Flowers laugh before thee on their beds And the most ancient heavens, through Thee, are fresh and strong. To humbler functions, awful Power! And in the light of truth thy Bondman let me live! 1805. XXI. CHARACTER OF THE HAPPY WARRIOR. [THE course of the great war with the French naturally fixed one's attention upon the military character, and, to the honour of our country, there were many illustrious instances of the qualities that constitute its highest excellence. Lord Nelson carried most of the virtues that the trials he was exposed to in his department of the service necessarily call forth and sustain, if they do not produce the contrary vices. But his public life was stained with one great crime, so that, though many passages of these lines were suggested by what was generally known as excellent in his conduct, I have not been able to connect his name with the poem as I could wish, or even to think of him with satisfaction in reference to the idea of what a warrior ought to be. For the sake of sud of my friends as may happen to read this note I will add, dat many elements of the character here pourtrayed werd boud in my brother John, who perished by shipwreck, asioned elsewhere. His messmates used to call him the Tai Ր pher, from which it must be inferred that the qua lities and dispositions I allude to had not escaped their notice. He often expressed his regret, after the war had continued some time, that he had not chosen the Naval, instead of the East India Company's, service, to which bis family connexion had led him. He greatly valued moral and religious instruc tion for youth, as tending to make good sailors. The best, he used to say, came from Scotland; the next to them, from the North of England, especially from Westmorland and Cumberland, where, thanks to the piety and local attachments of our ancestors, endowed, or, as they are commonly called, free, schools abound.] Who is the happy Warrior? W is he In face of these doth exercise a power So often that demand such sacrifice ; More skilful in self-knowledge, even more pure, As more exposed to suffering and distress; 'Tis he whose law is reason; who depends Whose powers shed round him in the common strife, Or mild concerns of ordinary life, A constant influence, a peculiar grace; But who, if he be called upon to face Some awful moment to which Heaven has joined With sudden brightness, like a Man inspired; Come when it will, is equal to the need : -He who, though thus endued as with a sense Is yet a Soul whose master-bias leans It is his darling passion to approve; More brave for this, that he hath much to love:- And, while the mortal mist is gathering, draws 1806. 237 XXII. THE FORCE OF PRAYER *; OR, THE FOUNDING OF BOLTON PRIORY. A TRADITION. [AN Appendage to the "White Doe." My friend, Mr. Rogers, has also written on the subject. The story is preserved in Dr. Whitaker's History of Craven-a topographical writer of first-rate merit in all that concerns the past; but such was his aversion from the modern spirit, as shown in the spread of manufactories in those districts of which he treats, that his readers are left entirely ignorant both of the progress of these arts and their real bearing upon the comfort, virtues, and happiness of the inhabitants. While wandering on foot through the fertile valleys and over the moorlands of the Apennine that divides Yorkshire from Lancashire, I used to be delighted with observing the number of substantial cottages that had sprung up on every side, each having its little plot of fertile ground won from the surrounding waste. A bright and warm fire, if needed, was always to be found in these dwellings. The father was at his loom; the children looked healthy and happy. Is it not to be feared that the increase of mechanic power has done away with many of these blessings, and substituted many evils? Alas! if those evils grow, how are they to be checked, and where is the remedy to be found? Political economy will not supply it; that is certain: we must look to something deeper, purer, and higher.] 44 What is good for a bootless bene ?” With these dark words begins my Tale; And their meaning is, whence can comfort spring When Prayer is of no avail ? * See the White Doe of Rylstone. |