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From the New Monthly Magazine. ant pride on his achievements in rebuilding into
one superb confederacy the broken system of Eu
rope, and closing by an unexampled triumph an For nearly forty years past, Dr. Croly has unexampled war, which menaced the dissolution been distinguished in the paths of polite litera- of every tie of nations and of men. turc, by his contributions to the departments of It is a long tale of years since Dr. Croly won poctry, history, biography, romance, and criti- his first laurels in verse by his "Paris in 1815"* cism. As a politician and a divine, he is one of -a decided success, which he followed up by a the few surviving representatives of old-fashioned, variety of other poetical ventures,-for example, consistent, leal-hearted conservatism in Church" The Angel of ihe World," an Arabian legend; and State. Not High Church, if that implies Sebastian," a Spanish tale; a comedy, entitled sympathy with the opinions and practices of our “ Pride shall have a Fall;"'" Catiline," a tragePuseys and Denisons; not Low Church, if a dy; “Gems from the Antique;" numerous lyrics penchant towards the technicals of the Clapham and occasional verses, “ Scenes from Seriptura," Sect, and the policy of the Evangelical Alliance, etc., etc. We cannot but assent to a lately deenters into that definition; not Broad Church, ceased critic-himself a poet, tender and trueaccording to the modern Latitudinarians, as de- who, while according to Dr. Croly, as a poet, picted in the Edinburgh Review; but one of those many great and shining qualities; a rich comstaunch, steadfast Church-of-England Protestants, mand of language, an ear finely attuned to muwhom we are wont to regard as the model clergy sicad expression, a fertile and lucid conceptive after the very mind and heart of good old George power, and an intellect at once subtle and masthe Third. 'Exception, however, must be al-culine ; yet observes, even of the best of his polowed to his peculiar views on Prophecy, which ems, that they are rather effusions than compoare dissonant enough from the harmony of the sitions, and abound with passages of mere theological Georgium sidus.
declamation however eloquent, and not unfreNowhere, probably, is Dr. Croly more em- quently, substitute rhetoric for inspiration. We phatically and satisfactorily himself, than in his are reminded of the buskined tread and the statepolitical memoir of Edmund Burke; a memoir ly regularity of the French theatre. We see the which, had it but comprised also some account poet don the learned sock" of one of our great of the great statesman's home and private life, masters, but listen in vain for an echo of the would have secured a far more prominent, and "wood-notes wild,” of another and a greater. maybe a permanent, place in the world of books. We mark the imposing flow of canorous rhythm, Thc Doctor's enthusiastic appreciation of Burke, the processional pomp of artful versification, the it does one good to follow ; nor is his own style classical refinement of an uniformly elevated die an unworthy vehicle of such eulogy-cast as it tion; but the touch of nature, the sudden thrill is in so similar a mould, and presenting so many of feeling, the simple response of the heart to features of high, and not merely mimic, relation-one that can sway it at will,—these we miss, and ship. The glow of affectionate reverence colors missing we deplore. Yet as we write, there ocwith hues warm and lustrous the pages of this curs to us, as an instance quotable per contra, the biography. The biographer's own eloquence touching song of the gentle Moorish minstrel in kindles high, when he revives for us the scene “ Sebastian" which may be given in as evidence of the arch-Orator's parliamentary battles :- against us :
While he forewarns, denounces, launches forth,
Farewell, my gentle harp, farewell,
Thy task shall soon be done, Of Institutes and Laws, hallowed by time;
And she who loved thy lonely spell
Shall, like its tones, be gone;
* Perhaps the most vigorous and characteristic Upon the allegiance to which men are born*- portion, as certainly the best known, of this poem,
is that descriptive of the French retreat from Russia in times big with ominous change, which“ night " Magnificence of ruin! what has time
in 1812, beginning with the stanzas, by night, provoked keen struggles, and black In all it ever gazed upon of war, clouds of passion raised”—but when the flighti- Of the wild rage of storm, or deadly clime, est and the fiercest of the Orator's foemen would Seen, with that battle's vengeance to compare? sit “rapt auditors," “ dazzled beholders," How glorious shone the invader's pomp afar!
Like pampered lions from the spoil they came; When Wisdom, like the Goddess from Jove's brain, The land before them silence and despair, Broke forth in armor of resplendent words,
The land behind them massacre and flame; Startling the Synod.
