Farther I’d quote, but Scripture, iuterveningForbids. A great impression, in my youth^Vas made by Mrs. Adams, where she cries,
“ That Scriptures out qf church are blasphemies.” *
xcvn.
But what we can, we glean in this rile ageOf chaff, although our gleanings be not grist.
I must not quite omit the talking sage,
Kit-Cat, the famous conversationist,
Who, in his common-place book, had a pagePrepar’d each morn for evenings. “ List, oh!list!”
“Alas, poor ghost!”—What unexpected woesAwait those who have studied their bon-mots!
XCVIII.
Firstly, they must allure the conversation.
By many windings, to their clever clinch;
And, secondly, must let slip no occasion,
Nor bate (abate) their hearers of au inch,
But take an ell—and make a great sensation,
If possible; and, thirdly, never flinchWhen some smart talker puts them to the test,
But seize the last word, which no doubt's the best
xcix.
Lord Henry and his lady were the hosts:
The party we have touch’d on were the guests.Their table was a board to tempt even ghostsTo paBS the Styx for more substantial feasts.
I will not dwell upon ragodts or roasts,
Albeit all human history attestsThat happiness for man—the hungry sinner !—Since Eve ate apples, much depends on dinner.
c
Witness the lands which k flow d with milk andhoney.
Held out unto the hungry Israelites :
To this we have added, since the Jove of money,The only sort of pleasure which requites.
Youth fades, and leaves our days no longer sunny;
We tiro of mistresses and parasites;
But 0, ambrosial cash! Ah! who would losethee ?
When we no more can use, or even abuse, thee ?
cr.
The gentlemen got up betimes to shoot,
Or hunt: the young, because they lik'd thesport—
The first thing boys like, after play and fruit ■
The middle-ag'd, to make the day more short;
■ For ennui is a growth of English root,
Though nameless in our language!—we retortThe fact for words, and let the French translateThat awful yawn which sleep can not abate.
CII.
The elderly walk’d through the library,
And tumbled books, or criticis'd the pictures,
Or saunter’d through the gardens piteously,
And made upon the hot-house several strictures,Or rode a nag which trotted not too high,
Or on the morning papers read their lectures,
Or on the watch their longing eyes would fix,Longing, at sixty, for the hour of six.
cm.
But none were “ genethe great hour of unionWas wrung by dinner’s knell; till then all wereMasters of their own time—or in communion,
Or solitary, as they chose to bearThe hours, which how to pass is but to fewknown.
Each rose up at his own, and had to spareWhat time he chose for dress, and broke his fastWhen, where, and how, he chose for that repast.
CIV.
The ladies—some roug’d, some a little pale—
Met the morn as they might If fine, they rode.Or walk’d; if foul, they read, or told a tale,
Sung, or rehears’d the last dance from abroad;Discuss’d the fashion which might next prevail,And settled bonnets, by the newest code,
Or cramm’d twelve sheets into one little letter,
To make each correspondent a new debtor.
CV.
For some had absent lovers, all had friends.
The earth has nothing like a sbe-epistle,
And hardly heaven—because it never ends.
I love the mystery of a female missal,
"Which, like a creed, ne'er says all it intends,
But, full of cunning as Ulysses’ whistle.
When he allur'd poor Dolon you bad betterTake care what you reply to such a letter.
CVI.
Then there were billiards; cards, too, but ncdice;—
Save in the clubs, no man of honour playsBoats when ’twas water, skating when 'twas ice,And the hard frost destroyed the scenting days:And angling, too, that solitary vice,
Whatever Izaak Walton sings or says;
The quaint, old, cruel, coxcomb, in his gulletShould have a hook, and a small trout to pull i(.+
* “ Mrs. Adams answered Mr. Adams, that it was blasphemous to talk of scripture out of church.”This dogma was broached to her husband—the best Christian in any book.—See Joseph Andrews, iulatter chapters.
t It would have taught him humanity at least. This sentimental savage, whom it is a mode to quote(amongst the novelists) to show their sympathy for innocent sports and old songs, teaches how to sewU P frogs, and break their legs by way of experiment, in addition to the art of angling, the cruellest, thecoldest, and stupidest, of pretended sports. They may talk about the beauties of nature, but the anglerhierely thinks of his dish of fish; he has no leisure to take his eyes from off the streams, and a singletote is worth to him more than all the scenery around. Besides, some fish bite on a rainy day. The^nale, the shark and the tunny fishery have somewhat of noble and perilous in them; even net fishing,trawling, &c., are more humane and useful—but angling! No angler can be a good man.
“ One of the best men 1 ever knew;—as humane, delicate-minded, generous, and excellent a creaturea ® a Jiy in the world, was an angler: true, he angled with painted flies, and would have been incapable01 the extravagance ot 1. Walton.”
. r“ e atj ove addition was made by a friend in reading orer the MS .—“Audi alteram partem ."—I leavet to counterbalance my own observation.