THE LIBRARY
OF
THE UNIVERSITY
OF CALIFORNIA
LOS ANGELES
c
a~
77?^ ^
^iT
/
^^^
:ls^ /^/
CROES Y BREILA
OR,
Cbe ^rmises of glany Ilegular Meehs.
V
ij;*'
pp.
-,-r -r^
f^'waiBgFKtSESBi.
.-j|C"^e^
-S^
5i^S5^„
SUN DIAL, IN SHENSTONE CHURCHYARD
V *•* >!»
see paQe 50.
CROES Y BREILA:
OR,
THE EXERCISES OF MANY REGULAR WEEKS.
BY
R. W. ESSINGTON, M.A.,
VICAR OF SHEXSTONE.
AUTHOK OF " OVER VOLCANOES," BY A KINGSMAN.
LONDON :
BEMROSE AND SONS, 10, PATERNOSTER BUILDINGS;
AND DERBY.
AU Rights Reserved.
MDCCCLXxrx.
AUGUSTO E. MANLEY,
DE AULA MANLEIANA
AEMIGEEO
COMITATUS SUI VICECOMITI
D. D. D.
AUCTOR CAPELLANUS
ETONENSI ETONENSIS
Calendis Maktiis,
mdccclxxix.
8588^0
The Author has to thank the Publishers of "London Society,"
"Bentlei/'s Magazine," " Fr user's Magazine," "Chambers' Jour-
nal," etc., etc., for permission to reprint contributions accepted hi/
them.
CONTENTS.
PAGE
Croes y Breila ------- 1
Victoria L.eta ---.-,-. 3
G-. A. Selwyn -.-.... q
Motto for the Rifle Brigade - - - . Q
The Cloud ---.-... 7
The Bow in the Cloud - - - . . q
Out of Sight - - - - . - - . 9
The Mind -----.. 12
On the Eigi - ------ 13
In Memoriam — Henrici Moore - - - - 14
The Princes of Egypt - - . . - 15
Janet ---.... 26
The Vatican ------- 17
Pio NoNO -----.-. 20
On a School in Lichfield ----- 21
A Bethlehem Idyll - . . . . 22
On a Dial in Shenstone Churchyard - - - 30
On a Dial in Front of Shenstone Vicarage - 30
In the Dark Night ------ 31
A Question ---.... 3g
Stamboul for Italy - - . - . - 37
CONTKNTS.
PA HE
41
A Burning Question - - • "
The Eastward Position . . - - - 41
On the Iiight Side ----'"
On the Wrong Side ^^
Faith ---"'."''
Hope - - ■ " '• '
Hope Deferred - ■ " " "
47
A Stolen Kiss ----""'
48
By the Well ------'
The Withered Misletoe - - - -
Drowned ---•"'''
III Success - - - ■ ' " . '
The Ehine Watch ------
On the Eye of the White Horse
To the Right Hon. W. E. Gladstone -
Answered Prayers - - - • -
HULDAH
The King's Feast - - - - "
A Picture by Dore
An Evening Communion - - - - - 81
A Warning ----■■'
At Capri — A Contrast - - - - -
Rome's Converts
Smallness and Greatness . - - - - 91
93
Redemption ---■''
Love Unfeigned -
Evergreens at Christmas - • - ■ 97
Stooping - - iU
Undone .------■
The Mayor of the Palace at the Yatk^an - - 102
Cajiels and Gnats ------ 1^*
44
45
46
52.
60
61
62
64
66
67
68
78
79
86
90
CONTENTS. XI
PAGE
Don Dineeo of Quetedo Modernised - - - 105
Allhallows at Avillion - - - - - 108
A PiH'ER IN THE SoUTH - - - - - - 1 1 4
Differences - - - - - - - 117
The Tyranny of a Tooth - - - - - 118
Cooing and Kootooing - - - - - 124
The Pass of Betomestham ----- 125
A EoBiN Astray -.--.. 142
cle^'er for a grentleman - - - - - 143
The Emigrant's Hymn . - . - . 147
Old Catholics - - - - - - - 148
The Life of Christ - - - - - 150
A Lay from the Apocrypha - - - - - 153
Nobody and Somebody - - - - - 166
Banns --...-.-- 179
The Palm Sunday of SER%aA - - - - 180
Wiltshire Cured - - - - - - - 183
The Friend - - - - - - - 187
The Eeal Friend- - - - - - - 188
Easter Eve 189
A Bridal Hymn - - - - . - - - 190
Toasts 191
Jehu 192
Knots Cut .-..-.- 195
ExcELsioRA Prospicix - - - - - - 198
Goody - 199
Our Two Cardinals ------ 200
The King of Boys 204
Presumption - - - - - - - - 205
The Living Death - - - - - - 206
Dropping from the Clouds ■ - . - 207
Xii CONTENTS.
The Baptist in the Desert
A Lo^'E Pabley -
PAOE
209
210
It Fizzes - '^^^
A Sound Faith 213
Questions and Answers 214
The Lost Tribes - 215
Church Defence ------ 216
Leaves 217
AY hat is Coming? 218
Purging all Meats 219
A Happy Christmas ------ 220
The Vestments ------- 222
Thohu va Vohu ------ 223
Our Sanitary Canon ------ 224
The Outcast's Home - . . . - 226
Habitual Confession ------ 226
Our Crusaders- ------ 228
The Bells of Ouseley - - - - 229
The Converts of Patricius . . . . 280
AVoRK 235
A Last Look at Eton ----- 236
The Future 238
€xot& g ISvttla.
T various times in the course of my life,
52j^ strangers of many nations have said to
me mysteriously, " So you also are a brother of
the Croes y Breila, a Rosicrucian." To this re-
cognition I used to reply, that although I knew
that " Croes y Breila," in the language of the
Druids, meant the Rosy Cross, I was very little
acquainted with the doctrines of those who believe
in the existence of a glorious lamp, long buried,
but never extinguished, and destined to become
the Light of the World. The rejoinder to my
disclaimer has always been couched in the same
terms, namely, " Nevertheless, thou art a Rosi-
crucian, for thy speech betrayeth thee."
Latterly, when accosted in this way, I have
offered no contradiction to the assertion. Indeed,
2
CROES Y BREILA.
I begin to think that I may be a member of the
Croes y Breila after all. It is true that I am as
little conversant with the cabalistic figures now
as ever I was, but perhaps they are not essential.
At all events, I have long felt that I ought to
be serving under a Cross of some sort, and I hope
that there are within me some rays of the
imperishable light.
I have, therefore, ventured to draw attention
to the Croes y Breila, or the Rosy Cross, and 1
have done so under the conviction that they who
unfurl this banner wish to enforce a great
truth, which ascetics and persecutors, and fanatics
of all sorts, conspire to obscure. This truth is, that
religion does not consist in torturing other people
or even ourselves, nor in the dogmas or opinions
which lead to such wickedness ; but in a humble
acceptance of Christ's doctrines, and a zealous
endeavour to promote enduring happiness. These
are the principles which have inspired this book,
and hence its title,
" CROES Y BREILA."
\aCTOKIA L^TA.
Vittoxm ilscta,
tN science first, and first in classic lore,
First "with the bat, the racquet, and the oar,
With humour always keen, yet always kind,
A mine of facts and figures was hia mind ;
So when the rumour- ran that Torr would speak,
Sabrina's Porson,* leaving his loved Greek,
Endured the Union for the blaze of wit,
Which, while he thundered, used to play on it.
What prize too high for such a frame to win ?
A frame informed by such a mind within !
Did not the Court and Granta vie to place
Our Sidney first in life's Olympic race ?
Alas ! he died upon a moorland cm-e ;
Uncared for died, misunderstood, and poor,
Died, though he knew it not, upon the day
When she he loved, and left, had passed away,
*As I write a ghost rises before me. It is he, who during many
weeks of suspense, saw within his reach the one object of his am-
bition, viz., the mantle of the great Professor, now so worthily worn
by Dr. Kennedy. I shall never forget the effect of the decision,
which was to the following effect: —
" Ingenio major, minor annis cede, magistro
Displicuisse tuo nostra Sabrina vetat."
My poor friend, Edward Meredith Cope, never recovered from
this blow.
4 CROES Y BEEILA.
Had left to save licr duteous heart the ire
Of a too wealthy, too ambitious sire,
She, who had taught his aching heart to look
For consolation to the Holy Book ;
And he had found it there, and at the Feast
Of glad communion with the One High Priest ;
But they who hoped his victories to hail,
They, who had seen each bright prediction fail.
Felt that the early haloes of their friend
Had turned to clouds and darkness at the end.
Such the sad thoughts of all, except the few
Who knew the Christ, and thus the secret knew ;
But many blamed him for his wasted hours,
His misdirected, unproductive powers;
And one there was, he knew the dead man well.
And mourned in him a lost Achitophel,
Who, half in disappointment, half in joke,
Thus the hushed stillness of bereavement broke,
" This tomb will want an epitaph, and here
Is a fit tribute to a spoiled career.
How inconsistent are the ways of God,
Our child of promise — proved an Ichabod ! "
He, laughing, spake, but ere the scorner slept,
A horror of great darkness o'er him swept,
And, while his body on the mattress lay.
His dreaming spirit clove the starlit way.
VICTORIA L^TA. 5
By fiery legions of Archangels led,
Whose flaming swords flashed lightnings round his head,
And all he saw, he told us on the morn,
In tones of horror, mingled with self scorn —
On the pale horse of death, before a gate,
Torr, whom I dared to deem unfortunate,
Sate mounted. In his hand, its keen point lowered,
The Word of God, which is the Spirit's sword,
His helmet, 'twas salvation, bent so low,
The pendent cross lay on his saddle-bow,
The fire of love had marred his wayworn dress,
But bright the breast-plate shone, 'twas righteousness.
And thus he spake, "I died to seek my Lord."
Then the gate opened of its own accord.
His Lord was there, his God, the Virgin's Son ;
And kneeling at her Saviour's feet, was one
He loved, and left ; then on my ear there fell
A voice, which whispered, "Here is Christabel ;
They sowed in tearfe, they reap in joy with Me,
Defeat in life, in death is victory."
Grey, who had seen that vision, ceased to speak,
And the hot tear-drops furrowed his wan cheek ;
He ceased, and wonder filled the silent room ;
At length he murmured, " Lay me in Torr's tomb.
That life was life, but mine a long offence,
And poor and short is livelong penitence.
6 CROES Y BREILA.
I thought that riches, armed with intellect,
Would awe the world, subdue it, and dii-ect
The world, which like a conqueroi*'s steed should feel
Its pride increased, spurred onwards by my heel ;
But wisdom folly is, and riches dross,
And glory shame, and earth's acquirements loss ;
Begone, base Mammon, Belial depart,
I knew ye not, but ye have ruled my heart ;
Now am I freed, one warning has sufficed,
Come, overcome the world and me, my Christ."
JO the Old World and New an equal loss,
Our Polar Star, and there the Southern Cross,
Selwyn no more will guide his fellow-men,
Gone home to rest at three score years and ten ;
But as the star which brightened earth's dark night.
Though hid by morning, gilds the heavenly height,
He shines the more beneath God's greater light.
iHotto fov t!jc IXifit Bvtaatrc.
NoMEN dat telum, praedam qui suggerat, absit.
THE CLOUD.
jTn TELP Thou mine unbelief;
Cjj~, The more I read Thy Book, and reason out
Its contradictions, all the more I doubt ;
And deeper doubt is ever deeper grief.
For, if it be not true,
This frame, already conscious of decay,
And full of pains, and waning day by day.
Its crescent youth must nevermore renew —
And they to whom I said,
" Farewell, awhile farewell, until we meet
Before the Mighty Healer's mercy-seat,"
Are not asleep and resting, but stone dead.
And all that they, or we
Have built aloft in heaven-aspiring thought
To raise a pmiy race, must come to nought,
And Babels, and Birs Nimrouds only be —
Then, though the glimpse be brief,
And sad, and full of peril, raise the veil.
Lest faith, and hope, and love alike should fail.
And all be lost, help Thou mine unbelief.
CROES Y BREILA.
m)t Bolu in tt)c Cloutr.
(iiJ
llJcN* VER for help lias cried,
Q^:^ The pilgrim, dazed by darkness ; but the Stone
Reveals to those who seem the most alone
A glorious Mahanaim by their side.
Ancl think how once was won
The world men call the New ; while science showed
No land could he along the Pinta's road,
Spain saw it rise behind the setting sun.
And were it never night,
How some would scoff if inspiration said,
That orbs of light were shining overhead,
Obscured by more, revealed by lesser light.
Yet wisdom would not change
Our sunny midday joyoqsness, and make
Drear centuries of darkness, for the sake
Of those who wished that sight had wider range.
Sceptics might cease to grieve,
"And doubts, disputes, denials might be o'er,
But losing these, the world would hear no more
The shout of faith victorious, " I believe,"
OUT OF SIGHT. 9
S soon as the Master's feet relinquished their
^^23^ hold upon the earth, a cloud received Him
at once, and He was removed from man's sight.
The mist came sweeping down the slopes of Olivet
one moment, and at the same moment the
everlasting doors were lifting up their heads. No
eye marked the Divine Being as He clove the
skies, and became less and less in the distance ;
nor did any child of Adam, with vision miracu-
lously intensified, witness the entrance of the Creator
through the crystal gates. The glorious scene has
been described by King David, and it is to be painted
by Gustave Dore ; * but the details, which were
supplied to the soldier-poet by inspiration, will
come to the great painter from the depths of his
marvellous imagination ; for no human eye saw
the Angels when they veiled their faces in the
presence of their conquering Lord, the Standard
Bearer of the Rosy Cross.
This limit to the vision of man was for the best,
* This subject was suggested to M. G. Dore by tlie Eev.
G. H. Wayte, and thankfully accepted.
10 CROES Y BREILA.
no doubt ; and it is also well that our views of
religion become obscured just at the same point,
that is, as soon as the feet are removed from this
earth. At all events they are thus restricted. For
while the revelation deals with the duties of this
world, all is so plain that neither the child nor
the wayfaring man has any difficulty in under-
standing the teaching. But when the ascension has
commenced, the vision of the most far-seeing is
baffled. We can follow with awe and reverence a
little way, but it is only a little way. When we
hear God, our Father, speaking from heaven, and
at the same time see God, the Spirit, descending,
like a Dove, upon God the Son, standing in the
Jordan, we adore the miraculous perfection of
happiness, viz.. Triune existence, but we do not
understand the incomprehensible mystery. And yet,
while this Christian verity is in one way contrary
to human reason, it is in another way most
agreeable to it. For it is natural to conclude that
the Creator has secured for Himself all the imaginable
elements of happiness. But that condition of lone-
liness which results from the absence of any equal,
would leave something to be desired. On the other
hand, the presence of equals, capable of becoming
OUT OF SIGHT. 11
rivals, might introduce a cause of disquietude, or
even end in a more disastrous war than that in
wliich Michael was engaged. A Trinity in Unity,
and a Unity in Trinity, solves the problem, and
produces the absolute perfection of Divine beatitude.
It is one thing, however, to observe, that, in this
case, as in all others, the highest philosophy is in
harmony with revelation; it is quite another to
assert that to think thus of the Trinity confers a
right to consign to eternal jDerdition those who
unhappily think otherwise. Therefore the Quicunque
Vult requires a corrective, when used in public wor-
ship ; and nothing answers this purpose so well as
the Sermon on the Mount, particularly that portion
of it which informs us that the surest method of
securing eternal condemnation for ourselves, is to
hurl that dreadful threat at the head of our
neighbours.
And perhaps it would be well if some persons
recollected, that, after all, the tenet of a Trinity in
Unity is not a doctrine of Scripture in the strictest
sense of the word doctrine ; in other words, it is
not a plain statement of teaching like the text,
" The Lord our God is one Lord." It is in fact
only a dogma, that is, an opinion of uninspired
12 CROKS Y BREILA.
men, derived from comparing, by the help of reason,
one passage of scripture with another, and thus
drawing a conclusion. It is obvious, that, under
such circumstances, the absolute truth may be out
OF SIGHT, although we believe that we see it.
'XiT'j'^T'HEN both alike are strange, the race, the laud,
Xcr A distant -past is hard to understand ;
And who can solve the present ? for behind
Each action, great or little, lies a mind.
The mind, a power invisible as air.
Whose subjects feel their ruler everywhere ;
Commanding still, although a traitorous kiss
Too often prompts it to command amiss.
A subtle force, minute, and yet intense.
It binds the eye to blind obedience ;
It coins from nerves, and tissues, and the rill
Which ebbs and flows until the heart is still,
Platonic prose, Anacreontic strains,
And plans which master states, or win campaigns ;
And at the last it wafts the bark to port.
Or hurls it headlong where the mermaids sport ;
But whence the wind, and how it comes, or goes,
We dimly guess, its Maker only knows.
ON THE EIGI. 13
'hJ^HE bearer of a heavy heart
(^ Seeks the lost home,
Not iu the forum nor the mart,
Nor Papal Kome,
Bat on the desert hills apart,
Or ocean's foam.
And some there be, who cai-ry grief
They must not show,
To valleys on the coral reef
Where palm trees grow ;
Or where the Alpine rose's leaf
Peeps through the snow.
And oft that ghastly bloodhound — care
Which swift as wind
Had dogged its victim everywhere,
Has lagged behind
When Champery and Chamossaire
Had braced the mind.
For there the summer morns, bedight
With golden glow,
Shed many a dazzling chrysolite
Upon the snow,
And snatch the living babe delight
From the dead woe.
14 CROES Y BREILA.
And if round Rigi, black with rain
The storm-clouds lie,
Whence swifter than the hurricane
The lightnings fly,
Which thunder- tongucd betray the i^aiu
That rends the sky,
The joy is deeper than before,
Though we can see
Nor Lucerne's undulating shore,
Nor hill, nor tree,
But surging, 'mid the tempest's roar,
A vaporous sea.
For then we learn, if clouds should hide
The heart from day.
That still upon their upward side
The sunbeams play,
Until the shades of eventide
Steal them away.
En ilTcmoriam— l^tnrtci JHoovc.
ToTius Staffordiaj Archidiaconus ultimus.
Quod potuit Solus, vis poterunt gemini.
THE PEINCES OF EGYPT. 15
^f^t pttnccs of iBggpt
'HEN floods of affliction o'er Christendom burst,
A harbour awaiteth her, e'en at the worst ;
And Truth, though ecHpsed, is ascending the height,
Which rings with the songs of the children of light.
Then why on the bountiful vale of the Nile
Are glory and gladness forbidden to smile ?
And why is she slave to an alien race.
The vilest of vile, and the basest of base ?
The promise is sure, and the anchorage nigh,
But Egypt impenitent passeth it by.
It is not for ever, it is not for long.
The reign of oppression, of falsehood, and wrong —
For out of the down-trodden land, from the scum
Whose rulers are vassals, the Princes will come —
The Princes of Egypt ! they enter, and lo !
The Day-star is spanning the clouds with a bow ■
From Noph and Taphanes to Zoan and No —
And Pathros is ransomed, and Aven is bright
With the rays of redemption. Away with the night !
Away with the famine, the plague, and the fear !
A greater than Joseph, than Moses is here ;
Here, not as a babe with His mother, whose cheeks
Still pale at the echoes of Bethlehem's shrieks.
16 CROES Y BREILA.
But Lord of the earth, and the air, and the sea.
He parts the red billows, the captives are free —
For He is the Lamb of the Passover Night,
The rock in the desert, the pillar of light.
And scattering the people who glory in war,
And breaking for ever the hammer of Thor,
The Lord of Jeshurmi, with banner outspread,
From earth and from ocean is calling the dead —
And trumpets of Jubilee sound the release,
The morning of triumph, the era of peace.
PANET, my Janet, all nature is ringing
With music divine,
The lark, and the thrush, and the blackbird are singing
Their Valentine ;
Janet, my Janet, for ever be mine !
No, you will leave me, and wander a Maying
Mabel and you,
Dora and Beatrice, Valentine playing,
Lilian too ;
Janet, my Janet, then what shall I do ?
THE VATICAN, 17
^i)t T'attfan.
c-y>
N ground once watered by the Martyrs' blood
'^cL^vj^- A palace stands beside the Tiber's flood ;
'Tis his who once was king, but king no more,
Save for the few who hopefully adore.
Upon the walls are pictures, which to own
Might half console him for his vanished throne ;
And one there is, which every eye enthralls.
Such dazzling radiance down the canvas falls.
Its subject a great conclave, on the left
Is he, whom Victor of his crown bereft ;
And round their Pio, fiUiug up the hall,
Bishop, Archbishop, and Prince Cardinal.
All eyes are fixed on him, for 'tis the hour
To give the Church a foretaste of his power.
Decreeing Mary's superhuman state,
Like her Boy Lord, conceived immaculate ;
And lo, that sunbeam on his upturned face,
To deep emotion adds a deeper grace.
And bids a future Vatican proclaim
The full proportions of the Pontiff's fame,
And to the earth the glorious tidings bring,
That Eome's Archprelate is her faultless King.
3
18 - CKOKS Y BRKILA.
Tlien must creation own that there is one
Who reigns, the Viceroy of Jehovah's Son ?
Odo, whose nnerring voice can supersede
The future council, and tlie ancient creed ?
One, to whose feet enquiring souls may fly,
And hear unerring wisdom thus reply, •
"I heed not reason, neither need you heed;
Believe in mc — how simple is the creed ! —
'Twill free the troubled mind from every doubt,
And guard the soul in Armageddon's rout ;
What though a fallen Prince be free to bless
Each fresh rebellion with a short success.
The future, moulded by the Paraclete,
Must lay its diadem at Peter's feet,
And own that grace to save, and power to ban.
Flows through my signet of the Fisherman."
Since such dominion is assumed, 'tis wise
The startling claim to weigh and scrutinize ;
For if it rests upon the solid ground,
A truth revealed, a principle profound,
'Tis ours to stand before a master dumb.
And ow^n ourselves, and all things overcome.
To this enquiry, a reply may be
Drawn from thy guiding lore. Analogy.
When the sun rises on the Arctic floe,
The iceberg leaves its wilderness of snow ;
THE VATICAN. 19
Strange forms are there, which lived in years gone by,
Now doomed to tliaw, and thus to putrify ;
But day by day its upward glories grow,
While day by day its danger grows below.
And though its towering height the truth may hide,
Its shadows lessen every eventide ;
Yet how eternal seems the pathless top,
And what can turn its purpose ? What can stop ?
The proud Threedecker, steering in the dark
Sinks, while it strikes, and striking, leaves no mark ;
Thus onward, crushing down the works of man,
Floats o'er the deep that cold Leviathan.
At last a rosy sunset, loth to leave.
Plays round the summit on an autumn eve,
But while a jubilant exulting throng
Hails its gay presence with the Babel song,
" Hosanna, Eock eternal, Triple crown,"
The giant totters, overturns, goes down.
And thus at God's appointed time, will man
Be freed for ever from the Vatican.
20 CEOES Y BREILA.
^^TE who would test the last of Eoyal Popes,
Q^-^ Needs neither crucibles nor microscopes.
The parts divide, a very Annas one,
The other Count Ferretti's soldier son ;
And how unlike the twain, how strange to see
Both intertwined in seeming unity ;
So strange, 'tis well to separate the two,
To love the good, the evil to eschew,
To hold the Petrine warp, yet hold aloof
From the foul purple of the Papal woof.
I saw him once, I heard his blessings fall
On motley strangers in his Audience Hall,
I felt the fascination of the smile
Which hailed a swordsman from the rebel isle.
And knelt to pray that he might ne'er perceive
His curses homeward come to roost at eve.
Might lay his pseudo-martyr's chaplet down,
And wear the i^eniteut's enduring crown. —
But of his other self, the banning Pope,
A Christian child might cast that horoscope.
"What then of him who petulantly hurled
His howling curses' at a laughing world ?
PIO NONO. 21
Who bade the voice of history be mute,
And laid his axe on reason at its root ?
Wrai?ped in his pompous, self-asserting pride,
That Pope was fallen man personified !
0n a %tfiool in Utt^ficUi.
\/i
Malthouse once, those souls it used to vex
Who hate strong beer, and make it their chief
trouble
That imknown quantities of double X
The ills of life, and all we see, will double.
'Tis now a School, let none its teaching mar,
For education's alphabet a mess is,
When Christians are content with treble E,
And treble X the root of all excess is.
^-m^BM^
i*^-
22 CROKS Y BREILA.
^ ISctf)lc!)cm Ktrj)lL
'^ST^EATH shall divide us, saidst thou, only
y^:^ death."
" No, Ruth, not even death,"
Thus Mara mused,
At eve awaiting her, who, through the day.
Had sought her meat from charity and God —
And now the gleaner entered, laying down
Her barley, 'twas an ephah, measuring which
With glances quick, the elder woman smiled
Her mute a^jproval, and the younger spake :
" A king of men thy kinsman is, my mother ;
And thus I crown him, not because his teams
May plough a Sabbath's journey ere they turn
To arch the glistening ridges ; but because
A princely bearing, and a generous heart,
In him uniting, waken loyal love ;
You should have seen the sickles how they gleamed
Around the heads of twice three hundred men,
When he, this morn, with morning coming down
The eastern slopes of Bethlehem, amid
The bounteous harvest, walked its bounteous lord ;
And oh, the shout which burst from every heart,
A BETHLEHKM IDYLL. 23
' Jehovah himmaukem ! ' 'Twas like the roar
Of bridled waters, which the crosscut dams
Tame into duteous turbulence ; but when
He, who ennobling with true manliness
His rustic mantle, half a Soldier looked,
And half a Priest, but every inch a King,
Bent down his lordly neck, and doubly blessed,
Reciprocating benisons, replied,
' Jevaurcka Jehovah ! ' Then the shouts
Rose louder than before, and old and young
(I read it in their eyes) would fain have turned
Those sickles into swords, and faced the world,
Fighting for Boaz —
How I envied him
That passionate devotion ; aiid I thought,
Such might have been my Mahlon, who is gone."
Then Mara answered : " Once I heard it said.
That human minds are dual, and that thought
Flies swifter than the lightning, which can join
With instantaneous line of jagged fire
Arcturus to Orion, whence 'twas proved
That time, and space, and mind, may be compressed
Intensely, and the annals of the world
So closely written as to lie within
The compass of a moment. First I deemed
That tale a fable, now I know 'tis truth ; .
24 CROES Y BBEILA,
For while you spake, although I heard each tone,
My other self was absent, living in
The future, and before mine eyes was spread
A tapestry of ages, many hued ;
And through the pictures ran thy golden thread,
Salvation for the faithful." Here Euth sighed,
' ' Alas ! I have no children, and my heart
Is in the grave, and so that must not be."