Blood will have tenfold blood. What are they
now? A name. A companion work is the similarly executed
" Homeward by hundred thousands, column-deep, éloge of William Pitt-in whose personal charac- Broad square, loose squadron, rolling like the flood ter Dr. Croly impressively records the “solid When mighty torrents from their channels leap, connection of private virtues with public fidelity” Billow on endless billow; on through wood,
Rushed through the land the haughty multitude, -while he insists on the “heaven-born minis- O'er rugged hill, down sunless marshy vale. ter's" success as commensurate with the lofty in- The death-devoted moved, to clangor rude tegrity of his principles, and dwells with exult- of drum and horn, and dissonant clash of mail,
Glancing disastrous light before that sunbeam * Wordsworth: "Prelude," book vii.
Gone to the bed, where mortal pain
the dread sentence, “ Tarry thou till I come !" Pursues the weary heart in vain.
In fact, we should peruse the tale with greater
interest were Salathiel not the Wandering Jew I shed no tears, light passes by
since the supernatural destiny affixed to that The pang that melts in tears,
traditional being goes far to remove him from The stricken bosom that can sigh,
the ordinary pale of human sympathies, and No mortal arrow bears. When comes the mortal agony,
transplants him into the shadowy region of The lip is hush’d, and calm the eye.
creatures unreal and allegorical. Dr.
deed claims for him a share of the common reAnd mine has come, no more I weep,
pugnances, hopes, and fears of human nature No longer passion's slave,
and makes him shun pain and disease as instincMy sleep must be th' unwaking sleep, tively and intensely as if he held his life on the My bed must be the grave.
frailest tenure. But there is something inconThrough my wild brain no more shall move
gruous and unsatisfactory in all this. Allan Or hope, or fear, or joy, or love.
Cunningham observes, that we feel with Sala
thiel for eighty years and odd; and at the close It were libellous to say there are no other such of the usual term of human life, shut our hearts, examples of the simply pathetic and tenderly and commence wondering. The observation alnatural in the author's volumes of verse, but there most implies, however, that “ honest Allan” are not many such, so far as our judgment and either had never read, or else had forgotten all memory will serve.
about Salathiel ; for Croly confines his three From his doings in minstrelsy, turn we to his volumes to fewer than eighty years and odd," doings in prose fiction. Most people have heard concluding them with the destruction of Jerusaof " Salathiel,” but not many have read it. The lem by the Romans under Titus. reputation which it ensured its author was wide, If ever the veritable Wandering Jew turns up, and emphatic, but it was of a hearsay kind. and gives the world his autobiography, or some Men pronounced the story of the Jew a work of one graphic section thereof, it will not be much genius, and Dr. Croly a distinguished writer; but in the vein of “ Salathiel.” Dr. Croly is too rhethey wisely confined their admiration to the safe thorical by half. His excited orientals in their plațitudes of general terms, and abstained from wildest vagaries are cool enough to sacrifice asking one another. Have you read “Salathiel ? " | passion for a period, and not unfrequently prefer To have solicited their special opinion on the pomp to pathos. They have one and all been character of Sabat the Ishmaelite, or the de- taught to declaim, and to speak their speeches scription of Rome in flames, and the - Christians trippingly on the tongue. If they have someto the lions!” would speedily and sadly have thing akin to Isaiah and Ezekiel, to Paul and reduced them to a nonplus. How often does the John, they also betray their obligations to Ed. same principle hold good in the circles of the mund Burke and modern oratory. Another fashionable reading world! Even the popularity valid objection to “Salathiel," is want of unity. of the most popular, were it carefully analyzed. It is almost a thing of shreds and patches — a might show such an absence of the elements of portfolio of ill-connected sketches. It is a rollintelligence and actual sympathy as would con- ing picture of eastern scenery, a cyclorama of siderably disgust the object of it. The voice of moving accidents by flood and field. Many of the multitude is not the most trustworthy of the details are given with the hand of a master. guarantees for immortality — too frequently it The reader of Salathiel” cannot but be struck illustrates the scornful lines of old Ilorace in the by descriptions like that of the demoniae by the French tragedy:
Dead Sea, the burning of Rome under Nero, the
fight of Constantius with the lion, the surprise Sa voix tumultueuse assez souvent fait bruit Dlais un moment l'eleve, un moment le detruit;
of the citadel of Massada, the orgies in the Et ce qu'il contribue a notre renommee
pirates' cave, and, above all, the solitary passage Toujours en moins de riens se dissipe en fumee.*
of Salathiel in the burning galley, when, plung.
