days of love, Was she a child in love? a miss at school ?

Joy, hope, and pleasuire, she had thoughts above; Doubts any mortal, if a change of state

Pious when most of worldly prospects fond, Dissolves all claims and ties of earlier date ?" When they best pleased her she could look beyond.

The rector doubted, for he came to mourn Had the young priesť a faithful lover died. A sister dead, and with a wife return :

Something had been her bosom to divide; Lucy with heart unchanged received the youth, Now Heaven had all, for in her holiest views True in herself, confiding in his truth ;

She saw the matron whom she fear'd to lose ; But own'd her mother's change : the haughty dame While from her parent, the dejected maid Pour'd strong contempt upon the youthful flame; Forced the unpleasant thought, or thinking pray'd She firmly vow'd her purpose to pursue,

Surprised, the mother saw the languid frame, Judged her own cause, and bade the youth adieu! And felt indignant, yet forbore to blame : The lover begg'd, insisted, urged his pain, Once with a frown she cried, “ And do you mean His brother wrote to threaten and complain, To die of love-the folly of fifteen ?"

ARABELLA

But as her anger met with no reply,

| The mother lives, and has enough to buy She let the gentle girl in quiet die ;

Th' attentive ear and the submissive eye And to her sister wrote impellid by pain,

Of abject natures—these are daily told, "Come quickly, Martha, or you come in vain.” How triumph'd beauty in the days of old ; Lucy meantime profess’d, with joy sincere, How, by her window seated, crowds have cast That nothing held, employ'd, engaged her here. Admiring glances, wondering as they pass'd ; "I am an humble actor, doom'd to play

How from her carriage as she stepp'd to pray, A part obscure, and then to glide away;

Divided ranks would humbly make her way; Incurious how the great or happy shine,

And how each voice in the astonish'd throng Or who have parts obscure and sad as mine ; Pronounced her peerless as she moved along. In its best prospect I but wish'd, for life,

Her picture then the greedy dame displays, To be th' assiduous, gentle, useful wise ;

Touch'd by no shame, she now demands its praise ; That lost, with wearied mind, and spirit poor, In her tall mirror then she shows a face, I drop my efforts, and can act no more ;

Still coldly fair with unaffecting grace ; With growing joy I feel my spirits tend

These she compares, “ It has the form," she cries, To that lasi scene where all my duties end." "But wants the air, the spirit, and the eyes ; Hope, ease, delight, the thoughts of dying This, as a likeness, is correct and true, gave,

But there alone the living grace we view." Till Lucy spoke with fondness of the grave; This said, th' applauding voice the dame required, She smiled with wasted form, but spirit firm, | And, gazing, slowly from the glass retired. And said, " She left but little for the worm." As toll'd the bell, “There's one," she said, “ hath

press'd A while before me to the bed of rest ;" And she beside her with attention spread

TALE IX. The decorations of the maiden dead.

While quickly thus the mortal part declined, The happiest visions fill'd the active mind ;

Thrice blessed they that master so their bloodA soft, religious melancholy gain'd

But earthly happier is the rose distillid, Entire possession, and for ever reign'd,

Than that, which, withering on the virgin thorn On holy writ her mind reposing dwelt,

Grows, lives, and dies in single blessedness. She saw the wonders, she the mercies felt;

Midsummer Night's Dream, act i. sc. I. Till in a bless'd and glorious revery,

I sometimes do excuse the thing I hate, She seem'd the Saviour as on earth to see,

For his advantage whom I dearly love. And, filled with love divine, th' attending friend

Measure for Measure, act ii. sc. 4. to be;

Contempt, farewell! and maiden pride, adieu ! Or she who trembling, yet confiding, stole

Ibid. Near to the garment, touch'd it, and was whole; When, such th' intenseness of the working thought, Of a fair town where Doctor Rack was guide, On her it seem'd the very deed was wrought; His only daughter was the boast and pride ; She the glad patient's fear and rapture found, Wise Arabella, yet not wise alone, The holy transport, and the healing wound; She like a bright and polish'd brilliant shone ; This was so fix'd, so grafted in the heart,

Her father own'd her for his prop and stay, That she adopted, nay became the part :

Able to guide, yet willing to obey ; Bat one chief scene was present to her sight, Pleased with her learning while discourse could Her Saviour resting in the tomb by night;

please, * Her ferer rose, and still her wedded mind

And with her love in languor and disease : Was to that scene, that hallow'd cave, confined; To every mother were her virtues known, Where in the shade of death the body laid, And to their daughters as a pattern shown ; There watched the spirit of the wandering Who in her youth had all that age requires, maid;

And with her prudence, all that youth admires.
He looks were fixd, entranced, illumed, serene, These odious praises made the damsels try
In the still glory of the midnight scene.