"Nay, listen first," Naomi answered, "ere
You spill the joy which bubbles to the lip ;
Your lord is Boaz. Nay, I saw you lie
At his uncovered feet one autumn night,
Alone with God and him, while in his bam
He slept the sleep which health and innocence
Inherit after toil, till midnight slept,
Unconscious of your presence, then awoke
To know that he must win your love, or die.
Have I not touched you, Euth ? "
" Ah me," she said,
"It must not be, my heart is in the grave."
But Mara, heeding not those mournful words,
Although repeated, thus continued : " Next,
I passed away from Bethlehem Ephratah
To Ephes Dammim ; right and left there rose
Those mountain peaks, defiant, opposite,
\Vhich with alternate shadows veil the sun
A BETHLEHEM IDYLL. 25
At Azekab and Shocoli ; on the slopes
Of each there stood an armament arrayed
For battle ; but unequally, for here
Was panic dread, and there exulting pride ;
Between them Elah lay, and every morn
Far past the centre of that neutral ground
A giant stalked, and blasphemous defied
Oui- Israel. For forty days I heard
That infamy repeated ; blushing heard,
For none rebuked it ; but at length stepped forth,
In answer to the challenge, one so calm,
So brave, so confident, altbough withal
So humble, that I longed to shield him from
That mighty spear, which, like a weaver's beam,
Dented the earth, each time the lord of Gath,
To emphasize his curses, dashed it down ;
But he, the hope of Judah — 'twas thy boy —
Had better aid than I could briug, for when
I looked again the son of Anak lay
Piled on the gory ground, while from the trunk,
His head dissevered, at a King and me,
Grinned dead defiance impotent."
Still Kuth,
Although her soul to David's soul akin.
Looked forth from eyes dilated, sighing said,
" It must not be, my heart is in the grave."
26 CROES Y UKKILA.
But lieecling not, or seeming not to heed,
Naomi spake again,
" Then years rolled on,
Borne charged with joy, and more surcharged with woe,
But all seen indistinctly through a haze,
And when the sun broke forth, the royal race
Of him who slew the giant, reigned no more ;
But some upon our green Gennesaret
Were fishers ; one, and he the chief of all,
A carpenter at Nazareth ; yet not
Unmindful of his royal father's home
At Bethlehem, for there I saw him go.
Obedient to an alien lord's behest.
Leading his virgin wife, about to bear
A son ; how dreary seemed the road across
Those treeless hills, how cold the welcome ; room
Was none for her, nor for her child, thine own,
Save in a manger ; to His world He came,
His world received Him not ; yet some there were
To hail their Maker — Princes who had marked
His star, a midnight sunrise, streak the east.
So to the place, whereon it seemed to rest,
Had wended pilgrims, bearing mystic gifts —
Gold, frankincense, and myrrh ; and as they laid
Those offerings down, I saw that Infant smile,
While heavenly choirs sang circling round their King,
A BETHLEHEM IDYLL. 27
' Glory to God above, and on tlie earth
Peace and good-will to men.'— That Babe must sprhig,
Daughter, from thee,"
Here Mara paused, and Euth
At length was moved, and felt the hope which soothed
Repentant Eve, a leaping in her womb
As though the child were there, Emmanuel !
Born to reconquer death ; but when her eyes
To outward objects clearing, saw the face
Of Mara watching hers, his mother's face,
More eloquent than all her words, recalled
The spectral past ; and so again she said,
" It must not be, my heart is iu his grave."
But heeding not, or seeming not to heed,
Spake Mara once again :
" The earth lay stretched
Around me as before, the shrines of God
Were there, or domed, as if to imitate
The firmament, or turreted, and towered
Like fortresses where truth might make a stand ;
Or with attenuated pyramids
Piercmg the clinging clouds, and to the heavens
Aspu-ing ; but too oft the Word of God
Was wanting, and the worshippers so cold.
So absent, too ; for other were the thoughts
28 CROES Y BRKILA.
Which istirrecl tlie nations, marrying
(If unions unhallowed by God's laws
Are marriages), or marketings of wares,
Falser than aught, except the hollow weights.
Which to the loaded scales lied brazen-faced.
And next I saw the palaces of hell,
Blazing on earth, from whence, afire with wine,
Demoniacs self-demented, issuing.
Keeled through a glaring labyrinth of streets,
Down to a fetid stream, and wallowing, died.
Oh, grievous sight ! but worse beyond it loomed ;
For like as when along a sultry plain,
A sudden whirlwind, shivering from the hills.
Heralds the clouds ice-laden, and yet scarce
Outstripped, so I could feel the chill of war
Blighting the air ; and knew that war would come.
Since they who smear their sceptres with the blood
Of fellow-citizens enslaved, must try
To daub then- blackness with the ruddier tints
Of foreign victories. The thunderbolt
Which should enfranchise or enslave a world
Seemed imminent ; so imminent, that all
Gazed fixedly upon the north, where piled
Cloud upon cloud, impenetrably black.
Mysterious might had throned itself. When lo !
Drowning the crash of. crushed battalions.
A BETHLEHEM IDYLL. 29
Drowning all else, except the breath of prayer,
A silver trumpet sounded in tlie east.
And all was hushed ; the grip upon the neck
Was paralyzed ; and yet the victim lay
Prostrate ; for earth was quaking to its core,
And thence the central and sulphureous heat
Irradiating, in explosive mists.
Was dissipating the deep seas, from which
The drowned upstarted ; and the hurricanes
Howling no more, died silently away,
Breathed into risen myriads. Then might I
Have talked with Adam, Abel, Abraham,
With Miriam, and thy shepherd lad, who slew
Goliath, but my longing eyes were fixed
On those three graves, which, ere we left our land,
Were decked with flowers autumnal. All I loved
The most on earth were there, Elimelech,
Mahlon, and Chilion too, and all were known ;
Though that which was corruptible had changed
To incorruption, that which mortal was,
To immortaUty. Oh 1 who can tell
The rapture of that meeting ? Who describe
Those cadences, so marvellously sweet.
Which into space illimitable bore
The burden of their song ? * We praise Thee, Lord,
We bless Thee, Son of God, and Son of Euth ! ' "
BO CKOtS \ BKEILA.
Here Mara ceased, and sighing now no more,
Her daughter answered, " Mother, shall I hear
My Mahlou's voice, and see his face again ?
And shall he rise immortal, owing all
His happiness to me ?
Enough ; I yield."
And so thenceforth upon the plough of faith,
Ruth, tremulously stedfast, laid her hand.
0\x a 19tal in %f)tn^toMt Cijuvcftgartr.
If o'er the dial glides a shade, redeem
The time, for, lo it passes, like a di-eam;
But if 'tis all a blank, then mark the loss
Of hours unblessed by shadows from the Cross.
(3n a ^ial in front of Sifttnstont l^tcaragc,
Solis adit lux, Hie docet umbra Crux, Datur hora.
Umbram addit nox, Hinc abit umbrae vox, Abit hora.
Absit mora.
Note. — Tliese dials, as shown in the frontispiece and vignette, are
cruciform, and the cross serves both as the gnomon and the dial-
plate. The latter inscription runs round an octagon cap, and at the
foot are the following words, in Greek and Hebrew characters : —
Oran didosi Stauros, outos heliou. Yehe ore.
u^f %.^, Jf ^^<
V
SUN DIAL, IN FRONT OF SHENSTONE VICARAGE.
see page so.
IN TIIK DARK NIGHT. 31
Kn tt)t Elavil Nigljt.
q^^l^OMING events east their shadows before
^cIXj them. So, at least, they say ; but happily
these shadows are not drawn out distinctly until
the evening. In this uncertainty there is mercy,
and mercy which One — the One Who has allotted
this blessing of ignorance to all other beings —
did not, when He became man, secure for Himself
But what a blissful possession would ignorance
have been to Him ! What a comfort is it even
to me who have no reason to expect any particular
sorrows, or at all events none approaching to those
that He endured. For, if the shadows of the
dark future were visible in the sunshine of my
present life, what a difference would this knowledge
make to me !
To mention one point only, and that by no
means the most important. Whilst I am writing
this, my daughter Mabel is by my side — my Mabel,
not yet eleven years old, as the Spanish Liberals
once sung, when they believed in Isabel, now an
Ex-Queen. Mabel, my ewe lamb, is by my side as
usual; and I read in her eyes, I learn from her
32 CROES Y BRKILA.
words, that I am everything to her. So I, who
being her father, love her a thousand times better
than she, being a child, can ever love me, am
thankful and happy in her love. But how should
I feel now, if I knew all that is to come to pass
in reference to myself and her ?
Without imagining anything dreadful — which I
have no reason to ex^Dect — let us see what the
future may probably have in store for both of us.
In ten years I shall have lost many, perhaps all,
my present friends, including her who is the
truest friend of them all ; and I may have acquired
none of any sort, certainly I shall have acquired
none to take the place of those who call me by
the nick-name of my boyhood. But Mabel by
that time will be rich in friends, some of whom
are likely enough to be thinking of assuming a
relationship still more tender. Ten years hence I
must not expect to be lit for much work, while
Mabel will be in her full bloom. So, if she should
be S2:)ared till then, she will have become more
necessary to me than ever. In those dark days, I
shall, perhaps be dependent upon the affectionate
care of her whom I have reared in my bosom, and
who is to me much more than the truest sister
IN THE DARK NIGHT. 33
could be. But what shall I be to her ? I shall
not be so much then as I am now. Shall I even be
able to retain her in my home ? Should I not
be compromising her happiness, and consequently
my owai, by embarking on such an enterprise ? And
if I were convinced that her own welfare depended
upon her clinging to me, as Ruth clung to Naomi,
would she not in all probability play the part of
Orpah, and leave me with a kiss ?
The truth is, that in those evil days to come,
a rival is pretty sure to make his appearance, and
also to supplant me in Mabel's heart. Some after-
noon a young scapegrace will want to speak to me in
my study, and he will tell me that my Mabel has
consented to be his wife. He has only a Bungalow
in Bombay to offer, or still worse, an Estancia on
the Plate ; but then he has told her what her
future life will be, and she is delighted at her
prospects, and thinks that nothing could be more
charming than roughing it in the Bush with
Charley, and helping to reform him, poor fellow.
Of course she is pleased with these ideas, for I
have taken care that she should have no notion
of the roughnesses of this world, and she has very
4
34 CROES Y BREILA.
little conception of the sort of being a rake really
is. So she will go away Avitli the happy man
gladly ; and after that terrible day of her marriage,
that day when everybody will have ofi'ered to me
their jovial congratulations, and I shall have been
so miserable, I shall never see the face of my
darling, my firstborn, again on earth.
All this, or something like this, or possibly
something much worse than this, may take place.
But I don't know that it will take place ; and
because nothing is certain, I, who rarely look
forward, and have no desire to meet sorrows half-
way, am contented and happy. For the present
moments are very enjoyable. I believe in my little
daughter, and I lose no opportunity of showering
down on her head the abimdance of my love. I
am grateful also for many other blessings, but
especially grateful when I think that I know
nothing beyond the present day.
But then how do these considerations cause me
to feel for Him who knew all things, for Him
who was emphatically —
Prudens futuri temporis exitum.
There lived One, who, during the thirty-three
years of His mortal existence, foresaw with fear-
IN THE DARK NIGHT. 35
fill distinctness all which was ever to happen,
not only to Himself, but also to those about Him.
And how terrible must that foreknowledge have
been ! Loneliness, ingratitude, ignominy, agony,
death ! All of these were coming, and every one
of them held in its hand a cup of bitterness, which
had, for a great end, to be drunk to the dregs.
There was a day when Jerusalem hailed Him as
the heir of that heroic king, who had been the
most renowned of earth's autocrats. On that day
excited crowds strewed palm branches on His path,
and a people, crushed down with suffering,
accepted Him as a Saviour and a Monarch. It
was an hour of triumph, no doubt ; but the
same ears which caught the sound of the Hosannas,
cauo-ht also, and at the same moment, the echoes
of the execrations which were to be poured forth so
soon. And hear what He said, not indeed on this
occasion, but on another hardly less happy, to all
appearance — " Do ye now believe ? The hour is
coming, and now is, when ye will leave Me alone."
Truly that Man was the Man of sorrows ; for
He was acquainted with the grief of the past, of
the present, and of the future also. We must
thank God for giving us that bright light of His
8G CROES Y BKKILA.
Gospel, which arose out of" this sea of atiiiction ;
but we shoukl also not foi-get to thank Him
for surrounding us, in other respects, with the
shadows and the darkness of that night which
He, by reason of His omniscience, could not
enjoy.
^HE Ruler of a ravaged ruined State
Sighed out, in lonely sadness, "God is great,"
Then meekly yielded to his bitter fate.
His victor paid his thanks to God and man
By kissing Mary's image, the Kasan.
Which had the faith — the Turk or Russian ?
STAMBOUL FOR ITALY. 37
^tamljoul for Ktalg.
^ BEAT CONSTANTINE, lie looked around
The world which owned his rule ;
And by the Dardanelles he found
Its key, and corner-stone — and crowned
Imperial Stamboul.
And still her ocean river flows
Two continents between,
Still on her hills the m}T.-tle grows,
And still her vales are green ;
But now, exhausted by the throes
Which coming dissolution knows,
Is the black Euxine's Queen.
Then, since the pride of Islam droops,
Doomed by its dee-p self- scorn,
Must we be still, while Eussia stoops
Upon the Golden Horn ?
No ! though they fail us at the pinch,
"Whom once we helped to free ;
Though one may snarl, and one may flinch,
And one exhausted be,
As at Vittoria, inch by iuch
We'll wm the mastery.
38 CROES Y BREILA.
Win ! and for what ? That hour by hour
Imperious impotence may shower
Its curses on the guardian Giaour ?
Win ! and for what ? That sword and gun
May end the bloody work begun
Amid the yells of Lebanon ?
Win ! and for what ? That lust may build
Its new kiosk, its harem gild,
For this shall England's blood be spilled ?
No ! not for this ; once, only once,
Could charity forget
The code of Islam ; e'en the dunce
Learns something from regret.
Down with the Sultan ; 'twould be worth
An hour of glorious dangers
To free the fairest spot on earth
From those who stamp its vales with dearth,
And mock its shrines with scornful mirth,
And use its fonts for mangers.
They have not ploughed, they have not spun ;
But like voracious maggots,
Right to the core their way have won ;
And now the feast is almost done,
The fruit trees turned to faggots,
Down with them ; down ! and up with — whom ?
Whose form shall fill the vacant room,
STAMBOUL FOK ITALY, 39
When Bey aud Pacha meet their doom ?
The heir of Stamboul thou must he,
Home of the C^sars — Italy.
Itaha ! at thy glorious name
All rivalry recedes for shame;
Mother of heroes ! who can show
Such children as thine own ?
Camillus, Fabius, Scipio,
So great they would not deign to go,
One step towards a throne,
On which their brethren, less divine,
Sate godlike, Julius, Constantine ;
Nor those alone ; for when the world
Its rotten crowns to chaos hurled.
And drunk with fiery draughts of war,
The eagles of the tricolor
O'er sullen Moscow shone.
Whom hailed they Lord of King aud Czar ?
Italia's child, that dazzling star,
The Great Napoleon !
And who, when he was forced to own
His dreapas of triumph vain ;
Who, when he flew to guard a throne
Which rested on his might alone,
Who seized the broken rein ?
Who stayed to nerve the Gaul's retreat
40 CROES y KRKILA.
Tlirougli fog and hiUTicaiic and sleet,
Across those dreary wastes, whereon
Swarmed the avengers from the Don,
The Ural, and Ukraine ?
Not thine, brave Prince of Moskowa,
Nor thine " advanced guard King," Murat,
Of Austerlitz and Areola
The spirit to retain ;
But first in rallies and attacks.
And last to yield and turn their backs,
And gayest at cold bivouacks.
Were they of Kome and Latium,
Of Umbria and Samnium,
The rearguard with Eugene !
Nurse of the brave in days gone by,
Thy heart is still the same ;
Oppressors could not drain it dry,
Nor anarchists inflame.
And if, of yore, his Eome to save,
A hero leaped his steed
Right down that deep sepulchral cave,
"Which closed upon the deed,^
Did not the band which freed the land
The race of Curtius know,
Cavour and Garibaldi ; and
II Re galantuomo ?
A BURNIXG QUESTION. 4 1
Tlien never fear, tliy way is clear,
The night is past, the morn is here ;
Hail, empire of the free !
Down with the Sultan and his line,
Up with the heirs of Constantiue !
Stamboul for Italy !
it iSttvntus €tucst(on.
e
0F burning questions, newest lights,
Of labour's wrongs, and woman's rights,
Brimful is Go-ahead ;
He burns his fingers when he writes,
And in the burning thought delights
Of burning when he's dead.
Zf)t lEastluavSj position.
Our Eastward turning Priests are good, or bad, as
people view them ;
The question is, can people see, or can they not see
through them ?
42 CROES Y BKEILA.
UT of licr bed, on the right side leaped
-c^o^ My Lily, my loveable daughter ;
And giving no trouble to any one, stept
Straight into her tub of cold water.
And she rubbed herself down while her sisters were
dressed,
Who happened that day to be tartars ;
While Lily, of good little girls was the best,
The pink of all nursery parterres.
Then she prayed to the Lord, and she prayed with her
heart,
Her innocent wishes arraying,
And as she had chosen, like Mary, her part,
Like Mary was blest in her praying.
At breakfast, how haj^py, how thankful was she,
Although the toast only was dripping ; ,
And then she tripped off — oh, hoAV blest we should be.
If a fall never followed such tripping.
ON THE WKONG SIDE. 43
(3n ti)t mtvoxxQ Sttrt.
oi
UT of her bed, ou tlie wrong side crept,
i^ My Lily, my petulant daughter ;
And stamping and frowning, she fretted and wept,
And she deluged the house with hot water.
She would not be washed, and she would not be
dressed,
And snatched at her stockings and garters ;
And Janet, for sympathy, screamed, and the rest
Of the family party were martyrs.
And she prayed with her hps, it was playing a part,
And the soul was the worse for her praying ;
For while she was saying, " Our Father, which art,"
She hardly knew what she was saying.
At breakfast, she flooded the butter with tea.
The loaf with her porridge was dripping;
And so the meal ended, at last, with a flea
In her ear ; for I gave her a whipping.
44 CROES Y UHEIT.A.
'HEN morning clouds are hanging low,
And songs are in the air ;
Although we see them not, we know
The larks are hovering there.
When hazy skies at noon-day glow
With summer's sultry glare ;
Although we see them not, we know
The bright cold stars are there.
When aspen leaves wave to and fro,
Pale supj)liants for God's care ;
Although we see them not, we know
The winds of Heaven are there.
Then may this faith within us grow
By grace and earnest prayer ;
Till, though we see Him not, we know
That God is everywhere !
i*oPE. 46
JHE new-born babe who in tlie cradle lies,
br^ As yet for joy or grief has little scope ;
Yet may we oft-times mark the wondering eyes
Kindle with hope.
And hope thus strangely born in earliest years,
Before our earthly cares have well begun,
Strives on with mocking doubts and selfish fears,
Till life be done.
Friendship and love fly off on drooping wdngs,
And youthful pleasure ripens into pain ;
But on the ebbing sands of life, the springs
Of hope remain.
And when the toiling hand and troubled heart
Are laid beneath the Churchyard's sacred sod,
Hope rises thence for man's immortal part,
A hope in God.
Then let us seek, ere in the grave we lie,
That hope in Christ, by penitence and prayer ;
For hope to those who unforgiven die,
Turns to despair.
i6 CROES Y BREILA.
^HERE is a secret which we must not own,
Except to one who is the counterpart;
Yet, while its heavy weight is borne alone,
It rankles like a cancer in the heart.
And thus it was with Hugh, until his brain
Was well-nigh frenzied with the hope deferred ;
And when the day-dream lived 'twas all in vain,
He might not speak the long-forbidden word.
So have I seen a swallow day by day,
Which sought some sheltered corner for her nest.
Still forced by cruel destiny away,
Ere her pink eggs grew warm beneath her breast.
And when at length she found among the eaves
A little nook beyond the spoiler's hand,
Amid the rustling of autumnal leaves.
Came her strange summons to another land.
It was no time for her to build her home,
No time to dream of sweet maternity ;
The voice was in the air which bade her roam
Beyond the dreary, the mysterious sea.
HOPE DEFERRED. 47
Yet liaply as she winged lier destined flight
To some greeu harbour in the West, her tongue
Outpoured the smgle love which once she might
Have shared between lier partner and her young.
So when this world is riven like a scroll,
And on its wreck is built Eternity,
The re-embodied, immaterial soul,
May taste of joys which here must never be.
And fitting words to some angelic strain
The one great secret of existence tell,
Secure that love will not be breathed in vain.
Nor mar the joy of one beloved too well.
^ Stolen Itiss.
Our Vicar loves to kiss his pretty stole ;
'Tis well for him we deem it not amiss,
For the Divine should keep in due control
The human longings for a stolen kiss.
48 CKOES Y BKKII.A.
bp ttjc mttu.
Q^
N tlie country which all the civiUsed worhl
(^ calls by the name of Holy — in spite of the
state of degradation into which it has fallen — a
Avoman was returning to her home one evening.
She had been to the well which supplied the
city where she lived ; and from it she was
bearing, in a jntcher, the water required for the
supper of a churlish and penurious, but rich
husband.
Wonder and awe seemed engraven on her coun-
tenance, in lines which were not likely to be
obliterated ; yet traces of a strange indefiuable joy,
might occasionally be seen passing across that face,
like the ripples with which a gust from the sur-
rounding mountains streaks the dark depths of
Gennesaret. And sometimes aloud, yet still more
often in a whisper, she repeated these words,
" He told me all that ever I did."
" Told you all that ever you did, Marah ! "
cried one of her female neighbours, who over-
heard this strange refrain. " ' Told you all that
ever you did ! ' Who has told you everything,
BY THE WELL. 49
or indeed anything about yourself, which all of
us have not heard often ? What have you ever
done Avhich we don't know ? You married old
Barjonas, a stingy fellow, who is rich enough to
keejD slaves to wait on you ; but he loves his
money better than he loves anything else, except
perhaps his evening meal. You would marry
him, you know ; because your dowry was lost
when that accursed Herod sacked Migdol. You
would not have poor Nathan, of Shimron, and
now he has gone away, nobody knows where.
You could not make up your mind to marry
him, because he was not likely to keep you in
idleness, which you — a Prince's daughter — loved
better than you loved him. And that was your
reason also for slighting Manasses, my poor brother,
who died of a sunstroke in the barley harvest ;
died, because he wanted to show you how strong
he was, and therefore, how well able to protect
you. Nor would you listen to Judas, of Galilee,
who joined the army of the vassal king, the slave-
monarch of Egypt, and fell fighting in Goshen ;
nor silly Simon either, who used to carry
your pitcher from the well, in spite of our jeers;
5
50 CROKS Y HRKILA.
nor that other one, I forget his name, and all
about him ; but, I know that you have broken
the h(>arts of five brave men. And what good
have 3'ou done to yourself after all ? However,
the old usurer is your husband, and you have
to obey hira, though you can't love him."
All this was too true, Marah had hoped to
escape the drudgery of life, by her marriage, and
had been disappointed. She had, in fact, incurred
slavery without acquiring any recompense in return.
But Barjonas, much as she abhorred him now, was
her husband. Her husband ! At least she had
thought that he stood in that hallowed relationship
towards her until that day. Now she knew that
the wretch was not, in reality, her husband. Five
times in succession had she given her heart, an
honest heart it once was, receiving a faithful and
true heart in return ; on each of these occasions she
had been wedded in the sight of the ever-present
God. She had had five husbands. The sixth time
she had been wedded with much pomp and cere-
mony in the sight of man, but then she was not
married at all in the sight of God. She had
given her heart before, and each time a merciful
God had hallowed the union. She had sold her
BY THE WELL. 5 1
body the sixth time*, and no amount of religious
celebrations could ever hallow that unholy allinnce.
A wife she now was in some sort, but a true wife
no longer to anybody ; for her live husbands were
in their graves, killed each one of them by her.
The Stranger at the well, the man with the marred
yet Godlike face, had sounded the depths of her
soul. He had, indeed, told her all that ever she
did.
That Stranger was Jesus of Nazareth, Who speaks
to us all through our conscience, and to some,
who stand high in this world, the voice is as
startling and as suggestive as it was to the woman
BY THE WELL.
52 CROES Y BKEILA.
mjc SStittjcvctf iEtsjlttoc.
°^0U ask me, lady, if this leaf
Is sacred to a joy or grief ?
Thus spoke a soldier. Lord Alaine,
Then turned away, as though he fain
Would leave her thus, and go ;
But Edith said, "Some happy fair
Plucked it for thee, and hence your care
Of that dead misletoe — "
She, laughing, ceased ; and he replied,
" Thou art too fair to be denied,
And fate will have it so.
Then hear my tale, which hopes to earn
Not even pity in return."
®i ...
fleft an only sister, when across the wnitry main
We hurried at Sir Arthur's call to fight the
French in Spain ;
And it chanced as we were riding o'er the dying and
the dead,
When Marmont's rent hattalions from Salamanca fled.
There came above the mingled yells, the trumpet, and
the drum,
My sister's voice, in pleading tones, it whispered,
" Edgar, come I "
II
THE WITHEEED MISLETOE. 53
And little did I tarry when they gave me leave to go,
By day and night I travelled, and the swiftest horse
was slow ;
For across the wasted cornfields, and above the city's
hum,
There sighed the same mysterious voice, still whispering,
' ' Brother, come ! "
They must have deemed me maddened when, in passing
o'er the sea,
Amid the band which carried home the news of
victory,
I walked along the crowded deck, in sUence, and apart.
With an eye which gazed on vacancy, and a foreboding
heart.
And when amid a thunderstorm, the dreary sounds
were heard
Of the creaking of the cordage, and the tempest-boding
bird,
I heeded not the hurricane, for in its wildest might,
When it wrestled with the angry waves on that
disastrous night —
There was the same low wailing moan, that murmur of
unrest,
Which first I heard amid the guns on La Cabanas crest.
At length the wished-for morning dawned, and Dover's
cliffs were seen,
54 CROES Y BEEILA.
"Which guard the home of liberty, the ocean's Emprest
Queen ;
Bat not the sailors' happy cheers, nor the huzzaing |
town,
Could keep that voice of boding, that lamentation down.
