Chapter 5

Gladness to spread, and raise the grateful smile, He hurls the faggot bursting from the pile, And many a log and rifted trunk conveys, To heap the fire, and to extend the blaze That quiv'ring strong through every opening flies, Whilst smoaky columns unobstructed rise. For the rude architect, unknown to fame, (Nor symmetry nor elegance his aim) Who spread his floors of solid oak on high, On beams rough-hewn, from age to age that lie, Bade his _wide Fabric_ unimpair'd sustain _Pomona's_ store, and cheese, and golden grain; Bade from its central base, capacious laid, The well-wrought chimney rear its lofty head; Where since hath many a savoury ham been stor'd, And tempests howl'd, and Christmas gambols roar'd.

FLAT on the _hearth_ the glowing embers lie, And flames reflected dance in every eye: There the long billet, forc'd at last to bend, While frothing sap gushes at either end, Throws round its welcome heat:... the ploughman smiles, And oft the joke runs hard on sheepish _Giles_, Who sits joint tenant of the corner-stool, The converse sharing, though in duty's school; For now attentively 'tis his to hear Interrogations from the Master's chair.

'LEFT ye your bleating charge, when daylight fled, 'Near where the hay-stack lifts its snowy head? 'Whose fence of bushy furze, so close and warm, 'May stop the slanting bullets of the storm. 'For, hark! it blows; a dark and dismal night: 'Heaven guide the traveller's fearful steps aright! 'Now from the woods, mistrustful and sharp-ey'd, 'The _Fox_ in silent darkness seems to glide, 'Stealing around us, list'ning as he goes, 'If chance the Cock or stamm'ring cockerel crows, 'Or Goose, or nodding Duck, should darkling cry, 'As if appriz'd of lurking danger nigh: 'Destruction waits them, _Giles_, if e'er you fail 'To bolt their doors against the driving gale. 'Strew'd you (still mindful of the unshelter'd head) 'Burdens of straw, the cattle's welcome bed? 'Thine heart should feel, what thou may'st hourly see, '_That duty's basis is humanity._ 'Of pain's unsavoury cup tho' thou may'st taste, '(The wrath of Winter from the bleak north-east,) 'Thine utmost suff'rings in the coldest day 'A period terminates, and joys repay. 'Perhaps e'en now, while here those joys we boast, 'Full many a bark rides down the neighb'ring coast, 'Where the high northern waves tremendous roar, 'Drove down by blasts from _Norway's_ icy shore. 'The _Sea-boy_ there, less fortunate than thou, 'Feels all thy pains in all the gusts that blow; 'His freezing hands now drench'd, now dry, by turns; 'Now lost, now seen, the distant light that burns, 'On some tall cliff uprais'd, a flaming guide, 'That throws its friendly radiance o'er the tide. 'His labours cease not with declining day, 'But toils and perils mark his watry way; 'And whilst in peaceful dreams secure _we_ lie, 'The ruthless whirlwinds rage along the sky, 'Round his head whistling;... and shall thou repine, 'While this protecting roof still shelters thine?'

Mild, as the vernal show'r, his words prevail, And aid the moral precept of his tale: His wond'ring hearers learn, and ever keep These first ideas of the restless deep; And, as the opening mind a circuit tries, Present felicities in value rise. Increasing pleasures every hour they find, The warmth more precious, and the shelter kind; Warmth that long reigning bids the eyelids close, As through the blood its balmy influence goes, When the cheer'd heart forgets fatigues and cares, And drowsiness alone dominion bears.

Sweet then the ploughman's slumbers, hale and young, When the last topic dies upon his tongue; Sweet then the bliss his transient dreams inspire, Till chilblains wake him, or the snapping fire:

He starts, and ever thoughtful of his team, Along the glitt'ring snow a feeble gleam Shoots from his lantern, as he yawning goes To add fresh comforts to their night's repose; Diffusing fragrance as their food he moves And pats the jolly sides of those he loves. Thus full replenish'd, perfect ease possest, From night till morn alternate food and rest, No rightful cheer withheld, no sleep debar'd, Their each day's labour brings its sure reward. Yet when from plough or lumb'ring cart set free, They taste awhile the sweets of liberty: E'en sober _Dobbin_ lifts his clumsy heels And kicks, disdainful of the dirty wheels; But soon, his frolic ended, yields again To trudge the road, and wear the clinking chain.