ing and tossing like a living creature in its last While, then, we are not prepared to say that agony, the trireme he had boarded burst away "Salathiel” deserved more popularity, we think from her anchors, – the wind was off the shore that it deserved more readers. What a magnifi- struck her, -- and on the back of a huge refluent
- a gust, strong as the blow of a battering ram, cent theme, even though a trite and faded one, wave, she 'shot out to sea, a flying pyramid of that of the Wandering Jew! What scope for a fire. The book contains, also, several portraits soaring imagination, what background for a glowing fancy, in the story of the mortal immor. touched off with considerable talent : Sabat the tal, the “ everlasting” stranger upon earth, the
Ishmaelite, first seen as the crazy beggar, the son unresting, undying one! And here meets us a herald of evil
, so vigorously described by Jose:
of El Hakim, and afterwards as that terrible fault in Dr. Croly's romance. Beyond a page or two at the beginning and the end of his fiction, phus, who, in Jerusalem's hour and power of there is positively no connection between Sala: darkness, wandered up and down her streets, thiel and the Wandering Jew. The interest crying “Woe! woe! woe ! "- Jubal, the impetudoes not attach to the latter as such. The plot the infamous Roman procurator,
ous and ill-fated Jewish warrior-Gessius Florus,
a little bloatdoes not gather
around him as such. He is almost ed figure, with a countenance that to the casual uninfluenced, his career is almost unaffected by observer' was the model of gross good-nature, ? * Corneille : Horace, Acte v. Scene iii.
twinkling eye, and a lip on the perpetual laugh', - the Emperor Nero," a pale, under-sized, light-opinion as to the success of his electicism in this haired young man, sitting before a table with a respect. And now, having growled ad libitum, lyre on it, a few copies of verses and drawings, let us own, in conclusion, that “Salathiel” is not and a parrot's cage, to whose inmate he was lacking in features of power and grandeur, in teaching Greek with great assiduity" — Titus, qualities of lofty conception and elaborate ful. princely, engaging, with features “handsome filment, such as would do honor to any writer of and strongly-marked Italian, and form, though the age. tending to breadth, and rather under the usual The mere fact of its publication in the pages stature, yet eminently dignified.” The character of Blackwood ensured to Dr. Croly's other novel, of the troublous times to which this fiction be- Marston,” the advantage of a large, if not an longs, supplies the author with ample opportu- eager, public. It failed to excite the interest nities for getting his hero into strange passes. which some of its “forbears” and successors, as But the interest is mightily abated when we serial fictions in Old Ebony, have so signally know how sure he is to get out of them, and the aroused-such as the sea-stories of Michael Scott, very variety of Salathiel's difficulties becomes at the exaggerated but often forcible inventions of last monotonous and wearisome. He is perpet- Dr. Samuel Warren, and the crowning triumphs ually being taken prisoner, and perpetually set- of Sir Bulwer Lytton. But “ Marston" has high ting himself, or being set at liberty. "The way to merits of its kind—and to those who relish the catch him, is, to Roman and Jew, easy enough; introduction of political and historical portraits, but the way to keep him is undreamed of in their mingling on the stage of the action,-after the penal philosophy. Nero despatches him to exe- manner of Scott in “Peveril," or of the lastcution, and a masked figure hurries him instead named maestro in “ Devereux "—these “ Memoirs to liberty. Near the Lake of Tiberias he is cap- of a Statesman," walking and talking with statestured by a body of Roman troopers, and gives men French and English, during the agitating them the slip by a ruse of Arab horsemanship. years of the French Revolution, are replete with atAfter a two years' durance in an unlighted dun- traction. The principles in politics, the clucidageon, he gropes his subterranean way into a tion of which had occupied Dr. Croly's mind while brilliantly illuininated cavern of Cypriote pirates. engaged on the biographies of Burke and Pitt, he Onias imprisons him in the upper ward of a stu- had now an opportunity of illustrating in the pendous tower, and a boy lets him out of the form, and with the vivid aids, and the appliances window in an empty wine-basket. Titus has and means to boot, of fictitious narrative-phihim fast under trusty lock and key, and a young losophy teaching by example--and this opportu. girl, Naomi, guides him to freedom. Again Oni- nity he turned to account with skill, and with as consigns him to captivity in the Tower of An- fair success. It involved the peril of indulgence tonia, in a dungeon undermined and fired by the in disquisition, and of postponing story to arguenemy; and the very means used for his inevita- mentative discourse (which the subscribers to ble destruction are those which saved his charmed Hookham's, Ebers', Mudie's, etc., profanely style life, for though the walls collapse, and he is “prosing”), and of making plot and passion plunged down a chasm, and continues rolling for yield the pas to dissertation and description; but some moments in a whirl of stones, dust, earth, the writer was too experienced in his craft, and and smoke, yet, when it subsides, he finds him. too lively in his ideas, ever to become absolutely self lying on the greensward, in noonday, at the dry; too animated in his perceptions, and too bottom of a valley, with the Tower of Antonia graphic in the expression of them, ever to be covered with the legionaries, five hundred feet voted unconditionally " slow,"—unless, peradabove him,-and, as might be expected, he is up venture, by some of those very “fast” fellows, and doing again in no time at all.
