"I fancy that you will be at no loss to discover some striking
differences which will sufficiently answer your question. The
evil tendency of such writers as Rochefaucauld, and all the class
of satirists, who represent man as a debased and hypocritical
animal, does not proceed from the truth of the picture, but from
the manner of the painter. The scriptures indulge us in no 'lying
vanities;' they speak of the human race as born in sin and the
children of wrath; and Conscience, when we attend to her voice,
confirms the humiliating charge, with uncompromising fidelity. But
while the Bible, and those who preach its doctrines, point out the
disease, they likewise present the antidote. If they proclaim the
deformity of the natural man, it is to shew how the crooked may
be made straight; if they expose his weakness, it is to impart
strength; if they display his corruption, it is but to invite him
to wash in those waters which cleanse from all impurity. But such
moralists as you support, if moralists they can be called without
absurdity, would seem intent on excusing vice. The effect of their
books is, as it were to _legalize_ iniquity, by representing it as
invincible, and to destroy all sense of shame by laying bare its
concealments. Whatever produces this result by means of a pungent
and sententious brevity, is doubly injurious; for the authority
of a maxim is thus combined with the stimulus of evil: the form
is thus rendered portable and adhesive; and truths conveyed in
an epigrammatic shape at once flattering to our sagacity in an
appeal to its accuteness, and soothing to our faults by pronouncing
them to be universal, are not likely to be viewed as subjects for
serious lamentation; and the danger is, that the generality of men
will contemplate the moral sketches with feelings similar to those
commonly inspired by a spirited cariacature; namely, a desire that
the object of ridicule may continue to exist, rather than not be so
strikingly pourtrayed. As to Lord Byron, who stands pre-eminent,
like Milton's Satan, at the head of all the mischief-workers of the
present time, his poison is of another kind: slow and penetrating,
it is inhaled in the breeze, and absorbed into the circulation; its
effects are of the morbid class; it seduces, it insinuates, and,
like opium too freely used, destroys every healthful function of
the mind, and substitutes the distempered energy of an over-wrought
imagination for the wholesome exercise of reason and the sweet
charities of the heart. His beautiful poetry, and an inexhaustible
source of talents, rare as they were brilliant, operate as
cords which draw all mankind after him in bonds of submission.
Descriptions of nature or character, external to ourselves, however
happy in their delineation, interest but feebly in comparison with
what you justly call the '_metaphysics_' of sentiment. This is the
most fascinating of all possible studies; it requires no labour,
it asks no preparation; and all people, whatever their pretensions
in other respects, conceive themselves qualified for the school
of mental analysis which Byron has instituted and endowed. A
bad husband, a bad son, a bad father, has but to retire to some
'rose-leaf couch, where, nursing his dainty loves and slothful
sympathies,' he may find, in a volume of this too-attractive bard,
an apology for every sin of temper, every violation of duty; nay,
so contagious is the influence of this Byron-mania, that our young
men _cultivate_ the failings of their chief, and seem to fancy that
in becoming imitators of Childe Harold's eccentricities, they may
slide into his unrivalled genius. Selfishness and egotism are to
be found in the fallows of many a mind; but where are our youth to
learn Lord Byron's recipe for compounding them?"
Though not convinced, I was excited, and ventured again into the
field, by asking Mr. Otway whether good does not grow out of evil?
"Surely," said I, "Truth, like a lazy corporation, would rely upon
its charter, and have nothing to do but fatten on its revenues,
were it not for opposition.
'Si Lyra non lyrasset,
Lutherus non Saltasset.'