At length I reached my own old home, it seemed
untenanted,
But there lay a living skeleton, my sister on her bed.
" Look up, dear Mary, I, Alaine, am come to thee," I
cried ;
"And art thou here at last," in tones reproachful, she
replied ;
" Then I will tell thee all my grief, 'tis well that you
should know,
For you will place within my grave this withered
misletoe."
She spoke, and slowly opening the foldings of her vest,
There lay a branch of misletoe upon my sister's breast.
I shuddered, for an early death, or else a hfe of pain
Had been the lot of all who bore our hapless name,
Alaine,
If they dared to touch a single leaf of that mysterious
bough,
Which on my dying sister's heart was madly cherished
now.
" My Mary, cast our curse away," in agony I cried.
4
THE WITHERED MISLETOE. 55
" First hear me, Edgar, ere you blame," the weeping
girl replied.
Thus rau her tale : " You left your home, aud scarce a
mouth had passed,
When Alice died, our faithful nurse, my best friend and
my last ;
But fortune seemed awhile to smile, for a kinsman,
Lord of Bray,
To whom our sire committed us upon his dying day —
With a letter full of kindly words, a trusty servant sent
To offer me a home with him ; there thankfully I went.
And merry was that summer in the old Grange of
Boclere,
For the gayest and the bravest loved to loiter by my
chair.
At length the winter brought the yule, and all the
grateful earth
Was clad in white to celebrate its Lord's, the Saviour's
bu'th ;
Aud every heart was full of joy, but none so full as
mine,
For I was pledged to dance that night with Edward
Argentine.
He wore a branch of misletoe conspicuous on his breast,
And 80 did all within the hall, 'twas the Lord Bray's
behest ;
56 CEDES Y BREILA.
But I had vainly strived to twine its dark leaves in
my hair,
My hand refused the ill-omened deed, I could not place
them there.
He saw, and whispered, ' Mary, dear, this must not,
shall not be,
Then take a leaf of misletoe and wear it, 'tis from me;
For only thus, and always thus, an Ai-gentine, 'tis said,
Must woo a maiden to his side, if he would blithely
wed.'
Then who may tell the maddening thoughts which
raged within my soul.
There was the tide of wild delight, too turbid for
control ;
But there rose before my swimming eyes the pale form
of my nurse,
And there rung within my startled ears — Alaine's
enduring curse.
But I took the gift he offered, and I sunk upon the
floor,
Amid the dance, in deadly trance, my dream of joy
was o'er !
For suddenly the music ceased, and through the
crowded hall
Bung out discordant, jarring sounds — I understood them
all—
THE WITHEKED MISLETOE. 57
There was my Edward's voice of love, recalling me to life,
In accents full of kindness, as his darling, as his wife ;
As yet unheeding the loud taunts, which I, alas ! could
mark,
The brutal threats, too soon flung back, of Adrian von
Starke.
' Mein Gott,' he cried, ' and have you dared for a village
maiden's tear
To shght my sister Margaret, when Adrian is here ;
But if a Swabian countess must be jilted for this girl,
A challenge at your perjured head. Lord Argentine, I
hurl ! '
In part a dream, this might have been, but when I
lived again,
Blood had been shed. Count Adrian lived, my Edward
had been slain."
Here Edgar paused, then sighing said, " The end is neariug
now,
What Argentine to Mary was, Edith, to me art thou.
Now listen ; on a Christmas Eve beneath a tree we
stood.
An old oak tree, Augustine's tree, the patriarch of your
wood ;
How came we there, and thus alone, did I mean to
speak the word ?
58 CROES Y BEEILA.
A raven broke the silence, how you started as yon
heard —
But I hailed the happy omen ; for a raven marked the
shield
Of the Alaine on Crecy's plain, and Towton's bloody
field.
Again it croaked, revealing where it nestled overhead,
Then through the branches crashed the shot, the raven
fell stone dead ;
And gun in hand, Count Adrian came, the man I
most abhorred,
The slayer of my sister's heart, your bosom's chosen lord.
And you remember not, it seems — but I shall ne'er
forget
How, when I strangled for your sake the rapture of a
threat.
You pressed my hand, you gave me this, you turned
with him to go,
I placed it in my breast, although I knew 'twas
misletoe.
Then darkness closed around me, and the snow was
falling fast,
And spirits of my hapless race came riding on the
blast.
There was the skin-clad mountain chief, the first, the
worst Alaine,
THE WITHERED MISLETOE. 59
Who bore upon his brow a mark, for he had killed hke
Cain —
Had killed to win the wily smile, and pamper the
revenge
Of a beautiful idolatress, the witch-wife of Stouehenge.
And placed the Druid's hateful badge, the mis-begotten tree
Upon God's altar, on the eve of the Nativity.
And there was some I knew not, but there was one I
knew.
The victim of her fatal love, as beautiful as you ;
She stood beneath the oak, she stroked the raven's
glossy head.
And pointing to that bleeding breast, my spectre sister fled.
Here Edgar stopped, then added, " Now farewell, Count
Adrian's bride,
For I must die, yet not be laid by my poor sister's side."
He fell ; and though before his time, he had not lived
in vain.
For on a heap of Chasseurs killed, green Chasseurs of
Tom-aine,
Hard by the Farm of Hougoumont lay the Brigadier
Alaine,
And the fatal gash, the sabre slash, which laid that
soldier low,
Cut through a leaf, a little leaf, of withered misletoe.
60 CEOES Y BREILA.
l3voluuttr.
r^OUND drowned!
Qli grief profound !
Oh verdict hard to bear by those who weep,
Beside the deep,
O'er loved ones cast ashore in death's grim sleep.
Long drowned !
Yet never found !
Oh harder still to mourn the loved, for whom
Earth has no tomb,
Whereon tlie asphodels of Easter bloom.
But found
Will be the drowned,
The tombless drowned, when the lone trumpet's blast
Eeveals at last
The secrets of the future, and the past.
ILL SUCCESS. 61
Ml Success,
Trr^TEECK of a coufident lioije, the bravest can hardly
^!^y' endure it ;
Hardly endure it at morn, when the life-boat is soonest
refitted ;
Hardly live through it at eve, the eve of a lingering
autumn,
When on a plentiful field, too ready to welcome the
reapers,
Pelts the chill pitiless hail, till it thrashes the corn in
the furrows ;
But the worst downfall is his, whose anathemas home-
ward returning,
Like the foul boomerang, aim at the impotent Annas
who hurled them.
■^^l^^&~
62 CROKS Y BREILA.
(Midler).
SLOGAN, like tbc thuudor's roar,
The clash of swords, or waves ashore,
The Rhine ! the Ehine ! the Germau Rhine !
Who guards that stream in battle line ?
Be calm, dear Fatherland of mine,
The watch stands stedfast on the Rhine.
Through tens of thousands runs the cry,
And brightly flashes every eye ;
The Germans, gentle, brave, and pure,
That holy landmark will secure —
Be calm, dear Fatherland of mine,
The watch stands stedfast on the Rhine.
And though my spirit death should tame.
Thou shalt not bear the Frenchman's name ;
Rich as in waters is thy flood.
So Deutschland is in heroes' blood.
Be calm, dear Fatherland of mine.
The watch stands stedfast on the Rhine.
THE RHINE WATCH. 68
So gazing heavenward, where at rest
His sires look down, heroic, blest,
He swears with loud chivalrous cry,
Rhine shall be German, as will I.
Be calm, dear Fatherland of mine.
The watch stands stedfast on the Rhine.
The oath rings out, the waters flow,
Flags flutter, where the breezes blow ;
The Rhine ! the Rhine ! the German Rhine !
We all will guard thee, all be thine.
Be calm, dear Fatherland of mine.
The watch stands stedfast on the Rhine.
04 CROES Y BREILA.
<dn tiftc ^Pt of tljc Smiftitc P?otst,
S lie who sits upou the eye
Of the White Horse at Cherhill,
The stately outline to descry
Of Hengist's charger is too nigh ;
And only sees the chalk-fiints lie
In water-courses sterile,
So loomed a hillside Bard, too grand
For those who trod him under ;
They saw the spirit on the sand,
Spilled by his left, his mortal hand;
But saw not, nor could understand
That from his right, rolled thunder.
But we, more distant from its base,
That Scotch heart judge more truly ;
And, while the sunrise on the face
Brings out each sad, colossal grace.
The features of a Memnon trace,
And love the dead man duly.
ON THE EYE OF THE WHITE HOESE. 65
Who has uot felt his spirit glow,
For her, that wife true-hearted,
"Who down the hill of life would go,
And share the grave with him helow.
With him, John Anderson, her jo,
Loath only to he parted ?
Or who, that leaves for night's dark air
His flagon or decanter,
Forgets to breathe a cheerful prayer,
To be preserved from every snare
Of him, who docked the flying mare
Of merry Tarn o' Shanter ?
Then ye, who struggling for renown,
Are racked with mocking laughter,
Think of the White Horse on the down,
And care not for man's present frown,
K only ye can win the crown
And sceptre of Hereafter.
00 CROKS Y HREILA.
tHo «)c l\iQi)t ^mx, mx. IB. (^latrsjtonc.
1jp)LY the axe, the chips are flying,
•^^^ Chck, and creak, and crash ;
On the dinted turf is lying,
Felled hy thco, an ash.
Let the huge limbs be disjointed.
Square the graceful head,
Lop the branches, ebon-pointed,
All the tree is dead.
Life is gone, and gone for ever.
Great the gap may be.
But 'tis useless to endeavour
To uprear the tree.
Is it thus when man is smitten
To the ground by sin ?
Is the condemnation written.
He must die therein ?
Die without a hope of pardon !
Die without recall !
Like the ash-tree at thy Hawarden,
Prostrate once for all ?
TO THE RIGHT HON, W. E. GLADSTONE. 67
No, there is a restoration
For a fallen race ;
For the penitent salvation,
For the contrite grace ;
And a joyful Easter breaketh
"When the Lent is done,
And the slumberer awaketh
With the morning sxxn.
^ffeS OD makes the worthless priceless, as the dews
^t:5^ Drawn upwards from the salt, the barren main,
O'er parched and hungry continents diffuse
The joyous produce of the fruitful rain.
So, if our hearty prayers to heaven arise,
The answer they, who share our lives, will see,
In love, contentment, truth, self-sacrifice.
And above all, divine humility.
08 CROES Y BEEILA.
'•■ jT>^ET gladness span grief's overflow,"
■^^ God speaks, and lo ! 'tis done;
The rain must show its latent bow,
If He unveils His sun.
'Twas thus, when from Megiddo's fray,
Sore smitten to the marrow,
The Son of Amon bore away
Mizraim's fatal arrow ;
For then by Accho's crescent shore,
By bitter waters rolling o'er
The foulness of Gomorrha;
By Hermon's Hill, and Succoth's vale,
Arose the Hadadrimmon wail,
A hurricane of sorrow.
On Merom and on Chinnereth,
The fishers in their ships
Drew near to shore, and held their breath.
With pale and parted lips ;
The herdsmen on Tekoah's plains,
Unyoked their oxen from the wains.
And stood in mute despair ;
Then "All is lost, all lost" they said,
HULDAH. 69
And left tlie bending rye to slied
Its over-ripened grain, and fled
Tliey knew not, recked not, where.
O'er Bethlem's Bills the untended sheep
Went wandering, wild, and scattered,
The shepherds only cared to weep,
For hope was dead, what mattered ?
What mattered all the world might take,
Their love, their grief it could not shake ;
What mattered all the world might give,
It could not bid their monarch live.
So, winding sackcloth round their serge.
His sorrowing people sang the dirge
Of their anointed Lord,
Their Lord who lay beyond the reach
Of gentle or ungentle speech,
Asleep beneath the sward.
For him they mourned, and Huldah led
Josiali's burial song,
With tongue that trembled, heart that bled,
And ashes sprinkled on a head
Bent down with anguish strong.
Alas for Huldah ! she had known
That sorrow many a day.
Had heard it wail around the throne,
70 CUOES Y BREILA.
And gone to meet it, she alone,
With boding heart, half-way ;
Had heard it in the mingled yell
Of wrath, and grief, when Anion fell,
To luurderous traitors sold ;
Had heard it in the shouts of joy,
Which greeted Anion's royal boy,
A king at eight years old.
Amid the clattering of the steel,
The charger's neigh, the trumpet's peal,
The pattering of men's feet ;
Amid the bustle, and the hum,
The tabret, dulcimer, and drum,
From housetop, porch, and street,
That ghost-like presence whispering came,
And ever changing, yet the same :
Above the blessing of the priest,
Above the uproar at the feast,
Above the coronation strain.
It rose, and fell, and rose again.
Nor, if at times 'twould seem to pass,
Like shadows, fading from a glass
O'erelouded by a breath.
Could Judah's prophetess forget
That all around her, lingerin^^' yet,
HULDAH, 71
"Were auguries of death ; •
Aud well she kuew that each reprieve
Must hid her heart, coudeinned to grieve,.
Grieve more, and ever more ;
For 'twas a tide which hemmed her in,
That full spring tide, which faiu would win
A broader belt of shore ;
The farther rolled the ebbing sound,
The nearer, at the next rebound,
Flowed up its threatening roar.
Aud so the fate, which dogged the King,
"Was in the hammer's cheery ring ;
The destiny athirst for blood
Was in the mallet's weary thud,
When stone and timber, fitting well,
Upreared his royal citadel.
His holy house of prayer ;
It seemed to mingle with each breath,
And taint the springs of life with death ;
To modify on every side
Each tone, itself unmodified ;
Anon, 'twas piteous, as the cry
Of some poor leveret,
Which sees the supple weasel nigh, -
And blindly leaping, loath to die,
7'2 CROES Y BREII.A.
Falls backward, jjowerless to fly,
Aud writhing in the net :
Anon, 'twas like the fernowl's screech,
Anon, the struggling after speech.
When frenzy stirs the dumb :
She could not catch the words, but still
8he knew their import boded ill,
And that the blow must come.
Nor, when to learn their country's fate
The Lords of Judah went,
And flocking round her Mishneh gate,
Poured forth their discontent :
Could Huldali hope to still their dread,
Or bid their grief be comforted ;
But hers to in'ophesy of woe,
A charge, a crash, an overthrow ;
A flying chariot hurrying out
- A wounded monarch fi'om a rout ;
An arrow keen, and barbed ; a cry
x\s w4ien the first-boni woke to die ;
And then a little pause ; and then
Another muster of armed men ;
Another charge, a flight, a slaughter ;
And high above the din
The ghostly voice of Laban's daughter.
HULDAH.
Bewailing Benjamin ;
And then a street where cattle grazed ;
A temple sacked, polluted, razed ;
A loathsome trench that served for graves ;
A people, captives, exiles, slaves ;
A row of harps, and all tinstning.
On willows by Euphrates hung ;
Such were the scenes of which she spake,
And yet she said, " This message take,
This comfort to your chief ;
Tell him, that ere his heart has known
The ills which crush a falling throne,
A starving people's insults rude,
A courtier's sleek ingratitude ;
He, with his noble form unbowed,
With look so lofty, yet not proud ;
He, with the music of a tongue.
Which guides the old, and charms the young ;
With ample brow, unwrinlded still,
And hand, unmatched for strength and skill,
With soul on mighty projects bent,
And buoyed on depths of calm content,
And fulness of belief ;
Shall snap the cords of fate, and free
His richly-freighted argosy,
And spread its silvery sails, and find
74 CROES Y BREILA '
Tlie breeze, wliich leaves tlie clouds behind,
And anchor, where the troubled wave
Is calmed at once — a soldier's grave."
But though she knew for him 'twas best
To leave the world, and be at rest ;
Yet, when Megiddo's fight was o'er,
And Kislion, foul Avith dust, and gore,
Flushed seaward, iu the snow-wliite spray-
To wash dishonour's stain away ;
A sorrow, darker in its hue
Thau she had dreamed of, pierced her through ;
She could have borne to see him die.
Had triumph fired l^is glazing eye ;
But thus to fall ! that Amou's son
Should perish", serving Babylon !
And hated Egypt strike the blow,
Which laid the Lord of Judah low !
This was a burden hard to bear.
What marvel then if her despair
Broke into strains she could not stem,
A wild, impatient requiem —
To see ! to know '! ^ ^
What is it Vmt to welcome woe ?
In Eden it was even so.
HULDAH. 75
God said to Eve,
" Thine eyes are open, thou must leave
This happy garden ; See \ and grieve ! "
'Twas thus with me,
A prophetess I fain would be.
And I have been — of misery.
Long, long ago,
I saw the world in deadly throe,
And evil breaking from below.
I saw it all,
The flight of arrows, and the fall,
The deathbed, and the funeral.
And yet, poor slave !
My hero king I could not save,
Nor turn him from his open grave.
Then happy they.
Who only see from day to day
Their little portion of life's way.
Who onward go
To fiery mountains capped with snow ;
And reach, and scale them, ere they know.
For why ? 'tis gi-een
Beneath their footsteps, and unseen
Those distant hills, those depths between.
7G - CROES Y BEEILA.
Therefore to know,
What is it but to welcome woe ?
For me, for him, it has been i90.
She ceased, and to lier ears once more
That whisper came, as heretofore ;
Yet not as heretofore, for then
'Twas like the cry of stifled men,
Deep in the miner's dangerous hive
Interred, and hopeless, though alive;
But now 't^Yas like a bugle tone,
Upon some Alpine summit blown,
Which, mingling with the mountain breeze,
High o'er the tops of giant trees.
Speeds on in unimpeded flight
To yon ice torrent opposite ;
And thence returns in circles wide,
By echo's magic multiplied.
Weird, shadowy sounds, which seem the lay
Of heavenly minstrels, far away.
Weep not for him.
The eye thou deemest closed, and dim,
Is gazing on the Cherubim.
Nor grieve that he
Was conquered ; dost thou fail to see
What seemed defeat, was victory ?
HULDAH. 77
Nor he alone
Of Kings, the heirs to Judah's throne,
For Judah's Kfe must give his own ;
The Good, the Just,
The Christ, in whom the Angels trust,
Must thus be humbled to the dust.
Dying, must feel
The thorn, the nail, the spearman's steel.
And tread on death with bleeding heel.
Then happy they,
Who see beyond the present day.
And know the ending of their way !
For such are blest :
God ordereth all things for the best ;
So welcome toil, and welcome rest.
Each may be gain ;
Each joy His sunshine, and each pain,
His furrow, glistening with His rain ;
But farewell fear,
To God's elect it comes not near,
Their life begins when death is here.
78 CROES Y BREILA.
Breathless she stood, and listening, but tlie voice
Was mute, which bade the mourner's heart rejoice,
Its work complete ; for as, while all was dark,
Au Angel wrestled with the Patriarch,
Yet left that tired one iit the dawn, and blessed
The ended struggle, and the endless rest.
So light on Huldali broke, and light sufficed
To clothe her world with verdure, for 'twas Christ.
Efjc ittng's jFtast.
p^OPi all a Kingly Feast is spread,
%/^ For all who come, a Eoyal dress,
The Feast, a Saviour's Wine and Bread !
The garb, His perfect Holiness !
How fares he then who turns away.
Thus called by God to be His guest ?
If we reject Him all the day.
Shall we with Him at midnight rest ?
A PICTURE BY DORE. 79
M picttivc iJP ^oxt.
o^
ijT^O! how the haud of Dore has portrayed
'■^^ The suffering soul by faith victorious made,
lu the huge shambles which Vespasian planned,
The streams of human blood have dyed the sand.
'Tis night, the crowd has gone, its hideous howls
No longer drown the bounding tiger's growls ;
A horrid night ; for still the full-fed beast
Snarls loud defiance, tearing at its feast.
But o'er the seats, which tier on tier arise,
Like a dark hill against the starlit skies.
Descending angels winged with love, are come
To raise the dead, whose death was martyrdom —
A noble end, and yet a joyous yell
Went up from thousands, when each Christian fell ;
Then what infringement of Imperial laws
Had doomed their bodies to the lions' jaws ?
How had they sinned, who perished side by side.
So young, so fair, that bridegroom and his bride ?
Wealth had been theirs, a long ancestral line,
A stately homestead on the Palatine ;
A name revered for worth without pretence,
And looks which spoke of happy innocence ;
80 CROES Y BREILA.
"What clouds had darkened their meridian sun,
What treason planned, or sacrilege begun ?
Their crime was love, a love for Christ their Lord,
His perfect love their infinite reward ;
And yet across their peril had been laid
An easy bridge, the path attractive made ;
For this the choice, "to Venus incense give,
Those grains of blissful incense, and ye live ;
Eefuse this adoration, and ye die."
"Then die we will," their resolute reply;
" There is one God alone, yet not alone,
Whose triple presence fills His single throne ;
In Him we tiust, and though the world be dark,
Christ is the bow of promise, and the ark."
Oh, mighty power of faith, a power above
The dread of death, the ecstasy of love ;
They who in weakness are made strong by Thee,
Fall, if they fall, achieving victory.
AN EVENING COMMUNION. 81
)WAS sunset, over sky and hill
Those lingering rays were shed,
Which, like true glory's haloes, still
Tell of a Day-star dead.
And night's funereal mantle grew
More wide in fold, more deep in hue ;
And glad were they, a weary twain,
Their hostelry at length to gain.
He who had joined them, seemed as though
On through the darkness bent to go ;
But will He leave them then, and thus ?
'•Ah, no," they said, "Abide with us.
Abide with us, since on the eve
The night is trenching fast ;
Abide, and aid us to believe
That all the fearful past
Will bring this guilty world's reprieve,
And end in joy at last."
Their prayer was granted ; when was prayer
Addressed in vain to Him ?
Or, while He fought with sin and death
Upon the hills of Nazareth ;
7
82 CEDES Y BREILA,
Or HOW, that He had gone to share
A crown, beyond this world of care,
Between the Cherubim.
Nor was His head in silence bent,
With an unwilling half consent ;
But kindly voice, and gracious w^ord,
Eevealed the joy with which He heard ;
And yet their eyes were dim —
They knew Him not, Who spoke to them
Of Jesus and Jerusalem.
Then entered Christ that hostel's door ;
'Twas full, as thirty years before
Had been the inn, when Mary bore
Her Child, upon the manger floor
At lowly Bethlehem ;
Like waifs upon an angry shore,
None welcomed Him, or them.
But soon the supper, duly spread.
Was on the table, wine, and bread ;
Then broke the Guest their barley cake,
And said, " Keceive it for My sake,"
Aud vanished, while He gave.
They gazed enraptured ; at their side
Had stood their Lord, the Crucified !
Arisen from the grave !
AN EMSNING COMMUNION. 83
But had He left them iu that hour,
When, Hke an Aaron's rod,
Their tree of Kfe burst into flower,
An oHve tree of God ?
No, He was there, though lost to view ;
As when, uprising from the dew,
The songster of the sky
Eains down melodious raptures over
That spot, where, half concealed by clover,
Peers forth a watchful eye;
For though the swelling quivering throat
Of him, above the clouds afloat,
She may not hope to mark ;
Yet, while that soaring pilgrim sings,
Though all around be dark,
A heaven, amid his carollings,
Dawns on the brooding lark.
Then shall we say 'tis vain to seek
The ever-living Word ?
Or that petitions, pure and meek,
By Jesus are unheard ?
No, wheresoe'er His people meet,
Or in religion's calm retreat,
Or in the ship at sea,
S4 CROES Y BREILA.
There, with the Blessed Paraclete,
Dispensing grace is He.
He deigns His symbol to impress
Upon the infant's head ;
He comes, the marriage feast to bless,
He smooths the dying bed.
And calms the bursts of wild distress
At burials of the dead.
Yet though the Lord be ever near,
His people to assist,
And though each moment in the year
Should yield its Eucharist,
Yet there are times, when closer still,
And closer, draws the Word,
• With blessings, hoHer than thy hill,
Gerizim, ever heard.
'Tis not in thunder, nor in fire,
But in the still small voice.
He comes, and hark ! a heavenly choir
Bids a lost heart rejoice ;
Anon, in consecrated domes.
Anon, amid palatial homes,
Anon, beneath the rafters bare,
Where fevered want might else despair,
That Voice is heard ; and unto each
AN EVENING COMMUNION.
It breathes the same mysterious speech :
" This is my Body. Take, and eat,
In memory of Me,
My Bread, the true, hfe-giving meat,
Of Him who died for thee !
And drink ye all this hallowed Wine,
The Blood, which once w^as spent,
To be the Sacramental sign.
Sealing my Testament ! "
High Sacrifice of thanks and praise !
Foretaste of feasts in Heaven !
Bless Thou our cup in joyous days !
Ou.r bread at midnight leaven !
^HIS strange trusteeship of the bankrupt Turk,
Believe me, England, will be dangerous work;
More dangerous still to take his isle as pay ;
Such acquisitions filch true strength away ;
Savoy and Nice, like Cyprus, seemed a gain,
But what tlieir cost ? 'Twas Alsace and Lorraine.
86 CROES Y BREILA.
^t eapri— II Contrast,
(V-.
"iT^EE the foul presence of Imperial Eome
(^^^ Sbamed the frail Sirens in their island home
With beads ei-ect, and looking o'er the sea
To Psestum here, and there ParthenopS)
And wanton arms outstretched to either bay,
The sprites of Capri sang their magic lay.
"Ye who Avould revel in the soft delight
Of sunny spi-ing in life's December night ;
Would toy with peace a,mid the whirl of war.
Here is the camp of Love, the conqueror.
Of Love, who flies the better to pursue,
Who never yields, unless he can subdue ;
And only conquers, that the world may be
Filled with the greatness of his victory."
A Lord of lordly men, who ruled the earth
By the proud title of their Roman birth ;
Feared by his slaves, and thus enslaved by fear.
To these seductive strains gave willing ear :
For he had longed censorious tongues to hush,
To sin in peace, and not be made to blush ;
And though he loved to mark the general awe.
And scoffed at honour, and himself was law.
AT CAPRI A CONTRAST. 87
He deemed that tliey, who faiu would live to shock
A crouching crowd, should vex it from a rock.
So ou these cliffs, a sensual anchorite,
He coiled the massive mainspring of his might ;
Crushed out the soul beneath his baneful rule.
And made the flesh his plaything and his took
An idol he, and absolute his sway.
But underneath the gold what loathsome clay 1
Fronting the couch whereon at noontide sat
This Emperor, this lonely autocrat,
The portrait of Vipsania ! Her frail dress
Eeveals, conceals, increases loveliness ;
'Tis she from whom ambition made him part,
She, who had almost found in him a heart.
