Читать книгу: «The Mirror of Literature, Amusement, and Instruction. Volume 19, No. 533, February 11, 1832», страница 6

HERBERT'S COUNTRY PARSON, &c

Readers who delight to slake their thirst for knowledge from the deep and pure wells of our olden literature will rejoice to hear of a cheap and elegant reprint of this beautiful little book. Perchance some book-buyer need be told that the above is a book to live by—an invaluable legacy of a parish priest to his brethren and the world. The author George Herbert, was born in 1593, near Montgomery, in the castle that had been successively happy in the Herberts, as Isaak Walton observes, "a family that hath been blest with men of remarkable wisdom." Herbert was educated at Cambridge, where he obtained the friendship of "the great secretary of nature and all learning, Sir Francis Bacon, Lord Verulam," who consulted Herbert "before he would expose any of his books to be printed, and dedicated a version of the Psalms to him as the best judge of divine poetry." Herbert was patronized by James I. who, for an elegant Latin oration, gave him a sinecure of 120l. a-year, for in those days the only Royal Society of Literature was in the palace; it is now among subjects, and too little in the Court. Upon the death of James, Herbert's Court hopes died also, and he betook himself to a retreat from London. In this retirement, "he had many conflicts with himself, whether he should return to the painted pleasures of court life or betake himself to the study of divinity, and enter into sacred orders." He chose the latter. He married well. In 1630 he was inducted into the parsonage of Bemerton, a mile from Salisbury; the third day after which, he said to his wife, "You are now a minister's wife, and must now so far forget your father's house, as not to claim a precedence of any one of your parishioners; for you are to know that a priest's wife can challenge no precedence or place, but that which she purchases by her obliging humility; and I am sure, places so purchased do best become them. And let me tell you, that I am so good a herald, as to assure you that this is truth." These rules his meek wife observed with cheerful willingness. Herbert now set about his "Priest to the Temple: or the Country Parson, his character, and rule of Holy Life." Unlike many doctrinists, he practised his own rules: he was a self-example of his own precepts, and his book was the rule of his own life; or, as Walton more beautifully explains it "his behaviour towards God and man may be said to be a practical comment on the holy rules set down in that useful book." Thus, he sets forth the Diversities of a Pastor's life: the Parson's life, knowledge, praying, preaching, Sundays, house, courtesy, charity, church, comfort, eye, mirth, &c.; his prayers before and after Sermon, with a few poetical pieces of quaint but touching sweetness. His poetry has been censured for its point and antithesis; but he cultivated the poetical art to convey moral and devotional sentiments; others excel him in smoothness of versification, but not in benevolent purpose. Herbert though himself a pattern of humility, was younger brother of the celebrated Lord Herbert of Cherbury, whom Horace Walpole abuses for his beauty and gallant bearing, tinctured it must be allowed, with affected notions of high birth. But the gay philosopher of Cherbury lived in the last days of chivalry, and had their light but gleamed upon Walpole, he would, in all probability, have borne the very qualities which he so loudly censures in Herbert. The pastor Herbert's wife was nearly related to Lord Danby, so that the caution which we have quoted was perhaps requisite. As Herbert sank his own high birth, it was but fit that his wife should forget hers also.

THE NEW BATH GUIDE

What a change from grave to gay—from the moral antitheses of Herbert's Country Parson to the fun and folly of Anstey's New Bath Guide, with etchings by George Cruikshank, and cuts admirably designed and engraved by S. Williams—as Mr. Simkin dressing for the ball:

 
But what with my Nivernois hat can compare,
Bag-wig and laced ruffles, and black solitaire,
And what can a man of true fashion denote,
Like an ell of good riband tyed under the throat.
 

and "We three blunder-heads," two frizzled physicians of the last century, and the invariably accompanying cane, or Esculapian wand. This edition is by Mr. Britton, who has prefixed a dedication and an essay on the genius of Anstey, both of which sparkle with humour and lively anecdote; and an amusing sketch of Bath as it is. Among the anecdotical notes to the Poem it is stated that Dodsley acknowledged about ten years after he had purchased the "Bath Guide," that the profits from its sale were greater than on any other book he had published. He generously gave up the copyright to the author in 1777, who had 200l. for the copyright after the second edition. Yet Dodsley, with all his liberality lived to be rich, though he originally was footman to the Hon. Mrs. Lowther; so true is it that genius and perseverance will find their way upwards from any station.