who are themselves superlatively slow in their The management of historical fiction is at all upper-works-in the mechanics (it were absurd, times a matter of nicety and difficulty. We do in their case, to say the dynamics) of vous. not think “Salathiel" à triumph of art in this Of Dr. Croly's minor tales, one of the most respect. There is either too much or too little remarkable is that entitled " Colonna the Painhistory in it. It is neither one thing nor the ter," a tale of Italy and the Arts, with la Vendetta other. There is something paradoxical in its for its stirring, thrilling, all-absorbing theme. very starting point. Why is Salathiel so in- The conduct of the narrative is admirable; and finitely affected by the words " Tarry thou till I the diction, like that of its imaginary manuscript, come, proceeding as they do from the mouth of lofty and impassioned-occasionally rising into One in whose divine mission he is not a believer? a sustained harmony, a rhythmical beauty and And then in the evolution of the great drama of balance, consonant with the locale and the accesJerusalem's destruction, we have just sufficient sories of the story. There is masterly art in the adherence to history to make us expect the nar- narrator's prefiguration of the catastrophe by the ration of notorious episodes, inseparably related picture in Colonna's Saloon, and his gradual to the catastrophe, and the introduction of noto- development of the events of which it was the rious characters, almost essential to the working dark culmination. The whole is highly wrought, of the tragedy-in which expectation, however, but without any of the strain and startling diswe find ourselves in error. As a writer of fic- tortion of the French school. The “Tales of tion, Dr. Croly was at liberty to use as much and the Great St. Bernard," some of which made a as little of fact as he pleased, always with a due sensation when they appeared, we can do no deference to the exigencies of art; and as read-more than name. And to the same nominative ers of fiction, we too are at liberty to express our case, in the plural number, must be referred the
diligent author's edition of Pope, his Reign of staring, at the Theologian Croly's Revelations George the Fourth, and other miscellaneous of the Revelations of St. John the Theologian works.