And searching, lost her own ; divorced, forlorn.
The widowed mother of his child unborn.
She, whom he left, in spite of claims, which hard
Untutored hearts instinctively regard;
Left ! and for whom ? That portrait, not so fair,
Tells its own tale, too common everywhere ;
Thrust out of sight, its gaudy face reversed.
Upon the back the bitter word " accurst."
Nor blame the deed ; for something is .in her
Lascivious features, strangely sinister —
88
CROES Y BREILA.
And he who hated most her shameless life,
Had shared its shame, for Julia was his wife.
Can this be he, abhorring and abhorred,
Whom all should honour, all should hail as Lord ?
If such the question, this extei-nal glare
With other rays of inner light compare ;
The old man sits, as one in waking trance,
With looks suspicious, petulant, askance.
And lo ! in terror, ill-concealed by scorn,
He reads a missive, left, at early morn,
On the scant beach beneath Timburio's clili",
By waves receding from a stranded skiff.
A fearful night had run the wreck aground,
The crew were lost, that letter had been found ;
Its seal a Lance, its superscription thus,
" To the world's Lord, my Lord Tiberius."
Musing, the second Cc'esar speaks — " And so
Jesus was buried not a month ago !
Yet when I sat upon my mother's knee,
A Syrian sang 'the death on Calvary.'
And haunting tones were in the wild refrain,
' The Son of David fi-om the Cross shall reign ; '
And He, who walked on my Tiberias lake.
Was He, the Prince of whom the prophet spake.
AT CAPRI A CONTRAST. 89
He fed His thousands, multiplying bread
On the bare hills, "tis well that He is dead;'
'Twas wisely done to let the traitors cry,
'Hosanna,' loud, and louder, 'Crucify.'
On them, and on their race will rest the blame ;
My Pontius washed his hands, I do the same ;
And wiser still their haughty souls to vex,
With the vile Cross, and Judaeorum Rex.
For all is ended— all must end with death.
And Eome is mistress still, not Nazareth ;
Till from his throne Tiberius has been hurled.
Nor God, nor man, shall overcome his world."
Vain-glorious boaster, how supremely blind
Thy self-reliant, yet distrustful mind ;
A few more years, and then a sudden swoon,
A Caius hailed, apparently too soon,
Yet not too soon — for Macro's April cloak
Eclipsed thy might majestic, while it woke;
And slavish millions, deeming they were freed,
Scarce blamed their new Harmodius for his deed.
Or blaming, wondered they had borne so long
A hideous bloated incubus of wrong.
His futiu-e thus, his star soon o'ercast.
The present what ? nay, rather, what the past !
90 CROES Y BREILA.
The Christ was risen, ere Tiberius read
The parchment teUiug that the Christ was dead.
The sun had dawned upon the Easter Day,
The trembhng globe had rolled the stone away ;
And He so guarded, He by grave-clothes tied,
He, Whom His own had mocked and crucified,
Kose from the grave, annulling Adam's curse,
His foe dethroned, His throne the universe,
His crown of thorns, His pentacle of scars.
The themes of music for the morning stars.
iAomc's Conljcvts.
'W^HE Pilgrim steering for Eternal Day,
{^^ When Sirens call him, keeps the narrow way ;
But how seductively their Kock invites
Self-satisfied, sectarian Sybarites.
SMALLNESS AND GREATNESS. 91
J^ OOTED and spurred ! as when he bore
Arms at Sedan ;
The very uniform he wore,
When war's wild dream for him was o'er,
Mocked the dead man !
Grim parody of martial state !
Poor littleness which would be great !
In every word and action shown,
Smallness inborn
Had claimed that Louis for her own,
As when Republican Boulogne
Laughed him to scorn,
While the tame eagle, round his hat,
Flew screaming for its lure of fat.
For little efforts to be great
Had been his bane ;
These bade him brave a people's hate,
And bind a too confiding state
With his base chain ;
And at the last, in sheer despair,
These forced him Bismarck's host to dare.
92 CROES Y BREILA.
Vain each attempt, each empty aim,
Napolcou !
Thou hast not earned, or love, or fame,
Thou hast disgraced a dazzUug name,
But thou art gone !
And 'tis not ours to judge the deeds
For which thy victim France stills hleeds.
Then happy they who own that might
Of man is small.
In presence of a glorious height,
Which in the majesty of right,
Eises o'er all ;
Theirs is true greatness, they alone
Step fi'om earth's prison to a throne.
REDEMPTION. 93
lACtrtmptton.
^URROUNDED by the sea, England is an
«-<r^ impregnable fortress. Such places, however,
may be reduced by starvation, and much of our
food is brought from abroad.
But if the fate of Metz and Paris should ever
stare us in the face, there is little doubt that
our sons of the Great Republic would come to
the rescue of that country which is regarded by
them as their mother. And then, while bonfires
on every beacon tokl that the enemy had been
driven off, that food ships, flying the Stars and
Stripes, were in the Mersey, the Tyne, the Severn,
and the Thames; and that the President of the
States, commanding in person the relieving forces,
was returning thanks in St. Paul's by the side
of the English Sovereign, then Ave should under-
stand far better than we do now, but not better
than we ought to understand, the meaning of the
joyous word — Redemptiox.
94 CROES y BREILA.
3lol)C 51Xnfcisnctr.
■rfJ^TICKED Kate ! He's almost captured,
J^' And the toils were neatly set ;
Wicked Kate ! They're all enraptured,
And they have not caught you yet.
Caught you ! He who tries will rue it,
Breaking hearts of course is fun,
And in safety you may do it,
For, my Kate, you have not one.
Have not one ! I read you better
Than my boyhood used to do;
Eead, and mark you, since a letter
Cut my heart, and seared it too.
Have not one ! Were all creation
Hanging on a thread, I know.
If 'twould save you a vexation,
You would snap, and let it go.
Yet, for useful friends, affection
You can feign, can love your mare ;
And your bright eyes make detection
Of their hollow hardness rare.
LOV'E UNFEIGNED. 95
So you'll have a host of offers,
Fresh ones every other night,
Eldest sons with heavy coffers,
Younger ones, alas ! with light.
And you'll angle, angle, angle.
For the fish of heaviest weight ;
Slightly hook, and let them dangle,
Thinking each will do — for bait.
But a coronet will never
Eest on your ambitious curls —
For, although I call you clever.
You are scarce a match for earls-.
So your little skiff will carry
Topsails, till it sinks at last ;
And you'll deem it time to marry
When the golden noon is past;
When your beauty is departing.
And your appetite amiss,
And your vanity is smarting
At a younger rival's bliss.
Then, like some untiring spider.
You the flimsy lines will set ;
Spread them wider, wider, wider,
And retiring, watch the net :
96 CROES Y BREILA.
Watch the net ! Till out to tlirottle,
Out to manacle tlio prey ;
Out, to find it no bluebottle,
But a tearing wasp at bay !
Wicked ' Kate ! a frightful matter
Will a London life be then,
. None to flirt with, none to flatter.
No dear tender dancing men.
They who now with feeble passion
In their gloves your fingers fold,
Will — believe me, 'tis their fashion —
Call you ugly, stupid, old.
Then shall I, the wronged, be righted ;
I be righted ! No, not I ;
I shall grieve to see thee slighted —
Love unfeigned can never die.
EVERGREENS AT CHRISTMAS. 97
i^litvgvccns at e!jv(stmas.
C2i
N Christmas Eve before an altar bent
-c3j:$- Arthur and Helen; she in tears, and he —
'Twas hard to read that face, but much was there
Of sadness, more of joy — a joy that seemed
Born of some secret triumph.
Yet the twain
Nor were, nor could be, lovers ; for her heart
Was far away — was in the foremost tent,
Where Indus guards the Empire's frontier line.
Then, wherefore, stood they there apart ?
'Twas thus :
They had been weaving leafy coronals,
Plucked from those trees which, like brave-hearted men.
Smile kindly upon frost — weaving green bands
For font and pillar ; now their Christmas work
Completed, he, from fragments, strewed around,
Would cull enough of greenery to deck
Her chamber.
From his hand unconsciously
She took them, one by one, arranging each
Within her OAvn ; then first he gave to her
(Scarce knowing in the twilight what he gave)
8
98 CROES Y BREILA,
A sprig of berried holly, wliicli, as one
Betrothed to fickle loveliness, across -
Her portal lays his weapon, to the world
Bristling with thorns, but round that guarded home
Curled softly ; next 'twas ivj-, which, though storms
Have stripped her wrinkled elm, cliugs round it still.
But what are these funereal leaves which now
He offers?
" See," she tremulously said,
" 'Tis deadly cypress — and on Christmas Eve !
Alas, for him ! whose image in my heart
Kose bleeding at thy gift."
Nought Arthur spake,
But stretched his hand to take the cypress back;
For cypress could not harm him, save through her ;
But still she held it shuddering, closely grasped,
He shuddering too ; for now his ear, by some
Mysterious agency, had caught, amid
The stillness of the sanctuary, the yell
Of Afghan war upon those glaring hills
"Where many a prayer of his kept guard around
Her future lord ; but then the vision changed,
And Arthur said, "The cypress comes to nought,
Or else it was not cypress which I gave ;
Look, Helen ! was it cypress ? "
EVERGEEENS AT CHRISTMAS.
Slie held out
Her baud, wliicli all the time had crushed his gift,
And lo ! therein no portent of the grave,
But arbor vit», 'twas the tree of life.
He saw it, and with smiles, in tiny waves
O'er deep abysses rippling, thus spake he—
" That shalt thou keep, dear lady, 'tis a gift
Befitting both."
The maiden bowed her huad,
Her stately head, in grateful acquiescence, and
She placed his offering in her bosom, what
She did not knowing ; for she had not read
That lore of Palestine, Avrit long ago
By some Gamaliel, hopeful, though lovelorn ;
Which, be it truth or fiction, shines like dew
Upon the dry leaves of the Cabala,
How that those hands which have together touched
The tree of life, though parted here on earth.
Have still a bond between them, which each year
Must knit the closer, till at length they join :
Then, for each leaflet on the branch they held.
Three cycles and a half must they twain pass,
Nestling amid tliat arbor vitc^e, which
O'ershadows the Eternal.
Was it well
Thus to entrap her for futurity ?
99
100
CROES Y BREILA.
Judge Artliur geutlj- ; not the Cabala
But tljc Evangel breathes a benison
On patient, evergreen, unequal love.
Stooping.
MISSION BAEGE was stopped at Lielifield.
^Vhy ?
The bridges were too low, the Barge too high ;
At length it stooped, and then the way was clear ;
A warning for the Church and State is here.
If some too stiff for stooping have their way,
Kome's watchful bird may stoop on us some day.
Note. — The fuUuidng may he said on the other side.
Type of the Bishop's heart was Selwyn's Barge,
For lowness and for narrowness, too large.
c>^
UNDONE. 101
Wintiont,
(Heme.)
T^AST eve, a sunset out at sea
The waves with light was streaking,
Within a fisher's hut sat we,
Alone, and never speaking.
Now here, n'ow there, the seagulls flew,
Clouds drifted, seas were swelling ;
Out of her eyes, love hrimming through.
The teardrops were a-welling.
I saw them land upon her hand ;
Then, on my knees down sinking.
Straight from that hand — that snow-white hand.
Those teardi'ops I was drinking.
From that time forth, my life it died,
My soul to grief was mated —
Alas, alas ! while thus she cried.
Her tears intoxicated.
--^
102 CROES Y BRKILA.
^i)t iltapov of t!jc ^palace at t!jc IFattcan,
Cbi
tT has been the fashion of late years to sneer
at all who have attributed any evil doings
or dangerous desigii^s to the Society of Jesus.
But Mr. Whalley himself could not have had a
greater horror of the principles which animate
the soldiers of Loyola, than was expressed in
the most trenchant style by their co-religionist,
Pascal. And the Provincial letters, although they
have always charmed every impartial reader, and
have never been refuted, could not save the
Gallican Church ; which form of religion, once so
vigorous, has long ago ceased to exist, unless it
may be said to survive in the little flock of M.
Loyson. As to its producing another Pascal, that
is impossible.
The Society of Jesus, then, is a legitimate subject
of alarm, especially to all moderate Papists. Over
and over again, this ever-decreasing and impotent
section of the Romish Church, has hoped that
the election of a reasonable successor to S. Peter
had given to it and to the world a cessation of
THE MAYOR OF THE PALACE AT THE VATICAN. 103
intrigue, and a chance of religious peace. But
over and over again, the Black Pope, whose name
few people know, and whose election is scarcely
noticed, makes it clear that he is the Mayor of
the Palace at the Vatican, that is, its real Master,
Who the Master of the Black Pope may be, is a
grave question. His purpose, however, is clear
enough. By fair means or by foul he j^i'oposes
to dominate over every Empire, over every King-
dom, over every Republic, over every city, over
every town, over every village, over every palace,
over every counting-house, over every cottage, over
every soul, over every mind, over every body. A
Society which has, and professes to have this
object, which pursues it unflinchingly, from gene-
ration to generation, using unscrupulously those
means which Pascal gibbeted, but which even he
was unable to strangle, can hardly be said to
deserve the sacred name of Jesus, which it has
attempted to appropriate.
But if the Society be not of Christ, to whom
does it belong ? Whose interests does it serve ?
It may be not easy to offer any satisfactory reply
to these enquiries ; but they cannot be accused of
104 CROES Y BREILA.
folly, who keep a watchful eye on him who has
introduced so much Romanism into the Cliurch
of England, that is, on the Mayor of the
Palace at the Vatican.*
Camds antr (^nats.
^WALLOW a camel ! yet strain out t a gnat !
We foolish mortals often have done that ;
Talk spi'eads a scandal, horrible, absurd,
Men ask no proof, but credit every word.
Talk hints that " little men " haunt Sandwell Park,
So Bromwich roughs won't stay there after dark.
Talk whispers, " Glamis has ghosts, and secret doors,"
So some who dine, won't sleep at Lord Strathmore's ;
Yet if such read their Bibles, one can see
Grave doubt is asking, " How can these things be ? "
* This subject is more fully treated in Anwyl. A Tale of the
Unnatural Eebellion, and the Great "War. By R. W. Essington.
t Out, not at, is the right translation.
DON DINERO OF QUEVEDO MODERNISED. 105
Bon l3mcto of ^tttcbttro iHotrcrntsttr.
NOBLE bom and bred was Guy,
But not an heir,
And so he must not look as high
As Lady Clare ;
And Lady Clare, she looked no higher
Than Money Esquire.
A statesman for his county stood,
And stood to win,
But the best deeds are not as good
As brass and tin ;
So he who sat for Hardcashire,
Was Money Esquire.
Next, after nuptials, aping Eome,
The millionaire
With two grey mares was driven home ;
The married pair
Had Guy for groomsman, by desire
Of Money Esquire.
lOG CROES Y BREILA.
Then oil' tliey set, in snow and frost,
For the grand tour ;
And paid so Avcll no siglits were lost,
You may be sure ;
Vesuvius was set on fire
For Money Esquire.
Again in London. What dehght !
In Clubs and Shops ;
What drives by day ! What feasts by night !
Dinners and liops !
Till Boodles sickened, eating mire
With Money Esquire.
A Captain, who had saved his corps
By nerve and skill,
V.C, and verging on threescore,
Was Captain still !
* Y. Colonel in superb attire
Was Money Esquire !
• Note. — The following might have been written by a V.C. Captain
of a V. Colonel.
Carbonis venditori legionis tribnno.
Sis rude donatus, tua nulla praelia creta,
Sed carbone suo rite notanda forent.
To a Coal Dealer, a Colonel of Volunteers.
Get your discharge ; for if you fight, good fortune you will lack,
Your coal will rub the chalk mark out, and stamp the day with black.
DON DINEKO OF QUEVEDO MODERNISED. 107
The Ivor, and the Ivor's clan
All came to grief,
And every gentle-hearted man
Felt for the chief ;
But in his kilt o'er Ivorshire
Stalked Money Esquire.
There stands a venerable pile,
Where England's best
In chapel, transepts, nave, and aisle,
Are laid to rest ;
There a brass tablet in the Choir
Lauds Money Esquire.
A hatchment hung above the door
At Bullion Park ;
And twenty millions, less or more.
His probate's mark ;
What else could any one desire ?
Great Money 'Esquire !
But now at Bullion Park, there reigned
His infant heir ;
With Guy, who, in a year, had gained
His Lady Clare,
And gossips whispered round the fire,
Poor Money Esquire ! =■'
• A rough sketch of these lines appeared in Over Volcanoes.
108 CROES Y BREILA.
^nijaUolusj at ^l^illton,
'E meet to-morrow, then;" 'twas tlms I cried
To one whose fiieudsliip is my proudest
boast.
'"Tis Hallowe'en," he laughingly replied,
" And so I may not be your guest, or host ;
For I must hurry to a Palace table,
My whinnying Aineh calls me to her stable."
Answering my stare, he said, " I don't allude
To Tsarkoe Selo, or to Buckingham;
For I have dared, in disquisitions rude.
To call a right divine a solemn sham.
But there's a Court which loves a loyal man,
Although his heart may be Eepublican.
" So, if you choose, together we will seek
The hall, where Arthur feasts at Hallowe'en ;
One caution only, think before you speak,
A foolish word might mar the festive scene."
My answer w^as, "I thank you, and am ready."
He felt my pulse, and found it slow and steady.
Then, through the moonlit eve, for rnnny a mile,
O'er Cornish hills on thymy turf we rode,
ALLHALLOWS AT AVILLION. 109
He pouring forth bright fancies all the while,
The pithy sounet, or luxuriant ode,
Until we came to where a sloping wood
Fringed a smooth mere, and there a Castle stood.
Down on gigantic oaks grim turrets frowned,
Casting long shadows o'er the reedy sea ;
And from within there rose a joyous sound
Of various, yet united harmony.
The court-yard would have held a million,
Dwarfed is Escurial by Avillion.
And now we entered, where an open door
Admitted guests to Tolcarn's royal hall ;
Of snow-white marble was the spacious floor,
And banners hung suspended from the wall ;
The Knights sat round their table in a ring —
Yet none could fail to recognize the King.
For his, the type of all a face should be,
Firm, and yet gentle, not morose, but grave ;
That face which Blistra's maidens deem they see
When fancy, gazing on the Fistral's wave.
Recalls the monarch of their bosom's throne,
And absence lends him graces not his own.
The guests were mingled — here a thougljlfiil girl
Talked to her fairest day-dream, lledclyffe's heir;
110 CROES Y BREILA.
And on her bond was many a precious pearl
Twined round a flower, wliicli none but she should
wear.
A golden pansy, and beneath it these
Words writ in rubies, "Arthur to Heartsease,"
Beside her one, upon whose furrowed heart
The angels sowed their seed at dead of night,
From Avhich there sprang her own true counterpart,
Unselfish Ninian, duty's loyal knight :
And Arnold, Morris, Tennyson, sat near
Longfellow, Lytton, Swinburne, Moule, and Vere.
Some too were there, who, now unseen by men,
Still live, as Arthur lives, annulling time ;
These build no poems now with laborijig pen,'
But clothe in form at will each thought sublime.
'Tis vain to tell their names, or works, the best
Unknown would be, and known so well the rest.
These are the men whose words have reached the
heart,
And in some little crevice struck a root ;
From whence the goodly trees of Eden start,
Kind w^ords their blossom, noble deeds their fri;it.
I
I
ALLHALLOWS AT AVILLION. Ill
The world will one clay know how grecat have been
The lives, which sprung from Newcome's * death-bed
scene.
Nor were the soldiers absent ; foremost he
Who at the Alma, Avith his Scottish kin
Wrung from a brief repulse a victory ;
And when the Guards were rent and wavering,
And madness cursing, shouted, "Halt! and Form!" —
Turned a deaf ear, aud led them through the storm.
Near him were they, who, in the next campaign
Will prove their right to seats in Arthur's hall ;
Will wear Victoria's Cross, aud living, gain
A peerage, or the Abbey, if they fall.
Drake, Bradburue, Peyton, Kent, aud he, who wrote
That life f which was his pattern while afloat.
"One toast to-night," said Arthur, "only one.
For joyous hours fly fast, and day is nigh ;
Then, ere the fading stars confess the sun
Sole autocratic ruler in the sky,
Upstand ye all, and let each brimming glass
Blush to its lips with rosy hippocrass.
• The Newcomes, by Thackeray.
t The life of Adiniral of the Fleet, Hlr W. Parker, Bart., G. C. B.
By Rear- Admiral A. rhiUimore.
112 CEDES Y BREILA.
"I drink to Her, the fairest of the fair —
I driuk to licr, the bravest of the brave —
Who walked uufulteriug through the tainted air,
To snatch the stricken soldier from the grave ;
And when he died, with woman's soft control
Stilled the wild throbbings of the i^arting soul.
" I drink to her — and may her angel face
Kise like a rainbow on each future war ;
I drink to her, in whom I love to trace
The features of King Edward's Eleanor ;
And may the din of battle never fail
To wake some soothing, saintly, Nightingale ! "
The shouts, the cheers arose, again, again,
Until Tintagel rattled with the sounds.
Which, echoed back by hinds and serving men,
Awoke the baying of the kennelled hounds ;
Then Arthur raised his hand ; and 'twas as though
Four rattling wheels had passed from stones to snow.
Once more he spoke, and this the final word,
Before the feast of Hallowe'en was o'er ;
And, like true music, on the mountains heard,
His silvery voice, from rafters to the floor.
Pervaded all, yet seemed to be the speech
Of one soft lover's vvhisper unto each.
ALLHALLOWS AT AMiLLION. 113
" Brave kniglits," said lie, " and ye, my gentle dames,
Farewell, until another year has flown ;
Meantime, will Arthur keep your honoured names
Writ in his book, and love you as his own ;
And much 'twould grieve him, if in future he
Shoixld miss one comrade from this company.
Yet if ye would retain your monarch's love,
Tme to his covenant ye must abide ;
And wise as serpents, harmless as the dove,
Turn a deaf ear to malice and to pride ;
Do unto all as ye would have them do.
And though the world be fair and false, be true."
With that he frankly grasped the hand of each,
With kingly smiles, and cordial Cornish grips ;
For some he had a little parting speech,
For some a chaste salute upon the lips.
At last he said "Good-night!" and bowed his head;
We all departed, and I was — in bed.
Note. — This appeared in 1856 as. a Satire, by Compton Bassett.
It has been altered and cm-tailed. Other pieces contained in
this volume have been treated in a similar way.
8
114 CEOES Y BREILA.
^ latbcv m t!jc SoutT),
Qii
SAW an Alpine rivulet careering
(ss-> From rock to rock along its downward track,
Wlien, mindful of the dangers it was nearing,
I whispered, " Back,
Back, streamlet, to thy mother, yon grey mountain ;
Though glaciers fill the hollows of her breast.
Her freezing kiss alone can give a fountain
Safety and rest."
The river murmured, '' False and empty warning ;
For though my youth was cradled in the snow,
I sprung from dew-di'ops in the starry morning,
And thither go."
Again I said, "But why this march incessant,
Which will not stay to dally with the flowers ?
■ 'Twere well to learn how pure, and yet how pleasant,
Are bridal hours.
Lo ! where the trailing tresses of a willow
Are tremulous with love she dreads to own ;
Lie down in peace upon her yielding pillow —
'Twill prove a throne."
A RI\'ER IN THE SOUTH. 115
To which the brook: " A primrose for a minute
Dimpled my cheek with her caressing hand ;
I leaped the bank, no primrose there was in it,
But weeds and sand.
And thus I learnt, that 'tis a lying vision
Which paints the beauties of the treacherous shore,
A loving heart, embittered by derision,
Thus loves no more."
My answer was : " 'Tis wise to shrink from wooing
When frailness bends, earthrooted, yet above :
That primrose lured thee to her own undoing.
Buried in love.
But purest loveliness art thou rejecting,
Whose rays descend, and yet are throned on high ;
Methinks 'twere joy indeed to sleep, reflecting
The stars and sky."
The river sighed, " One night the moon delayed me,
Till on my breast her beams were multiplied.
Uprose my very depths, yet she betrayed me —
A maddening bride ;
For soon there came an eddying, turbid feeling,
And from my destined path a torrent broke,
Till through the thorny hedgerows wildly reeling.
At length I woke.
IIG CEOES Y BEEILA.
To know that safety is the twin of duty ;
And that the wayworn pilgrims of a night
■May only rest where self-existent beauty
Sheds solar light." '
"And yet," I said, "'twere wise to cease from flowing
Which leads thee onward to a deadly leap,
A dark abyss, for thou art blindly going
Dowai to the deep."
"No!" moaned the river; "though I hear that ocean,
And see afar its angry billows foam,
It only breeds in me a fond emotion —
A thirst for home.
My home, not on the hills nor sea, but yonder,
Where joy untiring hushes weary care ;
There, up the sunbuilt arches, I shall wander,
Lighter than air,
Until I join those crystal waves, which sever
Earth from the Eock of Ages and the throne,
There murmvuing waters rest in peace for ever,
And there alone."
I
J
DIFFERENCES. 11*
^OE some a pleasant thing is Kfe —
^^ A mother with her boy,
A lover with his future wife,
, A baby with a toy.
But what a change, if, lingering on,
We search beneath the ice
For summer roses, which are gone.
And never blossom twice.
'Tis well to live, when welcome praise,
Kewarding work well done,
Gives promise that in after days
More glory will be won.
'Tis well to die, when every friend
Betrays deserved disdain.
For, though we must await our end,
Hard is the lot of Cain.
But best of all, to wake and know
That death has lost its sting ;
And that from winding sheets of snow
The hving waters spring.
118 CROES Y BREILA,
i!r!jc t!r|)vanui> of a ^ootfj,
Y^OME years ago, I became acquainted with a
^7 pale and lean youth who had left a master,
to whom he ought to have been eternally grateful,
because he was not allowed to eat meat more
than three times a day. If this voracious groom,
who had starved in his boyhood, could have
been persuaded to fast during Lent, after the
carnal fashion of John's disciples, he might, or
might not, have prolonged his life. As it was, he
died before he rose to the head of his profession —
that is, before he became a coachman.
But, horrible as this craving after meat was in
his case, it differs in degree only, and not in
principle, from a craving after it at any time. For
if we reflect, it is obvious, that, as often as we
treat ourselves to this sort of food, we are
accessary, after the fact, to the murder of a
creature as wonderfully constructed as we our-
selves are, and which, having no cares, was
enjoying its life still more heartily than any
one except a Chief Butler can hope to do.
