Part 18 (1/2)
My dear Lord Bishop,--I have a strong suspicion that the inundation of the Nave at Rochester was a knavish conspiracy of the Tee-totallers to submerge the Cathedral during the absence of the Dean. The vergers have had Water-on-the-Brain, but Messrs. Bishop and Sons from London have a.s.sured Mr. Luard Selby that there is no organic disease.
I have regarded it as my duty, in antic.i.p.ation of your lords.h.i.+p's visit to North Wales on Wednesday next, to see that all due preparations are made to receive you. I have been to ----, and found that the new chancel is making satisfactory progress. The new altar frontal is beautiful, the tea and bread and b.u.t.ter at the Rectory are excellent, the roses in the garden are making extra efforts, the school-mistress is in good health, the mountains are drawn up in saluting order, the mines are smoking peacefully, there will be cold lamb at the luncheon, weather permitting, and all frivolous persons will be banished to England, including yours ever.
THE ANSWER OF LADY CLARA VERE DE VERE [Sidenote: _Henry S. Leigh_]
The Lady Clara V. de V.
Presents her very best regards To that misguided Alfred T.
(With one of her enamell'd cards).
Though uninclin'd to give offence, The Lady Clara begs to hint That Master Alfred's common sense Deserts him utterly in print.
The Lady Clara can but say, That always from the very first She snubb'd in her decisive way The hopes that silly Alfred nurs'd.
The fondest words that ever fell From Lady Clara, when they met, Were, ”How d'ye do? I hope you're well!”
Or else, ”The weather's very wet.”
Her Ladys.h.i.+p needs no advice How time and money should be spent, And can't pursue at any price The plan that Alfred T. has sent.
She does not in the least object To let the ”foolish yeoman” go, But wishes--let him recollect-- That he should move to Jericho.
THE WOODCRAFT OF JONSON [Sidenote: _Ben Johnson_]
Nothing is a courtesy unless it be meant us; and that friendly and lovingly. We owe no thanks to rivers, that they carry our boats; or winds, that they be favouring and fill our sails; or meats, that they be nouris.h.i.+ng; for these are what they are necessarily. Horses carry us, trees shade us, but they know it not. It is true, some men may receive a courtesy and not know it; but never any man received it from him that knew it not. Many men have been cured of diseases by accident; but they were not remedies. I myself have known one helped of an ague by falling into a water; another whipped out of a fever; but no man would ever use these for medicines. It is the mind, and not the event, that distinguisheth the courtesy from wrong. My adversary may offend the judge with his pride and impertinences, and I win my cause; but he meant it not to me as a courtesy. I 'scaped pirates by being s.h.i.+p-wracked; was the wrack a benefit therefore? No; the doing of courtesies aright is the mixing of the respects for his own sake and for mine. He that doeth them merely for his own sake is like one that feeds his cattle to sell them; he hath his horse well dressed for Smithfield.
[Sidenote: _Ben Johnson_]
Many might go to heaven with half the labour they go to h.e.l.l, if they would venture their industry the right way; but ”The devil take all!”
quoth he that was choked i' the mill-dam, with his four last words in his mouth.
[Sidenote: _Ben Johnson_]
A good man will avoid the spot of any sin. The very aspersion is grievous, which makes him choose his way in his life as he would in his journey. The ill man rides through all confidently; he is coated and booted for it. The oftener he offends, the more openly, and the fouler, the fitter in fas.h.i.+on. His modesty, like a riding-coat, the more it is worn is the less cared for. It is good enough for the dirt still, and the ways he travels in.
[Sidenote: _Ben Johnson_]
Money never made any man rich, but his mind. He that can order himself to the law of Nature is not only without the sense but the fear of poverty. O, but to strike blind the people with our wealth and pomp is the thing! What a wretchedness is this, to thrust all our riches outward, and be beggars within; to contemplate nothing but the little, vile, and sordid things of the world; not the great, n.o.ble, and precious! We serve our avarice, and, not content with the good of the earth that is offered us, we search and dig for the evil that is hidden. G.o.d offered us those things, and placed them at hand, and near us, that He knew were profitable for us, but the hurtful He laid deep and hid. Yet do we seek only the things whereby we may perish, and bring them forth, when G.o.d and Nature hath buried them. We covet superfluous things, when it were more honour for us if we could contemn necessary.
What need hath Nature of silver dishes, mult.i.tudes of waiters, delicate pages, perfumed napkins? She requires meat only, and hunger is not ambitious. Can we think no wealth enough but such a state for which a man may be brought into a praemunire, begged, proscribed, or poisoned? O!
if a man could restrain the fury of his gullet and groin, and think how many fires, how many kitchens, cooks, pastures, and ploughed lands; what orchards, stews, ponds and parks, coops and garners, he could spare; what velvets, tissues, embroideries, laces, he could lack; and then how short and uncertain his life is; he were in a better way to happiness than to live the emperor of these delights, and be the dictator of fas.h.i.+ons. But we make ourselves slaves to our pleasures, and we serve fame and ambition, which is an equal slavery.
[Sidenote: _Ben Johnson_]
I remember the players have often mentioned it as an honour to Shakespeare, that in his writing (whatsoever he penned) he never blotted out a line. My answer hath been, ”Would he had blotted out a thousand,”
which they thought a malevolent speech. I had not told posterity this but for their ignorance who chose that circ.u.mstance to commend their friend by wherein he most faulted; and to justify mine own candour, for I loved the man, and do honour his memory on this side idolatry as much as any. He was, indeed, honest, and of an open and free nature; had an excellent phantasy, brave notions, and gentle expressions, wherein he flowed with that facility that sometimes it was necessary he should be stopped. ”Sufflaminandus erat,” as Augustus said of Haterius. His wit was in his own power; would the rule of it had been so, too! Many times he fell into those things could not escape laughter, as when he said in the person of Caesar, one speaking to him, ”Caesar, thou dost me wrong.”
He replied, ”Caesar did never wrong but with just cause”; and such-like, which were ridiculous. But he redeemed his vices with his virtues. There was ever more in him to be praised than to be pardoned.