Not to obtain such merits, but deny ;
There at her Saviour's feet, in visions bless'd, For, whatsoever wise mammas might say,
Th' enraptured maid a sacred joy possess'd; To guide a daughter this was not the way;
In patience waiting for the first-born ray

From such applause disdain and anger rise,
Of that all-glorious and triumphant day.

And envy lives where emulation dies. To this idea all her soul she gave,

In all his strength contends the noble horse, Her mind reposing by the sacred grave;

With one who just precedes him on the course; Then sleep would seal the eye, the vision close, But when the rival Aies too far before, And steep the solemn thoughts in brief repose. His spirit fails, and he attempts no more.

Then grew the soul serene, and all its powers | This reasoning maid, above her sex's dread! Again restored illumed the dying hours ;

Had dared to read, and dared to say she read ; Bat reason dwelt where fancy stray'd before, Not the last novel, not the new-born play; And the mind wander'd from its views no more ; Not the mere trash and scandal of the day; Till death approach'd, when every look express'd But, (though her young companions felt the shock,) A sense of bliss, till every sense had rest. | She studied Berkeley, Bacon, Hobbes, and Locke :

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Her mind within the maze of history dwelt, | A man may smile, but still he should attend
And of the moral muse the beauty felt!

His hour at church, and be the church's friend,
The merits of the Roman page she knew,

What there he thinks conceal, and what he hean And could converse with Moore and Montagu :

commend.” Thus she became the wonder of the town,

Frank was the speech, but heard with high From that she reap'd, to that she gave renown,

disdain, And strangers coming, all were taught t'admire Nor had the doctor leave to speak again; The learned lady, and the lofty spire.

A man who own'd, nay, gloried in deceit, Thus fame in public fix'd the maid, where all | " He might despise her, but he should not cheat." Might throw their darts, and see the idol fall; Then Vicar Holmes appear'd; he heard it said, A hundred arrows came with vengeance keen, That ancient men best pleased the prudent maid; From tongues envenom'd, and from arms unseen; And true it was her ancient friends she loved, A thousand eyes were fix'd upon the place, Servants when old she favour'd and approved ; That, if she fell, she might not fly disgrace: Age in her pious parents she revered, But malice vainly throws the poison'd dart, And neighbours were by length of days endear'd; Unless our frailty shows the peccant part ;

But, if her husband too must ancient be, And Arabella still preserved her name

The good old vicar found it was not he. Untouch'd, and shone with undisputed fame; On Captain Bligh her mind in balance hungHer very notice some respect would cause, Though valiant, modest ; and reserved, though And her esteem was honour and applause.

young; Men she avoided ; not in childish fear,

Against these merits must defects be selAs if she thought some savage foe was near; Though poor, imprudent; and though proud, in Not as a prude, who hides that man should seek,

debt. Or who by silence hints that they should speak; In vain the captain close attention paid ; But with discretion all the sex she view'd, She found him wanting, whom she fairly weigh'd Ere yet engaged, pursuing, or pursued ;

Then came a youth, and all their friends agreed, Ere love had made her 10 his vices blind

That Edward Huntly was the man indeed; Or hid the favourite's failings from her mind. Respectful duty he had paid a while,

Thus was the picture of the man portray'd, Then ask'd her hand, and had a gracious smile: By merit destined for so rare a maid :

A lover now declared, he led the fair
At whose request she might exchange her state, To woods and fields, to visits and to prayer;
Or still be happy in a virgin's fate.

Then whisper'd softly, “Will you name the day! He must be one with manners like her own, She sofily whisper'd, “ If you love me, stay." His life unquestion'd, his opinions known; “O! try me not heyond my strength," he cried. His stainless virtue must all tests endure,

"O! be not weak," the prudent maid replied : His honour spotless, and his bosom pure ;!