And our remorse ought to be increased by the
THE TYRANNY OF A TOOTH. ' 119
thought that, after the poor animal had been
consigned to that grave, where the gastric juice
acts the part of quick-lime, there was no hope
of a resurrection. For my part, I feel this so
strongly, and am so conscience-stricken by the last
faint shrieks of my annual pig, that I should
be glad to become a Vegetarian.
But the butchering of beasts in the shambles,
and of birds in battues, seems as much a necessity
of this wicked world as the slaughter of men in
wars. For we carry about with us that product
of the primeval curse, the canine tooth ; the cutting
of which, according to the Talmud, gave to our father
Adam his first sensation of physical pain. And
this Tooth is a feature in the human frame with
which we must not venture to trifle. Indeed, I
have been told by one who was for many years
a surgeon in New Zealand, and who is now a
clergyman, that the Maories, having no Fauna
before Cook's pigs multiplied, became cannibals as
a matter of course. If this was so, it may be
quoted as the most extreme case of the tyranny
of a Tooth hitherto brought to light.
Amongst us there are some teetotal Vegetarians,
but the tribe is small ; and, as in the case of
120 CKOES Y BREILA.
abstainers from wine and beer, the pendulum
swings violently the other way in the next genera-
tion. However, the number of those who feel
that they ought to avoid flesh meat during Lent
is considerable, and some, no doubt, act up to
their convictions. Still the cravings of the tyrant
Tooth cannot be disregarded with impunity, even
for a time. This is proved by the number of dispen-
sations claimed and granted; and these would have
to be far more numerous, if it were not for the
distinction which is drawn between fish and flesh.
But this spiritual superiority of fish rests on no
better grounds than were once proposed to me
by a Romish priest, namely, that St. John eat
locusts, that is, to say, it rests on none.
And after all, it is a question whether this
carnal style of fasting, involving, as it does, a
temporary rebellion against natural instincts which
cannot be pronounced Avicked, is a religious
duty. At all events, it is certain that our Lord's
disciples did not fast in this way, and it is
equally clear that He justified this departure
from a custom which the disciples of John rigidly
observed. We are told, however, that this teaching
was only temporary, being qualified by the state-
THE TYRANNY OF A TOOTH. 121
ment that they would fast. when He Avas no longer
with them. From which it is argued that absten-
tion from flesh meat at seasons devoted to fasting,
although no duty while He was visible to the
eye, has become a duty now.
There are, however, grave difficulties to be over-
come before this difference between our times and
those of the Apostles can be admitted to exist.
For, can we venture to say, that He, who pronused
to be with His people until the end of the world,
is not with us now ? AYe hear, indeed, of those
who confine the real piesence of the Omnipresent
to certain places, and certain moments, when certain
sacred words have been repeated. But these
Doctors of the Law have not as yet ventured to
insist upon our accepting the doctrine of His real
absence at other times, and in other places. Nor
is this all that has to be said : for if we must
thus fast now, it is, ex-hypothesi, because we are
spiritually in a worse position than the disciples
were Avhen our Master and theirs lived on earth.
But how can this be ? Then the fight for life and
death was going on, and Satan did not regard
his position as hopeless. Now the victory is
gained, and Satan has fallen like lightning from
122
CROES Y BREILA.
his vantage ground. Then Peter and Thomas
stumbled, and Iscariot fell, walking by sight. Now
the most ignorant, walking by faith, is safe.
There must be then, as, indeed, there are, two
modes of fasting — the carnal, that is, the Jewish,
and the spiritual, that is, the Christian fashion,
both kinds having been practised when Christ
sojourned on earth, and both kinds being practised
now. There is the fasting which rends the gar-
ments — that listing for strife, which prompts
people to wear semi-black dresses during Lent,
and to cast very black looks on those who still
continue to appear in their winter gowns. This
is the sort of fasting which sends ten miles on
Ash Wednesday for salmon when it is 3s. 6d. a
pound, and which spends the intervals between the
services in explaining to the man cook how it is
to be served up. This is the fasting which would
not, on any account, touch a rasher of bacon
value twopence, but which, Avithout any scruple,
devours six eggs at threepence a piece. This
is the fasting which walks up the aisle with
much parade on a Friday in Lent, and which,
with equal parade, walks down it again in a few
minutes, because the Church is not sufficiently
THE TYEANNY OF A TOOTH. 123
comfortable. This is the fasting which worries the
subject of it in a hundred petty ways, and which
worries those with whom the subject of it consorts,
in a thousand ways, still more petty.
That this style of fasting should exist in these
days of enlightenment, when all hypocrisy is so
promptly exposed, seems strange ; but it does
exist. It is practised by those Avho have substi-
tuted lying legends of so-called Saints, for the
inspired Word of God ; and for the worship of
the Saviour, the worship of her, to whom, although
she was His mother — according to the flesh — that
Saviour said, " Woman, or Lady, what have I to
do with thee ? " and " wist ye not that I must be
about My Father's business ?" For such persons,
and for those who ignorantly ape their Judaizing
proclivities in postures and practices, this sort
of fasting is appropriate, no doubt.
But, when these self-righteous people presume,
as they do, to find fault with those who understand
what Spiritual and Christian fasting really is, when
they rebuke those who never think about what they
eat, and who habitually leave off with an appetite,
and a thanksgiving, when they revile those who give
their bread to the hungry, who visit the fatherless
124 CROES Y BREILA.
and widows in tlieir afflictions, and keep them-
selves unspotted from the worhl, these accusers,
if they listened to the voice of conscience, would
hear it say, " What have these Christians to do
with 3^our carnal and Jiidaical observances ? How
can the children of the Bridechamber fast, when
the Bridesfroom is with them ? "
booing autr Itootooiug^
fOT meek as doves are Party Men, still if you
will Kootoo,
And puff their Shibboleths, they will coo too ; and
puff up you.
(h
-<L^
THE PASS OF BETOarESTHAM. 125
m^t i^asss of Bttomcstiljam,
I.
'ER Esdraelon an Assyrian host,
Like hail with hghtning mingled, onwards swept ;
While from Ekrebel's waters to the coast
The crackhng flames from rifled homesteads leajDed.
And can Bethnlia's hill that torrent stem ?
Was the wild cry which stu-red Jerusalem.
II.
A priestly chieftain, answering to the call.
Lined with his tribes the Betomestham pass,
And Holofernes, glaring on that wall
Of loyal hearts, more firm than triple brass,
Cursed Jthose presumptuous serfs, who dared to stay
His mounted archers, bounding on their prey.
ni.
And death had been their portion, soon or late,
As of the Spartans with Leouidas ;
Or, worse than death, the ignominious fate
Which bowed the Consuls at the Caudine pass ;
Had not a woman rung a warrior's knell.
And perilled all for God and Israel.
126 CEOES Y BREILA.
IV.
Thus rau her crafty tale : "My country's might
Springs from obedience to her Lord's command ;
And that withdrawn, though man may bravely fight,
The rock-hewn keep will crumble into sand ;
And we have sinned, and He is wroth, while thou,
My Holof ernes, hast a godlike brow."
V.
A soldier, grey with caution or with time.
Would soon have pierced the woman's silken plot ;
But he was young : and in the sunny clime
Of bronzed Assyria, youthful blood is hot;
And so he laughed, and fell an easy prize
To Judith's dark, unfathomable eyes.
VI.
Hence all unchallenged, or by day or night,
She with her maiden wandered at her will,
Now rapt in prayer upon some lonely height.
Now gathering strength from her Bethulian rill,
To set by one dread deed her people free,
And crown her head with fame, and misery.
VII.
So three days passed ; and on the fourth she went
(For such the boon preferred in turn to her)
THE PASS OF BETOMESTHAM. 127
To grace a banquet iu the cliieftaiu's tent,
Where, if her heart was iu the sepulchre,
Her soft eye-service feigned itself the slave
Of each imperious mandate which he gave.
vni.
The feast was ended, ere the darkness came,
For Holofernes brooked not more delay ;
And then Bagoas, minister of shame,
Closing the tent, turned mournfully away ;
He knew not whence a sombre shadow fell :
But 'twas the raven wing of Azrael.
IX.
Upon his couch the drunken lover lay :
And she beside him stood, they twain alone.
Save where a \\Taith of thin transparent spray
Echoed each amorous breath with piteous moan.
A shivering horror chilling pleasure's bed ;
"Forgive me, dear Manasses," Judith said.
And yet it was not he. Manasses slept
Safe with his buried sires by Balamo ;
And if at that dread hour, his spmt wept.
Or laughed triumphant, none will ever know,
128 CBOES Y BREII^A.
Until the banner of Iraraanuel waves
O'er Armageddon, and its open graves.
XI.
Tlien Judith saw that 'twas the headless ghost
Of Holofernes, lying by its side ;
That night the leader of a mighty host,
To-morrow — and he IcneAV it not, but cried,
" Your night winds blow as cold in Palestine
As from the Taurus ; yet there's warmth in wine ! "
XII.
He took the cup, and bade her drink ; she drank
With glozing words which veiled a flashing eye,
He drained the bowl : then down once more he sank.
And Judith knew her fatal hour was nigh ;
And, feeling that she needed heavenly aid,
Upon her couch of furs stood up and prayed.
xin.
" Lord of all might, and fount of boundless grace,
From whom Thy people sprung, in whom they live ;
Hear Thou from heaven. Thy glorious dwelling-place,
And when Thou hearest, answer and forgive.
Remember Abraham's seed and David's stem.
The Hill of Hermon and Jerusalem.
THE PASS OF BETOMESTHAM. 129
XIV.
The future fate of Thine iuheritauce
Haugs m the scales ; and shall this slave of lust,
Unchallenged, over Palestine advance,
To lay Thy glorious temple in the dust ?
Yet, if Ozias yields Bethulia's wall,
That bolt which stunned Achior's ears will fall."
XV,
She ceased : and fi'om its sheath his falchion di*ew,
"With keener eye surveying its keen edge.
Alas, for Holofernes ! He will rue
The day he smote Jehovah's heritage.
And yet, she said, " I would 'twere in the fray;
For thus my husband, dear Manassas, lay."
XVI.
Yes, thus he lay in that unhappy hour
When death's grim reaper tracked him through the
corn,
And by Euphrates, in some lonely tower,
Another Judith, widowed and forlorn,
May weep for thee. — I will not strike the blow,
Nor deal the desolation which I know."
10
130 CROES Y BEEILA.
XVII.
And thus slie miglit liave spared him for the sake
Of her deep grief, the widowed bosom's lord ;
For they who know how broken hearts can ache,
Are loath to sever that electric cord,
Which, from within miraculously spun,
Around two spirits, blends them into one.
xvni.
But Holofernes whispered in his sleep,
" Come, Judith, on my bosom lay thine head ;
And if another should upbraid or weep.
Though she were twice my wife, I'd strike lu^r
dead.
Come, yielding maid of stubborn Israel." —
'Twas the death warrant of the Infidel.
XIX.
For, twining her slim fingers in his hair,
She seized his falchion with the other hand.
Twice gleamed the steel, descending through the air.
And twice she muttered, " 'Tis the Lord's command."
The last stroke left a corpse upon the bed.
And in her hand a staring, lifeless head.
THE PASS OF BETOMESTHAM, 131
XX.
Thus went she forth ; triumphant, yet how pale,
To meet her maiden, who was lingering near :
And to the hurried question, "Did j'ou fail ?"
She answered, " God be thanked, his head is
here."
They eyed the features shuddering, for they saw
Lust graven still upon the sunken jaw.
XXI.
Then hurried onwards ; none enquiring why,
At that unseemly hour, they were afoot :
For prurient scandal is afraid to pry
Where swords are sharp, and will is absolute.
And soon they reached the outposts of the town,
Felt they were safe, and sank exhausted down.
XXII.
Her trophy told her triumph ; and around
Their country's heroine the elders came,
Yet dreaded lest her emprise had been crowned
With glory, dearly purchased by her shame:
While many a maiden shrank away in fear.
Lest her strange tale might shock a modest ear.
132 CKOES Y BREILA.
xxin.
She marked their feeliugs, aud her tears awhile,
Like Marah, flowed from rocks of bitterness ;
But soon, beneath the dayspriug of a smile,
The Manna glistened on her wilderness.
And thus she spake : " The prize was dearly won.
Yet no dishonour to my heart was done,
XXIV.
"Twas dearly won : for I have ever slu'unk
From treading on a worm ; and thus to smite
Jehovah's image, though debased and sunk,
And launch a soul to meet the Infinite,
Straight from the revel and the baulked desh'e —
That was a deed to set the brain on fire.
XXV.
Yet, lest polluting thoughts should taint my
name,
Let Israel know the spoiler touched me not ;
And though all earthly glory I disclaim,
I will not bear a humbled woman's blot,
So tell the world Merari's child was true
To God, her country, and her honour too."
THE PASS OF BETOMESTHAM. 133
XXVI.
Then with one voice the gratulation rose,
" Glory to Judith, and to Him the praise,
Who leads His people through the midst of foes,
As erst from Egypt in the bondage days ;
The snare is broken, and the bird will fly,
Jehovah's eagle, smiting hip and thigh."
XXVII.
Thus shouting for the battle, from their keep
The mountaineers swept down with sword and
lance ;
And soon Assyria, starting from her sleep.
Flung back this yell of vengeful arrogance : —
"Come, caitiff victims of despair and thirst;
'Tis madness nerves you to endure the worst."
xxvin.
In sooth, they joyed to mark their foes descend
From vantage ground, to meet them on the plain ;
And deemed, that peace and plenty soon would end
The glorious labours of their brief campaign ;
And if they felt regret, it was to see
Scarce foes enough to grace a victory.
134 CROES Y BREILA.
XXIX.
But wherefore slept their chieftain ? Of the fray
tHe loved to boast a vulture's eager scent,
Now he, who had been ever foremost, lay
The only sluggard in his armament.
At length the shouts of onslaught came so near.
His captains whispered, " Even the dead might
hear."
XXX.
Yet still he came not forth. Again they said,
" His chamberlain must wake him, or we die :
For armies are but crowds, which, if the head
Is absent, or a coward, straightway fly."
Bagoas answered, "Evil is their fate
Who cross the lion toying with his mate."
XXXI.
And yet they cried, " awake him, or a chain,
Not forged by love, will bind him to a bed.
Where they who long for beauty must be fain
To lie with dust, and creeping things instead :
There is a time for all things : yesternight —
'Twas amorous dalliance ; but to-day — the fight."
I
i
i
THE PASS OF BETOMESTHAM. 135
XXXII.
Then knocked Bagoas at his master's tent :
The answer — stillness — stillness of the dead.
He entered ; started back with garments rent,
And hau- dishevelled, bristling on his head.
His comrades gathered round him, while a shriek
Told a disaster which he could not speak.
XXXIII.
For there the chieftain lay, a headless mass !
And she w^ho supped with him on yesternight ?
One marked her leave the lines ; another pass
Beyond the fountain. All was clear as hght.
The Jewish traitress had in safety fled,
Leaving victorious Holofernes dead.
XXXIV.
Again arose the Hebrews' battle cry,
And faint were now the answering shouts which
came ;
For craven crowds, impetuous wiien they fly,
Roll braver comrades down the floods of shame ;
So wolves, which left Assyi-ia's j)laius to sweep
O'er prostrate Asia, fled like flocks of sheep.
136 CROES Y BREILA.
XXXV.
Bethulia, Betomestliani and Cliobai,
Like eagles, scenting carrion, clogged their tifjclc,
And soon the shouts, " Zebaoth Adonai,"
From Zion's slingers di-ove them headlong back ;
•While they, who seaward fled, reeled madly on
The Galaad swords, and spears from Lebanon.
XXXVI.
They knew not where to turn ; for every mile
Teemed with fresh foes, who, smiting rear and
van.
With strength like his who rued Dalilah's guile,
Mangled Assyria's maimed Leviathan,
Until it reached, dismembered and disgraced.
The refuge city on the sandy waste.
XXXVII.
But now the hosts of Israel homeward went.
To celebrate the feast for their release ;
And graced with spoils from Holofernes' tent.
Brave Judith led the anthem of the peace.
And while the spirit rested ou her tongue,
'Twas thus the daughter of Merari sung —
i
THE PASS OF BETOMESTHAM. 137
"The Lord of Hosts is Israel's King;
Let cymbals clash and timbrels ring
A new and glorious strain.
Exalt and magnify His name,
"Who put the mighty foe to shame.
And gave us peace again.
Out from the moimtains of the North,
Victorious Assur issued forth ;
His horsemen, sweeping by,
Rolled cloudlike o'er a thousand hills.
His spearmen stopped perennial rills.
And drank their waters dry.
He came to slaughter son and sire.
To waste the land with sword and fire.
The maidens take for spoil.
And dash the infants on the ground ;
But feeble widowhood was found
His arrogance to foU.
For not the giant Anakim,
Nor mighty Titans humbled him —
The victor in his pride ;
But grasping at a rose forlorn,
'Twas guarded by its hidden thorn.
Which pierced him, and he died.
Her widow's weeds she cast away
For linen robes and colours gay,
The chosen race to save.
188 CROES Y BREILA.
And with her tire upon her head
She entered — and the drunkard's bed
Became his bloody grave.
The Persian trembled at her might,
The Median horseman turned to flight,
When Judah's shout arose ;
And bitter death was in their cry,
When hemmed around they could jiut fly,
And dared not face their foes.
Then to the victor anthems raise,
And let His creatures hymn the praise
Of all creation's God ;
Whose Spirit speaks — and we are made.
Speaks once again — and we are laid
Dead underneath the sod.
Nor men alone obey His voice ;
For when He smiles the hills rejoice.
And tremble at His frown.
At His command the whirlwinds blow,
And peaks of everlasting snow
Pour fiery torrents down.
To Him the sacrifice is naught,
Although with sweetest incense fraught ;
Such gifts we vainly bring.
For they who love the Lord will find
The broken heart, and humble mind,
Their richest offering.
THE PASS OF BEl'OMESTHAM, 139
Then woe to them who dare withstand
His people, and His chosen land :
God's Judgments will not sleep ; '
But tortured by the worm within,
The fire shall burn them, while their sin
Whelms hope beneath the deep."
XXXIX.
Such joy as finds expression in a tear
Swelled in tlie people's heart, when thus the song
Was ended ; and they heard, or seemed to hear
Its echoes hy the angels borne along.
But when it ceased, each, bending head and knee,
Thanked God for Judith, and for victory,
XL.
And so, as year by year the day came round,
When Holofernes and Assyria fell,
She, like the wife of Lapidoth, was crowned
The nursing mother of her Israel.
And all confessed such beauty might have spun
The webs of folly round Bathsheba's son.
XLI.
Then soon from many a tribe the good and brave
Went forth to woo Bethulia's heroine.
But still to all the same reply she gave :
1-iO CEDES Y BKEILA.
" I must not wed thee — for to wed were sin —
Since to my own, my onlj'' counterpart,
In change for his I gave my virgin heart.
XLn.
And though by all the world, excepting me,
He lies forgotten and accounted dead ;
My husband's seat is where it used to be.
And on his pillow throbs my widowed head.
And when the wind blows warm from Cola's peak,
I feel his first fond kiss upon my cheek.
XLIII,
The hills are his whereon my cattle range ;
His sunny vales are joyous with my corn ;
The seasons change, but I can never change ;
For his bright smile comes back with every morn
And in the rays of sunset I can see
The parting glance Manasses gave to me.
XLIV.
E'en now he stands upon that happy shore.
Where round the tree of life the waters foam ;
And there the path whereon he trod before.
Lit by his smiles, invites me to my home.
And till he comes, my lonely heart is wed
To tender recollections, and the dead."
THE PASS OF BETOME&THAM. 141
XLV.
At such an answer, earthly love was dumb :
And Judith, rich in memory and fame,
Would ofttimes sigh, " Dear husband, I will come
Soon as thy lips have syllabled my name.
Although between my longing heart and thee,
Dark mountains frown upon a moaning sea."
XL VI.
And yet for her 'twas many a weary year,
Before the bridegroom called her to his breast ;
For they are kept in closest prison here.
Who long the most to go, and be at rest.
At length a nobler anthem* than her own
Brave Judith hymned, and hymned it not alone.
142 CROES Y BREILA.
CAPTIVE EOBIN at the wiudow flics,
And, where the morning entered, fain would
pass ;
Nor learns, until with battered wings he dies,
To doubt that cold, transparent, mocking glass,
Which shows him all he longs for — hills and trees.
And yonder cypress, shadowing his nest.
But hurls him back each time he springs to seize
Those beckoning joys, which will not let him rest —
Yet would the lost one only turn, and dare
That narrow path, that open door to try,
'Twould safely lead him to the free fresh air ;
But there, he will not turn, and so must die.
We deem him senseless — we ! who eye the spot.
Where love and peace invite the lost to dwell ;
But through the church's portal passing not,
Vex our bruised hearts at some closed oriel —
More senseless thus than the imprison'd bird ;
For Eobin blindly strove with fate ; but we
The warning voice, the loving call have heard,
And know the way to life and liberty.
CLEVEK FOR A GENTLEMAN. 143
(iElcijrr for a ([^^tntlcmau,
OME years ago, an ingenious artisan was
discussing in my presence the character of a
certain Mr. Ruby, who, being in the commission
of the peace, had just pronounced a judicial
sentence unusually foolish, even for him. After -
some other remarks which were not flattering, the
intelligent mechanic said, "But, sir, Mr. Ruby is
very clever." I did not dissent from this opinion ;
for when I am unable to praise anyone I hold
my tongue. But I did not assent; and, after a
pause, my friend added, "Of course, sir, I only
mean that he is clever— for a gentleman ! ''
At the time I hardly understood the meaning
of this qualified commendation, but subsequently
the solution flashed upon me ; for I reflected that,
although the worthy Squire was apt to be a
Justice Shallow when sitting on the bench of
Magistrates, he could do better work at a
carpenter's bench than any gentleman in the neigh-
bourhood, none of whom, in fact, could have made
a livelihood by handiwork.
144 CROES Y BEEILA.
Armed with this anecdote, I was not one of '^
those who joined the Temporizer in laughing at a
certain Right Honourable Statesman for asserting,
that, on leaving Oxford, he carried away with him
nothing which gave him an assurance of obtaining
a decent maintenance. For, although the brilliant
career of this eminently successful man seemed to
refute his disparaging remark in reference to him-
self, it was nevertheless true. Something more than
bread and cheese he had, no doubt, achieved — but
fortune had befriended him. For discriminating
patrons, like the Marquis of Lansdowne, and the
Pope of Printing House Square, infallible possibly,
but certainly not immutable, do not fall to the
lot of everybody. These had enabled the keen
logician, who is also a sparkling epigrammatist, to
find a field for that intellectual work which he was
so well able to do. But how many men, who
started in life's race with prospects far more
promising than those of Robert Lowe, have been
fagging out all their days without perceiving, at
present, the slightest prospect of securing an
innings. And have not some of these felt that
their education was neglected, and in a very
CLEVER FOR A GENTLEMAN, 145
material point ? Have they not even been brought
to envy the bricklayer, or his hodman, the
possession of that paid employment which
constitutes happiness ? If, therefore, we are wiser
than the Jews and the nations of the East in
some respects, we are, perhaps, behind them in
others. For we pride ourselves upon having
resolved to imprison all those parents who,
being poor, allow their children to neglect
the R. R. R., while we are absolutely indifferent
upon the subject of proficiency in hand work ;
although, it is .obvious that such accomplishments
as ploughing, reaping, sheep-shearing, and brick-
laying will earn bread anywhere, and at any
time, which cannot be said of the R. R. R.
One great Scholar, at all events, is exempt from
the reproach of under-rating handiwork, namely,
Mr. Thring, the celebrated Headmaster of Upping-
ham. Among the numerous debts which England
owes to this born king of boys, the introduction
of a workshop into the stock-in-trade of his
School is by no means the least important.
For an intelligent youth, under a competent
instructor, and provided with a proper supply of
11
146 CEOES Y BREILA,
tools, will soon master a handicraft, and when
he knows how to use his arms and his fingers,
he need not fear that starvation will come upon
liini, if he is willing to work ; moreover, many
a man would never have had the chance of
using his l)rains to good purpose, if he had not
first shown that he could do bodily work well.
Has the Attorney, the Barrister, the Scholar, or the
Clerk, this assurance of a modest competence any day ?
To put this question in reference to an Author would
be cruel. How many a man of that class would
be made happy if it could be said of him, as of
Mr. Ruby, that he was — Clever fob, a Gentleman.
THE EJnGRANTs' HYMN. 147
jir^OED ! be with us pilgrims, grieving
ci;:r^ For the homes which we are leaving;
Guide our footsteps weak and weary,
For the sea looks dark and di-eary.
We have loved the land which bore us ;
Loved it most, when from before us
It was fading ; — never other
Country can to us be mother.
Teach us then to forfeit never
That dear Home abiding ever;
Where the meek are in thy keeping,
And the mourners cease from weeping.
Lead us now, by Thee defended,
Heavenward ; for when life is ended.
We with longings may be burning,
But there can be no returning.
^m-^^^,
148
CROES Y BEEILA.
'IP^HE new Huguenots of France, or old Catholics,
(^ as they choose to call themselves, are engaged
in an attempt which is probably hopeless. For
the immoral, ignorant, and ignoble despotism of
Rome, like that of Louis XV. is, in these days,
more likely to load to a disastrous Revolution
than to a very moderate reform. But they have
the s}'mpathy of every Anglican who values the
strong position which our Church now holds, and
who knows, that we owe everything to the brave
efforts of foreiathers against whom much more
can be said than against the eloquent M. Loyson.
In one sense, of course, he is a schismatic ; but
then, so were we, and so are we, unless the steps
which necessarily led to our severance from the
visible Head and Centre of Christian Unity, were
justitied by a vital Apostacy on the part of that
stately and imposing Institution, which, during so
many years, was acknowledged to be
"En ChiTsto gaiou omphalos hemeteron."
As for the real Old Catholics, the nobles and gentle-
men of Lancashire and Worcestershire, who, in
OLD CATHOLICS. 149
spite of persecutions at one time, and civil disa-
bilities at another, clung, and still cling to the faith
of their ancient houses, their constancy commands
admiration. Some light, however, was thrown upon
this point incidentally by a Piedmontese nobleman.
