Part 16 (2/2)
”Fathers should pity--but this old man shook His h.o.a.ry locks, and froze me by a look: Thrice when I struck them, through the water came A hollow groan, that weaken'd all my frame: 'Father!' said I, 'Have mercy:' he replied, I know not what--the angry spirit lied, - 'Didst thou not draw thy knife?' said he: --'Twas true, But I had pity and my arm withdrew: He cried for mercy, which I kindly gave, But he has no compa.s.sion in his grave.
”There were three places, where they ever rose, - The whole long river has not such as those - Places accursed, where, if a man remain, He'll see the things which strike him to the brain; And there they made me on my paddle lean, And look at them for hours;--accursed scene!
When they would glide to that smooth eddy-s.p.a.ce, Then bid me leap and join them in the place; And at my groans each little villain sprite Enjoy'd my pains and vanish'd in delight.
”In one fierce summer-day, when my poor brain Was burning hot, and cruel was my pain, Then came this father-foe, and there he stood With his two boys again upon the flood: There was more mischief in their eyes, more glee In their pale faces, when they glared at me: Still they did force me on the oar to rest, And when they saw me fainting and oppress'd, He with his hand, the old man, scoop'd the flood, And there came flame about him mix'd with blood; He bade me stoop and look upon the place, Then flung the hot-red liquor in my face; Burning it blazed, and then I roar'd for pain, I thought the demons would have turn'd my brain.
”Still there they stood, and forced me to behold A place of horrors--they can not be told - Where the flood open'd, there I heard the shriek Of tortured guilt--no earthly tongue can speak: 'All days alike! for ever!' did they say, 'And unremitted torments every day' - Yes, so they said”--But here he ceased and gazed On all around, affrighten'd and amazed; And still he tried to speak, and look'd in dread Of frighten'd females gathering round his bed; Then dropp'd exhausted, and appear'd at rest, Till the strong foe the vital powers possess'd; Then with an inward, broken voice he cried, ”Again they come!” and mutter'd as he died. {13}
LETTER XXIII.
Poena autem vehemens ac multo saevior illis, Quas et Caeditius gravis invenit aut Rhadamanthus, Nocte dieque suum gestare in pectore testem.
JUVENAL, Satire xiii.
. . . . Think my former state a happy dream, From which awaked, the truth of what we are Shows us but this,--I am sworn brother now To grim Necessity, and he and I Will keep a league till death.
SHAKESPEARE, Richard II.
PRISONS. {14}
The Mind of Man accommodates itself to all Situations; Prisons otherwise would be intolerable--Debtors: their different kinds: three particularly described; others more briefly--An arrested Prisoner: his Account of his Feelings and his Situation--The Alleviations of a Prison--Prisoners for Crimes--Two Condemned: a vindictive Female: a Highwayman--The Interval between Condemnation and Execution--His Feelings as the Time approaches--His Dream.
'TIS well--that Man to all the varying states Of good and ill his mind accommodates; He not alone progressive grief sustains, But soon submits to unexperienced pains: Change after change, all climes his body bears; His mind repeated shocks of changing cares: Faith and fair Virtue arm the n.o.bler breast; Hope and mere want of feeling aid the rest.
Or who could bear to lose the balmy air Of summer's breath, from all things fresh and fair, With all that man admires or loves below; All earth and water, wood and vale bestow, Where rosy pleasures smile, whence real blessings flow; With sight and sound of every kind that lives, And crowning all with joy that freedom gives?
Who could from these, in some unhappy day, Bear to be drawn by ruthless arms away, To the vile nuisance of a noisome room, Where only insolence and misery come?
(Save that the curious will by chance appear, Or some in pity drop a fruitless tear); To a damp Prison, where the very sight Of the warm sun is favour and not right; Where all we hear or see the feelings shock, The oath and groan, the fetter and the lock?
Who could bear this and live?--Oh! many a year All this is borne, and miseries more severe; And some there are, familiar with the scene, Who live in mirth, though few become serene.
Far as I might the inward man perceive, There was a constant effort--not to grieve: Not to despair, for better days would come, And the freed debtor smile again at home: Subdued his habits, he may peace regain, And bless the woes that were not sent in vain.
Thus might we cla.s.s the Debtors here confined, The more deceived, the more deceitful kind; Here are the guilty race, who mean to live On credit, that credulity will give; Who purchase, conscious they can never pay; Who know their fate, and traffic to betray; On whom no pity, fear, remorse, prevail.
Their aim a statute, their resource a jail; - These are the public spoilers we regard, No dun so harsh, no creditor so hard.
A second kind are they, who truly strive To keep their sinking credit long alive; Success, nay prudence, they may want, but yet They would be solvent, and deplore a debt; All means they use, to all expedients run, And are by slow, sad steps, at last undone: Justly, perhaps, you blame their want of skill, But mourn their feelings and absolve their will.
There is a Debtor, who his trifling all Spreads in a shop; it would not fill a stall: There at one window his temptation lays, And in new modes disposes and displays: Above the door you shall his name behold, And what he vends in ample letters told, The words 'Repository,' 'Warehouse,' all He uses to enlarge concerns so small: He to his goods a.s.signs some beauty's name, Then in her reign, and hopes they'll share her fame, And talks of credit, commerce, traffic, trade, As one important by their profit made; But who can paint the vacancy, the gloom, And spare dimensions of one backward room?
Wherein he dines, if so 'tis fit to speak Of one day's herring and the morrow's steak: An anchorite in diet, all his care Is to display his stock and vend his ware.