Short-sighted DOBBIN!... thou canst only see The trivial hardships that _encompass_ thee: Thy chains were freedom, and thy toils repose, Could the poor _post-horse_ tell thee all his woes; Shew thee his bleeding shoulders, and unfold The dreadful anguish he endures for gold: Hir'd at each call of business, lust, or rage, That prompt the trav'eller on from stage to stage. Still on _his_ strength depends their boasted speed; For them his limbs grow weak, his bare ribs bleed; And though he groaning quickens at command, Their extra shilling in the rider's hand Becomes his bitter scourge:... 'tis _he_ must feel The double efforts of the lash and steel; Till when, up hill, the destin'd inn he gains, And trembling under complicated pains, Prone from his nostrils, darting on the ground, His breath emitted floats in clouds around: Drops chase each other down his chest and sides, And spatter'd mud his native colour hides: Thro' his swoln veins the boiling torrent flows, And every nerve a separate torture knows. His harness loos'd, he welcomes eager-eyed The pail's full draught that quivers by his side; And joys to see the well-known stable door, As the starv'd mariner the friendly shore.

Ah, well for him if here his suff'rings ceas'd, And ample hours of rest his pains appeas'd! But rous'd again, and sternly bade to rise, And shake refreshing slumber from his eyes, Ere his exhausted spirits can return, Or through his frame reviving ardour burn, Come forth he must, tho' limping, maim'd, and sore; He hears the whip; the chaise is at the door:... The collar tightens, and again he feels His half-heal'd wounds inflam'd; again the wheels With tiresome sameness in his ears resound, O'er blinding dust, or miles of flinty ground. Thus nightly robb'd, and injur'd day by day, His piece-meal murd'rers wear his life away.

What say'st thou, _Dobbin?_ what though hounds await With open jaws the moment of thy fate, No better fate attends _his_ public race; His life is misery, and his end disgrace. Then freely bear thy burden to the mill; Obey but one short law,... thy driver's will. Affection, to thy memory ever true, Shall boast of mighty loads that _Dobbin_ drew; And back to childhood shall the mind with pride Recount thy gentleness in many a ride To pond, or field, or village fair, when thou Held'st high thy braided mane and comely brow; And oft the Tale shall rise to homely fame Upon thy gen'rous spirit and thy name.

Though faithful to a proverb, we regard The midnight chieftain of the farmer's yard, Beneath whose guardianship all hearts rejoice, Woke by the echo of his hollow voice; Yet as the Hound may fault'ring quit the pack, Snuff the foul scent, and hasten yelping back; And e'en the docile Pointer know disgrace, Thwarting the gen'ral instinct of his race; E'en so the MASTIFF, or the meaner Cur, At times will from the path of duty err, (A pattern of fidelity by day; By night a _murderer_, lurking for his prey); And round the pastures or the fold will creep, And, coward-like, attack the peaceful _sheep_: Alone the wanton mischief he pursues, Alone in reeking blood his jaws imbrues; Chasing amain his fright'ned victims round, Till death in wild confusion strews the ground; Then wearied out, to kennel sneaks away, And licks his guilty paws till break of day.

The deed discover'd, and the news once spread, Vengeance hangs o'er the unknown culprit's head: And careful _Shepherds_ extra hours bestow In patient _watchings_ for the common foe; A foe most dreaded now, when rest and peace Should wait the season of the flock's increase.