He had been inveighing against the Pope and the
Priests with a vehemence of vituperation which
would have satisfied the Record. On which I said,
" Then you, too, are Protestant." " A Protestant ! " he
replied, "No; per Bacco ! Do you think I would
desert the religion of my mother. That is a point
of honour with us all." It is scarcely necessary to
add than he did not mean his ]\Iother Church — for
her he eared nothing. Indeed, the nature of his
oath led me to think that he would have mad^
the same answer if the immoral Paganism, which, under
the name of Catholicism, reigned at the infallible
and immutable Vatican in the time of the Borofias,
had tbrown off its mask. Perhaps this could not
be said of the English Romanists of the old
school, but between them and the born Sectarians
who have drifted into their camp lately, and who
are still drifting in, there cannot be much
sympathy.
150 CROES Y BKEILA.
m)t iiifc of ei)xi^t
tLiPE of Christ ! 'tis inspiration's tlieme ;
Compiled without that guidance, 'tis a dream;
A nightmare one, another happier bom
Of Cliurch hells, ringing in a Christmas morn,
But all alike creations of the earth,
Dreams uninspired, and so of little worth.
Who shall attempt to analyze a brain
Intensely human ; conscious, too, of pain
And strong temptation, yet without a stain "?
Or who describe the workings of His will,
Whom Jew and Eoman failed alike to kill ;
Until He set His deathless spirit free,
And death, which seemed defeat, was victory ?
But easier this than measuring the height
And depth of Love, incarnate, infinite ;
A love so great, it pardoned an offence
More hateful still than hate — indifference !
Which bore the pain of breathing life's first breath,
And the more bitter pangs of lingering death ;
A death prolonged upon the felon's {ree,
Until His heartstrings burst with agony :
Bore all for us, though cleaving the dark sky
THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 151
Bright legions louged to shout His battle cry ;
Eager to draw, as ouce at Eden's gate,
The flaming sword, and all annihilate.
No ! they must leave Him on the Cross forlorn,
Must wait astounded till the Easter morn ;
And they, much grieving that their loyal aid
"Was thus rejected, His commands obeyed.
^Allo shall describe the royal life of Him
Who thus restrained those fiery Seraphim ?
And harder still the task, if we reflect
That there were stages in His intellect,
That, as the Babe to manhood's stature grew,
His wisdom ripened in proportion due.
A growth in wisdom ! How could increase be
In the One Wisdom of eternity?
Ancient of days ! and yet a new-born joy !
A perfect God ! and yet a learning boy ! "
Author of light ! artificer of man !
And yet a poor, a homeless artisan !
Who could construct in fitting sequence this
Immense, ineffable analysis ?
Then, since I know, that while we strive to meet
The risen Lord, His word will guide our feet.
Silent I pause, nor let my mind, perplexed,
With its poor comment, mar the perfect text.
152 CROES Y BREILA.
Nor doubt that He, the only. wise, will bless,
A holy awe no language could express ;
For though He pardons, when, with blinded eyes,
His Triple Oneness mortals scrutinise ;
And smiles at disquisitions, which engage
The rapt attention of this prying age.
He loves them best, who know their eyes are dim,
And in their dimness closer cling to Him.
I
I
A LAY FKOM THE APOCRYPHA. 153
^ 3Lai? from tljc ^pocvwpi^a.
I.
fHE Paschal moons unnoticed past,
v_. For every year was one long fast,
And from her inland seas.
From Hermon's hill, and Elah's vale,
Went up to God Judffia's wail,
Against Epimanes.*
n.
In vain the Priest of Modin met
With righteous scorn, fair words, and threat ;
In vain, with indignation strong
At an autocracy of wrong,
Its myrmidons he slew ;
Against a host of lordly foes,
Amidst a people weak with woes,
What could his great heart do ?
Still Mattathias sowed the seeds
Of his successor's glorious deeds ;
Though to the hills 'twas his to fly,
Or by his Altar stay to die,
When Philip chose the Sabbatli day
* Antiochus EpiiAiiues. Athenaeus.
154 CROES Y BREILA.
To set his battle in array,
And thus unharmed at will to slay.
III.
For of that httle band which fled,
One horseman ofttimes turned his head ;
As if he scarce the shame could bear
Of yieldnig to his sire's despair,
As if he felt that days of rest
By holy deeds are doubly blest —
And that no holier deed could be,
Than striking heavy blows to free
The world from Satan's tyranny.
IV.
And noted by his father's eye,
Was that unflinching mien ;
Thnt look, which seemed aloud to cry
Shame on a shameful scene,
A ragged band in headlong flight,
Although no foe remained in sight,
And peacefully, without a breath.
In the pale moonlight, still as death,
Smiled the lone lake of Chinnereth.
V.
Nor did the lesson of that hour
O'er Mattathias lose its power ;
A LAY FROM THE APOCRYPHA. 155
So, tliongli be loved the other four,
Whom, his dead wife at Modiu bore,
Joannan, Thassai, Avaran —
And God's last gift, more boy than man,
His mother's darling, Jonathan,
Yet most he loved that gallant son,
Who taught him then to say :
What though the Sabbath has begun !
If truth and right we champion.
To struggle is to pray !
VI.
Aud bravely Judas earned the praise
His dying sire bestowed ;
Nor did He shrink, in after days,
From monarchy's hard load.
Which he alone, who bears it, knows,
A people's wants, a people's woes.
VII.
But though on dangerous heights he trod,
For him the sunbeams shone ;
And, as of old, the grace of God
Led His brave soldier on.
And oft a heaveuly voice would say,
" With lightnings armed at break of day,
Ifif) CROES V EllIilLA.
Shall come to dominate the fray,
My bright battalion.
*And comely knights, with horses five,
And bridles all of gold,
Timotheus from his lines shall flrive
To Gazara's stronghold :
And God with thee, shall ever be
Most present when invisibly."
VIII.
Such promises had nerved his soul
When first he wielded the control
O'er Israel's tribal ranks ;
When first he planned the long campaign
From Lebanon, through Bashan's plain,
To Kishon's wooded banks,
t When " after thee " amid the din.
Cried the front ranks of Benjamin.
And Judas, rising from his knee,
Answered, "Of God is victory;" J
Then straightway charged, a proud man he,
Armed with a nation's "■ after thee."
•2 Mace. X. 29. f Judges v 14. J 2 Mace. xiii. 15.
A LAY FROM THE APOCRYPHA. 15]
IX.
For always goes a war aright,
When " after thee " leads on the fight ;
Such was the battle-cry
Which wrecked the Canaanites, and sent
Doomed Sisera to Jael's teut,
By her soft hand to die.
And shivered sword, and shattered spear,
And the reverberating cheer,
When Judas charged front, flank, and rear,
Showed that the old familiar spell,
Which fired the ranks of Othniel,
Had still the same reply.
X.
Thus bygone triumphs were renewed,
Again was Esdraelon strewed
With Syrians lying dead ;
Again along Bethsura's slopes,
Like herds of frightened antelopes,
The mightiest boasters fled ;
Again with glorious butchery
The Kishon ran blood- red.
And always in the front of all
The Maccabee pressed on.
158 CROES Y BKEILA,
Known by his stride, his stature tall,
And holy gonfalon. *
And where the sword, which he had won,
His + Apollouius gleamed,
There, deadly as Apollyon, '
Or Azrael, he seemed.
XI.
Yet there were days of doubts and fears
As when the rumour ran.
Hark ! in the hills the charioteers,
'Tis J Gorgias leads the van ;
Hark ! how they rattle down the rocks,
Those grinding iron wheels,
Like the dull boom of earthquake shocks,
Mingling with thunder peals.
Then rose the cry, " We die ! we die !
'Tis time to fly ! 'tis time to fly ! "
And nimble were the heels.
XII.
And what did Israel's chieftain, when
The brave had ceased to hope ?
The motto was from Ex. xv. 11. f 1 Mace. iii. 12.
I 1 Mace. iii. and iv.
A LAY FROJI THE APOCRYPHA. 159
Such momeuts try the soul, but then
Arise the true-born Kings of men,
With the dark hour to cope.
So Judas winnowed out each hfe,
Which aged sire, or child, or wife
Could claim to shelter from the fray,
Then to the rest (how few were they)
He shouted, " Comrades, would ye fly ?
Then fly ye shall ! Yet will not I !
Yet will not I ! Yet will not they !
Who* saw how Seron, hot to slay,
Like spent siroccos died away ;
Who know the deeds which God can do,
Saving by many, or by few :
Then let the brave abide with me
To share accustomed victory,
But go, ye cravens, where ye vnl\,
Our courage ye wonld damp ;
Lo ! yonder, sheltered by the hill.
Is pitched the women's camp ;
Go tell them, I shall fight for them,
Their honour, and their lives,
The daughters of Jerusalem,
Ye hope to have for wives ;
Tell them, Ye left me when I drew
My sword, and shield and helmet threw
160 " CROES Y BEEILA.
Beliiutl mo, aud away,
Aud will ye tempt tliem to despair '?
No, sure am I, that they
By Mizpah's prayer inspired, will share
My glory here to-day ;
For if ye know it not, they know
The mercies of the Syrian foe,
Aud mightier than their dread is hate,
As they in fancy contemplate
The cai)tive maiden's hideous fate.
xm.
And is it not a happy lot,
Since death, although we love him not,
Must meet us hy and bye.
To front him frankly in the fray,
And at the close of some proud day
Upon the ground to lie.
Where Judah's bravest sleeping are,
Their faces seamed with many a scar.
And their fixed eyeballs gazing far
Into the midnight sky ;
For they, who in the might of prayer
Graft deathless hope on dead despair,
Live" though they seem to die."
A LAY FEOIM THE APOCRYPHA. 161
XIV.
Then was there one who dared depart
Unheeding that appeal ?
One so degenerate in heart,
So vile as not to feel
An overwhelming zeal to stand
For God, and for the Fatherland ?
XV.
No, none were missed when Judas swept
The Syrians out of sight,
Nor many, when the victors kept
Their feast that summer night ;
And if in camp some women wept,
It was not with affright ;
For they who thus confront the foe.
Have conquered, ere they strike a blow.
XVI.
So onward still that torrent rolled,
An ever-swelling band,
On, as in Joshua's days of old
Over the Holy Land ;
'Twas like the Suph's avenging flood,
Eeturning to its bed ;
For the wild waters, red with blood,
Foamed o'er the mighty de;ul.
12
162 CROES y BREILA.
xvn.
Now AlcimuR, now Lysias,
That avalanche would stem ;
But, as when Alpine climbers pass
Too near the perilous crevasse,
So death awaited them.
And more triumphant Avas the shout,
For more precipitous the roi;t
When God, in human form revealed,
His crowning mercy gave ;
Leaving Nicanor on a field
So fatal, it refused to yield
His headless corpse a grave.
XVIII.
And now before the Maccabee
Rose the great prize of victory,
Araunah's threshing floor ;
The House of God it used to be,
The House of God no more.
For holy worship had not been
Therein for many a day ;
But rites demoniac, deeds of sin,
From which the sculptured Cherub in
Would fain have turned away :
And holy worship, that alone
A LAY FROJI THE APOCRYPHA. 1G3
Can cousecrate mere wood and stoue;
Without it, wortliless is the glass
Wliich paiuts the sunbeams as they pass ;
"Worthless each artificial note
Which vibrates in the venal throat.
God's mercy can array
A temple in the wilderness,
For sorrow, longing to confess,
For weakness gone astray.
XIX.
Still there is virtue in each spot
Where God, although we see Him not,
Is present by His Word ;
The House wherein, through ages long,
At Matins and at Evensong,
Good tidings have been heard :
Such sacred homes o'er England spread,
Are England's noblest part ;
If she neglects them she is dead,
In spite of loom and mart ;
For skilful hand, and scheming head.
Are nurtured by the heart.
And so to save such homes from wrong
The dove is bold, the lamb is strong.
lG-1
CROKS Y CKlilLA.
XX,
Then who can tell the joy of them
Who saw the chosen race
Restored to tlieir Jerusalem,
Their holy dwelling place ;
Who guarded, sword hi hand, the Prients
Preparing long-neglected Feasts ;
And saw the odorous incense rise,
At the accepted sacrifice ;
And heard the Hallelujah's ring,
In Zion's courts, to Zion's King.
XXI.
'Twas like as when a captive maid,
Who through the night despaired of aid,
At morn awaking, weak and wan,
And finding Bey and Pacha gone.
And at her feet her champion,
Her lover once, hut now her Lord
(For love gives gladly love's reward).
Leans her tired head upon his hreast,
And in his strong arms sinks to rest.
Thus Zion's rescued daughter clung
To her deliverer's knee.
And felt that she once more was young.
Since she once more was free.
A I.AY FROII THE APOCRYPHA. 165
XXII.
Was free ! what joy is iu the word ;
What rapture fills the soaring bird,
Who, prisoned wdiile he planned his nest,
Against the bars with bleeding breast
Battered, and long in vain,
Yet battered, till he felt them yield,
Then issued forth, and flew a-field
To find his mate again.
XXIII.
But there is 3'et a heavier yolce
Than that which Maccabfeus broke ;
A House of God more holy still,
Thau that which crowned Ai'aunah's hill.
A war begun, wdiich. is not done.
Until the better laud is won.
God grant that we Avith Christ may be
In His great day of victory.
XXIV.
For there is One, and only One,
Whose djdng conquered death ;
Emmanuel, Jehovah's Son,
The Christ of Nazareth.
And if, when selfish passions sting,
166 CROES Y BREILA.
And birds of prey are on the wing, ,
A Mediator lie
To warring nations were revealed,
No Judas need arise to shield
The weak from tyranny ;
And at the bitter end to yield
- His life, upon the blood stained field,
And not in '•' victory.
For battle's mad delight would cease,
And liappier days begin,
And earth rejoice in her release
From the long reign of sin ; J
And the Clmrch bells, proclaiming peace,
Ring a new cycle in.
* I Mace. ix. 18.
4
NOBODY AND SOMEBODY. 1G7
tF the first Liician of Samosata had been like
the second in some respects, that is, if he
had written as a Christian, when he might, and
oug-ht to have done so, his voluminous works
would not 1)0 offered in catalogues for a few
shillings, without finding purchasers, even at that
low price. For he w^as a remarkable man, and
one who might reasonably have expected to
secure an abiding popularity. In these days,
enough, and perhaps more than enough of broad
fun is thrown on the world in prose, but Lucian
wrote in this style when the thing was quite
new. And very good fun some of it is. No
one, not even a schoolboy, can read about
Outis or Nobody, without laughter.
In this case, however, the author owed
much to the happy selection of his subject.
For what a fertile theme is Nobody ! What
a number of sins have been laid on the
head of Nobody ! There was a time, when
1G8 CRORS Y BREILA.
cats were unknown in houses, and then
tlie Oiitis must have played the part of
that useful animal, in so far as serving to
account for tlie breaking of crockery, and the
surreptitious enjoyment of forbidden dainties.
But if the Outis or Nobody has borne some
heavy burdens, the Tis or Somebody has been
and is far more unfortunate in this respect. A very
few words will convince the most sceptical on
this point.
Let us suppose, then, that the reader of these
pages is in the money world a Somebody, a
Billionaire in fact, for Millionaires are Nobodies
now. Of course people who have not climbed
to this exalted position, regard him with ignorant
envy ; but, if the man himself has a sensitive
conscience, or a tender heart, he endures a sort of
martyrdom every day. For what harrowing narra-
tives of human suffering arrive by every post,
and each one of them is the pleading of a Lazarus
to a Dives. But Dives knows that ninety-nine
out of every hundred of those who thus claim
his bounty, are impostors. He, however, also
knows, and here is the sting of his life, that the
hundredth man is a real Lazarus, a genuine suf-
NOBODY AND SOMEBODY. 169
ferer, for whom tlie arnis of Abraham are open.
But how is poor Dives to discover amidst this
bottle of chaff, the one latent needle of true
steel. If the problem were presented only once
in a lifetime, he might make an effort to solve it ;
but recurring, as it does, every morning, the
accumulating mass cannot be sifted, and so it
goes into the fire. But this destination of a
petition from Lazarus to Dives suggests unpleasant
reflections.
Or let us suppose that the reader belongs to
the world of literature, and that he is a Somebody
there. In this case, besides the applications above-
mentioned (for the successful author is potentially
a millionaire now), every breakfast is spoiled by
the arrival of MSS. in heaps. Young men
and maidens, old men, and even children are
supplicants for aid in the promulgation of their
works ; for aid, which, as they assure the great
poet, or delightful novelist, will cost him nothing.
Would he just write a preface to this Epic on
Tiberius, or merely recommend that History of all
Creation to some discerning and liljeral Publisher.
For every one of these literary Nobodies, the heart
of the literary Somebody aclies. With them he
170
CROES Y BREILA.
feels tlio most acute sympathy ; for was he not
one of that struggling disa})pointeJ herd of envious
Bohemians not so many weeks ago ? Did he not
once sit on the stool just inside the door of the
great house in Hougomont Place ? Did he not sit
there in the full view of every passer by, while
a supercilious clerk was seeking in some cobweb-
covered pigeon hole for a work, then unread, but
now famous ? And does he not feel that it was
sheer good fortune, and no particular merit of his
own, which induced a literary accoucheur to bring
the well, the work shall be nameless, into the
world ? All poor authors, then, are brothers of the
literary Somebody, and he wishes them a success
equal to his own; but what more can he do for
them ? He has still to work hard in order
to keep his place in the front rank; and, in his
last dealings with Messrs. Pennyroyal, there was
an ominous disposition to haggle about the price.
The literary Somebody, then, cannot spare time
to help his unfortunate clients. Possibly he casts a
hurried glance at one or two of the least ponderous
heaps of MS., and, perhaps, unfortunate in his
selection, he hits upon an imitation of a style
which, being his own, he believed to be inimitable
NOBODY AND SOMEBODY. 171
but which, as he now finds, may, at all events, be
copied in its blemishes. After this, of course, he
reads no more, but he goes to his own work
with a saddened spirit which does not improve
the quality of" those airy fancies which have
gained him his reputation.
The person, however, who deserves the greatest
pity, is he whom success as a preacher has raised
to be a Somebody. Flattery of all sorts is dangerous
food, but the adulation administered by religious
people to their adored Pastor is, morally speaking,
the most dangerous poison known to the world.
To see its baneful effects in full blast, one must
cross the Atlantic ; for in this country, happily,
we don't, as yet, hire a Minister of the Gospel, and
then let the seats in his theatre to the highest
bidder ; although it is quite possible that our
present propensity for copying may bring us to
this. And, even now, England can produce some
saddening specimens of the Clerical Somebody.
The Reverend Jacob Nobody, for instance, de-
veloped at an early age an aptitude for hortatory
talk; having, as the son of eminent Nonconformists,
imbibed unction naturally. Formerly, there was a
great lack of this article in the National Church, and
172 CROES Y BREILA.
no demand ; but it came into tasliion about the time
when Mr. Nobody passed over to the ranks of the
Establishment. The consequence of this was rapid
promotion, and Mr. Nobody soon became Dr. Some-
body. On the discourses of the preacher, this rise
in the world produced a wholesome effect; they were
more sober, and far less sour. But the man, himself,
changed for the worse. The Nonconformist Nobody
had been a gentle, retiring, and pleasant man, at
least when he was not wound up ; a little childish
and namby pamby, perhaps, but not at all offensive.
The Rev. Dr. Somebody, on the high road to
become a Right Reverend, is the most vain and
egotistical creature in existence. According to his
account, he never enters a railway carriage without
finding that every one is discussing himself. This
is certainly curious, since other people travel for
miles either in unbroken silence, or amidst snatches
of talk which are eminently secular. But this is
not the experience of Dr. Somebody's life. Every-
body, everywhere, it seems, is talking of him.
And this being so, he asks you innocently what
he ought to do ? Should he announce that he,
the great Somebody, is present in person ? If
so, he assures you, that the consequence would be
NOBODY AND SOMEBODY. 173
hushed homage ; or should he, muffling himself up
in his habitual comforter, submit incognito to be
told that Somebody is the Chrysostom of the
Anglican Church ? for, strange to say, railway
travellers, when journeying with him, seem to know
all about St. Chrysostom. You are unable to
answer the question submitted to you, and you
enquire what is his practice under these trying
circumstances ? He rephes, that sometimes he
maintains his incognito; and then there is suie to
be some friend waiting for him at the station,
who, on the arrival of the train, cries out,
" There he is ! there is our dear friend, Dr. Some-
body ! " The consequence of which is, that a
hundred heads are protruded from the windows all
down the train, and Dr. Somebody receives re-
proachful, but complimentary letters, from all with
whom he journeyed. The next time, he assures
you, that he stopped the flood of praise at once,
by removing his comforter, and announcing his
name, on which every one in his carriage drew out
a pencil and prepared to take notes. Just now,
this Somebody, the subject of so much adulation,
is pleased to say that he is about to suffer per-
174 CROES Y DREILA.
secution. In other words, he intends to relapse
into Nonconformity, without relinquishing his hold
on the benefits derived hj him from the National
Church. In fact, he contemplates a deliberate
and sensational breaking of the law.
In the case of ordinary persons, this sort of
proceeding would, of course, be not only criminal,
but iu the highest degree mischievous ; for a loyal
obedience to all laws is the sheet anchor of every
free State. But Dr. Somebody is of opinion that the
law which he proposes to break is no law to him,
inasmuch as it was made by the wrong people,
and is wrongly interpreted, by the wrong judge.
To procure, by every legitimate means, an alteration
of this law, would be the course adopted by
sensible people, under such circumstances ; or failing
to do this, they would get beyond its operations,
and become Nonconformists. But Somebody can
see no other plan for him to pursue, except to
break the law and retain his benefice. Nor does he
perceive that by this line of conduct he places himself
on a level with the poacher, who holds the same
views in reference to the pursuit of game, and who
acts in the same lawless fashion. At all events,
Dr. Somebody, with much emotional eloquence, informs
NODODY AND SOMEBODY. 175
the world that he is prepared to endure martyrdom.
Now martyrdom is a very fine word, and recalls to the
mind some of the noblest deeds which human
beings have ever performed. But martyrdom does
not mean quite so much now as it once did. Dr.
Somebody, for instance, instead of going to the
lions, will only become a greater lion than ever. And
he will occupy this envied position at very little
cost. For all that he can lose is his income ; and
he has explained to his admirers, that, in case he
is ejected from his benefice, he shall expect them
to take care of him, by providing just the same
sum which he is so magnanimously ready to
surrender. No doubt they will do this, and con-
sequently the martyred Dr. Somebody will spend
a happy holiday in visiting Rome, or perhaps Holy
Russia, after which he will submit to his Bishop,
who will make him a Canon. This presents on the
whole, a not unpleasant prospect for the martyr;
but the laymen who belong to the suffering sect,
must sometimes reflect, that, if this be persecution,
and if it can be secured at the moderate cost of
a few candles and incense, and dresses, used at the
wrong time and place, there may not only be an
embarrassing supply of candidates for the honour,
176 CROES Y BREILA.
but also tliat some ridicule may be cast on such
martyrdoms.
Now every one who knows this preacher, would
be sorry to see him exposed to unpleasant treatment
in the future, and the following anecdote might be
useful to him, if he would carefully digest it.
" Once on a time some Bostonian Promoters
expended a considerable capital in a great
religious speculation, that is to say, they built a
huge Chapel, and they engaged a Minister from
whom they expected great things. Under these
circumstances, they were naturally anxious when
the first Sunday arrived, to know how the
thing would go off. Happily, the sermon
was a complete success. It is true, people
neither clapped nor stamped, but at the conclusion
of each eloquent paragraph, the little coughs,
which had been pent up, broke forth, and the
Directors knew what this noise meant. At the
conclusion, the Minister returned to the Vestry, in
which place he found his employers with radiant
faces. ' I guess. Sir,' said one of them, rubbing his
hands, ' I guess, Sir, Mammon will feel himself
hard hit by that discourse of yours. I calculate
he would not know 'zackly what to say ; now would
NOBODY AND SOMEBODY. 177
he, Sir?' In after years the preacher might have
been j^leased to receive the compliment, and have
founded upon it a claim for more dollars ; but he
was young then, and that depression had come over
him which so frequently follows after religious
exaltation. So he said, sadly, ' When my head
sunk on the cushion of the pulpit, I received the
congratulations of Mammon himself. Yes, gentle-
men, it was he who whisjoered in my ear,
Well, that was a good sermon.' ' Brethren,' he
added, 'let us pray to be delivered from that evil
spirit who is never more dangerous than when he
transforms himself into an angel of lioflit.' All
knelt, and, perhaps, when the books are opened,
that short prayer, which came from the heart, will
be found to have covered the vainglory of multitu-
dinous preachments Avhich were uniformly admired,
but which never induced any man or woman or
child seriously to determine to fight against Satan,
in other words, to lead a godly and self-denying
hfe."
If it be clear then that the Somebody,' and
especially the -Clerical Somebody is, in a moral
point of view, to be pitied rather than envied, the
13
178 CROES Y BREILA.
question arises, Is there any esca2:)e for him from
his gilded bondage ? It is to be feared that a
complete emancipation is impossible. Once a Some-
bod}^ always a Somebody, is a rule so far as
external burdens are concerned. Nor can the
internal discomfort be avoided entirely. Lord
Byron fled irom England in dismay as soon as the
strong light, which he had so laboured to bring-
down on himself from the poetical clouds, really
fell on his head. But he could not escape the
painful glare. Every newspaper 'which he took up
paraded before a j^rurient world the private
wretchedness which, had it belonged to a Nobody,
might have hid its face. But the deadliest part
of the internal mischief is happily curable, and
liere is the prescription.
Let the Somebody, whoever he may be — the
Croesus, the Shakespeare, or the Chrysostom — look,
in the solitude of the night, at the milky way
above his head. Let him reflect on the magnifi-
cence of that bright galaxy of worlds, the number
of which will never be told, since no telescope can
penetrate its depths ; and let hinf remember that
He who fashioned those multitudinous orbs, He,
who regulates their majestic order, is present in
NOBODY AND SOMEBODY. 179
every part of every one of them, and equally
present at man's side, although unseen. To the
most arrogant, the most egotistical of human beings,
this thought will then come home, " Lord, Avhat is
man that Thou art mindful of him, or the son of
man, that thou so regardest him ? Man is like a
thing of nought. Yes, he is an utter Nobody at
the best."
5Sauus,
,!WHE three askings in a village Church are not
unseemly. But when, as in populous Parishes,
they take up half-an-hour every Sunday, the
practice becomes a nuisance. It admits, however,
of an easy remedy. Fifty years ago, all notices
were promulgated from the Reading Desk; now,
as a rule, they are posted on the doors of all places
of worship. Why should not this precedent be
followed in the case of Banns ?
180 CUOES Y BEEILA.
^i)t l^alm Suntrat? of Scvtta.