"The publication of wrong principles stirs up our slumbering
virtue; and besides, is it not useful to _see_ exactly what we
should avoid, that we may have no doubts regarding what we ought
to follow? If I had not been the advocate of Lord Byron as a poet,
I should not have had the pleasure of hearing your excellent
remarks." "No, no, young man; a specious sophistry is not sound
argument. I cannot allow you to misapply a scripture rule. Though
Providence has decreed that all things should work together for
good, it offers us no latitude to do evil that good may come of
it. _Our_ duty is defined; we must perform our part as well as we
can, and keep ourselves unspotted from the world, leaving events
in which we have no power given us of interference to the wisdom
of Him whose ways are not as our ways. We learn much better from
positive than from negative precepts: do you remember the pretty
little French song--
'Jongeant à ce qu'il faut qu'on oublie,
On s'en souvient.'
"The mind of man is easily corrupted, and clings with tenacity to
what it were better to forget. Believe me, that whatever we desire
to keep a stranger from the heart should not be familiarized to the
imagination. Vice is so alluring, that all the penalties appended
to its indulgence by the laws of God and man, are found unequal to
its suppression; but if the charms of wit and humour be employed
to palliate its criminality, and trifle with its punishment, we
may anticipate the conclusion, and expect to see the day when its
progress will be unresisted. Do not fancy that there is any class
of men exempt from the danger of infection. The stately quarto,
like a whited sepulchre, may hide its contents under a splendid
covering, but death and destruction are its inmates: rank and
wealth confer no privilege, and afford no amulet to preserve from
the contamination of immorality, alike fatal in its effects to high
and low--rich and poor; but though I would guard you from giving
yourself up to such a pilot through Parnassus as Lord Byron, I love
poetry too well myself to withhold its enjoyment from my young
friends. I am an old bachelor, but I hope that you will not find
me a severe ascetic; all things in their season--buds in spring,
blossoms in summer, and the fruit to crown our autumn board.
Youth is the natural period in which Hope and Fancy delight to
weave their golden tissues, and life is too changeful a scene to
make it necessary that we should voluntarily abridge its harmless
gratifications. We must not, however, sit here all day, while
such a brilliant sun is inviting us to walk; I have a great deal
to shew you, and we shall have many opportunities, I hope, for
conversation."
We were soon in the fields. After seeing a great deal of well-kept
and tastefully disposed pleasure-ground immediately contiguous
to the house, excellent kitchen garden, and admirable farm-yard,
stables, &c. we visited an inclosure, called here the _paddock_,
where were at least a dozen old horses, which were turned to graze
as superannuated pensioners. "When any of these my old and faithful
servants," said Phil., "can enjoy life no longer, I have him
despatched by a friendly bullet." "But, sir, you might get money
for these; they do not seem by any means past their labour." "Not
_quite_, perhaps, but they have worked diligently, and shall now
have a holyday while they live." From the paddock we proceeded to a
line of neat cottages, furnished each with a strip of garden at the
back, and ornamented in front by a little rustic paling, thickened
into a fence impervious to pigs and dogs, by privet, sweet brier,
and roses. "Here are some of your tenants' houses, Mr. Otway, I
suppose." "Why not exactly tenants in the _usual_ sense: these are
poor people, who, like my old horses, have seen their best days in
my service, and it is fair that _they_ too should rest from their
labours."
Showers of blessings were shed from these humble dwellings as
we passed along, which were repaid by kind greetings from their
benefactor. With one poor soul who sat in an arm-chair made of
straw at her door, and who was blind, the good Phil. shook hands,
and said aloud, "Mr. Howard, this is Kate Sullivan, the Queen of
_Pastime Row_, which is the name given by your cousin Fanny to
this line of houses." Old Kate appeared to feel as much delighted
by this distinguishing compliment, as an autocrat of the proudest
empire could be in seeing all the nations of the earth paying
homage to his supremacy.