There is a pleasant anecdote of the late John Palmer, who, it will be remembered, was somewhat stiltish. "Palmer, whose father was a bill-sticker, and who had occasionally practised in the same humble occupation himself, strutting one evening in the green-room at Drury-Lane Theatre, in a pair of glittering buckles, a gentleman present remarked that they greatly resembled diamonds. 'Sir,' said Palmer, with warmth, 'I would have you to know, that I never wear anything but diamonds.' 'Jack, your pardon,' replied the gentleman, 'I remember the time when you wore nothing but paste!' This produced a loud laugh, which was heightened by Parsons jogging him on the elbow, and drily saying, 'Jack, why don't you stick him against the wall?'"

Another. Mr. Quin, upon his first going to Bath, found he was charged most exorbitantly for every thing; and, at the end of a week, complained to Nash, who had invited him thither, as the cheapest place in England for a man of taste and a bon vivant. The master of the ceremonies, who knew that Quin relished a pun, replied, "They have acted by you on truly Christian principles." "How so?" says Quin. "Why," answered Nash, "you were a stranger, and they took you in." "Ay" rejoined Quin; "but they have fleeced me, instead of clothed me."

THE OUTLINE OF ENGLISH HISTORY,

Is a well-executed compendium for schools, and will be amusing by any fire-side. It not merely contains the great names, but abounds with curious notes on domestic life in each reign, with facts and calculations which must have cost the editor, Mr. Ince, many days labour. The period pompously termed "the Georgian Aera" is not so copious us the editor wishes, but a little more forethought on his part or that of the printer would better satisfy himself and the public.

SNATCHES

From Mr. Bulwer's Novel of "Eugene Aram," vol. i.

Love of Nature.—It has been observed and there is a world of homely, ay, of legislative knowledge in the observation, that wherever you see a flower in a cottage-garden, or a bird at the window, you may feel sure that the cottagers are better and wiser than their neighbours.

Humour.—Where but in farces is the phraseology of the humorist always the same?

Conversation Tactics.—A quick, short, abrupt turn, that retrenching all superfluities of pronoun and conjunction, and marching at once upon the meaning of the sentence, had in it a military and Spartan significance, which betrayed how difficult it often is for a man to forget that he had been a corporal.

Music of Water.—You saw hard by the rivulet darkening and stealing away, till your sight, though not your ear, lost it among the woodland.

A fine Fellow—He had strong principles as well as warm feelings, and a fine and resolute sense of honour utterly impervious to attack. It was impossible to be in his company an hour, and not see that he was a man to be respected. It was equally impossible to live with him a week, and not see that he was a man to be beloved.

Marriage.—The greatest happiness which the world is capable of bestowing—the society and love of one in whom we could wish for no change, and beyond whom we have no desire.

Fatality.—What evil cannot corrupt, Fate seldom spares.

Widowhood.—If the blow did not crush, at least it changed him.

Comfort of Children.—As his nephew and his motherless daughters grew up, they gave an object to his seclusion, and a relief to his reflections. He found a pure and unfailing delight in watching the growth of their young minds, and guiding their differing dispositions; and, as time at length enabled them to return his affection, and appreciate his cares, he became once more sensible that he had a home.

Intellectual Beauty.—Her eyes of a deep blue, wore a thoughtful and serene expression, and her forehead, higher and broader than it usually is in women, gave promise of a certain nobleness of intellect, and added dignity, but a feminine dignity, to the more tender characteristics of her beauty.

A Village Beauty.—The sunlight of a happy and innocent heart sparkled on her face, and gave a beam it gladdened you to behold, to her quick hazel eye, and a smile that broke out from a thousand dimples.

An unformed mind.—Cheerful to outward seeming, but restless, fond of change, and subject to the melancholy and pining mood common to young and ardent minds.

Dependence.—What in the world makes a man of just pride appear so unamiable as the sense of dependence.

Two modes of sitting in a chair.—The one short, dry, fragile, and betraying a love of ease in his unbuttoned vest, and a certain lolling, see-sawing method of balancing his body upon his chair; the other, erect and solemn, and as steady on his seat as if he were nailed to it.

A Soldier's simile.—Your shy dog is always a deep one: give me a man who looks me in the face as he would a cannon.

A Landlord's Independence.—The indifference of a man well to do, and not ambitious of half-pence. "There's my wife by the door, friend; go, tell her what you want."