Nature, a mother kind alike to all, Still grants her bliss at labour's earnest call; And though the rocky-crested summits frown, But let us try these truths with closer eyes, Could Nature's bounty satisfy the breast, But towns unmann'd, and lords without a slave: Yet still the loss of wealth is here supplied Here may be seen, in bloodless pomp array'd, A mistress or a saint in every grove. By sports like these are all their cares beguiled, Now sinks at last, or feebly mans the soul; While low delights, succeeding fast behind, In happier meanness occupy the mind: As in those domes, where Cæsars once bore sway, My soul, turn from them, turn we to survey Yet still, even here, content can spread a charm, Sees no contiguous palace rear its head Thus every good his native wilds impart, Dear is that shed to which his soul conforms, If few their wants, their pleasures are but few; But not their joys alone thus coarsely flow: Through life's more cultured walks, and charm the way, To sport and flutter in a kinder sky. To kinder skies, where gentler manners reign, I turn; and France displays her bright domain. Have led their children through th mirthful maze, Here passes current; paid from hand to hand, And all are taught an avarice of praise; To men of other minds my fancy flies, And industry begets a love of gain. Hence all the good from opulence that springs, But view them closer, craft and fraud appear, At gold's superior charms all freedom flies, Stern o'er each bosom reason holds her state, By forms unfashion'd, fresh from Nature's hand, While even the peasant boasts these rights to scan, Thine, freedom, thine the blessings pictured here, Thine are those charms that dazzle and endear; Too bless'd indeed were such without alloy, But foster'd even by freedom, ills annoy; That independence Britons prize too high, Keeps man from man, and breaks the social tie; The self-dependent lordlings stand alone, All claims that bind and sweeten life unknown: Here by the bonds of nature feebly held, Minds combat minds, repelling and repelled. Ferments arise, imprisoned factions roar, Represt ambition struggles round her shore, Till overwrought, the general system feels Its motions stop, or frenzy fire the wheels. Nor this the worst. As nature's ties decay, As duty, love, and honour fail to sway, Fictitions bonds, the bonds of wealth and law, Still gather strength, and force unwilling awe. Hence all obedience bows to these alone, And talent sinks, and merit weeps unknown; Till time may come, when, stript of all her charms, The land of scholars, and the nurse of arms, Where noble stems transmit the patriot flame, Where kings have toiled, and poets wrote for fame, One sink of level avarice shall lie, And scholars, soldiers, kings, unhonoured die. Yet think not, thus when freedom's ills I state, By proud contempt or favour's fostering sun, That those who think must govern those that toil; O then how blind to all that truth requires, To call it freedom when themselves are free; Each wanton judge new penal statutes draw, Tear off reserve, and bare my swelling heart; I fly from petty tyrants to the throne. Yes, Brother, curse with me that baleful hour Even now, perhaps, as there some pilgrim strays Vain, very vain, my weary search to find 1 This line is said in Croker's Boswell to have been written by Dr. Johnson, as were also the last ten lines of the poem, with the exception of the last couplet but one. 2 Referring to the torture of a red hot iron crown fixed round the head of a rebel in Hungary. "HALF A LOAF IS BETTER THAN NO BREAD." In the ancient city of Dort, or Dordrecht, in South Holland, on the banks of a canal, dwelt, where his father and grandfather resided before him, Jan Dirk Peereboom. By trade he was a timber-merchant, and was the purchaser of large rafts which were brought down the Rhine for sale, and there broken up; and as there were many saw-mills in Dort, and ship-building forming a large branch of its industry, Jan Dirk Peereboom was a thriving man. He prided himself considerably in being an inhabitant of the same city which gave birth to Gerard Vessius and the brothers De Witt. But Jan Dirk Peereboom lacked somewhat of the usual Dutch prudence in his marriage, for instead of entering into the blessed state of wedlock with the daughter of a neighbouring merchant, where the interests of trade could have also been united, he made an alliance that much disturbed the consciences of his relatives, who were lineal descendants of those excellent and learned worthies who translated the Bible into the Dutch language, John Bogerman, William Baudart, and Gerson Bucer. The alliance into which Jan Dirk Peereboom entered was caused by the timbermerchant, when on a visit to Amsterdam, becoming fascinated with the charms of Madame Coralie Comifo, a principal danseuse of the theatre, and who was in high vogue at the period in the principal city of Holland. She was a widow; and the cause of her becoming so had created considerable interest amongst the frequenters of the opera; for Monsieur Comifo, getting rich and corpulent on an extravagant salary, was representing Zephyr in a newly imported ballet from Paris, and in which he had to fly lightly through the air; this aerial feat was to be accomplished by the means of wires which were affixed to a sort of pair of stays which were laced round the body of the fat Zephyr, and by which he was to be guided in various directions across the stage. But Monsieur Comifo forgetting his weight, and only thinking of his consequence, insisted on performing this principal part. He got safely through the rehearsals, but alas! on the first night of the representation, as he was most gracefully floating through the scenic air, the wires suddenly snapped, and, piteous to relate, down came Zephyr with such force, that he effectually made his way plump through the stage of the Amsterdam theatre, which, from the peculiar construction of that aquatic city, could not boast of the convenience of a mezzanità floor: so poor Monsieur Comifo unfortunately fell into the muddy water, on a level with the canals, and surrounded by the huge piles on which the edifice was erected. Before efficient aid could be obtained, for Dutch stage-carpenters are habitually slow, Zephyr was drowned. This proved a considerable damper to the performance of the evening; and some practical economists amongst the spectators, with a proper and exact feeling of commercial arrangement, went and demanded back the price of admission from the moneytaker, as the manager of the theatre had made a breach of his contract. This