“ But by some trial your affection proveShe no allowance made for sex or times,

Respect and not impatience argues love : Of lax opinion-crimes were ever crimes ;

And love no more is by impatience known,
No wretch forsaken must his frailty curse,

Than ocean's depth is hy its tempests shown:
No spurious offspring drain his private purse : He whom a weak and fond impatience sways,
He at all times his passions must command, But for himself with all his fervour prays,
And yet possess, or be refused her hand.

And not the maid he wooes, but his own will All this without reserve the maiden told,

obeys;
And some began to weigh the rector's gold; And will she love the being who prefers,
To ask what sum a prudent man might gain, With so much ardour, his desire to hers ?"
Who had such store of virtues to maintain.

Young Edward grieved, but let not grief be
A Doctor Campbell, north of Tweed, came forth, seen;
Declared his passion, and proclaim'd his worth; He knew obedience pleased his fancy's queen.
Not unapproved, for he had much to say

A while he waited, and then cried, “ Behold! On every cause, and in a pleasant way;

The year advancing, be no longer cold!" Not all his trust was in a pliant tongue,

For she had promised" Let the flowers appear, His form was good, and ruddy he, and young : And I will pass with thee the smiling year." But though the doctor was a man of parts,

Then pressing grew the youth ; the more he He read not deeply male or female hearts ;

press'd, But judged that all whom he esteem'd as wise, | The less inclined the maid to his request : Must think alike, though some assumed disguise; “Let June arrive."-Alas! when April came, That every reasoning Brahmin, Christian, Jew, It brought a stranger, and the stranger, shame; Of all religions took their liberal view;

Nor could the lover from his house persuade And of her own, no doubt, this learned maid A stubborn lass whom he had mournful made : Denied the substance, and the forms obey'd ; Angry and weak, by thoughtless vengeance moved And thus persuaded, he his thoughts express'd She told her story to the fair beloved, Of her opinions, and his own profess'd

In strongest words th' unwelcome trutlr was shown "All states demand this aid, the vulgar need To blight his prospects, careless of her own. Their priests and prayers, their sermons and their Our heroine grieved, but had too firm a heart creed;

For him to soften, when she swore to part; And those of stronger minds should never speak In vain his seeming penitence and prayer, (In his opinion) what might hurt the weak : | His vows, his tears ; she left him in despair :

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His mother fondly laid her grief aside,

| As young Zelinda, in her quaker dress, And to the reason of the nymph applied

Disdain'd each varying fashion's vile excess ; * It well becomes thee, lady, to appear,

And now her friends on old Zelinda gaze, But not to be, in very truth, severe ;

Pleased in rich silks and orient gems to blaze · Although the crime be odious in thy sight, Changes like these 'tis folly to condemn, That daring sex is taught such things to slight, So virtue yields not, nor is changed by them. His heart is thine, although it once was frail ; Let us proceed: twelve brilliant years were Think of his grief, and let his love prevail!"

past, * Plead thou no more," the lofty lass return'd; Yet each with less of glory than the last; "Forgiving woman is deceived and spurn'd: Whether these years to this fair virgin gave Say that the crime is common ; shall I take A softer mind-effect they often have ; A common man my wedded lord to make ? Whether the virgin state was not so bless'd See! a weak woman by his arts betray'd,

As that good maiden in her zeal profess'd ; An infant born his father to upbraid ;

Or whether lovers falling from her train, Shall I forgive his vileness, take his name, Gave greater price to those she could retain, Sanction his error, and partake his shame? Is all unknown ;-but Arabella now No! this assent would kindred frailty prove, Was kindly listening to a merchant's vow; A love for him would be a vicious love :

Who offer'd terms so fair, against his love Can a chaste maiden secret counsel hold

To strive was folly, so she never strove; With one whose crime by every mouth is told ? Man in his earlier days we often find Forbid it spirit, prudence, virtuous pride ;

With a too easy and unguarded mind ; He must despise me, were he not denied : But by increasing years and prudence taught, The way from vice the erring mind to win, He grows reserved, and locks up every thought: Is with presuming sinners to begin,