"God bless Miss Fanny, and all the misses of the Glynn," cried old
_Cathleen_; "they are the Lord's own children; and glory, honour,
and praise be to his holy name; he will make a wide gap for 'em
whenever they are going into heaven; and _Maaster_ Arthur, my
heart (for 'tis I that very well has a right to know that you're
he, and nobody else), if his honour would'nt be after telling you
the _maining_ of Miss Fanny's _concait_, why, sir, 'tis, that she's
a pleasant, funny craiture in herself, and she have a _double aim_
in _wording_ the houses; for _pastime_ they say is all as one as
games, and sport-like; and it _mains_ too, that (God be praised for
all things) _we_ are going down the hill, as I may say, and past
our time for being any good-for."
I charmed this old soul as much by laughing heartily, and entering
with spirit into Fanny's humour, as if I had presented her with
fifty pounds. She called an aged man from the next door to hobble
out and join in the merriment, which I dare say ran before it
stopped, like an electric stream through every conductor of the
whole series. As we walked on, "I perceive," said I, "that her
majesty of _pastime_, is a Protestant, by her assurance that my
cousins are all travelling the high road to heaven." "You are
mistaken my dear fellow,--Kate has an _ave_ for every bead in her
_paddreen_, which is the Hibernian version of Corona, or Coronach;
and blind as she is, is conveyed by one of my paddock horses
annually on the eve of St. John, to a holy well, not far distant
from Lisfarne. This little journey is all the work that the queen
and her cattle are able to accomplish; and the same beast, that
'roan barbary' which came up to welcome us at the gate, has drawn
Kate and her truckle for so many years, that were True-penny to
die, I believe that blind as is his mistress, she would find out
that she had lost him, and be uneasy till the priest was sent for,
to _shrive_ and anoint her, in the full persuasion that _her_ hour
was also come."
"Well, you really do surprise me, but to confess the truth, you
deal in nothing but miracles in this county of Kerry. In less
than a week I have seen some strange things, which had any one
presumed, ere I beheld them, to say were existing realities, I
should have laughed as the king of Pegu is said to have done when
he heard of nations being governed without a monarch. I have seen
_Blue-stockings_ without pedantry, refinement that has never
been learned in the world of fashion, religion free from cant,
retirement unaccompanied by _ennui_; and now, as my list goes on
increasing like the story of the house that Jack built, here is the
Roman Catholic creed divested of bigotry; in the shape of an old
woman too, who fully expects, though a Papist herself, to meet a
Protestant family in the skies."
"Aye, my boy, and I hope that you will soon cease to wonder at
any of these things. The poor people of this island are brim-full
of intelligence and feeling; qualities which are of _adjective_
character, and increase the measure of good or bad exactly as they
happen to be associated. Were our peasantry fairly dealt with, the
tables would speedily be turned, and instead of that cold-hearted
sarcasm which would seem to be 'the badge and sufferance of all
their kind,' you would see their accusers glad to steal away, and
hide their diminished heads."
"But, sir, this is peculiarly the age of reason, and you will soon
be able to bring your assertion to the proof. All the world is mad
now upon the subject of education, and I suppose the light of
modern liberality, which scorns the narrow principle of a churlish
exclusion, has with the eagle eye of truth, borne down and pierced
the shades of prejudice that may have hung upon your sea-girt Isle.
Have you not schools at Lisfarne, and Glenalta? and if you will let
me ask one question allied to the last, _may_ I venture to enquire
why you, whom I should imagine of all men, the last to countenance
ignorance and superstition, should abet them both by sending old
Kate upon her pilgrimage of folly, instead of endeavouring to
open her mind to the sun of knowledge?" Otway smiled, and taking
me by the hand, jocosely said, "why, Arthur, thou art fit for a
senator; we must have you in the House of Commons; you are an
orator:" then, resuming his usual expression of features, "you
will despise me perhaps," added he, "if I tell you that I am not
bitten with the fashionable school mania to the extent which you
deem requisite to constitute a _liberal_. I have two schools,--one
of them, and by far the most numerously attended, is for works of
industry exclusively. To the other I only admit such children
as by a previous discipline in moral conduct, and regularity
of demeanor, earn the reward of being taught to read. To this
promotion there are two conditions annexed, which form a _sine qua
non_ of admission. The first is, that the scriptures without note
or comment, should be read daily, the master selecting, according
to my instruction, such parts as are best adapted to the age and
capacity of his pupils; the second, that each child should bring
a penny per week, to create a fund for winter clothing, books, or
whatever occasion may require. In this way I endeavour to prevent
the abuse of letters, by preparing the soil for their introduction.