In part these nightly terrors to dispel, GILES, ere he sleeps, his little Flock must tell. From the fire-side with many a shrug he hies, Glad if the full-orb'd Moon salute his eyes, And through the unbroken stillness of the night Shed on his path her beams of cheering light. With saunt'ring step he climbs the distant stile, Whilst all around him wears a placid smile; There views the white-rob'd clouds in clusters driv'n, And all the glorious pageantry of heav'n. Low, on the utmost bound'ry of the sight, The rising vapours catch the silver light; Thence Fancy measures, as they parting fly, Which first will throw its shadow on the eye, Passing the source of light; and thence away, Succeeded quick by brighter still than they. For yet above these wafted clouds are seen (In a remoter sky, still more serene,) Others, detach'd in ranges through the air, Spotless as snow, and countless as they're fair; Scatter'd immensely wide from east to west, The beauteous 'semblance of a _Flock_ at rest. These, to the raptur'd mind, aloud proclaim Their MIGHTY SHEPHERD'S everlasting Name.

Whilst thus the loit'rer's utmost stretch of soul Climbs the still clouds, or passes those that roll, And loos'd _Imagination_ soaring goes High o'er his home, and all his little woes, TIME glides away; neglected Duty calls: At once from plains of light to earth he falls, And down a narrow lane, well known by day, With all his speed pursues his sounding way, In thought still half absorb'd, and chill'd with cold; When, lo! an object frightful to behold; A grisly SPECTRE, cloth'd in silver-gray, Around whose feet the waving shadows play, Stands in his path!... He stops, and not a breath Heaves from his heart, that sinks almost to death. Loud the owl halloos o'er his head unseen; All else is silent, dismally serene: Some prompt ejaculation, whisper'd low, Yet bears him up against the threat'ning foe; And thus poor Giles, though half inclin'd to fly, Mutters his doubts, and strains his stedfast eye. ''Tis not my crimes thou com'st here to reprove; 'No murders stain my soul, no perjur'd love: 'If thou'rt indeed what here thou seem'st to be, 'Thy dreadful mission cannot reach to me. 'By parents taught still to mistrust mine eyes, 'Still to approach each object of surprise 'Lest Fancy's formful visions should deceive 'In moon-light paths, or glooms of falling eve, 'This then's the moment when my heart should try 'To scan thy motionless deformity; 'But oh, the fearful task! yet well I know 'An aged ash, with many a spreading bough, '(Beneath whose leaves I've found a Summer's bow'r, 'Beneath whose trunk I've weather'd many a show'r,) 'Stands singly down this solitary way, 'But far beyond where now my footsteps stay. 'Tis true, thus far I've come with heedless haste; 'No reck'ning kept, no passing objects trac'd:... 'And can I then have reach'd that very tree? 'Or is its reverend form assum'd by thee?' The happy thought alleviates his pain: He creeps another step; then stops again; Till slowly, as his noiseless feet draw near, Its perfect lineaments at once appear; Its crown of shiv'ring ivy whispering peace, And its white bark that fronts the moon's pale face. Now, whilst his blood mounts upward, now he knows The solid gain that from conviction flows; And strengthen'd Confidence shall hence fulfill (With conscious Innocence more valued still) The dreariest task that winter nights can bring, By church-yard dark, or grove, or fairy ring; Still buoying up the timid mind of youth, Till loit'ring Reason hoists the scale of Truth. With these blest guardians _Giles_ his course pursues, Till numbering his heavy-sided ewes, Surrounding stillness tranquilize his breast, And shape the dreams that wait his hours of rest.

As when retreating tempests we behold, Whose skirts at length the azure sky unfold, And full of murmurings and mingled wrath, Slowly unshroud the smiling face of earth, Bringing the bosom joy: so WINTER flies!... And see the Source of Life and Light uprise! A height'ning arch o'er southern hills he bends; Warm on the cheek the slanting beam descends, And gives the reeking mead a brighter hue, And draws the modest _primrose_ bud to view. Yet frosts succeed, and winds impetuous rush, And hail-storms rattle thro' the budding bush; And night-fall'n LAMBS require the shepherd's care, And teeming EWES, that still their burdens bear; Beneath whose sides tomorrow's dawn may see The milk-white strangers bow the trembling knee; At whose first birth the pow'rful instinct's seen That fills with champions the daisied green: For ewes that stood aloof with fearful eye, With stamping foot now men and dogs defy, And obstinately faithful to their young, Guard their first steps to join the bleating throng.