Not thus the maiden, for in blooming youth And show, by scorning them, a just contempt for She hides her thought, and guards the tender

truth : The youth, repulsed, to one more mild convey'd This, when no longer young, no more she hides, His heart, and smiled on the remorseless maid ; But frankly in the favour'd swain confides : The maid, remorseless in her pride, the while Man, stubborn man, is like the growing tree, Despised the insult, and return'd the smile. That longer standing, still will harder be;

First to admire, to praise her, and defend, And like its fruit the virgin, first austere,
Was (now in years advanced) a virgin friend : Then kindly softening with the ripening year.
Much she preferr'd, she cried, a single state,

Now was the lover urgent, and the kind
" It was her choice,"—it surely was her fate ; And yielding lady 10 his suit inclined :
And much it pleased her in the train to view “A little time, my friend, is just, is right;
A maiden vot'ress, wise, and lovely too.

We must be decent in our neighbours' sight:" Time to the yielding mind his change imparts, Still she allow'd him of his hopes to speak, He varies notions, and he alters hearts ;

And in compassion took off week by week ; 'Tis right, 'tis just to feel contempt for vice, Till few remain'd, when, wearied with delay, But he that shows it may be over-nice :

She kindly meant to take off day by day. There are who feel, when young, the false sub That female friend who gave our virgin praise lime,

For flying man and all his treacherous ways, And proudly love to show disdain for crime, Now heard with mingled anger, shame, and fear, To whom the future will new thoughts supply, Of one accepted, and a wedding near; The pride will soften, and the scorn will die ; But she resolved again, with friendly zeal, Nay, where they still the vice itself condemn, To make the maid her scorn of wedlock feel; They bear the vicious, and consort with them : For she was grieved to find her work undone, Young Captain Grove, when one had changed his And like a sister mourn'd the failing nun. side,

Why are these gentle maidens prone to make Despised the venal turn-coat, and defied ;

Their sister doves the tempting world forsake ? Old Colonel Grove now shakes him by the hand, Why all their triumph when a maid disdains Though he who bribes may still his vote command: The tyrant sex, and scorns to wear its chains ? Why would not Ellen to Belinda speak,

Is it pure joy to see a sister flown
When she had flown to London for a week ; From the false pleasures they themselves havo
And then return'd, to every friend's surprise

known?
With twice the spirit, and with half the size? Or do they, as the call-birds in the cage.
She spoke not then ; but after years had flown, Try, in pure envy, others to engage ;
A better friend had Ellen never known :

And therefore paint their native woods and groves, Was it the lady her mistake had seen?

As scenes of dangerous joys and naughty loves ? Or had she also such a journey been?

Strong was the maiden's hope : her friend was No: 'twas the gradual change in human hearts,

proud, That time, in commerce with the world, imparts; And had her notions to the world avow'd; That on the roughest temper throws disguise, And, could she find the merchant weak and frail, And steals from virtue her asperities.

With power to prove it, then she must prevail ; The young and ardent, who with glowing zeal | For she aloud would publish his disgrace, Felt wrath for trifles, and were proud to feel And save his victim from a man so base. Now find those trifles all the mind engage, | When all inquiries had been duly made, To soolne dull hours, and cheat the cares of age ; | Came the kind friend her burden to unlade.

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“ Alas! my dear! not all our care and art Can tread the maze of man's deceitful heart:

TALE X.
Look not surprise, nor let resentment swell

THE LOVER'S JOURNEY.
Those lovely features, all will yet be well;
And thou, from love's and man's deceptions free,

The sun is in the heavens, and the proud day,
Wilt dwell in virgin state, and walk to heaven

Attended with the pleasures of the world, with me."

Is all too wanton. The maiden frown'd, and then conceived " that

King John, act iii. sc. 3. wives

The lunatic, the lover, and the poet, Could walk as well, and lead as holy lives

Are of imagination all compact. As angry prudes who scorn'd the marriage-chain,

Midsummer Night's Dream. Or luckless maids who sought it still in vain."

0! how the spring of love resembleth The friend was vex'd ; she paused, at length she Th' uncertain glory of an April day, cried,

Which now shows all her beauty to the sun, " Know your own danger, then your lot decide ;

And by-and-by a cloud bears all away.