-both poets, both seers--the one saw visions, Theology falls not within our province; yet, and the other dreams dreams; but John was no omitting mention of the Rector of St. Stephen's Tory, and Croly is no conjuror. Therefore, (Walbrook) general performances in this depart- though his views extend to the last conflagration, ment, we are tempted to bestow a parting word he is not, in my humble judgment, likely to bear
that articular book of his, which, from the part in it by setting the Thames on fire. The nature of its subjeet, of all others, it might seem divine, Croly, sets John the Divine's trumpets our chiefest duty to leave undisturbed_his Com- and vials side by side. Methinks trumpets and mentary, namely, on the Apocalypse of St. John viols would make the better accompaniment, the Divine. This exposition it is almost diffi- the more so as there is a particular kind of fiddle, cult to reconcile with our previous impressions though not strung with cat-gut, for which Mr. of the writer, as a man of highly cultivated in. Croly's book would make an appropriate bow. tellectual power, and gifted with much practical Verily, verily, my dear friend! I feel it impossisagacity-indeed, one of his critics defines his ble to think of this shallow, fiddle-faddle trum. intellectual distinction to be strong, nervous, and pery, and how it has been trumpeted and patromanly sense. But he is also of an imaginative nized by our bishops and dignitaries, and not and ardent temperament,--and to this he seems enact either Heraclitus or Democritus. I laugh to have yielded the direction of his exegetical that I may not weep. You know me too well to pen, when transporting himself in spirit to the suppose me capable of treating even in error of isle called Patmos, and interpreting the mysteries faith with levity. But these are not errors of of the seven-sealed scrolls. His ebullient Pro- faith; but blunders from the utter want of faith, testantism and his rampant anti-Gallicism got a vertigo from spiritual inanition, from the lack the better of him, and fired him to explain the of all internal strength; even as a man giddy, vastest, sublimest, most inscrutable of apocalyp- drunk throws his arms about, and clasps hold of tic symbols by their “ things of the day.” He a barber's block for support, and mistakes seeing could descry in the spelling of Apollyon a dread- double for additional evidences.'”* The most ful identity with that of Napoleon. His eager sage and sensible of men appear, somehow, liable snatches at allusions and analogies may remind to monomaniac tendencies on the one subject of us of Wordsworth's smile
prophecy: even Newton was crotchety here; and
Dr. Croly but adds another name to the list of At gravest heads, by enmity to France
those celebrated by his satirical fellow-country. Distempered, till they found, in every blast Forced from the street-disturbing newsman's horn,
man, such as For her great cause record or prophecy Of utter ruin.
Whiston, who learnedly took Prince Eu,
For the man who must bring the Millennium Coleridge, whose liaison with Edward Irving about; must have imparted to him a special extrinsic | And Faber, whose pious productions have been interest in the theme of this Commentary, was All belied, ere his book's first edition was out. even vehement in the tone of his strictures upon it. We find him writing as follows, in a letter to * Memoirs of the Rev. H. F. Cary. Dante Cary :-“I have been just looking, rectius
From Household Words. home to the churchyard, and they themselves THE RUINED POTTER.
with feeble bodies and accumulated debts, which
had run on wildly during sickness. First, James JAMES FIELDING was the son of a potter, and was put into jail for the doctor's bill, and then bred up to his father's trade. He married young the landlord distrained for rent, and turned them -long before he could keep a wife—and with on the world ; and so they were ruined. both his parents' consent, or rather with their To be in prison, never serves a man; he gets a forgiveness, as they could not help themselves. habit of shifting and shuffling, and leaning, and For, as they said, it war very nat'ral, an' he talking, and idling; he has the short hand-in-themight ha' done worse : 'twar, to be sure, the first pocket walk, and the hang-down look of a jail time, an' belike he would'nt do it agen. And so companion; he is never a man again. James they cordially shook hands with him, and pledged Fielding came out of Stafford jail, a changed the pretty bride in a flagon of old Burton, and character: more clever and less capable of work were both present at the first child's christening. - daintier, but not so refined-prouder, but not But the cholera came soon afterwards, and took more honorable; the edge was taken from the off the old man, and his wife. This was the mind and given to the appetites; nevertheless, opening-scene of James Fielding's sufferings- he was a fond father, for he shortly became one want-pestilence and death. His wife and him- again, and a loving husband to a wife who doatself were soon afterwards seized with the disor-ed on him. But a thoroughly fallen man seldom der, and, though they recovered slowly, it was rights himself, and bankruptcy is a break-up for only to find their father and mother, and first-life in the constitution of successful industry. born child, removed from their once comfortable James Fielding labored, but his toil was thrift
DXXXIV. LIVING AGE. VOL. VI. 21
less; he found friends, but, one way or other, he “I can't say much for 'em, sir,--they be but let in everybody who had anything to do with poorly.” him. By degrees, he.got, as was natural, a very They have had some food, to-day, I hope ?" bad character, and, as is generally the case under " 'Tis early yet, sir.” It was past midday. such circumstances, without altogether deserving “But indeed they hante well.” it. He was an unfortunate, but not an evil man; “Did they eat anything last night before lying and we all know how falling bodies quicken in down?" their descent.