^S^TO bells were cliimccl, none dared to call
^ l^ The scattered flock to prayer ;
But on the Holy Morn, for all
Who dwelt around Takova's wall,
God's voice was in the air ;
So the Serbs' Church was full, and palms
Were waved, amid Hosannah psalms,
When Milosch entered there ;
Nor, though the heathen round them mocked,
And at the shattered windows knocked.
And told of Kara's fate,
Was Christian courage seen to fail ;
And if the cheek of some grew pale,
'Twas not from fear, but hate.
Then from the altar spake a Priest,
" Arise, and let us keep the Feast,
Our Easter draweth nigh."
Such the strange text, and like the clang
Of trumpets was his wild harangue,
Eebellion's battle cry.
" Obrenovitch, these days of Lent
Befit our fortunes well,
THE palm" SUNDAY OF SERVIA. 181
For to the vanquislied merrimeut
Is grief unspeakable ;
And even these Palm Sunday strains,
Triumphant since they are,
Upon the rankling of our chains
Intolerably jar ;
But courage, wrecked on hopes deferred,
Kides buoyant, rescued by God's Word."
Of Caleb then, and David he
Told the eventful history ;
And next of serfdom's wrongs he spoke,
Of desecrated shrines.
Of breaking the oppressor's yoke,
And smiting Philistines ;
And how he rises from the grave,
Who was, but will not be a slave.
And then he added, while his eyes
Blazed fiercely, as our English skies
When all the hills, in all the shires
At Philip flung their warning fires,
" Servians, who that hears me now
Will take the new Crusader's vow ?
Of all the Heyducks which ?
Our Caleb now, our David thou,
Milosch Obrenovitch,
182 CROES Y BREIIiA,
May Angels and Archangels bless
Our Milosch, onr Worowna Knes."
And what the brave, the prompt reply ?
" War has begun ! its soul am I !
Its soul am I ! till all be won !
Tlie war of freedom has begun."
A war of which the end as yet
Is hid in mystery ;
For the foul flag of Mahomet
Makes black the Danube's Sea,
And they who fain would drive away
The Moslem robber from his prey,
Have fed on carnage since the day
They left their Ukraine nest ;
A vulture's Aving, and stiug of asps,
Hath Holy Russia, and she grasps
Belgrade and Bucharest.
WILTSHIRE CURED. 183
STiJ'AEEY PIGGOTT, the Moonraker
CjU, (Held in honour is the name),
Of his fortune was the maker,
And the founder of his fame.
For he cured his Wiltshire flitches,
And his bacon was first chop,
And his ever growing riches
Grew at last to such a crop,
That his girls, the little witches,
Told him he must leave the shop.
So he took from Lord de Labbey
Yards of glass, and miles of wall.
Took his Dunderdownham Abbey,
Servants, carriages, and all.
There as county folks they set up,
Startling Dunderdownham Church,
Where the Piggotts' pretty get up
Left the Startupps in the lurch.
184 CROES Y BREILA.
But of troubles tliey had plenty,
And of pleasures very few,
For a tradesman with tsvice twenty
Servants, wishes he had two.
And liow lazy were the flunkies,
And how impudent the lads,
Falser than a load of monkeys,
Or the students of St. Cads.
And the Dunderdownham butler
Was not all that he professed,
But an idle, drunken suttler,
Subtler he than all the rest.
And the gardeners took the prizes
For deserts, hut not their own,
And the Piggotts, at Devizes,
Bought desserts which they had grown.
And the Dunderdownham carriage
Would be wanted, you"ll admit,
At Augusta Piggott's marriage,
Did they have it? not a bit.
WILTSHIRE CURED. 185
" All the horses," said the Jehu,
" Are in physic, balls, and drink,"
Balls they may have had, 'twas he who
Ha^ the other dose, I think.
And the Lawyer, the Phj^'sician,
And the Vicar used to call ;
But the people of position
Never came to them at all.
And the Abbey was a show place.
Though there was not much to see,
And a show place — it is no place
For a quiet family.
And at night the house was haunted,
Grinning monks in half the rooms ;
Piggott faced the ghosts undaunted,
And unmasked his grinning grooms.
So at last he grew down-hearted.
From the hated Abbey turned ;
With the saucy servants parted.
Paying wages never earned.
18G CEDES Y BREILA.
To tlie dear old home he wended,
To the gardens where the ground,
With a loving culture tended,
Gave enjoyment all year round.
Where his daughters made a clearance
Of the peaches, when they chose,
And no servant's interference
Put in quarantine the rose.
And he cured his Wiltshire gammon,
For employment, earning health ;
And invested all his mammon
In a stock of heavenly wealth.
And his wealth, upon his bounty,
Throve, eternally insured,
And, throughout his native county.
He was known as Wiltshire cured.
THE FRIEND.
187
(Heine.)
h DVICE they gave me, counsel good,
Poured praises o'er me, quite a flood ;
" If I would wait on tbem," said they,
"'Twould please them much to be my stay."
But had I thus relied on them,
I should have known what 'tis to clem ; *
But then there came a worthy man,
Who took my part, as such men can.
A worthy man, he serves me yet.
His usefulness I don't forget,
I'd shake his hand — if that might be —
But that I can't, for I am he.
* In the original, as here, an old-fashioned word is used for starve.
188 CROES Y BRF.ILA.
FEIEND, a more than frieucl, 'tis his to bless
The happy momeut of a first success,
With frank appreciation, right good-will,
Making the brightest triumph brighter still.
And his no less congenial task, to cheer
The vanquished, when a place
Far in the rear
Tells of the wasted hours, and seems to be disgrace.
To such that voice has ever said,
" Brother, lift up thine head,
And cheer thy drooping soul,
All reach not honour at its earthly goal,
But brave men try and try,
Till, ever trying, at the last they die.
Grateful, that glory mocks them not on high."
&»
EASTER EVE. 189
tLL is o'ei- ; He fought the fight,
And with Him remained the right,
But another had the might.
All is o'er ; His life has flown,
And the Man Who claimed a throne,
Lies in Joseph's tomh alone.
On the stone the seal is set ;
He has x^aid the heavy debt,
Let us not the price forget.
All is o'er ; but not for long ;
Easter Morn will hear the song,
He has triumphed over wrong.
Christ has risen from the grave,
Has reclaimed the life He g'ave,
And will ever life to save.
Thus may sin and sorrow die,
In the rock-hewn tomb to lie,
Till we rise with Him on high.
190 CROES Y BREILA.
'^HOU, Who once at Cana's wedding
l^^ Didst a guest appear ;
Thine Almighty bounty shedding
On the marriage cheer :
Fount of Life, with mercy gushing!
Bridegroom ! Holy . Vi^ie !
At Whose word the water, blushing,
Eeddened into wine ;
Bless Thy people, when they enter
Into Wedlock's bands ;
Be to them a mystic Centre,
Joining hearts and hands !
So that they may ne'er be parted,
But be one with Thee ;
Kindred spirits, single-hearted,
As the Trinity !
TOASTS. 191
Coasts,
t EIGHT REVEREND PRELATE, presiding at
- ^^^ a public dinner, once gave so many toasts
that all the guests would have been under the
table if they had honoured them But, in that
case, if any of them had committed the crimes
Avhich so frequently arise from drunkenness, the
Right Rev. Chairman, who is a Teetotaller, would,
morally speaking, have been an accessory before
the fact, and, in a well ordered country, would
have been punished accordingly.
Surely, then, the Church of England Temperance
Society, which hitherto has only listened to the
fanatical harangues of Total Abstainers, whose
principles it professes to repudiate, might attempt
this practical work of abolishing Toasts.
Success, here, would be certain. For every one
connected with a public dinner, from the Chairman
down to the smallest waiter, says, " We got through
the Toasts." But a Pagan practice which has to be
GOT THROUGH, might easily be got rid of
192 CROES Y BREILA.
I.
i^VNCE on a time, -svith sword, find bow, and spear,
-^^ Urged by an imi^ulse lie could scarce define,
A rebel chief, a furious charioteer,
Drove o'er the dusty plains of Palestine ;
Drove on to seeming ruin, for his track
Lay right across his royal master's back.
Then from that master's watch-tower, whence the foe,
Discomfited and crushed, had ofttimes gone.
Spurred forth an eager runner, sent to know
Why that strange chariot came so wildly on.
And this the question borne upon the breeze,
"My Lord and master asks thee, Is it peace?"
III.
"What peace ! " replied that angry charioteer,
While robbers thrive, and witches are so many ;
"What peace! " not staying in his wild career;
" What peace ! Behind me, knave ! I know not any."
The watchman said, " The messenger we sent
Eeturns not, surely there is evil meant."
I
JEHU. 193
IV.
Then forth another runner clattering came,
His message as before, "Say, Is it peace?"
But still the rebel's answer was the same —
" Behind me, knave, and let your prating cease : "
At which the warder cried, "That man must be
Lord Nimshi's son ! he drives so furiously."
V.
King Joram said, -''Make ready;" then was made
His chariot ready ; Ahaziah's too ;
And forth they went, though trembhug and afraid,
To meet the steeds which winged with vengeance flew.
'Twas in the plain of Jezreel, the plot
Which from the murdered Naboth Ahab got.
VI.
Then Joram, meeting Jehu, asked again,
" Say, is it peace, my Jehu ? " Answered he,
" What peace, so long as Jezebel 'is fain
To swell her fields by blood and robbery."
He heard, and cried aloud, " 'Tis time to fly ;
Ahaziah, there are traitors nigh ! "
VII.
But Jehu strung his judgment-dealing bow,
And fixed the fated arrow on the string:,
14
101 CROES Y BREILA.
Then drew it with his utmost strength, and, lo !
It pierced the tempered harness of the king ;
And from that cliariot oozed a purple flood,
"Wliicli dogs hipped fiercely, for 'twas royal blood
vin.
And Bidkar cast his carcase on that ground
Which once was Naboth's, now for Joram strewn
With bitter herbs, which always must abound
In vineyards made through violence our own,
Tlie Poland of King Ahab was that place,
A short possession, and a long disgrace.
XI.
But onward, onward went that chariot still,
Unswerving, unforgiving, led by fate.
Until those virgin turrets on the hill
Lay riven, rifled, rained, desolate.
And such the fate which, by the Dardanello-,
On Naboth's plot awaits the Jezebels.
KNOTS CUT. 195
itnots ^ut*
^OME years ago, a distinguished member of
the extreme section of the National Church
died, and so highly was he esteemed by those
wiih whom he had long acted, that two biographies
I of the usual length were begun at once. However,
before either of them could be completed, it became
known that the Keverend and extremely Orthodox hero
had received the emoluments, and profited by the com-
manding position of a beneficed Clergyman, after
he had become a member of the Romish
Church, which he, consciously or unconsciously, had
served during so many years.
It is to be hoped that there are not many, if
any, cases so glaring as this. But it is notorious
that Clergymen, banded together, ostentatiously
imitate the Romanists in all things, except celibacy
(for they usually marry well), and, obeying some-
body unknown, set the laws of their Church and of
their country at defiance. The consequence of which
is, that putting sight-seers out of the reckoning,
190 CROES Y BEEILA.
their consTreffations arc even smaller than those of
the above-mentioned Cornish Vicar. For, although
he had no infiiience over any human beings except
Clergymen, he had a wonderful jiower over all
irrational creatures, and his twelve cats, called by
him the Apostles, attended his masses at Morwen-
stowe regularly.
As these things are done with impunity, it is
natural for cavillers to say that Episcopus, or
Bishop in English, does not mean Overseer, but
Overlooker — that is, a man who overlooks a great
deal what he ought to see, and to restrain, if not
to punish.
The Bishops, however, are not to be blamed,
except in so far as they patronise Clergymen who,
without liavino' the courao-e to be insubordinate,
sympathise, openly or secretly, with those who
carry their High Church principles to the legitimate
conclusions. This the Bishops do far too fre-
quently, and they uniformly set their faces against
those of the Clergy who, like the Rectors of
Ingoldsby and Newport, or the late Mr. Jelf, venture
to say a word on the other side.
The real difficulty, however, lies in the fact, that
KNOTS CUT. 197
the Beneficed Clergyman has a freehold ex- officio ;
and of a freehold in a free country, both the law
administrators and the law makers are properly
tender. But the remedy is simple. Let the free-
hold, which is temporal, and the duties, which are
spiritual, for the future be separated. Let the
former be as carefully guarded as it is now ; but
let the spiritual functions of the Minister be
subject to the Bishop, with no appeal except to
the Archbishops.
If this were the law, the immoral, the mutinous,
and even the incapable, might be shelved at once ;
and as the cure of souls, at least for a time, would
devolve on the Bishops, they would not only be
unlikely to act with undue precipitation, but they
would also be more careful in their ordinations and
their promotions than they have been lately. Of
course, if they neglected to do their duty, they
might be subject to a mandamus.
The freehold of the Church and Churchyard
ought to belong to the Wardens, both of whom
should be elected by the Parishioners. The ajipoint-
ment of one Warden by the Incumbent, which is
the practice now, makes both of these functionaries,
198 CEOES Y BREILA.
being a Corporation, useless, when they are most
wanted.
If this were done, and it might be done in one
Session, we should find many Knots Cut.
oT^Y land and sea, coiled up invisible,
^^irV For man the lightning is an Ariel ;
For him the sunshine paints, for him the night
Is robbed of darkness by electric light — •
He weighs the stars, he brings the farthest near.
And tests their substance, and their atmosphere.
To our achievements, limit can thei-e be '?
Yes ! riddles spring £i-om each discovery,
And while his hills proud man ascending treads,
God's mighty mountains raise their loftier heads ;
And higher still, a coronet of clouds
The Cader Idris of the Maker shrouds.
GOODIES. 199
^t)otrD«
^F books called Goody, there are plenty —
But few are good, not one in twenty ;
And how alike ! A Vicar, Rector,
Of boys and girls the wise protector,
A nobleman, of schools the patron ;
A crippled child, a preaching matron ;
Commandments broken, theft, or lying,
Then retribution, illness, dying ;
Then planting, in a bed of roses,
A Cross, and so the Goody closes.
Who writes such books ? The chief offenders
Are sweet old women of both genders ;
And of them all, the greatest bore is
A culler of— self-styled — " Good Stones."
But worse than these, or any Goody,
Are thy dull pages, dear Aunt Judy ;
Aud the poor children ! how they read 'em !
But the sweet Goody will not feed 'em.
200 CROES Y BREILA.
t(^7'ITH that old and superlatively blue blood
/S of England, which, maintaining a circulation
once almost universal, lias had its heart always at
Rome, our Cardinal Archbishop could scarcely hope
to be a favourite. Nor has he been. When the
appointment to his See of Westminster was to be
made, Manning in the estimation of that Clerical body
which was privileged to present a nomination, and
which represented the general feeling, was neither
dignissimus, dignior, nor even dignus. And \;\\e\\
these English Romanists found that one, who had
so lately been a Protestant Archdeacon, and who
miffht have been the father of an acknowledged
family, was appointed to be their spiritual father,
they recognized the Machiavellian policy of the
Black Pope, and they anticipated troubles.
These fears, however, proved groundless. For
that section of the National Church out of which
the convert had come, has provided him with
ample scope for his energetic intrigues, and also
with food for a masculine ambition which is
sharpened by a feminine vanity. With his successes
OUR TWO CARDINALS. 201
in that quarter, the bkie blood has sympathised to
some extent, but not entirely. It has, of course,
been pleasant for these old Romanists to see the
narrow circle within which they could contract
matrimonial alliances canonically, enlarged by the
addition of millionaire Marquises, and the descen-
dants of ultra-Protestant Earls. But, on the other
hand, the unctuous letters in which some of our
Clerical wastrels have paraded the sacrifices which
they made at their conversion, and in return
have demanded the provision of younger brotliers,
must have been both humiliating and embarrassing.
The other Cardinal is much more popular with
these veterans of Rome, and they think, not without
reason, that the almost universal love which his
tenderness, and manliness, and breadth of mind
have deserved and obtained, is of more real service
to their cause than the superficial accomplishments
of his official superior. Of course, they would have
liked him better if he had been a Howard, or a
Stonor, or a Petre; but they are aware that, while
these families, with the help of Stonyhurst, may
be relied upon for producing a succession of hand-
some Monsignors, eminently qualified to chat with
Cardinal Borromeo during vespers at St. Peter's,
202 CROES Y BREILA.
the perfection of scholnrship, and the most fasciuatino^
style which has evex' s^niced the EnfjHsh laniruaQre,
must not be looked for in such quarters. If these
qualities are valuable, and on this point the world
is more and more convinced every day, the noviis
homo, who has been educated at Oxford, is the
only man to supply them. So in all other respects,
except his Protestant birth, the Bachelor Cardinal
is exactly after the heart of those who sympathise
very imperfectly with his elder brother in the
Sacred College. They see that he is profoundly
convinced of the impossibility of securing any peace
of mind without some form of faith, and they
know, that when this is the point from which a
mind starts in search of divine truth, the limit
of belief is naturally drawn by some external
authority, and must be thus drawn where the
tendency to scepticism is both subtle and honest.
Loyal obedience to Rome on this principle of
Hobson's choice, viz., that or none, is perfectly
understood by the pupils of Oscott. They appreciate
also that low, deferential, and very gentlemanly
tone in which, after an infallil)le syllabus has
ordained that the world does stand still, and must
OUK TWO CARDINALS. 203
stand still, the cfreafc Oratorian of BirminGfham has
more than once whispered Ma pur si muove.
That such a man has, at last, been admitted into
the College of Cardinals is, of course, a triumph
over the narrow party in the Church of Rome,
which there, as elsewhere, is the violent and danger-
ous party. But they must not suppose that he
will direct the policy of the Conclave, or, indeed,
that he will influence it at all. It is difficult, even
in the Church of England, for a man whose mind
is broad, and, at the same time religious, to do
more than put on the drag. In the Church of
Rome, such a phenomenon cannot do even that. His
business is simply to adorn the equipage as best
he may. He must not dream of directing it.
There both the reins and the whip are in other
hands. The Society of Jesus has long ago monopo-
lised the former, leaving to the Pope, as to a child,
the part lying between their fingers and the golden
buckle ; the fanatics have the latter, and as many
whips as they like, so that they are too short to reach
the Jesuit leaders.
To drop metaphor, the policy of Rome is
immutable, and the end of it inevitable. A des-
potism, which is an usurpation, must take for
204 CROES Y BREILA,
its motto, L'audace, Vaudace, et toujours I'audace.
To stop is impossible, although before it lies a
precipice, a Sedan. This the Black Pope knows,
if our Cardinals do not. But he knows, also, that
his business consists in keeping the army together,
an<l seeing that it gallops. His consolation is, and
this thought may have crossed the mind of Dr.
Newman also, that Sedan, after all, must be very
far off, as otherwise it would have been reached
lonof asfo.
mjc iimg of iSogs.
SCHOLAR, reared beside the Tliames and Cam,
Built up an Etou at his Uppingham.
Whence this success ? To make all teaching real
Was, with this Kiug of boys, life's beau ideal ;
So, though his bow had many strings, this one
He plied, this always ; thus his work was done,
This made him famous. All should learn from Thring,
That he does well who does his life's one thiug.
PRESUMPTION. 205
t HOUGH I should die,
,^ I'll uot deny,"
Was Peter's cry.
And yet, when tried,
He thrice denied,
And, swearing, lied.
Strong in his own
Firmness alone.
Fell the brave Stone.
For man is dust,
And must not trust
That he is just.
But Peter's tear
Brought j)ardon near,
His soul to cheer.
Thus through the Son,
Till life be done.
Is mercy won.
200 CROES Y BREILA.
Lord ! may we
From falling be
Preserved by Thee ;
Or, if we fall,
May Thy recall
Comfort lis all !
^f^t Hibtno; ^cat!).
.«cy>
^^HE most horrible of all nightmares is the appari-
tion of one with whom long ago we took
counsel which was not sweet. We, the tempters,
our hope is, have been forgiven; but lie, or she, the
tempted ! Has there been repentance and recon-
ciliation in that case ?
About the death and its continuance we have
no doubt ; but the body lives and moves. Possibl}^
it upbraids. Is not this a foreshadowing of the
Living Death ?
^m
)
DROPPING FROM THE CLOUDS. 207
^voppmg; from tt)c ^loutJ^s.
"X^'^T'HEN this earth is overpeopled, emigration
^ to the planets will be impossible. For
our peculiar organisation must stand in the way
of this voj-age, even when other difficulties have
been surmounted. But there is no reason why
the inhabitants of Neptune or Uranus — if superior
to ourselves — should not visit us at any moment.
Hitherto, they have never landed — so far as Ave
know — but there are well-authenticated stories of
armies seen in the air ; and this dropping from
the clouds would be no greater surj^rise to London,
than the ships and warhorses of Cortes and Pizarro
were to Mexico and Peru.
To be reduced from the first rank to the second,
to be killed when we were fat, and hunted for
amusement, would not be pleasant ; but, at all
events, when we had become the brute beasts of
superior creatures, we should not be jiermitted to
drink a decoction of sewage, nor to madden our-
selves with fire-water, which, in some places, seems
to be the only alternative. Nor, after we had
208 CROES Y BREILA.
contributed to the amusement of our master for
one season, and received his caresses, should we
be sold during the next to draw a night cab.
We should learn something also, which does not
occur to self-righteous people, namely, that the Son
of God did not come to save us because we were
far too good to be lost ; but, because the utter
sraallness and unutterable perverseness of a fallen
race moved Infinite compassion to pay a stupen-
dous ransom.
In the meantime, too, we might profitably reflect,
that a Being, as much superior to any possible
inhabitants of Neptune or Uranus, as they to us,
hears every cry of anguish, whether it comes from
the injured man, or the tortured animal ; and
that on the Great Day, every wTong will be
completely and finally righted by Him.
THE BAPTIST IN THE DESERT. 209
^i)t Baptist in ff)t 4Stscrt.
tLAND of stream and suiisliine, yet a waste !
Strange contradictions here ! Such elements
As sliould have made a garden, and the whole
A glowing haze, which quivering genders dearth.
And yet this very barrenness, combined
With promise so abundant, suited well
That voice, whose deep mysterious eddies flowed
Throughout a land, which all its gifts absorbed,
Yet seemed as bare (be witness Calvary),
Behind the Desert Preacher, as before.
The camel's hair, the girdle, and the staff
In a broad hand, bespoke a wayfarer
Equipped for Eastern journey, yet he stood
Erect, unmoved, absorbed, his di'eamy eyes
Dilated and dilating, like night clouds.
Which glow with gleams electrical, revealed
A force imprisoned, eager to break through
Tiie limits of things visible, and roam
O'er ether disembodied, whence it drew
Its vital inspiration. So the man
Was worthy of the scene, the scene of him —
A sun, a river, and a wilderness.
15
210 CROES Y KREIL/V.
(Heine.)
EY heart, I ask of thee
What love is? answer roe.
Two souls whose fancies meet
In one, two hearts, one beat.
And whence is Love ? tell this.
It comes, and there it is.
And say how doth it go ?
It was not Love did so.
And Love, if pure, is what ?
Is by itself forgot.
And when is Love most deep ?
When it so still doth keep.
And Love is richest when ?
In giving, richest then.
And Love, it speaketh what ?
Love loves, and speaketh not.
•MyS
I
IT FIZZES. 211
jTTLT fizzes ! Such was the doubtful praise which
^3^ a great Scholar once bestowed on the priceless
Clicquot of a nobleman with whom he was dining,
and who asked for his opinion, as a connoisseur,
upon its quality. It fizzes ! This was all that he
had to say, and it was not saying much in its
favour, as the nobleman and his butler felt. For
in fizzing, old Gooseberry is decidedly superior to
the choicest vintage of Rheims.
This anecdote, of course, belongs to modern
times. Indeed, the incident could not have
happened during the reigns of the Georges, or
before. Then, if the wine was bad (and it never
used to be bad), the bottle, being Port or Madeira,
liad no fizzingf to cover its adulteration, and con-
sequently, the unwholesome flavour betrayed itself
at once. Now, except in the case of intelligent
people, the one thing which commands success is
fizzing. Unfortunately, this remark may, with too
much justice, be applied to matters far more im-
portant than wine. For instance (to say nothing
212 CEDES Y BREILA.
of the political world), take those who have received
advancement in the National Church of late years.
To what, as a rule, have tliey owed their promo-
tion ? It will be found that a capacity for gushing
efEervescence has been far more serviceable to them
than any other sounder qualities. At all events,
retiring modesty, which had no one to blow its
trumpet, has generally remained in that cold shade
for which it was supposed to be most fitted. Some
of our Deans, and even a few of our Bishops, have
fizzed greatly in their time ; and, except in those
cases where the good sense and calm piety wliich
presides at Hartlebury, and wliich would grace
Lambeth, animates a Diocese, fizzing of all sorts
(millinery fizzing included), is tolerated, if not
promoted, while they who dare to say a word on
the other side are uniformly sent to Coventry.
This weak point, which is all the weaker because
it is thought to be the reverse, our Sceptics, who
are far more numerous than some people suppose,
observe with contemptuous satisfaction. For, being
ignorant of the vast amount of wholesome wine,
put aside as though it were worthless, and
having a natural and healthy scorn for that fizzing
which comes to the surface, they look forward
IT FIZZES. 213
hopefully to the time when their sect will be able
to play old Gooseberry to its heart's content. At
present, they perceive that the National Church is the
bulwark of Christianity all over the world, but
they think that the bulwark is, after all, only a
bladder. For not estimating that innate strength
and soundness which is kept out of sight, and
left in quiet unobserved corners, they naturally
conclude that an Institution must be irretrievably
ruined, when people can, and do say of this and
that favoured, if not popular brand — It Fizzes !
/|\UOTH Orthodox, " Where faith is souud,
Good fruits iu substance must abomid."
Experience answers, " There is ground
For diverse meanings in that fine word, sound ;
And substance suffers where the noisy sort is found."
211 CROES y UUKII,A.
€lucstious autr ^usUjcvs.
fO au luspector's questiou, " Could I ride
Hence to Calcutta '? " " No," the boys replied
He hoped to hear them say, " You'd reach the sea,"
For to the core, Episcopal was he,
So, "Wherefore uot ? " he asked. Then cried they all,
"Because you'd tumble off!"
That was a fall !
Still he resumed (his face looked small and wau),
" Define me ? what am I ? " One said,
" A mou."
" A common man ! No, something more ; go on."
At which they cried,
" You are a little mon."
" What ! Nothing more ?'•' he thundered. Whereupon
They said,
" You are an ugly little mon."
