“‘Of his sunk eyes some awful mystery, And wept we knew not why. There was a grace Of radiant joyful hope upon his face, Most unaccustomed, and which seemed to be All foreign to his wasted frame; and yet So heavenly in its consolation we Smiled through the tears with which our lids were wet. His lips were cold, as, whispering, ‘Do not fret
“‘When I am gone,’ he kissed us: and he took Our uncle's hands, which on our heads he laid, And said: ‘My children, do not be afraid Of Death, but be prepared to meet him. Look; Here is your mother's brother; he to her As Reginald to Eve.’ His thin voice shook.— ‘Eve was your Mother's name.’ His words did err, As dreaming; and his wan lips ceased to stir.’”—pp. 55-57.
(We have quoted this passage, not insensible to its defects,—some common-place in sentiment and diction; but independently of the good it does really contain, as being the only one of such a character sustained in quality to a moderate length.)
Reginald and his cousin Wilton grew up together friends, though not bound by common sympathies. The latter has known life early, and “earned experience piecemeal:” with the former, thought has already become a custom.
Thus far only does Reginald bring his retrospect; his other friends come up, and they all return homeward. Here, too, ends the story of this canto; but not without warranting some surmise of what will furnish out the next. There is evidence of observation adroitly applied in the talk of the two under-keepers who take charge of the boat.
“They said: ‘Oh! what a gentleman to talk Is that there Lacy! What a tongue he've got! But Mr. Vivian is a pretty shot. And what a pace his lordship wish to walk! Which Mr. Tancarville, he seemed quite beat: But he's a pleasant gentleman. Good lawk! How he do make me laugh! Dang! this 'ere seat Have wet my smalls slap thro'. Dang! what a treat!
“‘There's company coming to the Place to morn: Bess housemaid told me. Lord and Lady——: dash My wigs! I can't think on. But there's a mash O' comp'ny and fine ladies; fit to torn The heads of these young chaps. Why now I'd lay This here gun to an empty powder-horn Sir Reginald be in love, or that-a-way. He looks a little downcast-loikish,—eh?’”—pp.62, 63.
It will be observed that there is no vulgarity in this vulgarism: indeed, the gentlemanly good humour of the poem is uninterrupted. This, combined with neatness of handling, and the habit of not over-doing, produces that general facility of appearance which it is no disparagement, in speaking of a first canto, to term the chief result of so much of these life and adventures as is here “done into verse.” It may be fairly anticipated, however, that no want of variety in the conception, or of success in the pourtrayal, of character will need to be complained of: meanwhile, a few passages may be quoted to confirm our assertions. The two first extracts are examples of mere cleverness; and all that is aimed at is attained. The former follows out a previous comparison of the world with a “huge churn.”
“Yet some, despising life's legitimate aim, Instead of butter, would become “the cheese;” A low term for distinction. Whence the name I know not: gents invented it; and these Gave not an etymology. I see no Likelier than this, which with their taste agrees; The caseine element I conceive to mean no Less than the beau ideal of the Casino.”—p. 12.
“Wise were the Augurers of old, nor erred In substance, deeming that the life of man— (This is a new reflection, spick and span)— May be much influenced by the flight of birds. Our senate can no longer hold their house When culminates the evil star of grouse; And stoutest patriots will their shot-belts gird When first o'er stubble-field hath partridge whirred.”—p.25.