Long waiting hopeless, then he tries to meet A kinder fortune in a distant street; There he again displays, increasing yet Corroding sorrow and consuming debt: Alas! he wants the requisites to rise - The true connections, the availing ties: They who proceed on certainties advance, These are not times when men prevail by chance; But still he tries, till, after years of pain, He finds, with anguish, he has tried in vain.
Debtors are these on whom 'tis hard to press, 'Tis base, impolitic, and merciless.
To these we add a miscellaneous kind, By pleasure, pride, and indolence confined; Those whom no calls, no warnings could divert, The unexperienced, and the inexpert; The builder, idler, schemer, gamester, sot, - The follies different, but the same their lot; Victims of horses, la.s.ses, drinking, dice, Of every pa.s.sion, humour, whim, and vice.
See! that sad Merchant, who but yesterday Had a vast household in command and pay; He now entreats permission to employ A boy he needs, and then entreats the boy.
And there sits one improvident but kind, Bound for a friend, whom honour could not bind; Sighing, he speaks to any who appear, ”A treach'rous friend--'twas that which sent me here: I was too kind,--I thought I could depend On his bare word--he was a treach'rous friend.”
A Female too!--it is to her a home, She came before--and she again will come: Her friends have pity; when their anger drops, They take her home;--she's tried her schools and shops - Plan after plan;--but fortune would not mend, She to herself was still the treach'rous friend; And wheresoe'er began, all here was sure to end: And there she sits, as thoughtless and as gay As if she'd means, or not a debt to pay - Or knew to-morrow she'd be call'd away - Or felt a s.h.i.+lling and could dine to-day.
While thus observing, I began to trace The sober'd features of a well-known face - Looks once familiar, manners form'd to please, And all illumined by a heart at ease: But fraud and flattery ever claim'd a part (Still unresisted) of that easy heart; But he at length beholds me--”Ah! my friend!
”And have thy pleasures this unlucky end?”
”Too sure,” he said, and smiling as he sigh'd; ”I went astray, though Prudence seem'd my guide; All she proposed I in my heart approved, And she was honour'd, but my pleasure loved - Pleasure, the mistress to whose arms I fled, From wife-like lectures angry Prudence read.
”Why speak the madness of a life like mine, The powers of beauty, novelty, and wine?
Why paint the wanton smile, the venal vow, Or friends whose worth I can appreciate now; Oft I perceived my fate, and then could say, I'll think to-morrow, I must live to-day: So am I here--I own the laws are just - And here, where thought is painful, think I must: But speech is pleasant; this discourse with thee Brings to my mind the sweets of liberty, Breaks on the sameness of the place, and gives The doubtful heart conviction that it lives.
”Let me describe my anguish in the hour When law detain'd me and I felt its power.
”When, in that s.h.i.+pwreck, this I found my sh.o.r.e, And join'd the wretched, who were wreck'd before; When I perceived each feature in the face, Pinch'd through neglect or turbid by disgrace; When in these wasting forms affliction stood In my afiiicted view, it chill'd my blood; - And forth I rush'd, a quick retreat to make, Till a loud laugh proclaim'd the dire mistake: But when the groan had settled to a sigh, When gloom became familiar to the eye, When I perceive how others seem to rest, With every evil rankling in my breast, - Led by example, I put on the man, Sing off my sighs, and trifle as I can.
”Homer! nay Pope! (for never will I seek Applause for learning--nought have I with Greek) Gives us the secrets of his pagan h.e.l.l, Where ghost with ghost in sad communion dwell; Where shade meets shade, and round the gloomy meads They glide, and speak of old heroic deeds, - What fields they conquer'd, and what foes they slew, And sent to join the melancholy crew.
When a new spirit in that world was found, A thousand shadowy forms came flitting round: Those who had known him, fond inquiries made, - 'Of all we left, inform us, gentle shade, Now as we lead thee in our realms to dwell, Our twilight groves, and meads of asphodel.'
”What paints the poet, is our station here, Where we like ghosts and flitting shades appear: This is the h.e.l.l he sings, and here we meet, And former deeds to new-made friends repeat; Heroic deeds, which here obtain us fame, And are in fact the causes why we came: Yes! this dim region is old Homer's h.e.l.l, Abate but groves and meads of asphodel.
Here, when a stranger from your world we spy, We gather round him and for news apply; He hears unheeding, nor can speech endure, But s.h.i.+vering gazes on the vast obscure: We smiling pity, and by kindness show We felt his feelings and his terrors know; Then speak of comfort--time will give him sight, Where now 'tis dark; where now 'tis woe--delight.
'Have hope,' we say, 'and soon the place to thee Shall not a prison but a castle be: When to the wretch whom care and guilt confound, The world's a prison, with a wider bound; Go where he may, he feels himself confined, And wears the fetters of an abject mind.'
”But now adieu! those giant-keys appear, Thou art not worthy to be inmate here: Go to thy world, and to the young declare What we, our spirits and employments, are; Tell them how we the ills of life endure, Our empire stable, and our state secure; Our dress, our diet, for their use describe, And bid them haste to join the gen'rous tribe: Go to thy world, and leave us here to dwell, Who to its joys and comforts bid farewell.”
Farewell to these; but other scenes I view, And other griefs, and guilt of deeper hue; Where Conscience gives to outward ills her pain, Gloom to the night, and pressure to the chain: Here separate cells awhile in misery keep Two doom'd to suffer: there they strive for sleep; By day indulged, in larger s.p.a.ce they range, Their bondage certain, but their bounds have change.
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