Respect for learning is increased, when it costs something to
obtain it; and I find a test of sincerity is established to a
certain degree by this small pecuniary condition, as people never
pay for what they do not really desire to possess. Though the money
thus collected returns whence it came, it goes back in another
form. Like the dew, it rises in imperceptible vapour, and falls in
palpable, and refreshing showers. It requires a slight degree of
self-denial, _even_ to allot a penny per week in this manner; and
there is a feeling of independence connected with every benefit
which exercises individual frugality in its acquisition, while
gratitude is still kept alive towards the fostering hands which
deal out the fund so husbanded for general good. Then again, by not
offering gratuitous teaching, I prevent many from coming, who would
not turn their learning to good account, while I may always provide
for an exception to my rule in supplying a worthy object who is too
poor to _qualify_, with means of contributing the appointed mite."
"Then, sir, I conclude that you think education may be spread too
widely."
"Certainly; in _this_ country we cannot interfere with the
religion of the _Mass_. If I could plant a Bible in every cottage,
I would teach all men, women, and children to read it; but the
accomplishment of reading considered, without reference to
religious instruction, is about as necessary and suitable to a poor
labouring man, as a gold snuff box would be; and it is to me quite
astonishing, that so many sober minds should give into the opposite
absurdity which prevails at present, with a _rage_ equal to that in
the medical world for white mustard seed. We never think of silk
gowns or fine cloth for the poor; we do not dream of serving up
venison and turtle for them at a charity dinner; and, when sick, we
do not order them the South of France, or prescribe hock, ice, and
all the expensive delicacies become necessary to the luxury of our
opulent higher classes. All things should _be in keeping_. A man
who works for a shilling a day, eats his potatoes, and lies down
to be refreshed by sleep for the morrow's labour, has no need of
literature. It will neither make him happier nor better, unless you
could secure the _use_ of his acquirement in increased knowledge of
the word of God. Our Irish Priests will not permit this. I do not
mean to be hard upon them; they are a needy class, usually taken
from the lowest conditions of life, and depending for subsistence
on the measure of their influence with the people. To keep the
minds of their flocks in absolute subjugation to their authority,
is essential to their very existence; and they are fearfully aware,
that free access to the Bible would quickly destroy their power, by
undermining its foundation."
"At least," said I, "though the men cannot leave their spades, why
not teach the women? _They_ could instruct the children, and the
next generation would reap the profit."
"Pooh, my dear Arthur, you are a young theorist, and float with
the fashionable tide. Whatever be the situation of one sex must
be shared by the other. A pair of diamond earrings would be about
as appropriate an appendage to the head of poor Susan, whom you
visited this morning, as the History of England, or a Treatise
on Political Economy would be in her hands. The thing is not
wanted--it is out of place. The sordid cares of life leave little
time for bodily rest or mental repose; and unless, as I said
before, you can be sure of planting the one thing needful, every
moment which could be stolen from household toil, and devoted to
books, would be employed on the trash which is placed through the
licentious _liberality_ of the press, within the grasp of all
who desire to quaff at the feculent stream. Music is a pleasing
resource, drawing is another, but you do not conceive these to be
requisite for the well-being of our cottagers. How are reading,
writing, arithmetic, and geometry, more allied to the happiness
of an agricultural labourer than the former? Remember _always_
that my argument only applies when the Bible is excluded or
made subservient to the base purposes of secular advancement by
hypocrites, who employ it as a stepping-stone to the favour of
their superiors. Physicians do not read law, lawyers do not read
physic, nor either of them military tactics--and why? Because they
do not want a species of knowledge out of their department. The
same rule may be generally applied. A poor cottager has nothing
to do with letters, unless he be made better and happier by
acquaintance with them; and should his attention be directed to the
tirades of Messrs. Shiel and O'Connell, to the demoralizing details
of practical vice with which our newspapers unfortunately abound;
to the ethics of Mr. Cobbett or the religion of Mr. Carlile,
instead of to the Sacred Volume, I think that you must agree with
me in doubting the growth of virtue and contentment as the result
of such studies."