That answer doomed the School, its grants were gone !
Still 'twould be well, when praise is sought with why '?
And how ? and wherefore ? and a what am I ?
If fishers caught the w^orld's suppressed reply.
THE LOST TRIBES. 215
^!jc Host ^rtlbcss,
nr^HE readers of Israel's Banner believe that
■M
England is the carnal representative of those
ten tribes which disappeared after the captivity ;
and they conclude, that, for the fulfilment of
prophecy, we must succeed eventually in all our
undertakings.
Two points, however, have to be considered
before this comforting faith can be recommended for
general acceptance. The first is, that the pedigree
of the Irish King, through wliom we inherit, is
far less clear than the fact that we are a composite
race ; anil consequently, that we have to share any
remote honours of ancestry, not only with our
cousins of • the States, but also with Romans,
Spaniards, Gauls, Danes, Saxons, Flemings, and
Dutch, &c., &c. The next point is, that no descent,
however illustrious, no prophecies, however favour-
able, will save those from suffering wrong who
do wrong !
Still, whether we are, or are not, the carnal
representatives of Israel, we may hope that by
serving under Israel's banner, that is, by doing
216 CROES Y BEEILA.
justly, by loving mercy, and walking huml)ly with
our God, we shall enjoy, whether in prosperity or
adversity, the spiritual blessings of the spiritual
heirs of The Lost Teibes.
(ti)\xv6) I3cfcnfc.
Christians ou guard i
Your work is hard,
And often marred.
Satan within !
How can ye win
The fight with sin ?
There is one wav,
Pray and obey ;
Sin will not stay.
LEAVES. 2 1 7
jjWT RENAN, in his Life of Christ, puts forward
^=Fg§^' many indefensible surmises, one of which
is, that the destruction of the fig tree on the
Bethany road, the goodly tree so conspicuous for
its luxuriant foliage and absence of all fruit, was
an act of unaccountable petulance. In this, he is
unfortunate. For Christ's object is evident, viz.,
to provide His disciples with a standing and
strikins: condemnation of the cardinal failing of the
Jews. Leaves they had in plenty. Phylacteries !
Sacrifices ! Corbans ! In a word, Fanaticism of every
sort. Good things in their way, perhaps, as the shade
of the leafy fig tree was good, but not all that
was wanted. As for mercy, gentleness, meekness,
long-suffering, self-sacrifice, humility, where could
these fruits of the Spirit be found in the Church,
which was then established by divine right, except
in the sinless life of that poor Galilsean who was
so soon to be crucified.
As the Jews were then, so are Judaizers now.
What are our many-coloured Altar Cloths, our
Super Altars, our Candlesticks, our Vestments, our
218 CROES Y BRKILA.
Decorations, &.C.1 Nothino: ])ut leaves! And how
plentiful these have been of late, how continuously
stirred by winds, favourable and otherwise. That
no fruits have sprung from the Oxford Revival
which produced them, cannot be asserted so long
as Cardinal Newman and Canon Carter survive ;
but the fruits are not in proportion to all the fuss
and the worry, and the everlasting bloAving of
trumpets to which we are now accustomed, that
is, to the Leaves.
yJ^rAN sees not much which lies beyond his nose,
And thus escapes foreknowledge of his woes ;
But there's a Scribe whose eyesight farther goes
Thau the Archangels'; for his cunning knows
Sees, and describes creation's coining throes.
The last Assize, its opening, and its close.
Thus must he gain much grief, as I suppose,
Yet gains he consolations; even those
Which the successful well paid Author knows ;
Poor is the Prophet ! but the profit grows !
PURGING ALL MEATS. 219
^uvsmg all iittats.
^If^EOPLE are so tempted to put marginal notes
r^ to books, especially when they feel irritated,
that Croes y Breila will, no doubt, have many. This
by the way. Seriously, the universal habit of
annotating leads to the conclusion, that some of
the numerous transcribers of the Bible fell into this
practice, and it is conceivable that a few of the remarks
have been incorporated with the Book itself.
At all events, this supposition explains a passage
otherwise unintelligible, namely, Mark vii. ID.
There "purging all meats" is the note of .the
copyist, the comment which he makes upon the
words of Christ. Possibly the annotator, in this
instance, may have been Mark himself when copy-
ing out the information given to him by Peter.
But a note, and no more, the observation is. In
fact, it records the conclusion that the distinction
between one food and another is non-existent
among Christians. But if this be so, Ave may.
venture to think that real fasting has no relation
whatever to the eating of fish and eggs, or the
abstaining from other sorts of meat.
220 CROES Y BREILA
^"W^WAS in the iiincteeutb century, and in a Christian
(b^ laud,
Two little children walked abroad -two orphans — hand
in band.
The wind, the biting east wind, round their tattered
garments swept,
The searching wind, the chilling fog — and both together
wept.
For hungr}', cold, and penniless, without a home or
friend,
'Twas theirs to wander through the world — how will
their sorrows end ?
" 0, help us, worthy gentlemen ; we're very poor," they
said ;
" 0, help us, gentle ladies ; we're starving, give us
bread."
But from the chilly dawn of day, until the sun went down,
These little children rambled on, unpitied by that town.
And yet it was the Christmastide, and through the
crowded street
Were borne the cans of foaming ale, the fat things, and
the sweet.
A HAPPY CHRISTMAS. [221
Theu little Janet softly said, " 0, Robiu, why are we
So fearfully o'erlooked by raau in this our misery ?
'Twas not for us, and such as us, the children of the
poor,
This world was made, hut for the rich and happy, I
am sure.
So, let us turn away from it ; my brother, let us die ;
For then, you know, that we shall go to God in yonder
sky.
But if we die, and die we must, oh, Robin, let it be
Not in this lurid, smoky town, but in the woodland free."
Then Robin did not answer her, but he smiled on little
Jane,
And led her by her shrunken hand on through the
sleety rain.
And thus they walked beyond the noise and hollow
joys of men.
Until they sank with w^eariness, 'twas in a wooded glen ;
And there, upon the Christmas morn, together they
were found.
Cold, pale, and motionless, upon the cold, the ice-cold
ground.
But the orphans, ere the morning of that happy
Christmas Day,
Were welcomed by their Father in the fair land far away.
222 CROES Y BREILA.
"\.(^7'ITH some people in these days the word
Act Vestments is a Shibboleth, a sacred and
indispensable word. What our Reformers thought
of it may be gathered from the fact, that the term
does not appear at all in the Prayer Book, and in
our Bible only once. There it is significantly
associated with the worship of Baal !
In respect to this feature of public worship, the
only regulation needed is an enactment that the
official dress of the Minister shall be such as the
Wardens, elected solely by the Parishioners, may
have provided, subject to the approval of the
Bishop.
This might, or it might not, dispose of the
Vestments ; but it would dispose of all squabbles
about the Ornaments Rubric, and it would thus
get rid of a scandal and a danger.
THOHU VA VOHU. 223
flMID theologians, alarmed by the researches
and discoveries (real and supiDosed) of the
Geologists, have adopted one ingenious theory after
another in order to make these new lights agree
with the book of Genesis But in all this there
was lost labour, and something worse. The truth
is, that the inspired Author of that Book, and the
Geologists, deal with two distinct fields of history.
The latter are labouring, and with astonishino-
success, to unravel the marvellous secrets of that
primseval Thohu and Vohu out of which, as
Moses tells us, our world was created ; or rather
Avas so modified and reconstructed, that it became
fitted for the new race which was to replenish
it. The former, on the other hand, is oivinsf an
account of that creation — and he has nothinsf to
o
do with what came before — except to sa}", that
matter was then without form, and void, that
is chaotic, in other words, that it was Thohu
vA Vohu.
22-1 CEOES Y BUKILA.
0nx Sanitavp Canon,
(2;
NTHUSIASTIC people, especially if they have
no children, are delighted when a Clergyman
exhibits his counige by visiting those who are
suffering from infectious diseases. It is natural,
therefore, that the Sanitary Canon which forbids
this practice, should be the subject of some surprise
and more censure. For it is argued, that, Avhereas
a Doctor would never shrink from attending such
cases, the Clergyman, a fortiori, ought to be present,
inasmuch as the soul, which is more precious than
the body, in most cases needs healing. But all who
thus argue overlook one impoitant distinction, which
is this. It is true that the soul is of far more value
than the body ; but, this being the case, it is also true,
that the soul has a Divine and infallible physician,
whereas the body has not. "Come unto Me," says
the Saviour of man's soul. Woe therefore to the man
who, Avhether as a Confessor, or a Director, puts
himself between Christ and His patient. The duty,
then, of the Clergyman is to bring the sinner, not
to himself, who, as he should confess every day, is
a sinner, but to Christ, the Ever-present and the
OUR SANITARY CANON. 225
Sinless. This he will do, ordinarily, by praying, by
preaching, and by administering the Sacraments ;
above all, by taking care that both he and his
lead godly lives. He and his ; for a Hophni and
a Phineas in a family do something more than
neutralize the good example of an Eli, and they
are not uncommon in those homes where extra
professions of religion are made by the head.
If these conditions be observed, the occasions on
which it becomes needful to break the Sanitary
Canon will be rare. If, however, any person should
be afflicted both with an infectious disease, and
also with such a troubled conscience as needs
exceptional attention, then, of course, the Clergyman
will run all hazards, and he will be forgiven, even
if he spreads diseases without suffering from them
in his own person. But in such cases, and, indeed,
in all, he should remember that the Vicar is only the
Minister, not the Physician; and that, whether the
Holy Communion be celebrated or no, the Christ,
to Whom he must bring the sinner, if he
can, is never really absent for a moment, and
consequently, is really present all the time.
16
22G
CROES Y BRKILA.
y@EA birds are flying on,
^:^ Each to her nest ;
DayUght is dying on
Clouds in the West.
Yet a poor stricken one,
Weak from her fall,
Wailing to sicken one,
Creeps through it all.
For on her pillow she
Knoweth no sleep,
So by the billow she
Goeth to weep.
Cometh no rest for her
Comfortless lot ?
Will it be best for her,
When she is not ?
Yes, from the land afar
Over the wave,
THE outcast's hojie. 227
Stretchetli a Laud afar,
Mighty to save.
Bidding her linger in
Penitent prayer,
Till the Lord's finger in-
viteth her there.
Jl^alittttal eonfcsston.
rsf/
LABITUAL is a false synonym for auricular con-
fession. It is also a mischievous term. For
no member of the National Church could object if
the General Confession were used twice in every
day. Indeed, this part of Common Prayer was
intended to be an antidote, not only to the Con-
fessional, but also to other perversions of Christianity.
For they who are thus accustomed to open the
delicate secrets of their hearts to the All Pure God,
do not submit to the cross-questioning of a fellow-
sinner.
228 CROES Y BEKILA.
0\\x Cvussatfcvs.
fES, there are still Crusaders in the field —
Their leader Christ, His discipline their shield.
The pure, the penitent, on every coast
Stand side hy side, a Mahanaim host.
Unseen, yet universal, ever one,
The Church of God, the Saints' Communion,
The offspring of a Spirit, which, like air.
Pervades the globe, essential everywhere ;
Yet ofttimes unacknowledged till the breeze
Drives its white horses o'er the distant seas.
As when Elijah made his plaintive moan,
Defeated, disappointed, and alone,
Yet not defeated, nor alone ; for heaven
Its thousands counted by the mystic seven ;
And hosts which ride upon the mountain air,
Although as yet unseen, were riding there.
Thus, though our knightly files look weak and thin,
And foes without foment the strife within,
And timid hearts the dismal outcry swell,
" AH to your tents, betrayed is Israel;"
OUR CRUSADEBS. 229
And treason magnifies the groundless fear,
Which drives the venal suttlers to the rear ;
God's mighty army, swelling every hour,
A root of hfe, with life's resistless power,
Still presses on against the heathen's wall.
While Satan feels his bulwarks doomed to fall.
And so ere long, the Eosy Cross will see
Hope arming Faith for her last victory ;
"Wliile their twin-sister kneeling pleads, until
The world is lost in flames, and all is stilL
Wi)t Bells of C^usclcg.
^^OWN to the Bells of Ouseley ! how the boat
Answered each impulse of the bending oar ;
Ceasing to row, we did not cease to float
On to that hostel, by the shady shore.
But up Browne stream returning, when the bell
For Chapel stopped, we knew the truant's fate.
And felt our course had not been ordered well.
Downward too far, and upward when too late !
230 CROES Y BREILA.
^!jc Coutjcvts of l^atvicius.
N a summer's evening in those far distant
^^ days of old, when the round towers, which now
lie beneath some of the Irish lakes, fringed their
banks, two skiffs came racing across the still waters
of Lough Avouin. Being now within sixty yards
of the shore, the multitude there assembled could
see that there was one rower or sculler only in
each, and also, that the boat which had a Rosy
Cross on its green flag was in advance of the
other. This position of the two competitors had
been more hoped for than expected, for to all
appearance the rivals (and rivals they had been
in every sense),' were not fairly matched. Shallug
Tyrone, however, who might have sat for a portrait
of King David in his youth, was ahead, and most
of those who looked on wished him to win — In
truth, all were deeply interested in the contest.
For it had been agreed that the winner of the race,
that is, lie who succeeded in placing his right hand
first in the right hand of the royal maiden who
stood close to the water should, by becoming
THE CONVERTS OF PATRICIUS. 231
her husband, become the King of Ulster. And
now a breeze sprung up on the larboard side which
caused both of the rowers to use the left hand
still more vigorously than before. This was in
favour of Tyrone, for each of his arms had been
equally exercised in boyhood, and he so visibly
increased his lead that his success seemed to be
certain. At this critical moment, however, his left
oar snapped suddenly in the middle, and despair
fell on many a heart. For Arngi-awin, who soon
shot ahead, had vowed that the slave Patricius and
his friends should die on the day that he became
a King; and Patricius had taught many of those
who then stood on that shore that they must be
ready to suffer for Christ, who had been crucified
for them.
Despair, too, seemed to have mastered the beaten
man himself For he stood up, and cast away the
other oar. He drew his sword also, and few
doubted that he intended to kill himself, as his .
ancestors in similar cases of hopeless disappointment
had often done. Possibly he might have followed
their example had not Patricius, on that very
morning, repeated to him a few words Avhicli the
Master spoke when He was on earth. They are
232 CROES Y BREILA.
often thought to be very hard words, and young
Tyrone himself had, at first, felt them to be so.
But he knew now what they meant and he thanked
God that they had reached his ears. The sword,
however, was not returned to its sheath. On the
contrary, it glittered for a moment in the rays of
the setting sun, and then something fell to the
bottom of the boat. No one on the shore guessed,
at first, what had happened ; nor did Arngrawin,
who was now nearing land with a dangerous smile
on his face, feel any doubt about his victory. But,
when a bloody hand came flying over his head
through the air, his countenance looked more
terrible than ever, for a suspicion of the truth
dawned on him. It was a right hand, too, for
the young chieftain's ring was still on it, and the
hand fell at the feet of the Princess Eyeru, who,
kissing it, placed it within her own.
The prize, which had been apparently lost, was
thus won. For a moment, it is true, Arngrawin
seemed inclined to contest the decision; but his
own friends, overcome by the reckless gallantry of
his rival, restrained him. So, amid the Gaelic cry,
A hundred thousand welcomes, the happy lover was
brought to the feet of his yet happier mistress.
THE CONVEETS OF PATRICIUS. 233
On the next day, Patricius joined those two Kves
which, since childhood, had run parallel, and which
now, by holy matrimony, had become one. All
Ulster then, and all Ireland soon, became Christian.
Something like a thousand years after the
romantic event just recorded, a religious struggle
W'as again going on in Jreland — a struggle which
is still proceeding — and which as yet has turned
out far less happily than that in which Patricius
was engaged. For, in the meantime, the usurping
Papacy had sown the seeds of its semi-pagan
weeds on the ground so carefidly prepared by the
Apostle, who belonged to a far different school
of thought. And these seeds had produced, as
they always will, disunion, disloyalty, and distress.
Under these circumstances, Oliver, the Great Pro-
tector, came from England with his drastic remedies,
and one of his chiefs, the stoutest leader of Crom-
well's Ironsides, married a maiden who claimed
to be descended from Tyrone and Eyeru. He,
however, inherited little from her except the
bloody hand which had, for so many years, sur-
mounted the heraldic shield of her family. This
he placed above liis own coat of arms ; for he said
that a right hand had done good service to his
234 CROEs y breila.
race at all times ; as, indeed, it had in almost every
battle from Hastings to Naseby. He did not,
however, adopt his wife's motto ; for John Milton,
who knew the Latin poets by heart, had provided
him with one, after he. Sir Walter M , had
chased Charles the First from the battlefield of
Marston Moor. But the ©riginal motto ought not
to be forgotten, for it was composed by Patricius,
and it ran as follows : —
" Hac fuit amissa gens maniimissa manu."
And the Latin verse may be translated —
" This lost hand saved a lost land."
By this time all will have guessed what were
the words of Christ to which the attention of
Shallug Tyrone had been drawn by his friend
Patricius.
His hand, Tyrone's right hand, had stood in
the w^ay of his success and his happiness. Under
these circumstances he had not hesitated a moment,
but liad cut it off, and cast it from him. Thus
he bad won his bride and her kingdom. How
many would do as much to win heaven ?
Happily we are not required to make such a
stupendous sacrifice, at least, not often. We are
only asked to cleanse our hands, and our hearts
THE CON\'EETS OF PATRICIUS. 235
also, from the impurity of sin. But it should he
recollected that He to Whom we are indebted for
these easy conditions of salvation, He Who made
the performance of our duty possible by His
promise to be with us always as a Saviour, gave
up for us something far more precious than a
hand, namely. His spotless. His Eoyal life.
^I^EILING bis might, a very man,
The Lord of life and death
Earned daily bread, an artisan,
Working at Nazareth.
So all the wisest, all the best
Have something they must do ;
And the commandment, " Thou sbalt rest,"
Saith "Thou sbalt labour" too.
236 CROES Y BRRILA.
^ Hast ILoolt at i^ton,
fHE limetrees full of blossoms, full of bees,
Shaded the walk, the long walk by the wall
At Eton, on Election Day ; and there
Beneath them, heeding only their sweet scent,
Which linked him with the past, an old man stood.
Then spake to him a Colleger, " Move on,
Master."
The grandsire of that flouting boy
Was once that old man's fag, he Master then !
Master in headlong rushes to get goals.
And master, too, when swimmers at the Oak
Took champion headers in the eddying Thames ;
Most Master, when before his blows went down,
In the School-yard, the Oppidan vanguard.
Now Master ! now a poor old wreck, by whom
" Master, move on," was language often heard ;
Heard now at Eton, that was hard to bear !
But he a stranger there, and all was strange —
Where the old faces ? Where those oaken beds
Which, clanged at midnight, made his Montem sure ?
A LAST LOOK AT ETON. 237
Where old Long Chamber ? "Where the huge boughs,
brought
From Buruham beeches ? At Election brought
To grace bare walls, when o'er the rugs were laid
The gay green coverlets.
All now was changed,
Save that remembered fragrance of the limes,
That self-same humming of the bees ! To these, his old,
His only friends, the old man bade farewell ;
Then o'er the wall he bent, sank down, and died.
A Vagrant, name unknown ! His record this
In Eton's Parish Eegister. The lists,
Which tell of matches won of old at Lord's,
Blazon his honoured name, as Captain starred.
Li those bright days no innings was ill-starred,
In after life there came the fagging out,
All catches missed, hard hits, by others scored,
High o'er his head his fag ! On higher heads,
Far higher, looking down !
Now both are dead.
Are both now equal ? No ! the sycophant
Great Mammon aids, rewarding him on earth ;
The Greater Master loves the brave wlio fail.
!38 CROKS Y BREILA.
^tjC jfUtlUT«
(2^
JT is impossible to foresee future events, and, as
a rule, it is the unexpected which happens.
There are, however, some changes so righteous and
so much needed, that one can scarcely believe
them to be far off. In the future, then, one would
think, the contributions for the promotion of the
Established religion will not be put to shame by
the generosity of Nonconformists to their respective
sects. But this will hardly be the case until a
Finance Committee exists in every Parish, which
bodies, by a series of elections, shall have annually
extracted a Select Committee privileged to act as
the Cabinet of the Bishop in all important matters,
and, especially, in the distribution of preferment.*
Some of this machinery already exists in the
Diocese of Lichfield, and the lamented death of
Bishop Selwyn alone prev,ented the adoption of
this plan in its completeness there, in accordance
with a resolution carried by the present writer
at an Archidiaconal Conference. This reform.
* Without this power Coufereuces are like the Institutions of Louia
Napoleon, unsubstantial and delusive.
THE FUTURE. 239
amongst other advantages, would tend to bring
forward those whose great merits are often
obscured by the still greater and rarer merit
of modesty, and who thus have little chance of
going up higher until the Great Day when some
who are now last will be first. *
Lonsf before that Assize comes, it will, we
may hope, be felt that it is a monstrous proceeding
to appoint an Incumbent to what is called a living,
and then to subject him to an income tax + under
the name of rates, amounting to something like
five shillings in the pound. But when this has
become a matter of astonishment, it will be still
more astounding to be informed that a British
Legislature, in the nineteenth century, when arrang-
ing for the future maintenance of roads then
dis-turnpiked, and Board Schools, recently invented,
distributed the fresh taxation on the same basis
of confiscation.
* Whether the Rector of Ingoldsby will live to see the Eevision
of the Liturgy is cloul)tful ; but some day or other the name of
Hildyard will be coupled with that of Pascal, and that of Moimt-
tield with Hooker.
t The continuance of this iniquitous tax, in spite of pledges to
repeal it, is a scandal. This subject has been treated iu " The
Coming Finance," by A Iviugsmau.
240 CROES Y BREILA.
The next reform to wliieh we may reasonably
look forward belongs to a region in which, as we
flatter ourselves, we have done marvels, namely,
Elementary Schools. We now reflect with satis-
faction that the State has assumed the power,
not only to turn all gutter children into every
Educational Establishment, national and denomina-
tional, but also to send to prison, as the last
resource, all, who, being poor, will not assist loyally
in carrying out this imperfect law. Of these
achievements we are proud, and if the penalties
are only used as notices of man-traps and spring
guns, they may do some good. But if they are
allowed to go otf, they will soon be effectually
exploded. And some day the State, itself advancing
in knowledge, will perceive that man cannot
thrive on the R. R. R., &>c. alone, either in peace
or war. Moreover it will see, that this country,
having engaged, by the Poor Law, to keep everyone
from starvation, has a legitimate right to take care
that none are idle or incompetent, and, at the same
time, free citizens. It will, therefore, establish at
its own cost, and in all directions, schools of an
industrial nature. In these, all will be encouraged,
but none forced, under money penalties or prison,
THE FUTURE. 241
to learn. The screw used will be of a different
sort. For everyone in the kingdom, both male and
female, having attained the age of twelve years,
would, under this new regime, be obliged to submit
to an examination at some convenient centre.
Tliere, both head-work and handiwork would be
tested. To those who then obtained a certificate
all the advantages of Englishmen would be open.
To those who did not pass in those tibials, this
would happen : — The fathers or guardians would
be told that, unless a pass was obtained in
the following year, or a medical certificate
produced, that sentence of outlawry would be
pronounced both on themselves and on their in-
competent children, which would already have
reached those who had contumaciously failed to
present themselves at the appointed place and
time. The outlawry would consist in a deprivation
of all votes, an inability to inherit property, and
also, to be a plaintiff in any court. This sentence
would be removed in the case of the child by his
passing in a higher standard, and that success
would also emancipate the parent or guardian.
But, failing to be absolved in this way, the respon-
17
242 CROES Y BEEILA.
sible persons would not obtain a reversion of tliat
sentence except by the payment of a tine, varying
according to the circumstances, but in all cases
heavy. When this reform is in full operation, many
people will learn, for the first time, tliat the
advantages which a free and inlawed citizen of
England enjoys, unconsciously, and, therefore, often
ungratefully, are very considerable.
But the greatest improvement which the future
has in store for us is, let us hope, the abolition
both of intoxication and of drunkenness, which
terms, although often confounded, represent two
very different things. The former will have yielded
to strinofent regulations in reference to all adultera-
tion. For to be intoxicated is to be drugged, and
this has crushed many an innocent carter under
the wheels of his own dray, while the unscrupulous
and unsuspected poisoner has gone by in his
carriage. As for drunkenness, it will have been
extinguished by the same drastic process which
abolished duelling. That is to say, it will have
been treated not as a venial error to be expiated
amid the smiles of a bench made rich on brewing
and distilling, by the payment of a trifling fine,
but as a detestable, because a most demoralizing
THE FUTURE.
243
and dangerous crime. Consequently it will, in the
case both of principals and seconds, but of seconds
chiefly, be branded with imprisonment in its most
degrading shape. With these hopes for the future,
and with many still holier, the Author rings the
old year out and the new year in.
THE OLD YEAR OUT.
Toll for the past ! for moments
flown,
iVhich were, yet are no more,
our own,
^'^eglected warnings, mercies cast
Behind us ; — toll we for the past !
Toll for the past ! if want has
knelt,
Yet failed our selfish hearts to melt;
Or if with hatred we repKed,
When foes to win forgiveness
tried.
Toll for the past ! if chimes to
prayer
Invited, and we went not there;
(Jr if, when Jesu's feast was
spread.
We turned to seek the world's
instead.
THE NEW YEAR IX.
Ring in the future ! How the
Chimes
Tell of the better, happier times.
When Christ the Saviour shall
api^ear ;
So ring we in a glad New Year !
A glad New Year ! Yet it may
bring
Or want, or grief, or suffering ;
But these to Him should draw
us near ;
So ring we in a glad New Year
A glad New Year ! Yet ere
'tis fled.
We may be numbered with the
dead ;
But e'en in death love conquers
fear.
So ring we in a glad New Year !
244
CROES Y BUEII.A.
Toll for the i>ast ! not in despair, A glad New Year ! And yet it
l'\)r ]ierfect love shines even
tliere ;
Sliini's fur the livin;^ to the last ;
Tims hopeful toll we for the past!
may
See all creation pass away ;
But then the Saviour will appear,
So ring we in a glad New Year !
BEMIiOSK AND SONS, PKINTERS, LONDON AND DEKBY.
i
I
«
UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY
Los Angeles
This book is DUE on the last date stamped below.
Form L9-50j«-7,'54 (5990)444
•^■^ll^™
uc
SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACIUTV
AA 000 365 402 7
PR
h699
E82c
jy.