BOOK III.
THE ARGUMENT.—Holidays: the Schoolboy's anticipations in regard to them. Improper use made of such times by some Apprentices. Evil consequences of their conduct. An appeal to them on the subject. The sad tale of young DAYCOURT. Address to Liquor: its evils. WILLIAM'S holiday rambles. Father's birth-place. Tragic scene there. Farleton Knot. Glance back to Grandfather, etc. Joins Temperance movement. Visit of a man from Canada. His account of the country. Its consequences. WILLIAM'S taste in books. Rural rambles on business. Reflections on cruelty to animals. Retrospective glance. Conclusion.
Hail, Holidays! To you, with great delight,
The schoolboy looks—exulting with his might
At the fair prospect of enjoying play,
Or visiting relations far away.
Ere your propitious dawn he lays his schemes,
And pleased, rejoices in his bright day dreams.
He, in anticipation, views the charm
Of being for days exempt from birchen harm!
When, free from tasks—nor caring much for books—
With some companion he can fish the brooks;
Can ramble through the woods for flowers or nuts,
Play with fair girls who live in sylvan huts,
Mount with agility some green hill top,
And, with a mate, roll full length down the slope;
Or take his fill from loaded bramble bushes,
Or from rich fruit bedecked in Autumn's blushes.
Such is the bliss that's placed before his view,
In all its fulness, Holidays! by you.
And thus, without a single shade of sorrow,
He greets his mates with "Holiday to-morrow!"
These pleasures seem unto his boyish mind
Of the right sort—and for schoolboys designed.
He seldom thinks of all the anxious care
His parents feel, to give their son a share
Of useful learning, that he may discharge
His part to God, to them, and men at large.
Apprentices as well with pleasure hail
Their holidays—O, may they never fail!
These are too often spent in idleness,
Or such sad courses as brings them distress.
This is the case when grog-shops they frequent;
For ruin follows time and means ill spent.
Pause, O, ye youths! before you yet begin
A course that may lead you to every sin!
Restrain your feet from entering those holes
Which prove the ruin of so many souls.
Would ye not pause, if right across your path
There lay a monstrous serpent, full of wrath?
Would we, fool-hardy, rush into his jaws
To certain death? or would ye rather pause?
Youths, ye have cause, yea, weighty cause, to dread
This horrid serpent, on strong liquor fed,
Which lurks in every place where Rum is sold,
Though they may be all covered o'er with gold—
They often are; nor deem it hard of faith—
The way to present and eternal death!
God does by His most holy Book declare,
"Into God's kingdom none shall enter there,
Who liquor drink till drunkards they become!"
Yet, day by day, some meet this awful doom.
Oh, warning take! Flee from this dreadful crime!
Pause and consider, while you yet have time!
Listen the story which to you I tell;
Dwell on its moral—mark the sequel well;
Then look abroad, and see its counterpart
In many a case that shows a broken heart.
DAYCOURT was a youth, possessed of wealth—
Had manly beauty and the best of health;
In learning he excelled—was quite a wit—
And oft indulged in a deep musing fit.
Of very warm and truly tender heart,
He did his best to act a proper part;
Which made him much respected all around—
Against him, filled with envy, none were found.
His widowed mother, then, might well be proud
Of such a son, and speak his praises loud.
He bore for her respect, and strove to prove
In many ways the fulness of his love.
For many years this widow, in her grief,
Looked up to God, and found from him relief.
She knew the Lord, before her husband died,
And found Him one in whom she could confide;
In all her trials meekly bowed her head,
And found sweet peace was o'er her bosom shed.
Her son, to her, was all a son could be—
Yet on one point she felt anxiety:
He had not then experienced the New Birth,
And his best thoughts had all been of the Earth.
Adjoining their estate was living one—
A blithe young lady, who in beauty shone;
With health endowed, and with fair learning graced,
By wealth in easy circumstances placed.
AMELIA DOVE we well may call her name—
Like that sweet bird she seemed exempt from blame.
Her parents loved her—they could do no less—
She was the soul of all their happiness!
Early she rose, and, dressed in neat array,
Assisted her dear mother through the day.
Thus passed her time, beloved by all around—
She was as good a girl as could be found;
And a fair match for DAYCOURT all conceived—
This he himself had for some time believed.
They loved each other, and obtained consent
From their kind parents, and were well content.
And, having leisure, they would often walk,
Or, sitting in some bower, would sing and talk;
Or else they read some book which both admired,
Till their young hearts with ecstacy were fired;
Through hill and dale—through woods—were wont to rove,
Well pleased with all they saw, they drank in love!
The day arrived when DAYCOURT and his bride
Were at the altar in pure wedlock tied.
The day was spent as such like days have been,
And passed away in happiness serene.
At night, a bounteous marriage-feast was spread,
And Love's sweet influence over all seemed shed.
The friends invited strove to show their joy,
In wishing happiness without alloy
To that young couple, who, in youthful bloom,
Were the admired of all in that large room.
But, Oh! I shrink! 'Tis my ungracious task
From bliss like this to tear away the mask!
On such occasions wine's oft made to flow—
As if it were the source of joy below!