To private interest dead, and public care.
So lived he; so he might have died.

But now,

To the wide world's astonishment, appear'd
A glorious opening, the unlook'd-for dawn,
That promised everlasting joy to France!
Her voice of social transport reach'd even him!
He broke from his contracted bounds, repair'd
To the great City, an Emporium then
Of golden expectations, and receiving
Freights every day from a new world of hope.
Thither his popular talents he transferr'd ;
And, from the Pulpit, zealously maintain'd
The cause of Christ and civil liberty,
As one; and moving to one glorious end.
Intoxicating service! I might say

A happy service; for he was sincere

As vanity and fondness for applause,

And new and shapeless wishes, would allow.

That righteous Cause (such power hath Freedom) bound,

For one hostility, in friendly league

Etherial Natures and the worst of Slaves;
Was served by rival Advocates that came

From regions opposite as heaven and hell.

One courage seem'd to animate them all :
And, from the dazzling conquests daily gain'd
By their united efforts, there arose

A proud and most presumptuous confidence
In the transcendent wisdom of the age,
And her discernment; not alone in rights,
And in the origin and bounds of
power,
Social and temporal; but in laws divine,
Deduced by reason, or to faith reveal'd.
An overweening trust was raised; and fear
Cast out, alike of person and of thing.

Plague from this union spread, whose subtle bane
The strongest did not easily escape;

And He, what wonder! took a mortal taint.
How shall I trace the change, how bear to tell
That he broke faith with them whom he had laid
In earth's dark chambers, with a Christian's hope!
An infidel contempt of holy writ

Stole by degrees upon his mind; and hence

Life, like that Roman Janus, double-faced;
Vilest hypocrisy, the laughing, gay

Hypocrisy, not leagued with fear, but pride.
Smooth words he had to wheedle simple souls;
But, for disciples of the inner school,

Old freedom was old servitude, and they

The wisest whose opinions stoop'd the least
To known restraints: and who most boldly drew
Hopeful prognostications from a creed,
That, in the light of false philosophy,
Spread like a halo round a misty moon,
Widening its circle as the storms advance.

His sacred function was at length renounced; And every day and every place enjoy'd The unshackled Layman's natural liberty; Speech, manners, morals, all without disguise. I do not wish to wrong him ;- though the course Of private life licentiously display'd

Unhallow'd actions

planted like a crown

Upon the insolent aspiring brow

Of spurious notions worn as open signs
Of prejudice subdued - he still retain'd,

'Mid such abasement, what he had received
From nature

an intense and glowing mind. Wherefore, when humbled Liberty grew weak, And mortal sickness on her face appear'd, He colour'd objects to his own desire As with a Lover's passion. Yet his moods Of pain were keen as those of better men, Nay keener as his fortitude was less.

And he continued, when worse days were come,
To deal about his sparkling eloquence,
Struggling against the strange reverse with zeal
That show'd like happiness; but, in despite
Of all this outside bravery, within,
He neither felt encouragement nor hope.
For moral dignity, and strength of mind,
Were wanting; and simplicity of Life;
And reverence for himself; and, last and best,
Confiding thoughts, through love and fear of Him
Before whose sight the troubles of this world
Are vain as billows in a tossing sea.

The glory of the times fading away, The splendor, which had given a festal air To self-importance, hallow'd it, and veil'd From his own sight, - this gone, he forfeited All joy in human nature; was consumed, And vex'd, and chafed, by levity and scorn, And fruitless indignation; gall'd by pride; Made desperate by contempt of Men who throve Before his sight in power or fame, and won, Without desert, what he desired; weak men, Too weak even for his envy or his hate! Tormented thus, after a wandering course

Of discontent, and inwardly opprest

With malady in part, I fear, provoked

By weariness of life, he fix'd his Home,
Or, rather say, sate down by very chance,
Among these rugged hills; where now he dwells,
And wastes the sad remainder of his hours
In self-indulging spleen, that doth not want
Its own voluptuousness; on this resolved,
With this content, that he will live and die
Forgotten, - at safe distance from a "world
Not moving to his mind."

;

These serious words

Closed the preparatory notices

That served my Fellow-traveller to beguile
The way, while we advanced up that wide Vale.
Diverging now (as if his quest had been

Some secret of the Mountains, Cavern, Fall

Of water or some boastful Eminence,

Renown'd for splendid prospect far and wide)
We scaled, without a track to ease our steps,
A steep ascent; and reach'd a dreary plain,
With a tumultuous waste of huge hill tops
Before us; savage region! which I paced
Dispirited: when, all at once, behold!
Beneath our feet, a little lowly Vale,