And happily I have arrived at last That traitor, Beswell, while he seeks your hand,

Unto the wished haven of my bliss. Has, I affirm, a wanton at command ;

Taming of the Shreu, act v. sc. 1. A slave, a creature from a foreign place, The nurse and mother of a spurious race;

It is the soul that sees; the outward eyes Brown, ugly bastards—(Heaven the word forgive, Present the object, but the mind descries ; And the deed punish!)-in his cottage live; And thence delight, disgust, or cool indifference rise To town if business calls him, there he stays, When minds are joyful, then we look around, In sinful pleasures wasting countless days; And what is seen is all on fairy ground; Nor doubt the facts, for I can witness call Again they sicken, and on every view For every crime, and prove them one and all." Cast their own dull and melancholy hue;

Here ceased th' informer ; Arabella's look Or, if absorb'd by their peculiar cares, Was like a schoolboy's puzzled by his book ; The vacant eye on viewless matter glares, Intent she cast her eyes upon the floor,

Our feelings still upon our views attend, Paused—then replied

And their own natures to the objects lend ; “I wish to know no more : Sorrow and joy are in their influence sure, I question not your motive, zeal, or love,

Long as the passion reigns th' effects endure ; But must decline such dubious points to prove : But love in minds his various changes makes, All is not true, I judge, for who can guess

And clothes each object with the change he takes; Those deeds of darkness men with care suppress? His light and shade on every view he throws, He brought a slave, perhaps, to England's coast, And on each object, what he feels, bestows. And made her free ; it is our country's boast ! Fair was the morning, and the month was June And she perchance too grateful-good and ill When rose a lover ; love awakens soon; Were sown at first, and grow together, still ; Brief his repose, yet much he dreamt the while The colour'd infants on the village green,

Of that day's meeting, and his Laura's smile; What are they more than we have often seen? Fancy and love that name assign'd to her, Children half-clothed who round their village stray, Call'd Susan in the parish register; In sun or rain, now starved, now beaten, they And he no more was John ; his Laura gave Will the dark colour of their fate betray :

The name Orlando to her faithful slave. Let us in Christian love for all account,

Bright shone the glory of the rising day, And then behold to what such tales amount." When the fond traveller took his favourite way;

“ His heart is evil," said th' impatient friend He mounted gayly, felt his bosom light, “ My duty bids me try that heart to mend," And all he saw was pleasing in his sight. Replied the virgin : -“we may be too nice,

" Ye hours of expectation, quickly fly, And lose a soul in our contempt of vice;

And bring on hours of blest reality;
If false the charge, I then shall show regard When I shall Laura see, beside her stand,
For a good man, and be his just reward :

| Hear her sweet voice, and press her yielded hand." And what for virtue can I better do

First o'er a barren heath beside the coast Than to reclaim him, if the charge be true ?" Orlando rode, and joy began to boast.

She spoke, nor more her holy work delay'd ; | “This neat low gorge,” said he, "with golden 'Twas time to lend an erring mortal aid :

bloom, “ The noblest way,” she judged, “a soul to win, Delights each sense, is beauty, is perfume ; Was with an act of kindness to begin,

And this gay ling, with all its purple flowers, To make the sinner sure, and then t'attack the sin."* A man at leisure might admire for hours ;

This green-fringed cup-moss has a scarlet tip, * As the author's purpose in this tale may be mistaken, | That yields to nothing but my Laura's lip; he wishes to observe, that conduct like that of the lady's And then how fine this herbage! men may say here described, must be meritorious or censurable, just | A heath is barren ; nothing is so gay : as the motives to it are pure or selfish; that these mo. | Barren or bare to call such charming scene tives may in a great measure be concealed from the mind

Argues a mind possess'd by care and spleen.” of the agent; and that we often take credit to our virtue for

incli. Onward he went, and fiercer grew the heat, actions which spring originally from our tempers, incli. nations, or our indifference. It cannot therefore be im. Dust rose in clouds before the horse's feot ; proper, much less immoral, to give an instance of such For now he pass'd through lanes of burning sand self-deception.

Bounds to thin crops, or yet uncultured land ;

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