" Baby had a şup o' gruel oat o' James's cup, Still, he was a man born to suffer, and to earn but Billy an' Jacky, an' the t'other ent had nohis bread by the sweat of his brow. Men of all thing." countries, stations, and fortunes, labor-from the And you u?" serf to the lord-and Fielding's destiny was only 'Oh, sir, God be praised, I am used to it that of his sex. But, the gentle, pretty girl, Ten years is a long 'prentisage. 'Tis surprisin' whom he had taken from her father's home to how the famine feeds itself. An' then, the childcomfort and cherish, to keep his fireside clean, ern's cries, an' him a dyin', drives the thought and to nurse his little ones around him,-her lot away from me. I ent got the hard stomach o' was not cast by God for labor, for toil and moil, hunger, sir; 'tis unfeelin' in a mother." and anguish; yet who can tell what arrows of No wonder she did not feel the gnawings of grief pierced that woman's heart during her want; she had passed her being into other existtwelve years apprenticeship to wifedom !: Who ences; she had lost her identity in the wife and shall describe the unwomanly miseries, alas, too the mother. common in England ! of her daily shifts and "Well, well, we must do something for the struggles, her pigmy gaunt looks, her threadbare children, Mary." clothes insufficient to protect her from the winter “Oh, sir, I did na come for that. What I weather, her hard day-labor, her sharp endur- wants is work. You ha' comed atween us an ance of her children's hunger, and forgetfulness death, many's a time. But, indeed, what I am of her own : her long sad catalogue of distresses, here for, is, afore Jeames goes I wish he could compared with which the pains of childbirth and see you, sir, an' talk wi' you a bit. His mind be even the death of the child at the breast, are strange an' uncomfortable like, about religion." nothing, being feminine sufferings.
“I thought him a believer, Mary.” This poor woe-begone mother stood before Mayhap he be; but men tell their wives good curate Godfrey, one of a noiseless way. what, if they could, they would hide from God, faring body of Christian men who make little an' I ha' heerd him say awful things; he war stir beyond their own parish, but are there con always so courageous like. Howsomdever, his stantly felt and heard of; the true disciples of hour be come, an' he ha’ losed his darin, an' the Father of the poor, the world's first teacher believes jist like a child. I thought, if he could of quiet charity:
on'y sce you, sir.” “He be goin' fast, indeed he be,” said Mary Mr. Godfrey rang the bell. An aged but notFielding, speaking of the potter, who had been able servant woman came. down some weeks in a low fever. "'Tis hard “Martha, bring Mrs. Fielding a little warm to lose the father of one's child'en. I could ha' bread and milk." borne any stroke but thisn. Everywhere is a " Oh, no no, sir! 'Tis only my way, what churchyard now—the life is dug out o' me." you see in my face; I war alway' palish like
“Do not murmur, but think of the past. I leastways this many a day." remember christening some of those children, Martha, who had promptly obeyed her master, When he and you were full of health and joy. returned in a few minutes with a basin. *In this journey of life, Mary, there is no hill “There, take that gently, Mary; it will warm
without its hollow. Your neighbor Susan Jack- you.” son will not have to mourn the loss of a hus- “Will you forgive me, sir? Indeed I cannot. hand, for she has never known the love and pro- It ’ud choke me. The child'en—the poor hun. tection of one; and when she goes, she will not gry child'en, sir!” leave orphans' to grieve for her. But, for all They shall be thought of.” Mr. Godfrey left that; Susan is very lonely and destitute, and says the room, returning shortly after with his long nobody cares for her.”
surtout buttoned closely up, and a small parcel Mayhap; but Susan Jackson can't be sorry in his hand. for what she never had; and poor folk didn't “ This contains a loaf, Mary-and something vought to be fanciful. 'Tis me, sir, partin' wi' else-you know what to do with it. Let me i my husband, that should fret."
have the ticket when I call, which will be in the “But you should remember, Mary, that when course of the evening. Leave me now." James and you were married, it was on the con- The comforted mother looked on Heaven's dition you were to part one day. We must not minister and then up to heaven, and passed forget the ninety-nine favors because the hun- noiselessly through the small door, with faith, dredth is not granted. The Lord gave, and the hope, and maternal love-the three strongest Lord taketh away.”
pulses of the heart- to support her. She had “Oh, sir, 'tis beautiful to hear ye talk; you had the only full and perfect lesson of religionalway say suminut so comfortin', feelin', an' sen- charity. But she did not know, until she got to sible like. One is ashamed to grumble afore the pawnshop: that the poor curate had taken you, 'tis so selfish and ill-natured."
his only waistcoat from his back to feed her But how are the little ones, Mary?" children. Then, indeed, the tide of religion camo