I felt shaken, I must own, but replied, "The tide of public opinion
is so forcible, that we are often drawn along with it before we
are aware how far it will lead us. I confess that I have joined
a hue and cry in favour of universal education, without thinking
much about the matter. Experience, undoubtedly, must confirm or
contradict the utility of its unlimited extension, and I shall be
happy to hear your farther sentiments upon the subject, if you are
not tired of my questions."
"Indeed, my dear Howard, you shall ever find me ready and willing
to discuss this and every other topic upon which I am capable of
offering an opinion; but we must not pass the day of your first
visit to Lisfarne, _at school_. We must have a little recreation
this morning, or I should despair of your coming again to see old
C[oe]lebs in his cell. I want to take you a walk along the sea
shore, and, as the day is fine, I am going, with your permission,
to send one of my young _footpads_ over to Glenalta, to say that
you will dine here; and should Oliphant arrive, as I think he
probably will by this evening's coach, you will not regret being
absent at the meeting, as you are a stranger to the good man."
The name of Oliphant caused a sudden revulsion, and produced a
complete _bouleversement_ in all my pleasurable sensations. A
stripling mountaineer was despatched, who flew like an arrow
across the fields with Mr. Otway's message, and behold us arm in
arm skirting the wood, and, ere long, approaching a bold headland
which stood beautifully out into the bay. As we jogged on together,
I felt growing more and more at ease with mine host, and at last
ventured to give a vent to my _Oliphantphobia_, by saying, "How
I dread this tiresome piece of parchment divinity that we are
expecting! Adieu now to the cheerfulness of Glenalta. This old
bookworm is, I suppose, my aunt's domestic sense-carrier, and will
disapprove of every thing but black letter lore in the mornings,
and snuffling canticles for our evening diversion."
"I think," said Phil. "that having found yourself deceived in so
many preconceptions respecting Glenalta, you ought not to condemn
poor Domine without benefit of clergy. Suspend your judgment. If
you do not like him, you will differ widely from your family, but
let him have fair play; I will not bespeak your favour, nor stand
sponsor to your taste."
We walked on, stopped now and then to look at the views, and, at
length turning into a zig-zag path, arrived by a short circuit at
a little spot of exquisite beauty. It was an arch-way rather than
cavern in the rock, extending inwards no farther than to form a
bower of stone, if you will admit such a description. Lined with
ivy, which actually grows like a tissue fitted to the irregular
surface, and almost buried in arbutus, it seemed as if the very
Genius of Contemplation had selected this natural alcove for her
favourite haunt. I stood wonder-struck by the scene, innumerable
sea-birds wheeling round us, and uttering their plaintive wailings
to the wind. Rocks, ocean, solitude wherever the eye could reach,
while the sun-beams dancing on the calm surface of the "green one,"
seemed to say, "you shall not indulge melancholy here."
Mr. Otway appeared much pleased with my silent rapture, and, after
a little pause, took me to a seat covered with the same luxuriant
drapery which hung upon the rocky walls, and which, without any
apparent assistance from art, formed a bench entirely round the
cave.
When we were seated, Mr. Otway, with a sigh which seemed to break
from his heart, told me that this rude temple, hewn by nature from
the wild mass of stone under the shelter of which we were now
conversing, was sacred to my uncle.