being refused, the proceeding opened the door to several petty lawsuits, and the case being a novel one, and quite without precedent, the aforesaid suits, which at first were so small that they would barely fit anybody, became gradually enlarged, until they completely enveloped the persons of the fattest and wealthiest burgomasters. We will not dwell on this painful subject, but skip over a six months' widowhood, when the still charming Madame Coralie was enabled again to skip over the stage with her customary grace and elasticity. It was about this time that Jan Dirk Peereboom arrived in Amsterdam on business, and having partaken of a plenteous dinner, and indulged in exciting potations, resolved to finish his day's amusement by a visit to the theatre. But oh! when he saw the celebrated Coralie voluptuously dressed-he stared-he was breathless-he fell over head and ears in love with her. The love of a Dutchman is not of so ardent a nature as his own Geneva; he usually takes it "cold without," but in the instance of Jan Dirk Peereboom it was like igniting a cask of spirits he was all in a blaze; he endeavoured to smoke off his passion, but in vain; the more pipes he smoked, the more enamoured he grew, he neglected all his timber concerns. "Adieu, for him, The dull engagements of the bustling world! Adien the sick impertinence of praise! And hope, and action! for with her alone, By streams and shades, to steal these sighing hours, Is all he asks, and all that Fate can give." We have quoted the above lines from Acheinside to give a proper notion of the condition of Jan Dirk Peereboom. The friends at Dort could not divine what had come to him, or what detained him so long at Amsterdam. Jan Dirk now thought, that as he had observed that perseverance and money can carry everything in the world before' give her private reasons for this measure, she them, that he would try their effect. He accordingly obtained an introduction to Madame Coralie Comifo, where he made himself as agreeable as he could, but that was not very sprightly; by his looks and manner he soon discovered to the cunning Frenchwoman that he was her devoted slave. She acted her part to admiration, giving him no encouragement, but at the same time, apparently unconsciously, displaying in a hundred little ways the charms that had captivated him. Jan Dirk could no longer endure to exist without the fair widow, so he abruptly told her the amount of his fortune, and that, if she refused to accept him for her mate, he would inevitably drown himself in the deepest and muddiest canal. Now Coralie had a tender heart: she had already lost one lover by drowning (poor Zephyr!), and she took into consideration that the property of Jan Dirk Peereboom was a very comfortable thing to retire upon, that dancing nightly was a great exertion, and that dancing cannot last for ever, though Holbein has endeavoured to perpetuate it in his painted moral "The Dance of Death;" she therefore implored time to consider. Jan Dirk was delighted, for he knew enough of the world to be aware, that if a female demands "time to consider," she has already fully made up her mind. It soon came to preliminaries. At the expiration of six months, the conclusion of Madame Coralie Comifo's theatrical engagement, she was to quit the stage, to be married to Jan Dirk Peereboom according to the rites of the Roman Catholic Church, as she professed that creed, and was very particular; as well as being also united to him in the Presbyterian form, in which Jan Dirk had been brought up; that her own property was to remain in her possession, and that she was to have the unlimited power of spending it as she pleased. The love of Jan Dirk Peereboom also occasioned him to give way to a most tyrannical requisition, which was no less than that he was to leave off smoking his pipe, as the smell of tobacco was offensive to the olfactory nerves of the fair widow. Coralie made also some other stipulations, which savoured more of a cautious engagement with a playhouse director than an agreeable understanding with a good-natured husband; but these occurred from habit, the lady in her day having always been in turmoil with her managers. Amongst the articles specified, her favourite poodle Mouton (almost as big as a sheep) was, if she required it, to travel with them; and although she did not condescend to had frequently found the great benefit of her large white, glossy, curled poodle being her compagnon du voyage. This will require a little explanation, but will simply solve itself thus. Madame Coralie, not being permanently attached to the Académie Royale at Paris, frequently visited the provincial theatres of France and the Continent generally. Now everybody who has travelled abroad is aware that there is not the same attention paid by landladies, and chambermaids, and garçons, to the airing of bed-sheets as is practised in England. Indeed, we have heard of the garcon sprinkling the bed-clothes with water in the interim between the departure of one nightly occupant and the arrival of another. Madame Coralie had undergone the usual result of this refreshing proceeding, and rheumatism was consequent; and as rheumatism is decidedly the worst disorder, and the most readily taken, that a public or private dancer can experience, she, with that ingenuity for which French women have always been admired, after dismissing the chambermaid or garçon, ordered Mouton to jump into the bed. The warm silken poodle was so thoroughly accustomed to this, that it became a matter of perfect habit, and if any damp was in the sheets or coverlets, Mouton extracted it unheeded and unhurt, rendering her beloved mistress perfectly safe from the ravages of cold or sciatica, and leaving a minor annoyance only, in the shape of that most active, industrious, and (as it has been proved in this enlightened age) intellectual animal, the Pulex irritans. The six months glided away, and Jan Dirk Peereboom, after having been kept in the state of misery so delightful to a lover, at length was united to the object of his passion. He had not dared to mention the matter to his grave friends at Dort. It could not be supposed that the descendants of the celebrated Synod, who were rigid Calvinists, would countenance a marriage with a French operadancer. Perfectly aware of this, Jan Dirk Peereboom, accompanied by Madame, went to Paris. With infinite astonishment Peter Bogerman, auctioneer and agent at Dort, received directions from Jan Dirk Peereboom to dispose of his house, timber-wharf, stock in trade, ships, barges, &c. &c. |