But casualties and death from damps and cold Will still attend the well-conducted fold: Her tender offspring dead, the dam aloud Calls, and runs wild amidst the unconscious crowd: And orphan'd sucklings raise the piteous cry; No wool to warm them, no defenders nigh. And must her streaming milk then flow in vain? Must unregarded innocence complain? No;... ere this strong solicitude subside, Maternal fondness may be fresh apply'd, And the adopted stripling still may find A parent most assiduously kind. For this he's doom'd awhile disguis'd to range, (For fraud or force must work the wish'd-for change;) For this his predecessor's skin he wears, Till cheated into tenderness and cares, The unsuspecting dam, contented grown, Cherish and guard the fondling as her own.

Thus all by turns to fair perfection rise; Thus twins are parted to increase their size: Thus instinct yields as interest points the way, Till the bright flock, augmenting every day, On sunny hills and vales of springing flow'rs With ceaseless clamour greet the vernal hours.

The humbler _Shepherd_ here with joy beholds The approv'd economy of crowded folds, And, in his small contracted round of cares, Adjusts the practice of each hint he hears: For Boys with emulation learn to glow, And boast their pastures, and their healthful show Of well-grown Lambs, the glory of the Spring; And field to field in competition bring.

E'en GILES, for all his cares and watchings past, And all his contests with the wintry blast, Claims a full share of that sweet praise bestow'd By gazing neighbours, when along the road, Or village green, his curly-coated throng Suspends the chorus of the spinner's song; When Admiration's unaffected grace Lisps from the tongue, and beams in every face: Delightful moments!... Sunshine, Health, and Joy, Play round, and cheer the elevated Boy! '_Another_ SPRING!' his heart exulting cries; '_Another_ YEAR! with promis'd blessings rise!... 'ETERNAL POWER! from whom those blessings flow, 'Teach me still more to wonder, more to know: '_Seed-time_ and _Harvest_ let me see again; 'Wander the _leaf-strewn_ wood, _frozen_ plain: 'Let the first Flower, corn-waving Field, Plain, Tree, 'Here round my home, still lift my soul to THEE; 'And let me ever, midst thy bounties, raise 'An humble note of thankfulness and praise!'--

APRIL 22, 1798.

NOTES

_A fav'rite morsel with the Rook, &c._ P. 9, l. 104.

In these verses, which have much of picturesque, there is a severe charge against _Rooks and Crows_, as very formidable depredators; and their destruction, as such, seems to be recommended. Such was the prevalent opinion some years back. It is less general now: and I am sure the humanity of the Author, and his benevolence to Animals in general, will dispose him to rejoice in whatever plea can be offered in stay of execution of this sentence. And yet more so, if it shall appear that ROOKS, at least, deserve not only mercy, but _protection_ and _encouragement_ from the Farmer.

I shall quote a passage from BEWICK'S interesting HISTORY of BIRDS: the narrative part of which is often as full of information as the embellishments cut in wood are beautiful.... It is this.

Speaking of Birds of the PIE-KIND in general, he says "Birds of this kind [Footnote: P. 63] are found in every part of the known world, from Greenland to the Cape of Good Hope. In many respects they may be said to be of singular benefit to mankind: principally by destroying great quantities of noxious insects, worms, and reptiles. ROOKS, in particular, are fond of the erucae of the _hedge-chaffer_, or chesnut _brown beetle_: for which they search with indefatigable pains. These insects," he adds in a note, "appear in hot weather in formidable numbers: disrobing the fields and trees of their verdure, blossoms, and fruit; spreading desolation and destruction wherever they go.... They appeared in great numbers in IRELAND during a hot summer, and committed great ravages. In the year 1747 whole meadows and corn-fields were destroyed by them in SUFFOLK. The decrease of Rookeries in that County was thought to be the occasion of it. The many Rookeries with us is in some measure the reason why we have so few of these destructive animals."[Footnote: Wallis's History of Northumberland.]

