TALES OF THE HALL.

BOOK XII.

SIR OWEN DALE.

AGAIN the Brothers saw their friend the Priest, Who shared the comforts he so much increased; Absent of late-and thus the Squire address'd, With welcome smile, his ancient friend and guest.

"What has detain'd thee? some parochial case? "Some man's desertion, or some maid's disgrace? "Or wert thou call'd, as parish priest, to give "Name to a new-born thing that would not live, "That its weak glance upon the world had thrown, "And shrank in terror from the prospect shown? "Or hast thou heard some dying wretch deplore, "That of his pleasures he could taste no more?

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"Who wish'd thy aid his spirits to sustain, "And drive away the fears that gave him pain? "For priests are thought to have a patent charm "To ease the dying sinner of alarm :

"Or was thy business of the carnal sort,

"And thou wert gone a patron's smile to court, "And Croft or Creswell would'st to Binning add, "Or take, kind soul! whatever could be had? "Once more I guess: th' election now is near; "My friend, perhaps, is sway'd, by hope or fear, "And all a patriot's wishes, forth to ride, "And hunt for votes to prop the favʼrite side?”

"More private duty called me hence, to pay My friends respect on a rejoicing day," Replied the Rector: "there is born a son, "Pride of an ancient race, who pray'd for one, "And long desponded. Would you hear the tale"Ask, and 'tis granted-of Sir Owen Dale?"

"Grant," said the Brothers, "for we humbly ask "Ours be the gratitude, and thine the task: "Yet dine we first: then to this tale of thine, "As to thy sermon, seriously incline: "In neither case our rector shall complain, "Of this recited, that composed in vain.

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"Something we heard of vengeance, who appall'd, "Like an infernal spirit, him who call'd; "And, ere he vanish'd, would perform his part,

Inflicting tortures on the wounded heart; "Of this but little from report we know: "If you the progress of revenge can show,

"Give it, and all its horrors, if you please, "We hear our neighbour's sufferings much at ease.

"Is it not so? For do not men delight

"We call them men-our bruisers to excite,

"And urge with bribing gold, and feed them for the fight?

"Men beyond common strength, of giant size,

"And threat'ning terrors in each other's eyes;

"When in their naked, native force display'd, "Look answers look, affrighting and afraid; "While skill, like spurs and feeding, gives the arm "The wicked power to do the greater harm: "Maim'd in the strife, the falling man sustains "Th' insulting shout, that aggravates his pains:"Man can bear this; and shall thy hearers heed "A tale of human sufferings? Come! proceed."

Thus urged, the worthy Rector thought it meet
Some moral truth, as preface, to repeat;

Reflection serious,-common-place, 'tis true,-
But he would act as he was wont to do,
And bring his morals in his neighbour's view.

"O! how the passions, insolent and strong, "Bear our weak minds their rapid course along; "Make us the madness of their will obey; "Then die, and leave us to our griefs a prey!"

Sir Owen Dale his fortieth year had seen,
With temper placid, and with mind serene;
Rich; early married to an easy wife,
They led in comfort a domestic life:
He took of his affairs a prudent care,
And was by early habit led to spare;
Not as a miser, but in pure good taste,
That scorn'd the idle wantonness of waste.

In fact, the lessons he from prudence took
Were written in his mind, as in a book:
There what to do he read, and what to shun;
And all commanded was with promptness done:
He seem'd without a passion to proceed,
Or one whose passions no correction need;

Yet some believed those passions only slept,
And were in bounds by early habits kept:
Curb'd as they were by fetters worn so long,
There were who judged them a rebellious throng.

To these he stood, not as a hero true,

Who fought his foes, and in the combat slew,
But one who all those foes, when sleeping, found,
And, unresisted, at his pleasure bound.

We thought-for I was one-that we espied
Some indications strong of dormant pride;
It was his wish in peace with all to live;
And he could pardon, but could not forgive:
Nay, there were times when stern defiance shook
The moral man, and threaten'd in his look.

Should these fierce passions-so we reason'd-break
Their long-worn chain, what ravage will they make!
In vain will prudence then contend with pride,
And reason vainly bid revenge subside;
Anger will not to meek persuasion bend,

Nor to the pleas of hope or fear attend:
What curb shall, then, in their disorder'd race,
Check the wild passions? what the calm replace?
Virtue shall strive in vain; and has he help in grace?