"Rooks," he subjoins, "are often accus'd of feeding on the corn just after it has been sown, and various contrivances have been made both to kill and frighten them away; but, in our estimation, the advantages deriv'd from the destruction which they make among grubs, earth-worms, and noxious insects of various kinds, will greatly overpay the injury done to the future harvest by the small quantity of corn they may destroy in searching after their favourite food." [Footnote: Mr. Bewick does not seem to have been quite aware that much of this mischief, as I have been informed by a sensible neighboring Farmer and Tenant, is done in the grub-state of the chaffer by biting through the _roots_ of grass, &c. A latent, and imperceptibly, but rapidly spreading mischief, against which the _rooks_ and birds of similar instinct are, in a manner, the sole protection. C. L.]

"In general they are sagacious, active, and faithful to each other. They live in pairs; and their mutual attachment is constant. They are a clamorous race: mostly build in trees, and form a kind of society in which there appears something like a regular government. A Centinel watches for the general safety, and gives notice on the appearance of danger."

Under the Title, "ROOKS," (p. 71) Mr. BEWICK repeats his observations on the useful property of this Bird.

I confess myself solicitous for their safety and kind treatment. We have two which were lam'd by being blown down in a storm (a calamity which destroys great numbers almost every spring). One of them is perfectly domesticated. The other is yet more remarkable; since although enjoying his natural liberty completely, he recognizes, even in his flights at a distance from the house, his adoptive home, his human friends, and early protectors.

The ROOK is certainly a very beautiful and very sensible Bird; very confiding, and very much attach'd. It will give me a pleasure, in which I doubt not that the Author of this delightful Poem will partake, if any thing here said shall avail them with the Farmer; and especially with the SUFFOLK FARMER.

C. L.

_Destroys life's intercourse; the social plan._ P. 46, l. 341.

"Allowing for the imperfect state of sublunary happiness, which is comparative at best, there are not, perhaps, many nations existing whose situation is so desirable; where the means of subsistence are so easy, and the wants of the people so few. The evident distinction of ranks, which subsists at _Otaheite_, does not so materially affect the felicity of the nation as we might have supposed. The simplicity of their whole life contributes to soften the appearance of distinctions, and to reduce them to a level. Where the climate and the custom of the country do not absolutely require a perfec: garment; where it is easy at every step to gather as many plants as form not only a decent, but likewise a customary covering; and where all the necessaries of life are within the reach of every individual, at the expence of a trifling labour; ambition and envy must in a great measure be unknown. It is true, the highest classes of people possess some dainty articles, such as pork, fish, fowl, and cloth, almost exclusively; but the desire of indulging the appetite in a few trifling luxuries can at most render individuals, and not whole nations, unhappy. Absolute want occasions the miseries of the lower class in some civiliz'd states, and is the result of the unbounded voluptuousness of their superiors. At _Otaheite_ there is not, in general, that disparity between the highest and the meanest man, that subsists in England between a reputable tradesman and a labourer. The affection of the Otaheitans for their chiefs, which they never fail'd to express upon all occasions, gave us great reason to suppose that they consider themselves as one family, and respect their eldest borm in the persons of their chiefs. The lowest man in the nation speaks as freely with his king as with his equal, and has the pleasure of seeing him as often as he likes. The king, at times, amuses himself with the occupations of his subjects; and not yet deprav'd by false notions of empty state, he often paddles his own canoe, without considering such an employment derogatory to his dignity. How long such an happy equality may last is uncertain: and how much the introduction of foreign luxuries may hasten its dissolution cannot be too frequently repeated to Europeans. If the knowledge of a few individuals can only be acquired at such a price as the happiness of nations, it were better for the discoverers and the discovered that the _South Sea_ had still remain'd unknown to _Europe_ and its restless inhabitants."

REFLECTIONS ON OTAHEITE: Cook's second Voyage.

APPENDIX